The Answer

Nothing adds to your fond Fire
More than Scorn, and cold Disdain:
I, to cherish your Desire,
Kindness us'd, but 'twas in vain.

You insisted on your Slave,
Humble Love you soon refus'd:
Hope not then a Pow'r to have,
Which ingloriously you us'd.

Think not, Thirsis, I will e're,
By my Love my Empire lose:
You grow constant through Dispair,
Love return'd you wou'd abuse.

Though you still possess my Heart,
Scorn and Rigour I must feign:
Ah! forgive that only Art,
Love has left your Love to gain.

You that could my Heart subdue,
To new Conquests ne'er pretend:
Let the Example make me true,
And of a conquer'd Foe a Friend.

Then, if e'er I should complain
Of your Empire, or my Chain,
Summon all the powerful Charms,
And kill the Rebel in your Arms.