Selected quad for the lemma: truth_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A27298
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The lady's looking-glass, to dress herself by, or, The whole art of charming by Mrs. Behn.
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Behn, Aphra, 1640-1689.
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1697
(1697)
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Wing B1738; ESTC R30217
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10,257
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28
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approve Your Prudence never acts in vain The Goodness and Complaisance of Iris. WHO but your Lovers fair Iris doubts but you are the most complaisant Person in the World And that with so much Sweetness you oblige all that you command in yielding and as you gain the Heart of both Sexes with the Affability of your noble Temper so all are proud and vain of obliging you And Iris you may live assur'd that your Empire is eternally establish'd by your Beauty and your Goodness Your Power is confirm'd and you grow in Strength every Minute Your Goodness gets you Friends and your Beauty Lovers This Goodness is not one of those whose Folly renders it easie to every Desirer but a pure Effect of the Generosity of your Soul such as Prudence alone manages according to the Merit of the Person to whom it is extended and those whom you esteem receive the sweet Marks of it and only your Lovers complain Yet even then you charm And though sometimes you can be a little disturb'd yet through your Anger your Goodness shines and you are but too much afraid that that may bear a false Interpretation For oftentimes Scandal makes that pass for an Effect of Love which is purely that of Complaisance Never had any Body more Tenderness for their Friends than Iris Their Presence gives her Joy their Absence Trouble and when she cannot see them the finds no Pleasure like speaking of them obligingly Friendship reigns in your Heart and Sincerity on your Tongue Your Friendship is so strong so constant and so tender that it charms pleases and satisfies all that are not your Adorers 'T is therefore Damon is excusable if he be not contented with your noble Friendship alone for he is the most tender of that Number No! Give me all th' impatient Lover cries Without your Soul I cannot live Dull Friendship cannot mine suffice That dies for all you have to give The Smiles the Vows the Heart must all be mine I cannot spare one Thought or Wish of thine I sigh I languish all the Day Each Minute ushers in my Groans To e'ry God in vain I pray In e'ry Grove repeat my Moans Still Iris Charms are all my Sorrows Themes They pain me Waking and they wreck in Dreams Return fair Iris Oh return Lest sighing long your Slave destroys I wish I rave I faint I burn Restore me quickly all my Joys Your Mercy else will come too late Distance in Love more cruel is than Hate The Wit of Iris. YOU are deceiv'd in me fair Iris if you take me for one of those ordinary Glasses that represent the Beauty only of the Body I remark to you also the Beauties of the Soul And all about you declares yours the finest that ever was formed that you have a Wit that surprizes and is always new 'T is none of those that loses its Lustre when one considers it the more we examine yours the more adorable we find it You say nothing that is not at once agreeable and solid 't is always quick and ready without Impertinence that little Vanity of the Fair who when they know they have Wit rarely manage it so as not to abound in Talking and think that all they say must please because luckily they sometimes chance to do so But Iris never speaks but 't is of use and gives a Pleasure to all that hears her She has the perfect Art of penetrating even the most secret Thoughts How often have you known without being told all that has past in Damon's Heart For all great Wits are Prophets too Tell me Oh tell me Charming Prophetess For you alone can tell my Love's Success The Lines in my dejected Face I fear will lead you to no kind Result It is your own that you must trace Those of your Heart you must consult 'T is there my Fortune I must learn And all that Damon does concern I tell you that I love a Maid As bright as Heav'n of Angel-hue The softest Nature ever made Whom I with Sighs and Vows pursue Oh tell me charming Prophetess Shall I this lovely Maid possess A thousand Rivals do obstruct my Way A thousand Fears they do create They throng about her all the Day Whilst I at awful Distance wait Say will the lovely Maid so fickle prove To give my Rivals Hope as well as Love She has a thousand Charms of Wit With all the Beauty Heav'n e're gave Oh! Let her not make use of it To flatter me into the Slave Oh! Tell me Truth to ease my Pain Say rather I shall die by her Disdain The Modesty of Iris. I Perceive fair Iris you have a Mind to tell me I have entertain'd you too long with a Discourse on yourself I know your Modesty makes this Declaration an offence and you suffer me with Pain to unveil those Treasures you wou'd hide Your Modesty that so commendable a Vertue in the Fair and so peculiar to you is here a little too severe Did I flatter you you shou'd blush Did I seek by praising you to shew an Art of Speaking finely you might chide But O Iris I say nothing but such plain Truths as all the World can witness are so And so far I am from Flattery that I seek no Ornament of Words Why do you take such Care to conceal your Vertues They have too much Lustre not to be seen in spight of all your Modesty Your Wit your Youth and Reason oppose themselves against this dull Obstructer of our Happiness Abate O Iris a little of this Vertue since you have so many other to defend yourself against the Attacks of your Adorers You yourself have the least Opinion of your own Charms And being the only Person in the World that is not in love with 'em you hate to pass whole Hours before your Looking-Glass and to pass your time like most of the idle Fair in dressing and setting off those Beauties which need so little Art You more wise disdain to give those Hours to the Fatigue of Dressing which you know so well how to employ a thousand Ways The Muses have blest you above your Sex and you know how to gain a Conquest with your Pen more absolutely than all the industrious Fair who trust to Dress and Equipage I have a thousand things to tell you more but willingly resign my place to Damon that faithful Lover he will speak more ardently than I For let a Glass use all its Force yet when it speaks its best it speaks but coldly If my Glass O charming Iris have the good Fortune which I cou'd never entirely boast to be believ'd 't will serve at least to convince you I have not been so guilty of Flattery as I have a thousand times been charg'd Since then my Passion is equal to your Beauty without Comparison or End believe O lovely Maid how I sigh in your Absence And be perswaded to lessen my pain and restore me to my Joys for there is no Torment so great as the Absence of a Lover from his Mistress of which this is the Idea The Effects of Absence from what we love Thou one continu'd Sigh all over Pain Eternal Wish but wish alas in vain Thou languishing impatient Hoper on A busie Toiler and yet still undone A breaking Glimpse of distant Day Inticing on and leading more astray Thou Joy in Prospect future Bliss extream But ne're to be possest but in á Dream Thou fab'lous Goddess which the ravish'd Boy In happy Slumbers proudly did enjoy But waking found an Airy Cloud he prest His Arms came empty to his panting Breast Thou Shade that only haunts the Soul by Night And when thou shou'dst inform thou fly'st the Sight Thou false Idea of the thinking Brain That labours for the charming Form in vain Which if by Chance it catch thou' rt lost again The End of the Looking-Glass