William Congreve. 1670-1729.
Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast,
To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
The Mourning Bride. Act i. Sc. 1.
By magic numbers and persuasive sound.
The Mourning Bride. Act i. Sc. 1.
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.[294:2]
The Mourning Bride. Act iii. Sc. 8.
For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds,
And though a late, a sure reward succeeds.
The Mourning Bride. Act v. Sc. 12.
If there 's delight in love, 't is when I see
That heart which others bleed for, bleed for me.
The Way of the World. Act iii. Sc. 12.
Ferdinand Mendez Pinto was but a type of thee, thou liar of the first magnitude.
Love for Love. Act ii. Sc. 5.
I came up stairs into the world, for I was born in a cellar.[294:3]
Love for Love. Act ii. Sc. 7.
[295]
Hannibal was a very pretty fellow in those days.
The Old Bachelor. Act ii. Sc. 2.
Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure;
Married in haste, we may repent at leisure.[295:1]
The Old Bachelor. Act v. Sc. 1.
Defer not till to-morrow to be wise,
To-morrow's sun to thee may never rise.[295:2]
Letter to Cobham.
Footnotes
[294:2] We shall find no fiend in hell can match the fury of a disappointed woman.—Cibber: Love's Last Shift, act iv.
[294:3] Born in a cellar, and living in a garret.—Foote: The Author, act 2.
Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred.—Byron: A Sketch.
[295:1] See Shakespeare, page 72.
[295:2] Be wise to-day, 't is madness to defer.—Young: Night Thoughts, night i. line 390.