啊!Strephon，你怎么能轻视她，她没有你的怜悯就会死去!我对斯特里芬始终忠诚，和你一样有着高贵的血统;温柔的床上的美人，在你怀中孕育的处女，比妻子更紧拥着你;当我离开你，我就离开了我的生活。为何我的牧童会误以为我用吻唤醒你?你却抱怨每一个吻;啊!爱情不是一种令人愉快的痛苦吗?每一个快乐的夜晚，你都能轻松愉快地治愈这种痛苦; With pleasure, as the poet sings, Too great for mortals less than kings. Chloe, when on thy breast I lie, Observes me with revengeful eye: If Chloe o'er thy heart prevails, She'll tear me with her desperate nails; And with relentless hands destroy The tender pledges of our joy. Nor have I bred a spurious race; They all were born from thy embrace. Consider, Strephon, what you do; For, should I die for love of you, I'll haunt thy dreams, a bloodless ghost; And all my kin, (a numerous host,) Who down direct our lineage bring From victors o'er the Memphian king; Renown'd in sieges and campaigns, Who never fled the bloody plains: Who in tempestuous seas can sport, And scorn the pleasures of a court; From whom great Sylla found his doom, Who scourged to death that scourge of Rome, Shall on thee take a vengeance dire; Thou like Alcides shalt expire, When his envenom'd shirt he wore, And skin and flesh in pieces tore. Nor less that shirt, my rival's gift, Cut from the piece that made her shift, Shall in thy dearest blood be dyed, And make thee tear thy tainted hide.