Of the strange thing some women set a value on,
Which hovers oft about some married beauties,
Called "Cavalier Servente?"[512]—a Pygmalion
Whose statues warm (I fear, alas! too true 't is)
Beneath his art:[JJ]—the dame, pressed to disclose them,
Said—"Lady, I beseech you to suppose them."
LII.
And thus I supplicate your supposition,
And mildest, matron-like interpretation,
Of the imperial favourite's condition.