Amintor, ah, thou faithless swain,
Thus to requite me with disdain: 
To cheat a poor shepherdess into belief 
And leaving me big with dishonour and grief:
  To scorn me and laugh at my pain,
  To love me awhile, and scorn me again.

I must confess I was betrayed 
By all the solemn vows you made; 
Yet do not insult, for it may be your turn 
To meet with disdain when you really burn.
  If this be the fate, you'll allow 
  Your punishment's just for breaking your vow!