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And when she wakes to honour, then she'll thank me

for't.

I'll imitate the pities of old furgeons

To this loft limb; who ere they shew their art,

Cast one afleep, then cut the diseas'd part:

So out of love to her I pity moft,

She shall not feel him going till he's loft;

Then she'll commend the cure.

Middleton's Women beware Women.

PASSIONS.

Behold the image of mortality,
And feeble nature cloth'd with fleshly tire;
When raging passion with fierce tyranny,
Robs reason of her due regality,
And makes it fervant to her basest part !

The strong it weakens with infirmity,
And with bold fury arms the weakest heart;

The strong, through pleasure fooneft falls, the weak,

through fmart.

Spenser's Fairy Queen.

But though the apprehenfive pow'r do pause,
The motive virtue then begins to move;
Which in the heart below doth paffions caufe,

Joy, grief, and fear, and hope, and hate, and love.

These paffions have a free commanding might,
And divers actions in our life do breed;
For all acts done without true reafon's light,
Do from the paffions of the sense proceed.
But fince the brain doth lodge the pow'rs of sense,
How makes it in the heart those passions spring?
The mutual love, the kind intelligence

'Twixt heart and brain, this sympathy doth bring.

From the kind heat which in the heart doth reign,
The sp'rits of life do their beginning take;
These fp'rits of life ascending to the brain,
When they come there, the spirits of sense do make.
Thefe
These sp'rits of sense, in fantasy's high court,
Judge of the forms of objects, ill or well;
And so they send a good or ill report
Down to the heart, where all affections dwell.

If the report be good, it causeth love,
And longing hope, and well-affured joy :

If it be ill, then doth it hatred move,
And trembling fear, and vexing griefs annoy.

Sir John Davies.

Moft necessary 'tis, that we forget
To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt :
What to ourselves in passion we propose,
The paffion ending, doth the purpose lose :
The violence of either grief or joy,

Their own enactors with themselves destroy :
Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;
Grief joys, joy grieves on flender accident.

Shakespear's Hamlet.

Passions are defperate,

And tempt with uncouth woe, as well as joy:
It evil is, that glories to destroy.

Lord Brooke's Alabam.

Paffions are oft mistaken, and misnam'd;

Things fimply good, grow evil with misplacing.

Lord Brooke's Mustapha.

Who would the title of true worth were his,

Muft vanquish vice, and no base thoughts conceive:

The braveft trophy ever man obtain'd;

Is that, which o'er himself, himself hath gain'd.

E. of Sterline's. Darius.

Fear feeing all, fears it of all is spy'd:
Like to a taper lately burning bright,

But wanting matter to maintain his light;
The blaze afcending, forced by the smoke,
Living by that, which feeks the same to choke :

The flame still hanging in the air doth burn,
Until drawn down, it back again return:

B6

Then

1

Then clear, then dim; then spreadeth, and then closeth,
Now getteth ftrength, and now its brightness loseth;
As well the best discerning eye may doubt,
Whether it yet be in, or whether out:
Thus in my cheek, my fundry passions shew'd;
Now athy-pale, and now again it glow'd.

Drayton's Lady Geraldine to the Earl of Surrey.

The grief that melts to tears, by't felf is fpent:
Paflion refifted, grows more violent.

-Each small breath

Tourneur's Atheist's Tragedy.

Difturbs the quiet of poor shallow waters :

But winds must arm themselves, ere the large fea

Is feen to tremble.

Habbington's Queen of Arragon.

__ Paffions without power,

Like seas against a rock, but lose their fury.

Denham's. Sophy."

The gods from paffions might have made us free;

Or gave us only those, which best agree.

Sir R. Howard's Vestal Virgin.

These slarts, are the convulfions of weak reafon,
When fits of paflion grow too ftrong upon you :
We have all our haggard paffions, but none so wild
Or fo unmann'd as yours.

They may be tam'd and brought from their excess,
And watch'd by reason, into gentleness.

Paffions are like thieves

That watch to enter undefended places;
And rob you too, of all that puts a difference

Between wild beasts and man.

Ibid.

Sir R. Howard's Blind Lady.

Oh! these paffions

Are but the cracks and splinters of the foul;

Shatter'd and bruis'd by fome external pow'r,.

Which might fecurely lie in its own haven.

Mens minds, like kingdoms, never so much flourish,

As

As when they raise the price of native goods;
And fet low values upon foreign wares.

Fane's Love in the dark.

'Tis hard to say, what men, whom reason ghides Intend to do; much more, whom passion rides.

Fountain's Rewards of Virtue.

We oft by light'ning read in darkest nights;
And by your paffions, I read all your natures,

Though you at other times can keep them dark.

Crown's First Part of Henry VI.

Oh, fir! your passion's dead; and you are weaving

Garlands of fine expreffions for it's funeral.

Crown's Second Part of Henry VI.

PATIENCE.

What cannot be preferv'd when fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mock'ry makes.

The robb'd, that smiles, steals something from the thief;
He robs himself, that spends a bootless grief.

Shakespear's Othello.

Patience unmov'd-no marvel though the pause;
They can be meek, that have no other cause :
A wretched foul, bruis'd with adversity,
We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry;
But were we burden'd with like weight of pain;
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain.

Shakespear's Comedy of Errors.

What fortune hurts, let suffrance only heal;
No wisdom with extremities to deal.

Drayton's Duke of Suffolk to Queen Margaret.

1. For he whose breast is tender, blood to cool,
That no wrongs heat it, is a patient fool:
What comfort do you find in b'ing so calm ?
2. That which green wounds receive from fov'reign

: balm;
Patience, my lord; why, 'tis the foul of peace :
Of all the virtues 'tis nearest kin to heaven ;
It makes men look like gods: The best of men
That eer wore earth about him, was a fufferer,

A foft

A foft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit,
The first true gentleman that ever breath'd.
The stock of patience then cannot be poor;
All it defires, it has; what monarch more ?
It is the greatest enemy to law

That can be; for it doth embrace all wrongs;
And fo chains up lawyers, and womens tongues.
'Tis the perpetual pris'ner's liberty,

His walks and orchards; 'tis the bond-flave's freedom,
And makes him feem proud of each iron chain,
As though he wore it more for ftate, than pain:
It is the beggar's musick; and thus fings,
Although their bodies beg, their fouls are kings.
O my dread liege! It is the self fame bliss
Rears us aloft, makes men and angels kiss:
And last of all, to end a houshold strife;
It is the honey 'gainst a waspish wife.

Dekker's First Part of the Honest Whore.

'Tis an easy thing for him that has no Pain, to talk of patience.

Tourneur's Atheist's Tragedy.

Patience grows fury that is often stirr'd;
When conquerors wax calm, and cease to hate;

The conquer'd should not dare reiterate.

Goffe's Couragious Turk.

I have heard you with that patience,
(And with no better) as the troubled pilot
Endures a tempeft, or contrary winds:
Who, finding nevertheless his tackling fure,
His veffel tight, and fea-room round about him,
Plays with the waves, and vies his confidence
Above the blasts of fortune, till he wins

His way, through all her threatnings, to his port.

Richard Brome's Damoiselle.

He that's befotted to his fear, or ease;

Will make his patience prove his worst disease.

Tatham's Distracted State.

Patience

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