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Is't Honour does these Rigid Laws impose;

That will no sign of gentleness allow;

That tells you 'tis a Crime to pity Foes,

And bids you all the utmost Rigour show?

III.

All Praise the Judge, unwilling to Condemn,

Where Clemency with Justice long Debates:

But he who Rig'rously insults, we blame,

And think the Man more than his Sin, he hates.

IV.

Dare I my Judge accuse of Cruelty?

When at her Feet she saw her Slave implore,

With hasty Joy she gave the sad Decree:

I hate you, and will never see you more.

V.

Ay! 'tis too plain, the false Olinda's pleas'd

To see the Captive's Death her Eyes had made:

As what she wish'd, she the Occasion seiz'd;

No Sigh a kind Reluctancy betray'd.

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