Strike as much terror unto us as crowns—
Love, if thou'lt suffer this, and wink at them,
Make us esteem a pebble for a gem,
Stoop, cringe, adore, sue, flatter, and admire,
And in our bosoms teen'st thy amorous fire—
May all the haggish Furies soundly lash
And with their snaky whips thy sinews gash!
1730May all the tortures Hell encloseth fall
On thee, if not enough, and more than all.
But we—we men, will be no more thy slaves