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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.
For Jealousy is but a kind
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
What Tortures can there be in Hell,
When doating on some fair One's Charms;
As Lions, tho' they once were tame,
Lift up their stormy Voices, roar,
So fares the Lover, when his Breast
Forswears the Nymph for whom he burns,
But when the Fair resolves his Doubt,
The Cloud of Jealousy's difpelld;
With what strange Raptures is he bleft,
Tho' hard the Torment's to endure,
Love reigns a very Tyrant in my Heart;
Think'st thou I'll make a Life of Jealousy,
If I do prove her haggard,
prey at Fortune.
Gteater than that.
But yet, I say,
Oh that the Slave had Forty thousand Lives!
To the Propontick and the Hellespont;
Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble Love,
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,
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.
Then what avails us to have Eyes?
Exceeding fierce, but deftitute of Sight.
All hideous Forms ! and her Coinmands obey'd.
IMPRECATIONS. See Curto.
(Prof Groan here in all those Pains which mine feels now. Oive. Ven.
Oh that my Arms could both the Poles embrace,
(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