He hath no leifure to defcry Sir W. Davenant's Cruel Brother. Time lays his hand On pyramids of brafs, and ruins quite Our time confumes like fmoke, and posts away; Stretch'd from a fwollen hand: the more extent Ibid. Watkyns. TITLE S. Now does he feel his title Hang loofe about him, like a giant's robe Upon a dwarfish thief. Shakespear's Macbeth. Thou wert the first, mad'ft merit know her ftrength, And thofe that lack'd it, to fufpect at length, That blood not minds, but minds did blood adorn, These were thy knowing arts: which who doth now Them in, if not, from thee; or must commit Johnson's Epigrams. Man is a name of honour for a king; Chapman's Buffy D'ambois. Where titles prefume to thrust before fit Chapman Johnfon and Marfton's Eastward Hoe, What tho' he hath no title? He hath might: Daniel's Civil War. He that above the state of man will strain His ftile, and will not be that which we are ; Not only us contemns, but doth difdain The gods themselves, with whom he would compare. After me, let none whom greatness fhrowds, Ibid. Truft tumid titles, nor oftentive fhews, Sails fwol'n with winds; whilft emulating clouds, That which puffs up, oft at the laft o'erthrows. E. of Sterline's Crafus. All tranfitory titles I deteft, A virtuous life I mean to boast alone; Drayton's Legend of Matilda. To names, and to be limitted doth fcorn: Drayton in the Mirror for Magiftrates. -Thefe -Thefe are lords That have bought titles. Men may merchandize Heywood's Royal King. We all are foldiers, and all venture lives : Beaumont and Fletcher's King or no King. I look down upon him With fuch contempt and fcorn, as on my flave; He mult derive from his great grandfire's afhes: Beaumont and Fletcher's Cuftom of the Country. The bafer fpirit of our prefent time Hath caft itself below the ancient worth Of our fore-fathers! from whofe noble deeds Ignobly we derive our pedigrees. Are you in love with title? Tourneur's Atheist's Tragedy. I will have a herald, whofe continual practice? Or an antiquary in old buskins. Webfter's Devil's Law Cafe. Am I not emperor? men call me fo: A rev'rend title, empty attributes, And a long page of words follow my name, But no fubftantial true prerogative. Goffe's Raging Turk. -If If that titles Or the adorned name of queen could take me, Maffinger and Dekker's Virgin Martyr. Of dignity and offices, that puff up The bubble pride, 'till it fwell big, and burst: Randolph's Mufes Looking-Glafs. -Brufh off 'This honour'd duft that foils your company; Of fools, the wife man's pity. Habbington's Queen of Arragon. -I'll difinvest Myfelf of all; additions can but fwell Your friendship. Sicily and Naples. 1. Thy blood runs high; there's not one purple stream Cas'd in these azure veins, but is deriv'd From the spring of princely anceftry; and thou art 2. 'Las! what are thefe, bnt what the owner makes them? Of themselves nothing, only as we use them, Are Are good or bad, a bleffing or a curse : 1. But then their virtues, by a thrifty providence, Are all fum'd up in thy bleft self, and make thee A happiness, which if enjoy'd, must be Beftow'd by gift, because above all purchase. Had my birth but been As free from height as from ambition, Sicily and Naples. Or chain them till they ftarve, to fome deform'd To edge a line of words, and make our names fwell Jones's Adrafta. Lleuellin To pow'r, adoption makes thy title good; Sir W. Davenant's Gondibert. I learned to admire goodness; that Sir W. Davenant's Siege. Princes may eafily pay their debts, when Sir W. Davenant's Albovine. |