O, Nothing Is More Alluring Than A

There Is Nothing More Unbecoming A Man Of Quality Than To Laugh ... 'tis Such A Vulgar Expression Of The Passion!

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.

Love's But The Frailty Of The Mind, When 'tis Not With Ambition Joined; A Sickly Flame, Which If Not Fed Expires; And Feeding, Wastes In Self-consuming Fires.

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

Thus Grief Still Treads Upon The Heels Of Pleasure; Married In Haste, We May Repent At Leisure.