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Sure Kingdoms are as mortal as their kings,
And stay but longer for their period.
Gomerfall's Lodovick Sforza.
'Tis true, indulgency, and flattery,
Take away the benefit of experience
From princes ; which ennobles the fortunes
Of private men.
A prince governs now, which has the name of
Mercy, as well as pow'r; which he truly knows,
And in his first deeds desires to Thew on
. You. He does not think he is then like Jove
When he can thunder, but when he can hold
It in ; not when he is the voice of death,
But when he sits harmless, with the power
of death about him. Revenge, and Torments,
Executions, are not expressions of a king;
But a destruction: He rivals not
Th' immortal pow'rs, in temples, ftatues,
Adoration, but transcendent virtues,
Divine performances : thele are th' additions,
By which he climbs to heaven, and appears
A God on earth.
'Tis not enough to be
But born a prince ; our greatest royalty
Lies in our acts: If we have greatest parts
In reverence, let's have so in deserts.
Oh the state of princes !
How far are we from that security,
We dream't of, in th' expectance of our crown?
Were foreign dangers nothing, yet we nourish
Our ruin in our bolom : Vallenzo is a traytor,
So is Piero too ; and who is not in this age ?
It is unsafe not to suspect ourself.
Sicily and Naples.
Reason fit still, enthron'd in thine own state ;
Tis paffion only ruins kings, not fate.
Sicily and Naples.
The faults kings do,
Shine like the fiery beacons on a hill,
For all to fee, and seeing tremble at:
It's not a single ill, which you
commit; What in the subject is a petty fault, Monsters your a&ions, and's a foul offence; You give your subjects licence to offend, When you do teach them how.
Hemmings's Fatal Contraa. Kings arm their subjects, when they break their laws.
Hemmings, Ibid. 'Tis but a dog-like madness in bad kings, For to delight in wounds and murderings. As some plants prosper best, by cuts and blows ; So kings by killing, do encrease their foes.
Herrick. That prince must govern with a gentle hand, That will have love comply with his command.
Thou art deceiv'd ; 'twas not his hand,
But the just hand of heav'n that whịps my sins,
And through my veins pours out the innocent blood
Which I had spilt before ; the hand that holds-
The equal balance to discern the weight
'Twixt princes justice and their tyranny,
Measures their blessings and their plagues alike,
To their fair virtues or black infamies;
And makes the horrid acts of murd'rous minds
But inftruments of plague to punish guilt ;
And pay us in the coin
with which we hop'd
To buy our glutt'nous surfeits. Such is the state
Of prince's privilege, that we may run
Into the depth of fin, and uncontrould
Pull vengeance on our heads; while the smooth hand
Of peft'lent flatt'ry claps us on the back,
And gives us edge to villany, till they fee
Mis’ry and desolation close us round;
Then they fly back, and gaze, as on a place
Stricken with furious thunder in a storm :
When ev'ry vulgar hand has laws, and fear
of prying authority to hold him back,
And friendly enemies to upbraid him with
His faults, and keep him in the bounds of merey ;
Only our heights bereave us of these helps;
And we are looth'd in vices, till we run
Beyond the reach of grace, and stand within
The shot of heaviest vegeance, which feldom comes
Short of our merits.
Kings raisd to heav'n, by an unskilful pen ;
Scarce look, when made ill gods, so well as men.
Sir W. Davenant to the King, For from the monarch's virtae, subjects take Th’ ingredient which does publick virtue make : At his bright beam chey all their tapers light, And by his dial set their motion right.
Sir W. Davenant on the Restauration, 1. O, you are wife, And constant to yourselves; had you but any share Of love for me, you would unking me straight, And then teach me a sudden way to be no monster, 2. A monster, fir! we understand you not. 1. What am I else, that still beneath Two bodies groan, the nat’ral and the politick By force compounded of moft ditt rent things. How wearifome, and how unlucky is The eflence of a king ; gentle, yet by Constraint severe ; jutt in our nature, yet We must dissemble ; our very virtues are Taken from us, only t'augment our sway? 2. Your judgment is too cruel of yourself. 1. In what's our pity, or our kindness more Express'd, than when we father other's crimes ?
As if it were a great prerogative
To make the guilty safe. Our wealth serves but
To keep mens hopes in pay; only happy
When we can purchase friends, because they share
And ease the glorious torment
of our power.
Sir W. Davenant's Fair Favourite.
Kings are but royal flaves, and pris'ners too ;
They always toil, and always guarded go.
Henceforth, fir, be every body's king;
And then you are yourself : Lend equal ears
To what all say; and like a skilful chymist
Draw the quick spirit off from ev'ry council,
And from your wise breast breath it as your own.
Sir R. Howard's Great Favourite.
The gods that in my fortunes were unkind;
Gave me not scepters, nor such gilded things ;
But whilft I wanted crowns, inlarg d my mind,
To despife scepters, and dispose of kings.
Sir R. Howard's Indian Queen.
And when the crown's once gain'd, there needs no fears:
Crimes change their natures then, or men change theirs.
Sir R. Howard's Blind Lady.
For nothing can old monarchs more offend ;
Than when their succeffors we much commend.
E. of Orrery's Muftapha.
What poor things are kings !
What poorer things are nations to obey
Him, whom a petty paflion does command ?
Fate, why was man made fo ridiculous ?
Oh I am mortal. Men but latter me.
Oh fate! Why were not kings made more than men 3
Or why will people have us to be more?
Alas! we govern others, but ourselves
We cannot rule ; as our eyes that do fee
All other things, but cannot see themselves.
Fountain's Rewards of Firtue.
You hate a prince, unless he'll tamely bear
Partners in pow'r ; let senates have a share.
Where laws, and domineering senates reign,
Princes are slaves in purple, knaves in grain ;
Sword-bearers to a many-headed lord,
Imean the crowd, and weak upon record :
For ev'ry law made by the state, implies,
That princes are defective, fenates wise.
KISS E S.
If I prophane with my unworthy hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this ;
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand,
To smooth the rough touch with a tender kiss.
Shakespear's Romeo and Juliet.
Then kiss'd me hard,
As if he plack'd up kisses by the roots,
That grew upon my lips.
Which at the face began, transplanted is
Since to the hand, since to th’imperial knee,
Now at the papal foot delights to be.
If kings think that the nearer way, and do
Rise from the foot; lovers may do so too.
-We'll point our speech
With am'rous kissing, kisling-commas, and ev'n suck
The liquid breath from out others lips.
Marfion's First Part of Antonio and Mellida. He kissed her with that greediness of affection, As if his lips had been as red as yours: I look'd still when he would be black in th'mouth, Like boys with eating hedge-berries.
Middleton's More Dilemblers besides Women. Kiss the tear from her lip, you'll find the rose The sweeter for the dew.
Webster's Devil's Law Cafe.