Nor Hell A Fury, Like A Woman

A Little Scorn Is Alluring.

Whoever Is King, Is Also The Father Of His Country.

In My Conscience I Believe The Baggage Loves Me, For She Never Speaks Well Of Me Herself, Nor Suffers Any Body Else To Rail At Me.

They Come Together Like The Coroner's Inquest, To Sit Upon The Murdered Reputations Of The Week.

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