la Maupin's love letter to d'...

As given by Joseph De La Porte, la Maupin's love letter to d'Albert goes something like this:

Voudras tu, cher Amont, parmi le bruit des armes,
Entendre le récit de mes vives alarmes;
Et quand Mars, dans ton sein, allume ses fureurs,
Tes yeux daigneront-ils voir une Amante en pleurs?
Quel trouble, quel effroi de tout mon cœur s'empare!
Il count un bruit confus qu'un combat se prépare;
Que Bade vainement songe à se retrancher;
Qu'au milieu de ses Forts Villars va le chercher.
Bruit cruel! chaque mot m'épouvante & me glace!
Le Ciel me ferait-il pressentir ma disgrace?
Ah! je sais que pour toi gloire a trop d'appas;
Que l'honneur aux périls précipite tes pas.
Pour un Guerrier, tes yeux ont reçu trop de charmes;
Pour un Amant ton cœur aime trop les alarmes.
Le Ciel devait du moins te rendre, en te formant.
Ou moins vaillant Guerrier, ou moins aimable Amant.
De mon sexe timide ignorant la faiblesse,
Je suis faite aux périls, ainsi qu'à la tendresse.
Que ne m'est-il permis de voler après toi?
Si ie suivois tes pas, je n'aurois nul effroi:
J'irois braver la mort-& serois toujours prête
De m'exposer aux coups qui menacent ta tête:
Ta jeunesse, tes traits, ce teint vif, ces appas,
Ces cheveux qu'Apollon ne désavouerait pas,
Dans l'empire amoureux inévitables charmes,
Pour toi, dans les combats, sont d'inutiles armes.
Un homicide plomb, avec impunité,
Frappe sans respecter l'age, ni la beauté.
Adonis, comme toi, fut autrefois aimable;
Pour toi, je crains, hélas! son destin déplorable.
Vénus entre ses bras lui vit perdre le jour;
Je n'ai point ses attraits; mais j'ai tout son amour.
O mere des plaisirs, favorable Déesse!
Toi que suitent toujours les Ris & la Jeunesse,
Je t'implore aujourd'hui, Si d'une tendre voix
J'ai quelquefois chanté la douceur de tes loix;
Si j'ai vanté ton fils, ses traits & son empire,
Et porté dans les cœurs les flammes qu'il inspire,
Vóle, descends des Cieux; sers-toi de ces regards
Qui savent, quand tu veux, désarmer le Dieu Mars.
Obtiens qu'à mon amour? il ne soir pas funeste.
Mais, que dis-je, insensée? & quel espoir me reste?
En voyant cet objet de mes vœuX les plus doux,
Tu serais ma Rivale; & Mars serait jaloux.
Parmi tant de frayeurs, e'est toi seul que j'implore,
Cher Amant; souvien-toi que mon ame t'adore;
Que tu dois de mes pleurs faire cesser le cours;
Qu'en expesant ta vie, il y va de mes jours.

and, in English that might be something like

Would you, dear lover, amongst the noise of arms,
Listen to the tale of my vivid alarms;
And when Mars, in your breast, lights his furies,
Would your eyes deign see a Lover in tears?
What disorder, what dread all my heart seizes!
There goes an indistinct rumor that a fight is preparing;
That Baden vainly considers entrenching
That in the middle of its forts Villars will fetch it
Cruel rumor! Each word scares et chills me with fear
Would Heaven forebode my disgrace?
Ah! I know that for you Glory has too many charms;
That honor into perils plunges your strides
For a Warrior, your eyes received too many charms;
For a Lover your heart loves too much alarms.
Heaven at least should have while forming you;
Either less gallant Warrior, or less pleasant lover.

From my timid gender ignoring the weakness
I am made to perils, as much as tenderness.
How I wish I was allowed to fly after you?
If I followed your steps I would have no fear:
I  would brave death and always be ready
To expose myself to the blows threatening your head:
Your youth, your features, this vivid complexion, those charms;
Those hair Apollo would not disavow,
In the sway of love inevitable charms,
For you, in battles, are useless arms.
A homicidal lead/shot/bullet, with impunity,
Strikes without respecting age nor beauty.
Adonis, like you, was in the past lovable;
For you, alas, I fear his deplorable fate.
Venus in her arms watched him loose the day;
I don’t have her appeal; but I have all her love.
O mother of pleasures, favorable Goddess!
Always followed by Laughter and Youth,
I implore you today. If, with a tender voice;
I sometimes song the sweetness of your laws;
If I vaunted your son, his features and his empire,
And carried in the hearts the flames he inspires,
Fly, come down from the Heavens; use your gazes
Which know, when you want, disarm the god Mars.
Obtain that to my love he would not be fatal
But what am I saying, fool woman? And what hope have I left?
When seeing this subject of my sweetest wishes,
You would be my rival; and Mars would be jealous.
Among so many frights, you are the only one I implore,
Dear Lover; remember you’re who my soul adores
That you must of my tears cease the flow/course;
That by exposing your life, my days are at stake

Some attribute this to Danchet.

Rappar's Remarks : this is bad poetry, even for precious 18th century; while the first paragraph is fair, the rest is ludicrous; references to Venus, moves of love are excessive. There are too many references to La Maupin's Legend, so she never wrote that.

I translated faithfully, not trying to make it sound better.

whoops, I did not see that you wanted to include it in the novel. :( so I made a rather literal translation, instead of a poetic one (with the rhymes and all). Please consider before including it in the novel, that it is highly unlikely that Maupin ever wrote such a ridiculous preciously convoluted poem...