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EDGAR, A TRAGEDY.
ACT I.
SCENE I. Landschap of a River, Trees, Palace, &c.
Editha.
Edith.
PRincess! a Title boading miserie;
Curst in the Sex, more curst in the Degree!
Our every Look makes an Affair of State,
And every Sigh provokes a grave Debate.
No popular Insurrections with such Care
Inspected, as our rising Passions are.
Love, like our breath, the Will's vain power defies;
Sooner the heart, then its emotions, dies.
Yet we Dissembling, with a faithless Frown,
Meanly severe, our secret Care disown:
Though still the Darling, which our Looks detest,
(Onely retir'd) lies panting in our breast.
Unhappy Women —equally a prey,
If sway'd, or if our Inclinations sway!