she cried not-stop your noses: would she give us
so sweet a quire of winged musicians
to have us deaf? or when she placed us here,
here in a paradise, where such pleasing prospects,
so many ravishing colours, entice the eye,
was it to have us wink? Not to enjoy
all asures, and at full, were to make nature
guilty of that she ne'er was guilty of,-
a vanity in her works.

T. RANDOLPH

1452

LUXURY IN DRESS

O spent itself

NCE, I do remember, coming from

in those unprofitable toys thou speak'st of,-
a man half naked with his poverty
did meet me, and requested my relief ;
I wanted whence to give it: yet his eyes
spoke for him; those I could have satisfied
with some unfruitful sorrow (if my tears
would not have added rather to his grief
than eased it), but the true compassion
I should have given I had not. This began
to make me think how many such men's wants,
the vain superfluous cost I wore upon
my outside, would have cloathed, and left myself
a habit as becoming: to encrease
this new consideration, there came one
clad in a garment plain and thrifty, made
as if it were of purpose to despise
the vanity of show; his purse had still
the power to do a charitable deed,
and did it.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

1453

THE FOOL'S BEATITUDE
E
VEN in that, note a fooles beatitude:

he is not capeable of passion;
wanting the power of distinction,
he bears an unturned sayle with every winde:
blowe east, blowe west, he steers his course alike.
I never saw a foole leane; the chub-fac't fop
shines sleeke with full cramm'd fat of happinesse,

whilst studious contemplation sucks the juyce
from wisard's cheekes: who making curious search
for natures secrets, the first innating cause
laughes them to scorne, as man doth busie apes,
when they will zanie men. Had Heaven bin kind,
creating me an honest, senselesse dolt,
a goode poore foole, I should want sense to feele
the stings of anguish shoot through every vaine:
I should not know what 'twere to loose a father:
I should be deade of sense, to viewe defame
blur my bright love: I could not thus run mad,
as one confounded in a maze of mischiefe,
staggerd, starke feld with bruising stroke of chance.

J. MARSTON

1454

TIMON OF ATHENS

TIMON-APEMANTUS

G

Tim. ET thee gone.

That the whole life of Athens were in this! thus would I eat it.

[eating a root Apem. Here; I will mend thy feast. Tim. First mend my company, take away thyself. Apem. So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine. Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd ;

if not, I would it were. Apem. What would'st thou have to Athens? Tim.

Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,

tell them there I have gold; look, so I have. Apem. Here is no use for gold. Tiin.

The best, and truest: for here it sleeps, and does no hired harm. Apem. Where ly'st o’nights, Timon? Tim.

Under that's above me. Where feed'st thou o'days, Apemantus? Apem. Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I

eat it. Tim. ?Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind! Apem. Where would'st thou send it? Tim. To sauce thy dishes.. Apem. The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but

the extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art despised for the contrary.

W. SHAKESPEARE

1455

SORDIDO

I'LL instantly set all my hinds to thrashing

under the ground; and with the straw thereof
I'll stuff the outsides of my other mows:
that done, I'll have them empty all my garners,
and i’ the friendly earth bury my store,
that, when the searchers come, they may suppose
all's spent, and that my fortunes were belied.
and to lend more opinion to my want,
and stop that many-mouthéd vulgar dog,
which else would still be baying at my door,
each market-day I will be seen to buy
part of the purest wheat, as for my houshold:
where, when it comes, it shall increase my heaps,
'twill yield me treble gain at this dear time,
promised in this dear book: I have cast all.
Till then I will not sell an ear, I'll hang first.
O, I shall make my prices as I list,
my house and I can feed on peas and barley;
what though a world of wretches starve the while,
he that will thrive must think no courses vile.

B. JONSON

1456

SORDIDO'S REPENTANCE

WHA]

AT curses breathe these men! how have my

deeds made my looks differ from another man's, that they should thus detest, and loth my life! Out on my wretched humour, it is that makes me thus monstrous in true humane eyes. Pardon me, gentle friends, I'll make fair 'mends for my foul errors past, and twenty fold restore to all men, what with wrong I robbed them: my barns and garners shall stand open still to all the poor that come, and my best grain be made alms-bread, to feed half-famished mouths. Though hitherto amongst you I have lived, like an unsavoury muck-hill to my self,

yet now my gathered heaps being spread abroad,
shall turn to better and more fruitful uses.
Bless then this man, curse him no more for saving
my life and soul together. O, how deeply
the bitter curses of the poor do pierce!
I am by wonder changed: come in with me
and witness my repentance; now I prove,
no life is blest, that is not graced with love.

B. JONSON

Tim WH

WHAT art thou

1457

ALCIBIADES-TIMON .

there? speak. . A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy

heart, for showing me again the eyes of man! Alc. What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee,

that art thyself a man? Tim. I am misanthropos, and hate mankind.

For thy part I do wish thou wert a dog,

that I might love thee something. Alc.

I know thee well; but in thy fortunes am unlearned and strange.

How came the noble Timon to this change?
Tim. As the moon does, by wanting light to give:

but then renew I could not, like the moon;
there were no suns to borrow of. Alc. Noble Timon,

what friendship may I do thee? Tim.

None, but to maintain my opinion. Alc. What is it, Timon? Tim. Promise me friendship, but perform none: If

thou wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee

for thou’rt a man! Alc. I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. Tim. Thou sawest them, when I had prosperity.

W. SHAKESPEARE

1458

APOLOGY FOR THIEVERY Al.

smaller brooks, And in this world of ours, this microcosm, guts from the stomach steal, and what they spare the meseraicks filch, and lay i' the liver :

THE World’s

, a theatre of theft. Great rivers

where, lest it should be found, turn'd to red nectar,
'tis by a thousand thievish veins conveyed
and hid in flesh, nerves, bones, muscles and sinews,
in tendons, skin and hair; so that the property
thus alter'd, the theft can never be discover'd.
Now all these pilf’riés, couch'd and compos’d in order,

frame thee and me. Man's a quick mass of thievery.
Ro. Most philosophical Albumazar.
Ha. I thought these parts had lent and borrow'd mutual.
Al. Say they do so: 'tis done with full intention

ne'er to restore, and that's flat robbery.
Therefore go on, follow your virtuous laws,
your cardinal virtue, great necessity;
wait on her close with all occasions.
Be watchful, have as many eyes as Heaven,
and ears, as harvest; be resolved and impudent:
believe none, trust none; for in this city
(as in a fought field, crows and carcases)
no dwellers are, but cheaters and cheatees.

J. TOMKIS

1459

ADDRESS TO THE AUDIENCE

Asper Whais he pani check his spirit, or rein his

HO so patient of

tongue ? Who can behold such prodigies as these, and have his lips seald up? Not I; my soul was never ground into such oily colours, to flatter vice and daub iniquity: but with an armed and resolvéd hand I'll strip the ragged follies of the time, naked as at their birth. I fear no mood stampt in a private brow, when I am pleased to unmask a public vice. I fear no strumpet's drugs, nor ruffian's stab, should I detect their hateful luxuries: no broker's, usurer's, or lawyer's gripe, were I dispos’d to say, they're all corrupt. I fear no courtier's frown, should I applaud the easy flexure of his supple hams. Tut, these are so innate and popular, that drunken custom would not shame to laugh in scorn at him, that should not dare to tax 'em.

B. JONSON