Date: Licens'd Decemb. 22. 1691

"O Leonora! (continued he) how hast thou stamp'd thine Image on my Soul! How much dearer am I to my self, since I have had thy Heavenly Form in keeping!"

— Congreve, William (1670-1729)

Date: Licens'd Decemb. 22. 1691

"His Incognita was rooted in his Heart, yet could he not Comfort himself with any Hopes when he should see her."

— Congreve, William (1670-1729)

Date: Licens'd Decemb. 22. 1691

"If your fair Eyes, upon the breaking up of this, meet with somewhat too quick a Surprize, make thence, I beseech you, some reflection upon the Condition I must needs have been in, at the suddain Appearance of that Sun of Beauty, which at once shone so full upon my Soul."

— Congreve, William (1670-1729)

Date: Licens'd Decemb. 22. 1691

"Your Tongue pursued the Victory of your Eyes, and you did not give me time to rally my poor Disordered Senses, so as to make a tolerable Retreat."

— Congreve, William (1670-1729)

Date: Licens'd Decemb. 22. 1691

"The Ladies Hearts, particularly the Incognita and Leonora's, beat time to the Horses Hoofs, and hope and fear made a mock Fight within their tender Breasts, each wishing and doubting success where she lik'd."

— Congreve, William (1670-1729)

Date: Licens'd Decemb. 22. 1691

"She had proceeded thus far in a maze of Thought, when she started to find her self so lost to her Reason, and would have trod back again that path of deluding Fancy."

— Congreve, William (1670-1729)

Date: Licens'd Decemb. 22. 1691

"For still I did preserve your Image in my Heart, and you were ever present to my dearest Thoughts."

— Congreve, William (1670-1729)

Date: Licens'd Decemb. 22. 1691

"I burn and am consumed with hopeless Love; those Beams in whose soft temperate warmth I wanton'd heretofore, now flash destruction to my Soul, my Treacherous greedy Eyes have suck'd the glaring Light, they have united all its Rays, and, like a burning-Glass, Convey'd the pointed Meteor to-my Hea...

— Congreve, William (1670-1729)

Date: Licens'd Decemb. 22. 1691

"Sure I dream, or I am mad, and fansie it to be Love; Foolish Girl, recal thy banish'd Reason.--Ah! would it were no more, would I could rave, sure that would give me Ease, and rob me of the Sense of Pain; at least, among my wandring Thoughts, I should at sometime light upon Aurelian, and fansie ...

— Congreve, William (1670-1729)

Date: 1704

"Erect your schemes with as much method and skill as you please; yet, if the materials be nothing but dirt, spun out of your own entrails (the guts of modern brains), the edifice will conclude at last in a cobweb; the duration of which, like that of other spiders’ webs, may be imputed to their be...

— Swift, Jonathan (1667-1745)