Imatges de pÓgina

His feeble Hand a Jav'lin threw, Which, futtering, seem'd co loiter as it flew ; Just, and but barely, to the Mark it held, And faintly tinkled on the brazen Shield. Dryd. Virg.

JEALOUS Y. The greater Care, the higher Passion Thews : We hold that dearest, we moft fear to lose : Distrust in Lovers is too warm a Sun, But yet 'cis Night in Love, when that is gone : And in those Climes which most his Scorching know, He makes the noblest Fruits and Metals grow.Dryd.Conq.of Gras.

What Arts can blind a jealous Woman's Eyes? Love the first Motions of the Lover hears, Quick to presage, and ev'n in Safety fears.

Dryd. Virg.
Jealousy is a noble Crime
'Tis the high Pulse of Passion in a Feaver ;
A fickly Draught, but shews a burning Thirst. Dryd. Amphit:

For Jealousy is but a kind
Of Clap, or Crincam of the Mind :
The natural Effee of Love,
As other Pains and Aches prove.

Ah! Why are not the Hearts of Women known ?
False Women to new Joys unseen can move,
There are no Prints left in the Paths of Love :
All Goods besides by publick Marks are known, (p. 2.
But that we most desire to keep has none. Dryd. Cong. of Gran.

No Sign of Love in jealous Men remains, (Gran. p. 2. But that which fick Men have of Life, their Pains. Dryd.Cong of

Small Jealousies, 'cis true, inflame Desire, The Great not fan, but quite put out the Fire. Dryd.Auren.

O Jealousy! thou raging Ill! Why haft thou found a Place in Lover's Hearts? · Affli&ting what thou canst not kill,

(Alban. And poys’ning Love himself with his own Darts. Dryd. Alb. eo

Whac State of Life can be so bleft
As Love, that warms a Lover's Breast ?
Two Souls in one ; the same Desire
To grant the Bliss, and to require.
But if in Heav'n a Hell we find,
'Tis Jealousy, thou Tyrant of the Mind!
All other Ills, tho' sharp they prove,
Serve to refine and perfe& Love:
In Absence, or unkind Disdain,
Sweet Hope relieves the Lover's Pain,
Thou art the Fire of endless Night,
The Fire that burns and gives no Light. Dr. Love Trium.


What Tortures can there be in Hell,
Compar'd to those fond Lovers feel,

When doating on some fair One's Charms;
They think she yields them to their Rival's Arms?

As Lions, tho' they once were tame,
Yec if sharp Wounds their Räge inflame;

Lift up their stormy Voices, roar,
And tear the Keepers they obey'd before.

So fares the Lover, when his Breast
By jealous Frenzy is poffefs'd:

Forswears the Nymph for whom he burns,
Yet strait to her, whom he forswears, returns.

But when the Fair resolves his Doubt,
The Love comes in, the Fear goes out :

The Cloud of Jealousy's difpelld;
And the bright Sun of Innocence reveal'd:

With what strange Raptures is he bleft,
Raptures, too great to be express'd!

Tho' hard the Torment's to endure,
Who would not have the Sickness for the Cure ? Walb.

Love reigns a very Tyrant in my Heart;
Attended on his Throne by all his Guard
Of furious Wishes, Fears, and nice Suspicions. Otw. Orph.

Think'st thou I'll make a Life of Jealousy,
To follow still the Changes of the Moon
With fresh Surmises ? No, to be once in Doubt;
Is to be resolv'd. But yet, fago,
I'll fee before I doubt : When I doubt; prove ;
And on the Proof there is no more but this,
Away at once with Love or Jealousy.

If I do prove her haggard,
Tho' that her Jefles were my dear Heart-strings,
I'd whistle her off, and let her down the Wind,

prey at Fortune.
Villain! be sure thou prove my Love a Whore,
Be sure of it ! give me the ocular Proof,
Or by the Worth of my eternal Soul;
Thou hadst much better have been born a Dogi
Than answer my wak'd Wrath :
Make me to see it, or at least so prove it,
That the Probation bear no Hinge, no Loop
To hang a Doubt on, or Woe upon thy Life!
If thou dost slander her, and torture me,
Never pray more, abandon all Remorse,
On Horrour's Head Horrours accumulate,
Do Deeds to makę Heav'n weep, all Earth amaz'd,
For nothing canst thou to Damnation add,


Gteater than that.
Give me a living Reason she's disloyal,
I'll have some Proof: My Name that was as fresh
As Dian's Visage, is now begrim'd and black
As my own Face. If there be Cords or Knives,
Poison or Fire, or suffocacing Streams,
I'll not indure it : I'll be satisfy'd.
It is impossible you should see this ;

But yet, I say,
If Imputation and strong Circumstances,
Which lead dire&ly to the Door of Truth,
Will give you Satisfaction, you may have it.

Oh that the Slave had Forty thousand Lives!
One is too poor, too weak for my Revenge !
Now do I see 'tis true! Look here, Jago!
All my fond Love thus do I blow to Heav'n! 'Tis gone !
Arise black Vengeance from the hollow Hell :
Yield up, O Love, thy Crown and hearted Throne
To tyrannous Hate ! swell, Bofoni, with thy Fraught,
For 'tis of Alpicks Tongues. Like to the Pontick Sea,
Whose Icy Current, and compulsive Course,
Ne'er knows retiring Ebb, but keeps due on

To the Propontick and the Hellespont;
| Ev'n fo my bloody Thoughts, with violent Pace,

Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble Love,
Till that a capable, and wide Revenge
Swallow them up.

Shak. Çthel,
Oh you have done an A&,
That blots the Face, and Blush of Modesty ;
Calls Virtue Hypocrite, cakes off the Rose
From the fair Forehead of an innocent Love,
And makes 'a Blister there : Makes Marriage-Vows
As false as Dicers Oaths. Oh such a Deed !
Heav'ns Face does glow at it.
Yea, chis Solidity and compound Mass,
With tristful Visage, as against the Doom,
Is Thought-fick at the Act.

Shak. Haml. Thou art as honeft As Summer Flies are in the Shambles, That quicken even with blowing. Othou Weed Who are so lovely fair, and look ft so sweet, That the Sense akes at thee! Was this fair Paper, this most goodly Book Made to write Whore upon ? O thou publick Commonem I should make very Forges of my Cheeks, That would to Cindars burn up Modesty, Did I but speak thy Deeds.



Heav'n stops the Nose at it, and the Moon winks,
The bawdy Wind, that killes all it meets,
Is buth'd within the hollow Mine of Earth,
And will not hear it.

Slak. Orbel.
Let Ignominy brand chy hated Name,
Let modest Matrons at thy Mention start;
And blushing Virgins, when they read our Annals,
Skip o'er the guilty Page that holds thy Legend,
And blots the noble Work.

Shak. Troil. & Cref. Had it pleas'd Heav'n To try me with Affiliations : Had they rain'd All kinds of Sores and Shames on my bare Head, Steep'd me in Poverty to the very Lips, Giv'n to Captiviry me and my utmost Hopes, I should have found in some Place of my Soul A Drop of Patience. But alas ! to make me The fix'd Figure for the Time of Scorn To point his flow and moving Finger at ! Yet could I bear that too! Well, very well! But there, where I had garner'd up my Heart, Where either I must live, or bear no Life ; The Fountain from the which my Current runs, Or «lle dries up: To be discarded thence, Or keep it as a Cistern för foul Toads To knot and gender in! Turn thy Complexion there, Patience, thou young and Rose-lip'd Cherubim, I here look grim as Hell.

Shak. Othel. O plague me, Heav'n, plague me with all the Woes Thai Man can suffer : Root up my Possessions, Ship-werck my far fought Ballast in the Haven, Fire all my Cities, burn my Dukedoms down, Let midnight Wolves howl in my defart Chambers, May the Earth yawn! Tatter the Frame of Nature! Ler the wreck'd Orbs in Whirlwinds round me move ! But save me from the Rage of jealous Love !

Lee Cæf. Borg For oh! what damned Minutes tells he o'er, Who doats, yet doubts; suspe&s, yet strongly loves. Shak.Othel.

And Doubrs and Fears to Jealousies will turn, The hottest Hell in which a Heart can burn.

C09. How frail, how cowardly is Woman's Mind! We shriek at Thunder, dread the rustling Wind; And glitt'ring Swords the brightest Eyes will blind. Yet when strong Jealousy inflames the Soul, The Weak will roar, and Calms to Tempests roul.

Les Alex. Torment me with this horrid Rage no more ; O smile, and grant one reconciling Kifs : Ye Gods! The's kind, I'm Extasie all oe'r !


My Soul's too narrow to contain my Bliss!

Thou pleasing Torture of my Breaft!

Sure thou wert form'd co plague my Rest! Since both the Good and Ill you do, alike my Peace destroy, This kills me with Excels of Grief, that withi Excess of Joy.

Seeing arighit, we see our Woes,

Then what avails us to have Eyes?
From Ignorance our Comfort flows,
The only wretched are the Wife,

ignorance, Discora's Parent, bý her food,
And from her Breast squeez'd juice like blackish Blood,
Her hateful Offspring's most delicious Food.
A formidable Figure! black as Night!
That does in Shades and Labyrinths delight ;

Exceeding fierce, but deftitute of Sight.
| A Crowd of howling Hell-hounds near her stay'd;

All hideous Forms ! and her Coinmands obey'd.
Contention, Zeal, inexorable Rage,
And Strife, that wretched Men in Arms engage;
Various Division, Malice, deadly Hate,
That rend a Kingdom and diffolve a Statė.

Final Destruction lieze on all the World:
Bend down, ye Heav'ns! and hurting round this Earth,
Crush the vile Glübe into its first Confusion;
Scorch it with elemental Flames to one curs Cinder,
And all us little Creepers in't, call'd Men,
Born, burn to nothing! But let Venice burn
Hotter than all the rest : Here kindle Hell
Ne'er to extinguish ; and let Souls hereafter

(Prof Groan here in all those Pains which mine feels now. Oive. Ven.

Oh that my Arms could both the Poles embrace,
And wreft the World's strong Pillars from their Base;
That all the crackling Frame might be disjoyn'd,
And bury in its Ruin Human-kind.

That I could reach the Axle where the fins are
Which bolt this Frame, that I might pull'em out,
And pluck all into Chaos with my self !
Who would not fall with all the World about hiin ? Johns.
Oh that, as oft I have at Athens seen

(Catil. The Stage arise, and the big Clouds descend; So now in very Deed I might behold The pond'rous Earth, and all yon marble Roof, Meec like the Hand's of Jove, and crush Mankind : For all the Elements, and all the Powers



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