Nor the gait of christian, pagan, nor man,
Have so strutted, and bellow'd, that I have
Thought fome of nature's journeymen had made
Men, and not made them well; they imitated
Humanity fo abominably!
2. I hope, we have reform'd that indiff'rently
With us,
1. Oh! reform it altogether.
And let those that play your clowns, fpeak no more
Than is fet down for them for there be of
Them, that will themselves laugh, to set on some
Quantity of barren fpectators to
Laugh too; though, in the mean time, fome
Neceffary queftion of the play be
Then to be confider'd: that's villainous;
And fhews a moft pitiful ambition
In the fool that uses it.
Were never more uncertain in their lives:
They know not when to play, where to play, nor
What to play; not when to play, for fearful fools;
Where to play, for puritan fools; nor what
To play, for critical fools.
Middleton's Mad World my Mafters: They abuse our scene,
And fay we live by vice, indeed 'tis true;
As the phyficians by difeafes do,
Only to cure them: they do live we fee
Like cooks by pamp'ring prodigality;
Which are our fond accufers. On the stage,
We fet an ufurer to tell this age
How ugly looks his foul; a prodigal,
Is taught by us how far from liberal
His folly bears him. Boldly I dare fay,
There has been more by us in fome one play
Laugh'd into wit, and virtue, than hath been
By twenty tedious lectures drawn from fin,
And foppifh humours: hence the cause doth rife,
Men are not won by th' ears, fo well as eyes.
Randolph's Mufes Looking-Glafs.
'Tis better in a play
Be Agamemnon, than himself indeed;
How oft with danger of the field befet,
Or with home mutinies, would he unbe
Himself? or over cruel altars weeping,
Wish, that with putting off a vizard, he
Might his true inward forrow lay afide?
The fhews of things are better than themselves:
How doth it ftir this aiery part of us,
To hear our poets tell imagin'd fights,
And the ftrange blows that feigned courage gives?
When I'd Achilles hear upon the stage
Speak honour, and the greatnefs of his foul,
Methinks, I too could on a Phrygian spear
Run boldly, and make tales for after times:
But when we come to act it in the deed,
Death mars this bravery, and th' ugly fears
Of the other world, fit on the proudest brow;
And boafting valour lofeth it's red cheek.
PLEASURE.
Eafe dulls the fp'rit; each drop of fond delight
Allays the thirst, which glory doth excite.
All these fond pleasures, if fond things
Deferve fo good a name,
Should not feduce a noble mind,
To ftain itself with fhame.
The time fhall come, when all these fame,
Which feem fo rich with joy :
Like tyrants, fhall torment thy mind,
Brandon's Octavia to Antonius.
Pleasure is like a building, the more high,
The narrower ftill it grows; cedars die
Shakespear and Rowley's Birth of Merlin. Since all earth's pleasures are fo fhort and small; The way t' enjoy 'em, is t' abjure 'em all.
Chapman's Buffy D'ambois. Long lull'd afleep with fcornful fortune's lies, A flave to pleasure, drown'd in bafe delights; I made a cov❜nant with my wand'ring eyes,
To entertain them still with pleasant fights;
My heart enjoy'd all that was wifh'd of late,
Whilft it the height of happiness did cloy;
Still ferv'd with dainty, but fufpected meat,
My foul with pleasure fick, was faint for joy:
All, with much care, what might procure mine ease,
My will divin'd, obfequioufly devis'd;
And who my fancy any way could please,
As prais'd by me, was by all others priz'd.
Save ferving me, none elfe could have deferv'd,
Of whom whatever came, was held of weight;
My words and looks were carefully obferv'd,
And whom I grac'd, were had in honour straight; For pomp and pow'r, far paffing other kings
Whilft too fecure with drowly thoughts I flumber'd, My coffers ftill were full of precious things,
Of which, as wealth leaft weigh'd, gold fcarce was numb'red;
I rear'd rare buildings, all embofs'd with gold;
Made ponds for fifhes; forefts for wild beasts;
And with vain thoughts which could not be controul'd,
Oft spent the day in fport, the night in feasts.
I tofs'd the elements with pow'r like Jove's;'
Driv'd water up, air down; a pleasant change:
For ftately fountains, artificial groves,
As common things, were not accounted ftrange. With me; what more could any monarch crave ?
In all the parts of pomp, none could compare : Myminions gallant, councellors were grave; My guards were ftrong, my concubines were fair : VOL. III.
Yea, whilft light fortune my defects fupply'd,
I had all that could breed, as now I find,
In others wonder, in the owner pride:
So puffing up the flesh to spoil the mind.
Thus with delight, long preffing pleasure's grapes,
With fortune I carous'd, what men dear hold:
But ah! from mifery none always scapes;
One must be wretched once, or young, or old.
E. of Sterline's Crafus.
Like dew upon the grafs, when pleasure's fun
Shines on your virtues, all your virtue's done.
That pleasure is of all
Moft bountiful and kind,
Marfton's Infatiate Countess.
That fades not ftraight, but leaves
A living joy behind.
T. Campion's Mafque, at the E. of Somerset's Marriage.
Thus grief and gladnefs ftill by turns do come,
But pleasure leaft while doth poffefs the room :
Long nights of grief may laft; but lo, one day
Of thining comfort flideth foon away.
Farewell to thy enticing vanity,
Thou round gilt box, that doft deceive man's eye!
The wife man knows, when open thou art broke,
The treasure thou includ'ft, is duft and smoke.
Beaumont and Fletcher's Four Plays in One.
What is pleasure,
More than a luftful motion in the fenfe?
The prosecution full of anxious fears;
The end repentance. Though content be call'd
The foul of action, and licentious man
Propounds it as the reason of his life ;
Yet if intemp'rate action pursue it,
The pure end's loft, and ruin must attend it.
Pleasures whofe means are easy, in the end
Do lose themselves. Things only are esteem'd
And valu'd by their acquifition.
Should you win her delights without fome pains,
They would not relish.
As dogs of Nilus drink a fnatch, and gone :
Sweets must be taited, and not glutted on.
Aleyn's Crefcey.
Henceforth, I'll ftrive to fly the fight of pleasure,
As of an harpy or a bafilisk;
And when the flatt'rers, feal my ears with wax,
Took from that boat, that row'd with a deaf oar,
From the sweet tunes of the Sicilian fhore.
Marmyon's Holland's Leaguer. Pleasure's a courtly mistress, a conceit
That fmiles and tickles without worth or weight:
Whofe fcatter'd reck'ning, when 'tis to be paid,
Is but repentance, lavishly inlaid.
Why? would not eating, drinking, fleeping,
Education of children be half neglected,
Were it not for pleasure ? would understanding
Embrace the truth, if it took not pleasure
In it? what kind of men are those that oppugn
Pleasure doth not the courtier take pleasure
In honour; the citizen in wealth; the
Countryman in delights of health; the
Academick in the mysteries of
Learning? is there not ev'n in angels, a
Certain incomprehenfible pleasure?
Parthomachia: Or Love's Load-flone.
I defpife
These short and empty pleasures, and how low
They stand in my efteem; which ev'ry peasant,
The meaneft fubject in my father's empire,
Enjoys as fully, in as high perfection
As he or I; and which are had in common
By beafts as well as men, wherein they equal,
If not exceed us. Pleafures to which we're led
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