Nor Hell A Fury, Like A Woman

Beauty Is The Lover's Gift.

How Hard A Thing 'twould Be To Please You All.

A Wit Should No More Be Sincere, Than A Woman Constant; One Argues A Decay Of Parts, As To Other Of Beauty.

These Articles Subscribed, If I Continue To Endure You A Little Longer, I May By Degrees Dwindle Into Wife.

I Confess Freely To You, I Could Never Look Long Upon A Monkey, Without Very Mortifying Reflections.