He that deals all by ftrength, his wit is fhallow:
When a man's head goes thro', each limb will follow
Webfter's White Devil.
He that can compass me, and know my drifts,
May fay he hath put a girdle 'bout the world,
And founded all her quick-fands.
Webster's Dutchefs of Malfy.
-This 'tis for a puny
In policy's Protean school, to try conclufions
With one that hath commenc'd and gone out doctor.
If I difcover what but now he bragg'd of,
I fhall not be believ'd: If I fall off
From him, his threats and actions go together;
And there's no hope of fafety, till I get
A plummet, that may found his deepest councils.
I must obey and serve him. Want of skill
Now makes me play the rogue against my will.
Maflinger's Duke of Milan.
The greateft politician may be
Deceiv'd fometimes; wit without brains we fee.
Shirley's Witty Fair One.
That with their crabbed faces, and fly tricks
Legerdemain, ducks, cringes, formal beards,
Crifp'd hairs, and punctual cheats, do wriggle in
Their heads firft, like a fox, to rooms of ftate,
Then the whole body follows.
John Ford's Lover's Melancholy. Policy wills fome feeming caufe be had,
To make that good, which juftice knows for bad. Jones's Adrafta.
When time has made bold with the king and fubject,
Throwing down all fence that stood 'twixt their pow'r
And others right; are, on a change,
Like wanton falmons coming in with floods,
That leap o'er wires and nets; and make their way,
To be at their return, to ev'ry one a prey.
Have evermore a taint of vanity ;.
As nally fill to fhew, and boaft a plot,
As they are greedy to contrive it.
Sir W. Davenant's Fair Favourite.
240P O PULARITY.
I love the people;
But do not like to flage me to their eyes:
Though it do well, I do not relish well
Their loud applause and Ave's vehement :
Nor do I think the man of fafe discretion,
'That does affect it.
Shakespear's Meafure for Meafure:
Ourself, and Busby, Bagot here, and Green
Obferv'd his courtship to the common people:
How he did feem to dive into their hearts,
With humble and familiar courtesy;
What rev'rence he did throw away on flaves;
Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of fmiles,
And patient under-bearing of his fortune,
As 'twere to banish their affects with him.
Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench;
A brace of dray-men bid, God fpeed him well:
And had the tribute of his fupple knee,
With- -Thanks, my countrymen,
As were our England in reverfion his,
And he our fubjects next degree in hope.
Shakespear's King Richard II.
Who hates not the vulgar, deferves not love
Of the virtuous: And to affect praise of
That we defpife, how ridiculous is it?
Chapman's Widow's Tears.
Look how Thames, enrich'd with many a flood,
And goodly river, (that have made their graves,
And bury'd both their names, and all their good,
Within his greatness, to augment his waves)
Glides on with pomp of waters, unwithstood,
Unto the ocean; which his tribute craves,
And lays up all his wealth within that pow'r,
Which in itself all greatness doth devour :
So flock the mighty, with their foll'wing train,
Unto the all-receiving Bullingbroke;
Who wonders at himself, how he should gain
So many hearts as now his party took ;
And with what eafe, and with how flender pain,
His fortune gives him more than he could look:
What he imagin'd never could be wrought,
Is pour'd upon him far beyond his thought:
So, often, things which feem at firft in fhew,
Without the compafs of accomplishment;
Once ventur❜d on, to that fuccefs do grow,
That ev'n the authors do admire th'event:
So many means which they did never know,
Do fecond their defigns, and do prefent
Strange unexpected helps; and chiefly then,
When th'actors are reputed worthy men.
They must create new monfters, and then quell 'em, To make their arts feem nothing. Would you have Such an Herculean actor in the scene,
And not his Hydra? They mult sweat no less
To fit their properties, than to express their parts.
I never courted popular applaufe;
Feafted the men of action; or labour'd
By prodigal gifts to draw the needy foldier,
The tribunes or centurions to a faction;
Of which, I would rife up the head against him.
I hold no place of strength, fortress, or castle
In my command, that can give fanctuary
To malecontents, or countenance rebellion:
I've built no palaces to face the court;
Nor do my follow'rs brav'ry fhame his train;
And though I cannot blame my fate for want,
My competent means of life deferves no envy ;
In what then am I dangerous?
Mafinger's Emperor of the Eaft.
1. How full of hidden ambiguities
Grow thefe diftracted times?
The factious common's giddy censure stand
So strange and doubtful, that 'twere policy indeed
To found 'em to the bottom;
2. To be a crouching, crawling, fawn ng cur,
To lick the lazy hands of prating priests,
With proteftations of integrity
Devoted wholly to them;
With true compunction of unfeigned grief,
Submiffively to crave their gracious pardon :
To paw the ragged multitude with praise
Of their ingenious care and fervent love
For prefervation of the commonwealth;
To promise fair rewards to froward fools;
Perhaps, with dirty feet to mire with fawnings,
And then be beaten with the shameful staff
Of foul reproach:
To do all this, were to be born a fool;
To live a flave, and die a coward.
Death! I will ftand between the counter-buffs
Of thefe devouring storms in fpite of hell;
Nor priest, nor peafant fhall inforce me stoop
An inch to either: As I have liv'd, I'll fall;
Or freed from both, or rent up root and all.
Hemmings's Jews Tragedy. · POVERTY
Rich fly the poor, as good men fhun the devil!
Heywood's Woman kill'd with Kindness.
Poverty, thou bane of chastity,
Poifon of beauty, broker of maidenheads!
I fee when force, nor wit can scale the hold,
Wealth muft; he'll ne'er be won, that defies gold:
But lives there fuch a creature? Oh, 'tis rare,
To find a woman chafte, that's poor and fair!
Dekker and Webfler's Weftward Hoe.
-A poor fpirit,
Is poorer than a poor purse.
Tourneur's Atheist's Tragedy.
Have wakeful nights, whilft the poor man's turf
Begets a peaceful fleep; in which they're bleft
From frigid fears all day, at night with reft.
Goffe's Careless Shepherdess. Poor men are born to wrongs; low are their ranks; The more they're trod on, the more they must give
Dauborne's Poor Man's Comfort.
With poverty in love we only close,
Because our lovers it most truly fhews;
When they who in that blessed
Knew neither poverty, nor want of love;
The hatred which they bore was only this,
That ev'ry one did hate to do amiss:
Their fortune still was fubject to their will;
Their want, O happy! was the want of ill.
Brown's Paftorals.
1. Our want with this philofophy doth well
Agree; but yet I hope your conftancy
Will yield it a far lefs uneafy task
To commend poverty, than fuffer it.
2. Not fo, for wit is heav'n's gift to those
Are fhap'd of purer clay; but patience
Each noble mind beftows upon itself.
To mortal men great loads allotted be;
But of all packs, no pack like poverty.
When pow'r, that may command, fo much defcends; Their bondage, whom it ftoops to, it intends.
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