Yet oft the vanquish’d some advantage find, When conquer’d by a noble, generous mind. Brave Minos justly has the war begun, Fired with resentment for his murder’d son: The righteous gods a righteous cause regard, And will with victory his arms reward: We must be conquer’d; and the captive’s fate Will surely seize us, though it seize us late. Why then should love be idle, and neglect What Mars, by arms and perils, will effect? O prince! I die, with anxious fear oppress’d, Lest some rash hand should wound my charmer’s breast; For, if they saw, no barb’rous mind could dare Against that lovely form to raise a spear.