Date: 1700, 1702

"I wage not War with fair ones; / But wish you would efface those ugly Thoughts, / That live in your Remembrance to perplex you; / Let Joy, the native of your Soul return, / And Love's gay God sit smiling in your Eyes, / As e'rst he did."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1700, 1702

"And all fires those that lighted up my Soul / Glory and bright Ambition languish now, / And leave me dark and gloomy as the Grave."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1700, 1702

"Thought is Damnation, 'tis the Plague of Devils. / To think on what they are! and see this Weapon / Shall shield me from it, plunge me in forgetfulness. / Er'e the dire Scorpion Thought can rouse to sting me."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1702

"O Woman, Woman, of Artifice created! whose Nature, even distracted, has a Cunning: In vain let Man his Sense, his Learning boast, when Womans Madness over-rules his Reason."

— Farquhar, George (1676/7-1707)

Date: 1703

"Gold is a sure Bait to gain him, no other Loadstone can attrack his iron heart, 'tis proof against the force of Beauty, else I should not need this Stratagem, for Nature has not prov'd a Nigard to my Daughter."

— Centlivre [née Freeman; other married name Carroll], Susanna (bap. 1669?, d. 1723)

Date: 1703

"Fast! Then for a Window.-- / This shou'd be one. Down treacherous Bars, / Whose Iron frames scarce Match your Masters Soul / For hardness, since you yield to my weak Hands"

— Manning, Francis (c. 1673-1755)

Date: 1703

"Ah! Heart of Oak, true as Steel I warrant thee; what, you must needs know Mr. Queenlove."

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

Date: 1703

"But Beauty, bewitching Beauty, has Power at any time to unlock the Closet of my Breast; your Charms are irresistibly engaging"

— Centlivre, Susanna (c.1670-1723); Moliére (1622-1673)

Date: 1703

"My Father! oh let me unlade my Breast, / Pour out the fullness of my Soul before you, / Show ev'ry tender, ev'ry grateful Thought, / This wond'rous Goodness stirs."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"A rising storm of Passion shook her Breast, / Her Eyes a piteous show'r of Tears let fall, / And then she sigh'd as if her Heart were breaking."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)