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Still you recoil, like the chast Irdian plant;
Sir W. Davenant's Love and Honour,
Μ Ο Ν Ε Υ.. I could wish, that ev'ry thing I touch'd might Turn to gold : this is the finews of war, And the sweetness of peace. Is it not gold That makes the chastest to yield to luit ? The Honestett to lewdness ? the wiseft to Folly? the faithfullest to deceit ? and The most holy in heart, to be most hollow of heart In this word gold, are all the powers of The gods; the desires of men; the wonders Of the world ; the miracles of nature ; The loosness of" fortune ; and triumphs of Time. By gold may you shake the courts of Other princes, and have your own settled : One spade of gold, undermines fafter than An hundred mattocks of steel. Would one Be thought religious and devout ? Quantum quisque suâ nummorum fervat in arcâ, Tantum habet & fidei ! Religion's balance are golden bags. Desire you virtue? Querenda pecunia prima eft, virtus post Nummos. The first stair of virtue is money. Doth any thirst after gentry, and wish To be exteemed beautiful ? Et genus & formam regina pecunia donat. King-coin hath a mint to stamp gentlemen, And art to make amiableness. I deny Not but love is sweet, and the marrow of A man's mind ; that to conquer kings is the Quintessence of the thoughts of kings : why then Follow both, Aurea sunt verè nunc fæcula, plurimus auroVenit honos ; auro conciliatur amor. It is a world for gold; honour and love
Are both taken up on interest. Doth
Shakespear's Hamlet. O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce Twixt nat'ral son and fire ! thou bright defiler Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars ! Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow, That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god That fould'rest close impossibilities, Aud mak'it them kiss! that speak it with ev'ry tongue, To ev'ry purpose ! oh, thou touch of hearts ! Think, thy slave man rebels; and by thy virtue Set them into confounding odds, that beaits May have the world in empire.
What is here? Gold ? yellow, glittering, precious gold ? No, gods, I am no idle votarist. Root“, you clear heav'ns ! thus much of this will make Black, white; foul, fair ; wrong, right; Bale, noble ; old, young; coward, valiant. You gods ! why this! what this ? you gods! why, this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides : Pluck Itout mens pillows from below their heads. This yellow slave Will knit and break religions ; bless th' accurs'd ; Make the hoar leprosy ador'd ; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With lenators on the bench : this is it, That makes the wappen'd widow wcd again ; She, whom the spittle house and ulc'rous fores Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices To the April day again.
Shakespear's Timont, That I might live alone once with my gold! O'tis a sweet companion ! kind and true! A man may truit it, when his father cheats him, Brother, or friend, or wife. O wondrous pelf, That which makes all men falfe, is true itself!
Johnson his Cafe is alter'd. 1. Come forth fate and wonder Of these our times, dazzle the vulgar eyes, And Itrike the people blind with admiration ! 2. Why, that's the end of wealth! thrust riches outward, And reinain beggars within : contemplate nothing, But the vile fordid things of time, place, money ; And let the noble and the precious go. Virtue and honetly, hang 'em ; poor thin membranes Of honour ; who respects them ? (), the fates ! I low hath all just true reputation, fallin ; Since money, this base money, 'gan to have any !
Johnson's Staple of Nevs.
These are the stars, the ministers of fate ;
Tourneur's Atheift's Tragedy. 1. Pray, fir, what turn'd you Turk? 2. That, for which many their religion, Moft men their faith, all change their honesty, Profit; that gilded god, commodity.
Dauborne's Christian turn'd Turk. Oh pow'rsul gold ; whose influence doth win Men, with desire for to engender sin !
Goffe's Raging Turk. Money, thou bane of bliss, and source of woe,
Whence coin'it thou, that thou art so fresh and fine? I know thy parentage is base and low :
Man found thee poor and dirty in a mine. Surely thou did'it so little contribute
To this great kingdom, which thou now hast got ; That he was fain, when thou wert destitute,
To dig thee out of thy dark cave and grot: Then forcing thee by fire, he made thee bright :
Nay, thou haft got the face of man ; for we Have with our stamp and seal transferr'd our right:
Thou art the man, and man but dross to thee. Man calleth thee his wealth, who made thee rich"; And while he digs out thee, falls in the ditch.
Herbert, Puissant gold ! red earth at first made man;
Now it makes villain : this refined clod
Jove could do more in gold, than in a god.
Aleyn's Henry VII.
A plain cafe ? does not gouty greatness find
Shirley's Bird in a Cage
, See what money can do: that can change Mens manners; alter their conditions ! How tempestuous the slaves are without it. O thou pow'rful metal ! what authority Is in thee! thou art the key to all mens Mouths : with thee, a man may lock
up Of an informer; and without thee, he Cannot the lips of a lawyer.
Richard Brome's Weeding of Covent-Garden, Gold is of use to ev'ry fort of knave; It helps th' ambitious knave to offices ; Th' unjust contentious knave to others right ; The lustful knave to others wives and daughters; Then strew'd on all the blots of a man's life, It does not only cover them, but gild them.
Crown's Ambitious Statesman. Μ ο Ν ο Ρ ο L r. And many ready hands the straight doth find
To aid her deed ; of such, as could not brook The length of one man's office in that kind ;
Who all th' especial charges undertook, Rul'd all himfelf; and never had the mind
T' impart a part with other ; who would look To have likewise fome honour in their hands, And griev'd at such ingrossing of commands.