Perfidious Man! which way can you atone
For th’ base and treach’rous Affronts you ’ve done?
The blinding Passion now is vanquished quite,
That kept the foulness of them from my sight:
Must my tormented Soul never have Ease?
When shall I be, thou cruel Man, at Peace?
Within a while you yet perhaps may hear,
Or have a Letter, from your injur’d Fair,
To let you know that she is at repose,
Freed of the Torments that from you arose.