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For I who made them, know their inward State :
No Woman, once well-pleas'd, can throughly hate :
I gave 'em Beauty to subdue the Strong;
A mighty Empire ! But it lasts not long :
I gave 'em Pride to make Mankind their Slave,
But in Exchange, to Men I Flate'ry gave.
Th'offending Lover, when he lowest lies,
Submits to conquer, and but kneels to rise. Dryd. Auren.
[Spoken by Jupiter.
Why was I made with all my Sex's Softness,
Yer want the Cunning to conceal its Follies ?
I'll fee Caftalio ; tax him wirh his Falshood ;
Be a true Woman, rail, proteft my Wrongs,
Resolve to hate him, and yet love him stili. Otw, Orple
A ftrange diffembling Sex we Women are,,
Well may we Men, when we ourselves deceive.
Long has my secret Soul lov'd Troilus :
I drunk his Praises from my Unkle's Mouth,
As if my Ears could ne'er be satisfy'd.
Why then, why said I not, I love this Prince ?
How could my Tongue conspire against my Heart,
To say I lov'd him not. O childish Love!
'Tis like an Infant froward in his Play,
And what he most defires, he throws away. Shak. Troil. Cref.
Forbidding me to follow, she invites me:
This is the Mould of_which I made the Sex ;
I gave them but one Tongue to say us Nay,
And two kind Eyes to grant. Dryd. Amph. Spoken by Jupiter.
Our thoughtless Sex is caught by outward Form,
And empty Noise, and loves it felf in Man. Dryd. Oedip.
Hard Fate of Lovers, subject to our Laws!
Fools we must have, or else we cannot sway,
Por none but Fools will Womankind obey :
If they prove stubborn, and resist our Wií,
We exercise our Pow'r, and use 'em ill:
The passive Slave, that whines, adores, and dics,
Sometimes we pity, but we still despise:
But when we doat, the self-fame Fate we prove;
Fools at the best, but double Fools in Love,
We rage at first with ill-dissembled Scorn;
Then, falling from our height, more basely mourns
"And Man, th' insulting Tyrant, takes bis Turn;
Leaves us to weep for our negle&ted Charms,
And hugs another Mistress in his Arms :
And that which humbles our proud Sex the molt,
Of all our flighted Favours makes uis Boaft. Dryd. Cleom.
Some will a Husband-Fool, but such are curft;
For Fools perverse of Husbands are the Worst:
All Women would be counted chaste and wise,
Nor should our Spouses fee, but with our Eyes
For Fools will prate, and tho' they want the Wic
To find close Faults, yet open Blots will hit :
Tho' better for their Ease to hold their Tongue;
For Womankind was never in the Wrong:
So Noise ensues, and Quarrels laft for Life, (of Bath's Tale.
The Wife abhors the Fool, the Fool the Wife, Dryd. The Wife
Were you, ye Fair, buc cautious whom you trust,
So many of your Sex would not in vain
Of broken Vows, and faithless Men complain.
Of all the various Wretches Love has made,
How few have been by Men of Sense betray'd ?
Convinc'd by Reason, they your Pow'r confess,
Pleas'd to be happy, as you're pleas'd to bless, (Fair Pen.
And conscious of your Worth, can never love you less. Row.
Women, like Summer-Storms, a while are cloudy,
Burst out in Thunder, and impetuous Show'rs;
But strait the Sun of Beauty dawns abroad,
And all the fair Horizon is serene.
Women, to the brave an easie Prey,
Still follow Fortune where she leads the way. Dryd. Pal., Art:
For Women born to be contrould,
Scoop to the forward and the bold
Affe & the haughty and the proud,
The gay, the frolick, and the loud.
Who first the gen'rous Steed opprest,
Ņot kneeling did falute the Bealt;
But with high Courage, Life, and Force
Approaching; tam'a th' unruly Horse.
Unwisely we the wifer Eaft.
Pity, supposing them opprest
Force, whose Law is Will
By which they govern, spoil, and kill;
Each Nymph, but moderately fair,
Commands with no less Rigour here.
Should some brave Turk, that walks among
His twenty Laffes bright and young,
And beckons to the willing Dame,
Preferr'd to quenchi his present Flame,
Behold as many Gallants here,
With modeft Guife, and filent Fear,
All to one Female Idol bend,
Whild her high Pride does scarce descend
To mark their Follies, he would swear
That these her Guards of Eunuchs were ;
And that a more majestick Queen,
Or humbler Slaves he had not seen.
For Women, you know, feldom fail,
To make the stoutest Men turn Tail,
And bravely scorn to turn their Backs
Upon the desperat'st Atracks.
They wound like Parthians, while they fly,
And kill with a retreating Eye;
Retire che more, the more we press,
To draw us into Ambushes.
Words with the Leaves of Trees Resemblance hold,
In this Refpe&t ; where ev'ry Year the old
Fall off, and new ones in their Places grow:
Death is the Fate of all things here below.
If Man, and Nature's Works submit to Fate,
Much less muft Words expect a lasting Date:
Many, which we approve for current now,
In the next Age out of Request will grow :
And others, which are now thrown out of Doors,
Shall be reviv’d, and come again in Force,
If Custom please, from whom their Force they draw,
Which of our Speech is the sole Judge and Law. Old). Hor.
Words are but the Pi&tures of our Thoughts.
Dryd. His Words replete with Guile, Into her Heart too easie Entrance won.
Milt. In her Ears the Sound Yet rung of his perswafive Words, impregn'd With Reason, to her Seeming, and with Truth.
Milt. Teach me, some Pow'r, that happy Art of Speech, To dress my Purpose up in gracious Words; Such as may softly steal upon her Soul, And never waken the tempestuous Passions. Row. Fair. Pet.
The World's a stormy Sea,
Whofe ev'ry Breath is strew'd with Wrecks of Wretches.
That daily perish in it.
Row, Amb. Step.
Where solid Pains succeed our senseless Joys,
And shore liv'd Pleasures fleet like passing Dreams. Roch. Valent.
The World's a Wood, in which all lose their Way, Tho' by a different Path each goes astray.
Rech. The World's a Labyrinth, where unguided Men, Walk up and down to find their Weariness: No sooner have we measur'd with much Toil,
Lee Nero. Š ( 479 ) One crooked Path in hope to gain our Freedom, But it betrays us to a new Amigion. Beau. Night-walker.
W O R M S. See Creation.
W O UND S.
His Face and Limbs were one continu'd Wound;
Dishoneft, with lope Arms the Youth appears,
Spoil'd of his Nofe, and shorten'd of his Ears.' Dryd. Virg.
Then with a speeding Thrust his Heart he found;
The luke-warm Blood came rushing thro' the Wound,
And fanguin Streams distain'd the sacred Ground. Dryd. Virg.
Scars of Honour seam'd his manly Face.
With many a Wound she made her Bosom gay,
Her Wounds like Floodgates, did themselves display,
Thro' which Life ran in scarlet Streams away.
The yawning Wound
Gush'd out a purple Stream, and stain'd the Ground. Dryd. Virg.
The gaping Wound gush'd out a crimson Flood. Dryd. Virg.
Like dumb Mouths, his Wounds
Qpend their ruby Lips.
Shak. Jul. Caj.
There Duncan lay ;
His silver Skin lac'd with his golden Blood,
And his galh'd Stabs look'd like a Breach in Nature
For Ruin's wasteful Entrance.
Old as I am, and quench'd with Scars and Sorrows,
Yet could I make this wither'd Arm do Wonders ;
And open in an Enemy such Wounds,
Mercy would weep to look on.
They made bare their Breasts,
Lac'd with long Scars and studded o'er with Thrusts,
The noble Wardrobe of the Scarler.War.
He bar'd his Breast, and shew'd his Scars,
As of a furrow'd Field, well plough'd wich Wars. Dryd. Ovid.
Close by each other laid they press’d the Ground,
Their manly Bofoms pierc'd with many a griefly Wound.
Nor well alive, nor wholly dead they were,
But some faint Signs of feeble Life appear :
The wand'ring Breath was on the Wing to part,
Weak was the Pulse,and hardly heav'd the Heart.Dryd.Pal.& Arc.
Look who comes here! a Grave unto a Soul :
Holding th'eternal Spirit gainft her Will,
In the vile Prison of afflicted Breath.
Shak. K. Johir.
To be a Dog, and dead,
Were Paradise to such a State as his ;
He holds down Life, as Children do a Potion,
With strong Reluctance, and convulsive Strugglings:
While his Misforçunes prefs him to disgorge ic. Row. Tamerl.
To know no Thought of Rest, to have the Mind
Still ministring fresh Plagues, as in a Circle,
Where one Dishonour treads upon another,
What know the Fiends beyond it !
There's not a Wrecch that lives on common Charity,
But's happier far than me : For I have known
The luscious Sweets of Plenty; Ev'ry Night Have slept with soft Content about my Head, And never wak’d but to a joyful Morning : Yet now must fall like a full Ear of Corn,
(Ven. Pref. Whose Blossoms 'scapd, but's wither'd in the Rip'ning. Otw.
Then looking on the neighb'ring Woods, we law
The ghastly Visage of a Man unknown:
An uncouth Feature, meagre, pale and wild;
AM&tions foul and terrible Dismay
Sate on his Looks: His Face impair'd and worn
With Marks of Famine, speaking fore Distress
His Locks were tangled, and his shaggy Beard
Marted with Filth.
Then from the Wood there bolts before our Sight,
Somewhat, botwixt a Morcal and a Spright;
So thin, so ghastly meagre, and so wan,
So bare of Flesh, he scarce resembled Man.
This Thing all tatter'd was s shaggy his Beard :
His Cloachs were tagg'd with Thorns, and Filth his Limbs
(besmear’d. Dryd. Virg.
Perceiv'ft thou not the Process of the Year :
How the four Seasons in four Forms appear,
Resembling human Life in ev'ry Shape they wear ?
Spring first, like Infancy, shoots out her Head,
milky Juice requiring to be fed ;
Helpless, though fresh, and wanting to be led.
The green Stem grows in Stature and in Size,
But only feeds with Hope the Farmer's Eyes.
Then laughs the childish Vear with Flowrets crown'd,
And lavishly perfumes the Fields around.
But no fubftantial Nourishment receives;
Infirm the Stalks, unfolid are the Leaves.
Proceeding onward whence the Year began ;
Summer grows adult, and ripens into Man:
This Season, as in Men, is most replete
With kindly Moisture, and prolifick Heat.
Autumn succeeds, a sober tepid Age,
Not froze with Fear, nor boiling into Rage ;
More than mature, and tending to Decay,
When our brown Locks repine to mix with odious Grey.