The Avenged Women or The Feigned Infidelities

And more tender than Io a mythological figure loved by Jupiter,

That is yours.

No, no.

More lively than Sappho Greek poetess;
But, unfortunately, too virtuous.

Yes, that is my wife.

Ah! if some thief,
If rather a rival, too assiduous near her,
Were preparing to steal her heart from me,
I would make his brains fly out instantly,
I hear noise, I believe.

But if he entered here,

No, no, I took the key, & here it is.

God of lovers,
It is you who makes
All our moments
Charming

In this feast,
Divine through you,
Chain
With flowers,
Hearts
That pleasure draws along.

May I read
In two beautiful eyes
Full of your fires,
The happiness,
That my heart
Desires.