If th' end be glorious, glorious is the way;
They always have the caufe, who have the day.
HE body's life with meats and air is fed;
Therefore the foul does use the tafting pow'r
In veins, which through the tongue and pallate fpread,
Distinguish ev'ry relifh, fweet and fow'r.
This is the body's nurfe; but fince man's wit
Found th' art of cook'ry to delight his fenfe,
More bodies are confum'd and kill'd with it,
Than with the fword, famine, or peftilence.
Would'st delight thy tafte?
Then Samian peacocks, and Ambracian kids,
Hens of Numidia, pheafants, phenicopters,
Tartefian lampreys, eels of Benacus,
Cockles of Locrine, Eleufinian plaice
Shall fill thy dish, and thousand changes more.
1. Why tribute? why fhould we pay tribute? If
Cæfar can hide the fun from us with a
Blanket, or put the moon in his pocket,
We will pay him tribute for light; elfe, fir,
No more tribute.
2. You must know,
Till the injurious Romans did extort
This tribute from us, we were free. Cæfar's ambition,
Which fwell'd fo much, that it did almost stretch
The fides o'th' world, against all colour, here
Did put the yoke on us; which to shake off,
Becomes a warlike people, which we reckon
Ourselves to be, to do.
Our trade is tax, comprifing men, and things;
And draw not they mankind's wealth under kings?
Soothing the Tyrant, till by his excefs,
Want makes the majefty of thrones grow lefs;
By taxing peoples vice at fuch a rate,
As to fill up a fieve, exhausts the state :
Laftly, fo fhuffling trade, law, doctrine, will,
As no foul fhall find peace in good or ill:
Both being traps alike us'd, to entice
The weak, and humble, into prejudice.
-Projector, I treat firft
Of you and your difciples; you roar out
All is the king's; his will's above his laws:
And that fit tributes are too gentle yokes
For his poor fubjects; whifp'ring in his ear,
If he would have them fear, no man should dare
To bring a fallad from his country garden,
Without the paying gabell; kill a hen
Without excife: and that if he defire
To have his children, or his fervants wear
Their heads upon their fhoulders, you affirm,
In policy, 'tis fit the owners fhould
Pay for them by the poll: or if the prince want
A prefent fum, he may command a city's
Impoffibilities; and for non-performance
Compel it to fubmit to any fine
His officers fhall impofe. Is this the way
To make our emperor happy? can the groans
Of his fubjects yield him mufick? muft his thresholds
Be wash'd with widows and wrong'd orphans tears,
Or his power grow contemptible?
Malinger's Emperor of the East.
Study fome monopoly
May sweep the kingdom at a ftake; despise
A project will not bring in half the city :
Find out a way to forfeit all the charters;
Have an exchequer of your own, and keep
The princes round about in penfion :
Thefe are becoming bufineffes, and speak
An active statesman.
In things a moderation keep;
Kings ought to fhear, not skin their sheep.
The law takes measure of us all for cloaths,
Diets us all, and in the fight of all,
To keep us from all private leagues with wealth.
TEMPERANCE.
His most trufty guide,
Who fuffer'd not his wandring feet to flide:
But when strong paffion, or weak fleshlinefs
Would from the right way feek to draw him wide, He would through temperance and ftedfaftness,
Teach him the weak to ftrengthen, and the ftrong fupprefs.
Tho' I look old, yet I am ftrong and lufty;
For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Nor did I with unbafhful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility :
Therefore my age is as a lufty winter,
Frosty, but kindly.
Shakespear's As you like it.
The end of a well profecuted good.
Philofophy, religious folitude
And labour wait on temperance; in these
Defire is bounded: they inftruct the mind's
And body's actions.
She's the Physician that doth moderate
Defire with reafon bridling appetite.
Yonder's her cave; whofe plain yet decent roof
Shines not with ivory or plates of gold:
No Tyrian purples cover her low couch,
Nor are the carv'd fupporters, artists work,
Bought at the wealth of provinces; the feeds not
On coftly viands in her gluttony,
Wafting the fpoils of conquefts: from a rock
That weeps a running crystal she doth fill
Her fhell-cup, and drinks sparingly.
1. Canft thou be content
With my poor diet too 2. Oh wondrous well!
'Twas fuch a diet which that happy age
That poets ftile the golden, first did use.
1. And fuch a diet to our chefts will bring
The golden age again.
That flows upon us, health and liberty
Attend on thefe bare meals; if all were bleft
With fuch a temperance, what man would fawn,
Or to his belly fell his liberty?
There would be then no flaves, no fcycophants
At great mens tables. If the bafe Sarmentus,
Or the vile Galba had been thus content,
They had not born the fcoffs of Cæfar's board.
He whofe cheap thirst the springs and brooks can quench,
How many cares is he exempted from?
He's not indebted to the merchants toil;
Nor fears that pyrates force, or ftorms should rob him
Of rich Canarys, or fweet Candyan wines :
He smells, nor feeks no feasts; but in his own
True ftrength contracted lives, and there enjoys
A greater freedom than the Parthian king.
Befides, pure chearful health ever attends it ;
Which made the former ages live fo long.
With riotous banquets, fickneffes came in,
When death 'gan mufter all his dismal band
Of pale difeafes; fuch as poets feign
Keep centinel before the gates of hell,
And bad them wait about the glutton's tables;
Whom they, like venom'd pills, in sweetest wines
Deceived fwallow down, and haften on
What most they would efchew, untimely death.
But from our tables here, no painful furfeits,
No fed difeafes grow, to ftrangle nature,
And fuffocate the active brain; no fevers,
No apoplexies, palfies or catarrhs
Are here; where nature not entic'd at all
With fuch a dang'rous bait as pleasant cates,
Takes in no more than the can govern well.
May's Old Couple.
Temp'rate in what does needy life preserve,
As thofe whofe bodies wait upon their minds;
Chaft as thofe minds which not their bodies ferve;
Ready as pilots wak'd with fudden winds.
Sir W. Davenant's Gondibert.
He, who the rules of temperance neglects,
From a good caufe may produce vile effects.
Tuke's Adventures of Five Hours.
TEMPTATION.
1. Save your honour.
2. From thee; ev'n from thy virtue.
What's this what's this? is this her fault, or mine? The tempter, or the tempted, who fins most
Not fhe; nor doth fhe tempt; but it is I,
That lying by the violet in the fun,
Do as the carrion does, not as the flow'r,
Corrupt with virtuous feafon. Can it be,
That modefty, may more betray our sense,
Than woman's lightnefs? having waste ground enough,
Shall we defire to raze the fanctuary,
And pitch our evils there? oh fie, fie, fie!
What doft thou? or what art thou, Angelo ?
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