Shortly his fortune fhall be lifted higher;
True industry doth kindle honour's fire.
Shakespear's Cromwell. Virtue, though chain'd to earth, will ftill live free; And hell itself muft yield to induftry.
One at another, doubting what to do ;
With faces, as you trufted to the gods,
That ftill fav'd you; and they can do't: But
They are not wifhings, or bafe womanish prayers,
Can draw their aids; but vigilance, council, action:
Which they will be afhamed to forfake.
"Tis floth they hate, and cowardice.
Johnfon's Catiline, Like clocks, one wheel another on must drive ; Affairs by diligent labour only thrive.
Chapman's Revenge for Honour.
The chiefeft action for a man of spirit,
Is never to be out of action; we should think
The foul was never put into the body,
Which has fo many rare and curious pieces,
Of mathematical motion, to stand still.
Virtue is ever fowing of her feeds,
In the trenches for the foldier; in the wakeful study
For the fcholar; in the furrows of the fea
For men of that profeffion; of all which
Arife and fpring up honour.
Webster's Devil's Law Cafe. See what these times are grown to; before twenty
I rush'd into the world; which is indeed
Much like the art of fwimming: He that will attain to't
Muft fall plump, and duck himself at first,
That will make him hardy and advent'rous;
And not stand putting in one foot, and shiver,
And then draw th'other after, like a quake-buttock; Well, he may make a padler i̇'th' world,
From hand to mouth, `but never a brave swimmer,
Borne up by the chin, as I bore up myself,
With strong industry that never fail'd me;
For he that lies borne up with patrimonies,
Looks like a long, great afs, that fwims with bladders; Come but one prick of adverse fortune to him,
He finks, because he never try'd to fwim,
When wit plays with the billows that choak'd him.
Beaumont and Fletcher's Wit at feveral Weapons.
We have not
Receiv'd into our bofom, and our grace,
A glorious lazy drone, grown fat with feeding
On others toil; but an industrious bee,
That crops the fweet flow'rs of our enemies,
And ev'ry happy evening home returns
Loaden with wax, and honey to our hive.
Malinger's Great Duke of Florence.
Where the victory can reap
A harvest crown'd with triumph; toil is cheap.
John Ford's Perkin Warbeck.
If little labour, little are our gains:
Man's fortunes are according to his pains.
And to be rich, be diligent; move on
Like heav'n's great movers that inrich the earth;
Whose moments floth would fhew the world undone ;
And make the fpring ftrait bury all her birth.
Rich are the diligent, who can command
Time, nature's ftock: And could his hour-glafs fall, Would, as for feed of stars, ftoop for the fand;
And by inceffant labour gather all.
Sir W. Davenant's Gondibert:
Industrious wisdom often does prevent
What lazy folly thinks inevitable :
Big fwelling clouds are by the winds blown o'er ;
And threatning storms may dwindle to a show'r.
As when the moon hath comforted the night,
And fet the world in filver of her light,
The planets, afterifms, and whole ftate of heav'n,
In beams of gold defcending; all the winds
Bound up in caves, charg'd not to drive abroad
Their cloudy heads; an univerfal peace,
Proclaim'd in filence of the quiet earth:
Soon as her hot and dry fumes are let loose,
Storms and clouds mixing, fuddenly put out
The eyes of all thefe glories: The creation
Turn'd into chaos, and we then defire
For all our joy of life, the death of fleep:
So when the glories of our lives, mens loves,
Clear confciences, our fames, and loyalties,
That did us worthy comfort, are eclips'd;
Grief and difgrace invade us: and for all
Our night of life befides, our mis❜ry craves
Dark earth would ope, and hide us in our graves.
Chapman's First Part of Byron's Confpiracy.
What grief can be, but time doth make it lefs?"
But infamy, time never can fupprefs.
Drayton's Rofamund to Henry.
His violent act has e'en drawn blood of honour,
And ftain'd our honours,
Thrown ink upon the forehead of our state,
Which envious fp'rits will dip their pens into
After our death; and blot us in our tombs:
For that which would feem treafon in our lives,
Is laughter when we're dead. Who dares now whisper,
That dares not then fpeak out; and ev'n proclaim,
With loud words, and broad rens, our clofeft fhame.
Tourneur's Revenger's Tragedy.
Your grace hath fpoke like to your filver years
Full of confirm'd gravity;- for what is it to have
A flatt'ring falfe infcription on a tomb;
And in mens hearts reproach? the bowell'd corps
May be fear'd in; but with free tongue I fpeak,
The faults of great men through their fear-cloths break.
Tourneur's Revenger's Tragedy.
Shame ever fticks close to the ribs of honour;
Great men are never found men after it :
It leaves fome ach or other in their names still,
Which their pofterity feels at ev'ry weather.
Middleton's Mayor of Quinborough.
He breaths moft accurft,
Who lives fo long, to fee his name die first.
INGRATITUDE.
1. I am rapt, and cannot
Cover the monstrous bulk of this ingratitude
With any fize of words!
2. Let it go naked, men may fee't the better.
'This is the world's foul;
Of the fame piece is ev'ry flatt'rer's fpirit:
Who can call him his friend,
That dips in the fame difh? for, in my knowing,
Timon has been to this lord as a father,
And kept his credit with his bounteous purse :
Supported his eftate; nay, Timon's money
Has paid his men their wages. He ne'er drinks,
But Timon's filver treads upon his lip;
And yet, oh, fee the monftroufnefs of man,
When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!
He does deny him, in refpect of his,
What charitable men afford to beggars.
Religion groans at it!
Merit, by ingratitude crack'd,
Requires a firmer cementing than words;
And he fhall find it a much harder work,
To folder broken hearts, than fhiver'd glass.
Chapman's Second Part of Byron's Confpiracy.
Such the rewards of great employments are,
Hate kills in peace, whom fortune fpares in war;
And this is that high grace of kings we feek,
Whofe favour, and whofe wrath.confumes alike.
Daniel's Philotas.
He that doth publick good for multitudes;
Finds few are truly grateful.
Marfion's Sophonisba.
There's ev'n the general thanks of all afpirers;
When they have all a kingdom can impart :
They write above it ftill, their own defert.
Middleton's Mayor of Quinborough.
To a malicious and ingrateful prince,
Are rather caufes of fufpect, than love;
And when mens actions do tranfcend reward,
They then defcend to punishment.
Glapthorne's Albertus Wallenftein.
For vicious natures, where they once begin
To take diftafle, and purpose no requital;
The greater debt they owe, the more they hate.
May's Agrippina. None are ingrate, who have no favour found.
INJUR
If light wrongs touch me not,
No more fhall great; if not a few, not many:
There's nought fo facred with us, but may find
A facrilegious perfon; yet the thing is
No lefs divine, 'cause the prophane can reach it.
Johnson's New Inn.
They that do pull down churches, and deface
The holieft altars, cannot hurt the Godhead.
A calm wife man may fhew as much true valour,
Amidft these popular provocations,
As can an able captain fhew fecurity,
By his brave conduct, through an enemy's country.
A wife man never goes the peoples way;
But as the planets ftill move contrary
To the world's motion; fo doth he to opinion:
He will examine, if thofe accidents
Which common fame calls injuries, happen to him
Defervedly, or no? come they defervedly?
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