Then Catiline's refolve is judg'd moft fit,
With fire, not water, to extinguish it.

Aleyn's Henry VII.

Want is a fofter wax, that takes thereon,
This, that, and ev'ry base Impreffion.

Need is no vice at all; though here it be
With men, a loathed inconveniency.

For want's a real evil to mankind;
What e'er we need, we languifh till we find.

WAR.

Herrick.

'Herrick.

Alex. Brome.

It is the beft with foreign foes to fight
Abroad, as did the haughty Hannibal,
And not at home to feel their hateful fpight:
Of all the reft it is the greatest thrall,

That foes arriv'd fhould fpoil our fubjects all:
And for a truth this always hath been found,
He fpeedeth beft, which fights on foreign ground.
Mirrour for Magiftrates.
Laftly flood war, in glitt'ring arms yclad,

With vilage grim, ftern looks, and blackly hew'd; In his right hand, a naked fword he had,

That to the hilts was all with blood embru'd: And in his left (that kings and kingdoms ru'd,) Famine and fire he held, and there withal He razed Towns, and threw down tow'rs and all. Cities he fack'd, and realms that whilome flower'd In honour, glory, and rule above the best, He over-whelm'd, and all their fame devour'd, Confum'd, deftroy'd, wafted, and never ceaft, 'Till he their wealth, their name, and all opprest: His face fore-hew'd with wounds, and by his fide There hung his targe, with gafhes deep and wide:

In

In midst of which depainted there we found
Deadly debate, all full of snaky hair,
That with a bloody fillet was ybound,

Out breathing nought, but difcord ev'ry where Lord Dorfet in the Mirrour for Magifirates. When thou famous victory hast won,

And high amongst all knights haft hung thy fhield, Thenceforth the fuit of earthly conqueft fhun,

And wash thy hands from guilt of bloody field: For blood can nought but fin, and wars but forrows yield. Spenfer's Fairy Queen. In thy faint flumbers I by thee have watch'd, And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars; Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed; Cry, courage! to the field! and thou hast talk'd Of fallies and retires; of trenches, tents, Of palifadoes, frontiers, parapets, Of bafilisks, of cannon, culverin, Of prifoners ranfom, and of foldiers flain, And all the current of a heady fight.

Shakespear's First Part of K. Henry IV.
In peace, there's nothing fo becomes a man
As modeft ftillness and humility:

But when the blaft of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tyger;
Stiffen the finews, fummon up the blood,
Difguife fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible afpect;

Let it pry through the portage of the head,
Like the brafs-cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it,
As fearfully, as doth a galled rock

O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and waftful ocean.

Now fet the teeth, and ftretch the noftril wide;
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To his full heigth.

Shakespear's K. Henry V.

1. Methinks

1. Methinks, I could not die any where fo Contented as in the king's company;

His caufe being juft, and his quarrel honourable. 2. That's more than we know.

1. Ay, or more than we should seek after; for
We know enough, if we know we are the
King's fubjects if his caufe be wrong, our obedience
To the king, wipes the crime of it out of us.
2. But if the caufe be not good, the king himself
Hath a heavy reck'ning to make; when all
Thofe legs, and arms, and heads chop'd off in a
Battle, fhall join together at the latter
Day, and cry all, we dy'd at fuch a place;
Some fwearing, fome crying for a furgeon;
Some, upon their wives left poor behind them;
Some, upon the debts they owe; fome, upon
Their children rawly left. I am afear'd
Their are few dye well, that dye in battle;
For how can they charitably difpofe

Of any thing, when blood is their argument?
Now, if these men do not dye well, it will
Be a black matter for the king that led
Them to it, whom to difobey, were against
All proportion of fubjection.

3. So, if a fon, that is fent by his father
About merchandize, do fall into fome'
Lewd action and mifcarry, th' imputation
Of his wickednefs, by your rule, fhould be
Impofed upon his father that fent

Him; or if a fervant, under his master's
Command, tranfporting a fum of money,
Be affail'd by robbers, and dye in many
Irreconcil'd iniquities; you may call
The bufinefs of the mafter, the author
Of the fervant's damnation; but this is
Not fo the king is not bound to answer
The particular endings of his foldiers,
The father of his fon, nor the mafter

Of his fervant; for they purpose not their
Death, when they purpose their
Services. Befides, there is no king, be
His caufe never fo fpotless, if it come
To the arbitrement of fwords, can try it
Out with all unspotted foldiers: Some,
Peradventure, have on them the guilt of
Premeditated and contrived murther;
Some, of beguiling virgins with the broken
Seals of perjury; fome, making the wars
Their bulwark, that have before gored the
Gentle bofom of peace with pillage and
Robbery. Now if thefe men have defeated
The law, and out-run native punishment;
Though they can out-ftrip men, they have no wings
To fly from God. War is his beadle, war
Is his vengeance; fo that here men are punish'd,
For before breach of the king's laws, in the

King's quarrel now: Where they fear'd the death,
They have born life away; and where they would
Be fafe, they perish. Then if they die unprovided,
No more is the king guilty of their damnation,
Than he was before guilty of thofe impieties
For which they are now vifited. Ev'ry
Subject's duty is the king's, but ev'ry
Subject's foul is his own. Therefore should ev'ry
Soldier in the wars do, as ev'ry fick man
In his bed, wash ev'ry moth out of his
Confcience and dying fo, death is to him
Advantage; or not dying, the time was
Bleffedly loft, wherein fuch preparation
Was gained and in him that escapes, it
Were not fin to think, that making God fo
Free an offer, he let him out live that
Day to fee his greatness, and to teach others
How they should prepare.

Shakespear's K. Henry V.

Shame

Shame and confufion! all is on the rout:

Fear frames diforder; and diforder wounds,

Where it should guard. O War! thou fon of hell,
Whom angry heav'ns do make their minifter,
Throw in the frozen bofoms of our part
Hot coals of vengeance! Let no foldier flie.
He that is truly dedicate to war,

Hath no felf-love; for he that loves himself,
Hath not effentially, but by circumstance,
The name of valour.

Shakespear's Second Part of K. Henry VI.

O war! begot in pride and luxury,

The child of malice, and revengeful hate;
Thou impious good, and good impiety!
Thou art the foul refiner of a state,

Unjuft fcourge of mens iniquity,
Sharp eafer of corruptions desperate !
Is there no means, but that a fin-fick land
Must be let blood with fuch a boift'rous hand?
Daniel's Civil War,

Now nothing entertains th' attentive ear,
But ftratagems, affaults, furprizes, fights:
How to give laws to them that conquer'd were;
How to articulate with yielding wights.
The weak with mercy, and the proud with fear,
How to retain to give deferts their right;
Were now the arts—and nothing else was thought,
But how to win, and maintain what was got.

Affection finds a fide, and out it ftands;
Not by the cause, but by her int'reft led:`
And many urging war, most forward are,
Not that 'tis juft, but only that 'tis war.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Who would make war, muft not have empty coffers; Where one for glory, thousands fight for gain.

E. of Sterline's Darius.

Audit