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Oh women, mens subduers !
Davenport's King fun and Matilda.
Davenport's City Night Cap. He is a fool who thinks by force, or skill, To turn the current of a woman's will.
Tuke's Adventures of Five Hours. Seek for the star that's shot upon the ground, And nought but a dim gelly there is found : Thus foul and dark our female stars appear, If fall’n or loosned once from vertue's sphere.
Bishop King, Women, like china, should be kept with care ; One flaw debases her to common ware.
Crown's Sir Courtly Nice. Poor womankind Heav'n for our ruin, gifts on us bestows, Charms to allure, no power to oppose. In paflion we are strong, in reason weak, Constant alone, to error and mistake; In vertue feign'd, in vanity sincere; Witty in fin, and for damnation fair.
Crown's Darins. These are great maxims, fir, it is confeft; Too ftately for a womans narrow breast. Poor love is loft in mens capacious minds; In ours, it fills
all the room it finds. Crown's Second Part of the Destruction of Jerufalem. From men we only seem to fly, To meet them with more privacy.
Crown's Califo. W 0 RDS Ev'n as the vapour which the fire repells, Turns not to earth, but in the mid air dwells ;
Where while it hangs, if Boreas' frosty flaws,
Mirror for Magistrates.
Shake/pear's All's well that ends well. Your words are ear-wigs to my vexed brains, Like hen-bane juice, or aconite diffus'd, They ítrike me senseless.
True Trojans Words are the soul's embaffadors, who go Abroad upon her errands to and fro; They are the sole expounders of the mind, And correspondence keep 'twixt all mankind. They are those airy keys that ope (and wreft Sometimes) the locks and hinges of the breast. By them the heart makes fallies: wit and sense Belong to them : They are the quintessence Of those ideas which the thoughts dittil, And so calcine and melt again, until They drop forth into accents ; in whom lies The falt of fancy, and all faculties. The world was fram'd by the eternal word, Who to each creature did a name afford;
And such an union made 'twixt words and things,
The Rabbins-fay, such is the strengh of words,
Nevile's Poor Scholar. WORLD. How weary, ftale, fat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world ? Fie on't! oh fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to feed; things rank, and grofs in nature, Poffels it meerly
Shakespear's Hamlet, This world's a city full of straying streets, And death's the market-place where each one meets.
Skakespear, Beaumont and Fletcher's Two noble Kinsmen. Lo, how the formy world doth worldlings tofs,
"Twixt fandy pleasures, and a rocky will ! Whilst them that court it most, it' molt doth cross, To vice indulgent, vertue's step-dame ftill.
E. of Sterline's Crafus, Who to the full, thy vileness, world, e'er told !
What is in thee, that's not extremely ill ? A loathsome shop, where poison's only fold,
Whose very entrance initantly doth kill: Nothing in thee but villany doth dwell, And all thy ways lead head long into hell,
Drayton's Legend of Pierce Gaveston. This world is like a mint, we are no sooner Caft into the fire, taken out again, Hammer'd, stamp'd, and made current, but Presently we are chang'd.
Dekker and Webster's Westward Hor,
As mankind, so is the world's whole frame
Ibid. They say the world is like a byass-bowl, And it runs all on the rich mens sides : others Say, 'tis like a tennis ball, and fortune Keeps such a racket with it, as it toffes It into time's hazard, and that devours all.
Cupid's Whirligig. This world's the chaos of confusion : No world at all, but mass of open wrongs, Wherein a inan, as in a map may The high road way from woe to misery.