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Who stuck and spangled you with flatteries,
O! your parasite Is a most precious thing, drop'd from above ; Not bred 'mongst clods and clod-polls here on earth. I muse, the mystery was not made a science, It is so lib'rally profest ! almost All the wise world is little else in nature, But parasites, or fub-parafites. And, yet, I mean not those that have your bare town-art, To know who's fit to feed them; have no house, No family, no care, and therefore mould Tales for mens ears, to bait that sense ; or get Kitchen-invention, and some stale receipts To please the belly, and the groin ; nor those With their court dog-tricks, that can fawn and feer, Make their revenue out of legs and faces; Eccho my lord, and lick away a moth: But your fine elegant rascal, that can rise, And stoop, almoit together; like an arrow Shoot through the air as nimbly as a star : Turn short, as doth a swallow ; and be here, And there ; and here, and yonder, all at once ; Present to any humour, all occasion ; And change a vizor, swifter than a thought ! This is the creature had the art born with him; Toils not to learn it, but doth practice it Out of most excellent nature : and such sparks Are the true parasites, others but their zanies.
'Tis true, that fway'd by strong neceflity,
Marston's What you will. P A R D 0 N. Twice faying pardon, doth not pardon twain; But makes one pardon strong. The word is short, but not fo short as sweet ; No word like pardon, for kings mouths so meet.
Shakespear's K. Richard II. The higher those great powers have rais’d you, Press that which lies below, with gentler weight : To pardon miseries is fortune's height.
Goffe's Couragious Turk, When I call to mem'ry our long friendship, Methinks it cannot be too great a wrong,
That then I should not pardon. Why should man,
Middleton and Rowley's Fair Quarrel. But by, his heralds first he pardons sent,
So Tamberlaine sent his white flag before.
Those ulcerated members to restore.
Is between king and subject : those are best
And those most modest, which do bluth the least. Camillus, once was by Rome's senate thought
Worthy to triumph, tho' he had not fought.
Ac Henry's feet to be triumphed o'er,
Aleyn's Henry VII. When Kent was in commotion, I know,
Corr’sives did cure the ulcers of the state ; But should you use that course of physick now,
You might the patients more exasperate ? So the same simples, as th' experienc'd find, Gather'd ạt sev'ral times, do
purge or bind, If to be great, not good were your intent;
I have chalk'd out your way: 'twere a false aim, If by the ruins of the slain you meant, To raise the pile and structure of your fame :
They which survive will the best trophies be,
Aleyn's Henry VII.
Quarles Have you no words but what are only good, Becaule their ill is quickly understood ? Dispose of Claudio's life! Whilft cruel you Seem dead, by being deaf to all that sue: Till by long custom of forgiving none, You're so averse to all forgiveness grown, That in your own behalf you shall deny To hear of absolution, when you die.
Sir W. Davenant's Law against Lovers.
P A R E N T S.
Shakespear's Third Part of King Henry VI.
Parents are o'erseen, When with too strict a rein, they do hold in Their child's affections ; and controul that love, Which the high pow'rs divine initruct them with : When, in their shallow judgments, they may know, Affection crofs'd, brings misery and woe.
Robert Taylour's Hog hath lost his Pearl. Fathers that deny their daughters lawful Pleasures, when ripe for them ; in some kind, edge
Their appetites, to taste of the fruit that
Beaumont and Fletcher's Elder Brother.
Shirley's School of Compliments. Honour thy parents to prolong thine end ; With them, though for a truth, do not contend : Though all should truth defend, do thou lose rather The truth a while, than lose their loves for ever : Whoever makes his father's heart to bleed ; Shall have a child that will revenge the deed.
Randolph. Р A RT I N G. And by the way, she sundry purpose found
Of this or that, the time for to delay ; And of the perils whereto he was bound,
The fear whereof seem'd much her to affray :
But allshe did, was but to wear out day. Full oftentimes she leave of him did take;
And eft again deviz'd somewhat to say, Which she forgot ; whereby excuse to make : So loth she was his company for to forsake.
Spenser's Fairy Queen. Parting is such sweet forrow, That I shall say good night, till it be morrow.
Skakespear's Romeo and Juliet. I would have thee gone, And yet no further than a wanton's bird, That lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor pris’ner in his twisted gyves ; And with a silk-thread plucks it back again,