What Then In Love Can Woman Do?

Fools May Our Scorn, Not Envy, Raise. For Envy Is A Kind Of Praise.

Youth's The Season Made For Joys, Love Is Then Our Duty.

One Wife Is Too Much For Most Husbands To Bear, But Two At A Time There's No Mortal Can Bear.

Woman's Mind Oft' Shifts Her Passions, Like Th'inconstant Wind; Sudden She Rages, Like The Troubled Main, Now Sinks The Storm, And All Is Calm Again.

No Author Ever Spar'd A Brother.