. My Phabe fhadow'd in a fable cloud? Those pearly drops which thou let'ft fall like beads, Numb'ring on them thy veftal orifons,
Alas are spent in vain; I love thee ftill,
In 'midst of all these fhow'rs thou fweetlier fcents't,
Like a green meadow on an April day;
In which the fun and weft wind play together,
Striving to catch, and drink the balmy drops.
Beaumont and Fletcher's Queen of Corinth.
He amongst all the ladies
Singled out that dear form, who ever liv'd,
As cold in luft, as fhe is now in death.
O vicious minute!
Unfit but for relation to be spoke of
Then with a face more impudent than his vizard
He hurry'd her amidst a throng of panders,
That live upon damnation of both kinds,
And fed the rav'nous vulture of his luft:
O death to think on't! She, her honour forc'd,
Deem'd it a nobler dowry for her name,
To die with poison, than to live with shame.
Tourneur's Revenger's Tragedy,
Lucreece was chafte after the rape; but where
The blood confents, there needs no ravisher.
What foolish thief would rob an altar,
Be guilty of the facrilege, to gain
A brazen cenfor? Why fhould you then affect
A fin fo great, as spoiling me of honour,
For fuch a poor gain, as the fatisfying
Your fenfual appetite? Think, good my lord,
The pleasures you fo covet, are but like flatt'ring
That shew the rifing fun in his full brightness;
Yet do ere night bury his head in tempefts.
Glapthorne's Albertus Wallenftein.
Kill me, oh kill me! rather let me die
Than live to see the jewel that adorns
The fouls of virtuous virgins ravish'd from me.
Do not add fin to fin, and at a price
That ruins me, and not inriches you,
Purchase damnation: Do not, do not do't;
Sheath here your fword, and my departing foul
Like your good angel, fhall follicit heav'n
To dash out your offences; let my flight
Be pure and spotlefs: Do not injure that,
Manhood would blush to think on: It is all
A maid's divinity: Wanting her life,
She's a fair coarfe; wanting her chastity,
A fpotted foul of living infamy.
Methinks I ftand like Tarquin, in the night,
When he defil'd the chastity of Rome,
Doubtful of what to do; and like a thief
I take each noise to be an officer.
She has a ravishing feature, and her mind
Is of a purer temper than her body:
Her virtues more than beauty ravish me,
And I commit ev'n with her piety,
A kind of inceft with religion:
Though I do know it is a deed of death,
Condemn'd to torments in the other world,
Such tempting sweetness dwells in ev'ry limb,
That I must venture my effential parts,
For the fruition of a moment's luft;
A pleasure dearly bought
Hemmings's Fatal Contract.
1. Accufe tyrannick heav'n that made you bright,
Accuse those killing eyes; not my weak fight:
I did a crime, without my own confent;
And justice pardons, where there's no intent:
When love commands, who dares be innocent?
Blame not the ship that falls foul on another;
But blame the winds that blow it: Neighbourly ftreams
Keep in their deftin'd bounds, till fhow'rs from heav'n
Conftrain them to invade the friendly earth
With as unqueftion'd power
As that which gives it from the highest cause :
Celestial vifions cancel written laws.
2. If man may act whate'er he's mov'd to do;
The fame man is both judge and party too :
Bodies and fouls are fo in marriage ty'd,
Their diftinct iffues hardly are defcry'd ;
But well known body is the furer fide.
Infpir'd thoughts may flow from heav'n or hell,
But Ethiop's baftards will their fathers tell :
Charge not the gods with thy infernal fins ;
Murder and piety cannot pass for twins.
1. I urg'd their pow'r, but now defend their justice:
Impartial heav'n, not robbing all the reft,
Could not permit by one to be poffefs'd
But, if you call a crime, what heav'n commands,
Tho' clear'd above, yet I have loft my cause.
In vain the pris'ner pleads his innocence.
Who'd rather die, than anger his accufer.
Beauty I love, but I hate toilfome rapes ;
I love good wine, but would not tread the grapes.
Without both care and will to fhun the worst;
It b'ing in pow'r to do well, and with chear,
Is ftupid negligence, and worse than fear.
Chapman's Revenge of Buffy D'ambois.
-Men by timidity
Are on more dang'rous refolutions caft,
Than by the wildness of temerity:
Virtue's defects nothing of her poffefs,
But rashness may; for that is an excess.
Rashness her heat but to first onsets brings;
Then flugs, like wafps, when they have loft their ftings.
-Rashness, gentlemen,
Gives the first onfet fiercely; then recoils,
As wafps, when they have loft their ftings.
258.201. REASON.
Glapthorne's Albertus Wallenftein.
This spark of reafon is not ours,
But lent us from above:
The gods do give and take the fame,
And make us loath and love.
Brandon's Antony to Octavia.
If the beam of our lives had not one fcale
Of reafon to poize another of fenfuality;
The blood and bafenefs of our natures would
Conduct us to moft prepoft'rous conclufions :
But we have reafon, to cool our raging
Motions, our carnal ftings, our unbitted lufts.
How many eyes haft thou to fee thy fhame,
And yet how blind once to prevent defame.
Hence do we out of words create us arts;
Of which the people notwithstanding bet
Masters, and without rules do them impart :
Reason we make an art, yet none agree
What this true reason is; nor yet have pow'rs,
To level others reafon unto ours.
Lord Brooke of Human Learning.
Oh moft imperfect light of human reason,
Thou mak❜it us fo unhappy, to foresee
Webster's Dutchess of Malfy.
Thou bought'ft thy reafon at too dear a rate;
For thou haft all thy actions bounded in
With curious rules, when ev'ry beast is free.
Beaumont and Fletcher's King and No King.
There's
There's nothing done, but there is reafon for it,
If a man could find it; For what's the reason
Your citizens wives continually wear hats,
But to fhew the defire they always have
To be cover'd? Or why do your sempfters
Spend their time in pricking, and your ladies
In poking of ruffs, but only to fhew
They do as they would be done unto ? Or why
Does your inns-of-court man lie with his landress
In a long vacation, but because he
Hath no money to go abroad? Or why do
Your old judges widows always marry
Young gentlemen, but to fhew that they love
Execution better than judgment.
Man is not the prince of creatures,
But in reafon; fail that, he is worse
Than horse, or dog, or beast of wilderness.
Field's Amends for Ladies.
Thofe fond philofophers that magnify
Our humane nature, and did boaft we had
Such a prerogative in our rational foul,
Convers'd but little with the world; confin'd
To cells and unfrequented woods, they knew not
The fierce vexation of community;
Elfe they had taught, our reafon is our lofs;
And but a privilege that exceedeth sense,
By nearer apprehenfion, of what wounds,
To know ourselves moft miferable.
Where men have fev'ral faiths, to find the true,
We only can the aid of reafon use ;
'Tis reafon fhews us which we should efchew,
When by comparison we learn to chuse.
But though we there on reafon muft rely,
Where men to fev'ral faiths their minds diffofe;
Yet after reafon's choice, the schools are shy
To let it judge the very faith it chofe.
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