The conful's loft! dreadful reverse of fate!
It over-turns my reason, makes me doubt
If virtue ough to have regard from men,
Since it has none from heaven.

Crown's Regulus.

'The gods in vain, plant vertue here below; It ripens not by any fun, or time:

This world for virtue is too cold a clime.

Crown's Califte.

VICISSITUDE.

For what is it on earth,

Nay under heav'n, continues at a flay?
Ebbs not the fea, when it hath overflown?
Follows not darkness, when the day is gone?
And fee we not fometimes the eye of heav'n

Dimm'd with o'er flying clouds? there's not that work
Of careful nature, or of cunning art,

How ftrong, how beauteous, or how rich it be,

But falls in time to ruin.

Shakespear's Sir John Oldcastle.
Though land tarry in your heirs, fome forty,
Fifty defcents, the longer liver at last yet
Muft thrust them out of it; if no quirk in law,
Or odd vice oi their own not do it first.
We fee those changes, daily: the fair lands,
That were the clients, are the lawyers, now:
And those rich mannors, there, of good-man Taylors,
Had once more wood upon them, than the yard

By which they were measur❜d for the last purchase.
Nature hath thefe viciffitudes, fhe makes

No man a state of perpetuity.

Johnfon's Devil's an Afs.

Ev'n like fome empty creek, that long hath lain

Left or neglected of the river by,

Whofe fearching fides pleas'd with a wand'ring vein,
Finding fome little way that clofe did lie,
Steal in at first, then other ftreams again
Second the first, then more than all supply;

'Till all the mighty main hath borne at last
The glory of his chiefeft pow'r that way;
Plying this new found pleafant room fo faft,

Till all be full, and all be at a flay:
And then about, and back again doth caft,
Leaving that full to fall another way:
So fares this hum'rous world; that ever more
Wrapt with the current of a prefent course,
Runs into that which lay contemn'd before;

Then glutted, leaves the fame, and falls t' a worfe: Now zeal holds all, no life but to adore;

The cold in fpir't and faith is of no force.

Straight all that holy was, unhallow'd lies,
The scatter'd carcaffes of ruin'd vows;

Then truth is falfe, and now hath blindness eyes;
Then zeal trusts all, now scarcely what it knows;
That evermore too foolish or too wife,

It fatal is to be feduc'd with fhews.

Daniel's Mufophilus. Thus doth the ever-changing course of things Run a perpetual circle, ever turning; And that fame day, that highest glory brings, Brings us unto the point of back-returning.

Daniel's Cleopatra,

Is there no conftancy in earthly things?
No happiness in us, but what, must alter?
No life, without the heavy load of fortune?
What miferys we are, and to ourselves?
Ev'n then when full content feems to fet by us,
What daily fores and forrows?

Beaumont and Fletcher's Monfieur Thomas. Thus run the wheels of state, now up, now down, And none that lives finds fafety in a crown.

Markham and Sampfon's Herod and Antipater.
Oh fad viciffitude

Of earthly things! to what untimely end
Are all the fading glories that attend
VOL. III.

M

Up

Upon the state of greateft monarchs, brought!
What fafety can by policy be wrought,
Or reft be found on fortune's restless wheel!
Toft humane states are here inforc❜d to feel
Her kingdom fuch, as floating veffels find
The ftormy ocean, when each boist'rous wind
Let loofe from Eol's adamantine caves,

Rush forth, and rowl into impetuous waves
The fea's whole waters; when fome times on high
The raised bark doth fome time kiss the sky,
Some times from that great height defcending down,
Doth feem to fall as low as Acheron.

Such is the frail condition of man's ftate.

VICTORY.

1. Are not conquefts good titles?

2. Conquefts are great thefts.

May's Henry II

Then would I rob for kingdoms, and if I Obtain'd, fain would I fee him that durft call The conqueror a thief?

2. Thy council hath shed as much blood as would Make another fea: Valour I cannot

Call it, and barbaroufness is a word too mild.

Lilly's Midas. Base feem'd the conqueft, which no danger grac'd. E. of Sterline's Darius,

Conqueft by blood is not fo fweet as wit;

For howfoe're nice virtue cenfures it,

He hath the grace of war, that hath war's profit.

Difcretion

Marfon's Sophonisba,

And hardy valour are the twins of honour,
And nurs'd together make a conqueror ;
Divided, but a talker.

Beaumont and Fletcher's Bonduca.

In all defigns, this ftill must be confeft,
He that himself fubdues, conquers the beft.
Webfter and Rowley's Thracian Wonder.

The

The day is ours, tho' it coft dear; yet 'tis not
Enough to get a victory, if we lose
The true use of it.

Maffinger's Bafhful Lover 'Tis proper to choice fpirits to relieve

As well as conquer men ; and when they dye, It will more crown their memory, to leave Favours, than conquefts in their diary,

Aleyn's Poitiers,

Fear not his numbers: victories confift
In minds not multitudes: most of their part
Favour our caufe, and coldly will refift:
Fear not the hand, affured of the heart.

Aleyn's Henry VII.

For 'tis not victory to win the field,
Unless we make our enemies to yield
More to our juftice, than our force; and fo
As well inftruct, as overcome our foe.

Gomerfall.

1. I not deny your conqueft, for you may
Have vertues to intitle 't yours; but otherwife,
If one of strange and ill contriv'd defires,
One of a narrow or intemp'rate mind,
Prove mafter of the field, I cannot fay,
That he hath conquer'd, but that he hath had
A good hand of it; he hath got the day,
But not fubdu'd the men: victory being
Not fortune's gift, but the deferving's purchase.
2. Whom doft thou call deferving?

1. Him, who dares

Dye next his heart in cold blood; him, who fights

Not out of thirst, or the unbridled luft

Of a flesh'd (word, but out of conscience,
To kill the enemy, not the man who when
The lawrell's planted on his brow, ev'n then
Under that fafe protecting wreath, will not
Contemn the thunderer; but will
Acknowledge all his ftrength deriv'd, and in
M 2

A pious way of gratitude return
Some of the fpoil to heaven in facrifice;
As tenants do the first fruits of their trees,
In an acknowledgment that the reft is due.

Cartwright's Royal Slar

1. To be o'recome by his victorious fword,
Will comfort to our fall afford;

Our ftrength may yield to his, but 'tis not fit
Our virtue fhould to his fubmit

In that, Ianthe, I must be

Advanc'd, and greater far than he.

2. Fighting with him who ftrives to be your friend, You not with virtue, but with pow'r contend.

Sir W. Davenant's Siege of Rhodes. Conqueft of realms compar'd to that of minds, Shews but like mischief of outragious winds; Making no ufe of force, but to deface, Or tear the rooted from their native place: Who by distress at laft are valiant made, And take their turn invaders to invade : From woods they march victorious back again To cities, the wall'd parks of herded men Victors by conqu❜ring realms are not fecure; Nor feem of any thing, but hatred fure. A king who conquers minds does fo improve The conquer'd, that they ftill the victor love.

Sir W. Davenant to the King.

He who commends the vanquifh'd, fpeaks the pow'r,
And glorifies the worthy conqueror.

For he who conquests wifely has design'd,
Will never leave an enemy behind.

Beginnings fhould to th' end still useful be ;
'Tis more to use, than gain a victory.

Herrick.

E. of Orrery's Mustapha.

What Alexander ne'er could reach, I won;

Had he subdu'd to the Chinenfian shore,

Then with fome reafon he had wept for more:

But,