Where dwells no Tenderness, no womanish Passions.
I cannot sigh, nor weep, nor think of Love,
But as a foolish Dream that’s gone and past.
Revenge has took possession of my Soul,
And drove those Shadows thence; and shows me now
Love, in so poor, so despicable a Shape,
So quite devested of his Artful Beauty,
That I’m asham’d I ever was his Votary.
Well, here’s my Challenge to Antonio;
But how to get it to him is the Question.