Thus confcience does make cowards of us all: And thus the native hue of refolution
Is ficklied o'er with the pale caft of thought, And enterprizes of great pith and moment; With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action.
1. Let's reafon with the worst that may befal. If we do lofe this battle, then is this The very last time we shall speak together. What are you then determined to do? 2. Ev'n by the rule of that philosophy, By which I did blame Cata for the death Which he did give himself: I know not how, But I do find it cowardly and vile,
For fear of what might fall, fo to prevent The time of life; arming myfelf with patience, To stay the providence of fome high pow'rs That govern us below.
Shakespear's Julius Cæfar. 1. The gods avert from ev'ry Roman mind The name of flave to any tyrant's pow'r. Why was man ever just, but to be free, 'Gainst all injustice? and to bear about him As well all means to freedom ev'ry hour, As ev'ry hour he should be arm'd for death, Which only is his freedom?
Death is not free for any man's election, 'Till nature, or the law impofe it on him. 3. Must a man go to law then, when he may Enjoy his own in peace? if I can use Mine own myfelf, must I of force, reserve it, To ferve a tyrant with it? all just men Not only may enlarge their lives, but muft, From all rule tyrannous, or live unjust. 1. By death muft they enlarge their lives? 2. By death. 1. A man's not bound to that.
Are not the lives of all men bound to justice?
2. And therefore not to ferve injuftice: Juftice itself ought ever to be free; And therefore ev'ry juft man being a part Of that free juftice, fhould be free as it. 1. Then wherefore is there law for death? 2. That all
That know not what law is, nor freely can Perform the fitting juftice of a man,
In kingdom's common good, may be enforc'd : But is not ev'ry just man to himfelf
The perfect'it law? 1. Suppofe. 2. Then to himself Is ev'ry juft man's life fubordinate.
Again, fir; is not our free foul infus'd
To ev'ry body in her abfolute end
To rule that body? in which abfolute rule, Is fhe not abfolutely empress of it? And being emprefs, may fhe not difpofe It, and the life in it, at her just pleasure ? 1. Not to destroy it.
2. No: fhe not destroys it
when the dif-lives it; that their freedom
Go firm together, like their pow'rs and organs; Rather than let it live a rebel to her, Prophaning that divine conjunction
'Twixt her and it; nay, a disjunction making Betwixt them worse than death; in killing quick That which in juft death lives: being dead to her, If to her rule dead; and to her alive,
If dying in her just rule.
1. The body lives not when death hath reft it. 2. Yet 'tis free, and kept
Fit for rejunction in man's fecond life; Which dying rebel to the foul, is far Unfit to join with her in perfect life.
Chapman's Cæfar and Pompey.
Greatness of man, than valiant patience That shrinks not under his fate's strongest strokes ? Thefe Roman deaths, as falling on a fword, Op'ning of veins, with poifon quenching thirst, (Which we erroneously do ftile the deeds Of the heroick and magnanimous man) Was dead-ey'd cowardice, and white-cheek'd fear : Who doubting tyranny, and fainting under Fortune's falfe lottery, defp'rately run
To death, for dread of death. That foul's most stout, That bearing all mifchance, dares laft it out.
Beaumont and Fletcher's Honeft Man's Fortune.
This Roman refolution of felf-murder, Will not hold water at the high tribunal, When it comes to be argu'd. My good genius Prompts me to this confideration." He
That kills himself, t' avoid mis'ry, fears it; And at the beft fhews but a baftard valour: This life's a fort committed to my trust, Which I must not yield up, till it be forc'd ; Nor will I; he's not valiant that dares die; But he that boldly bears calamity
Malfinger's Maid of Honour. 1. I'll make myself in a capacity By death, to be an object of their juftice; I'll die immediately, I can do't myself. 2. Your piety avert fo black a deed! This is a way to make the world fufpect The worth of all your former actions; And that they were not births legitimate, Born from true honour; but the fpurious iffue Of an unguided heat, or chance How fhall We think, that man is truly valiant, And fit to be engag'd in things of fright And danger; that wants courage to fuftain An injury? It shews a fear of others, To be reveng'd upon ourselves; and he
Is not fo much a coward that flies death, As he that fuffers, and doth fear to live: Befides, this will enlarge your enemy's triumph; And in the world's opinion, be granted A tame conceffion to his worth; nay men, And with much face of reafon, may affirm, Ulyffes did not only win the arms, But conquer'd Ajax.
Shirley's Contention of Ajax and Ulyffes This ftrong defire of death, that hath poffefs'd Your will thus far; does not exprefs the figns Of that true valour, your fpirit seems to bear: For 'tis not courage, when the darts of chance Are thrown against our state, to turn our backs, And bafely run to death; as if the hand Of heav'n and nature had lent nothing else T'oppose against mishap, but lofs of life: Which is to fly, and not to conquer it. For know, it were true valour's part, my lord, That when the hand of chance had crufh'd our states, Ruin'd all that our faireft hopes had built,
And thrown it in heaps of defolation;
Then by those ruins for our thoughts to climb Up, 'till they dar'd blind fortune to the face, And urg'd her anger to encrease those heaps, That we might rife with them; and make her know, We were above, and all her pow'r below: Why this, my lord, would prove us men indeed.. But when affliction thunders o'er our roofs;
To hide our heads, and run into our graves, Shews us no men, but makes us fortune's flaves.
What, may not man unlock this cabinet, And free the heav'nly jewel of his foul? A wife man ftays not nature's period, but If things occur, which troubles his tranquillity, Emits himself; departing out of life, As from a ftage or theatre; nor passes
Whether he take, or make his diffolution; Whether he do't in fickness or in health. 'Tis bafe to live, but brave to die by stealth; This is the daring ftoick's glorious language: I was myfelf too of the opinion once; But now, I find it impious and unmanly : For as fome pictures drawn with flender lines, Deceiving almoft our intentive eyes, Affect us much; and with their fubtilties Wooe us to gaze upon them; but are found By killful and judicious eyes to err
In fymmetry of parts, and due proportion: Ev'n fo the ftoicks arguments are carv'd
With feeming curioulness, almoft forcing judgment; And carry with them an applaufive fhew Of undeniable verity: yet well fcann'd, They are more like the dreams of idle brains, Than the grave dictates of philofophers. The wife Pythagoras was opinion'd better; For moft divinely he forbids us leave
The corps du guard without our captain's licence: And to speak true, we are but ufufructuaries; The God that governs in us is proprietary. A prifoner breaking from his gaol or hold, If he be guilty, aggravates his guilt; If innocent, ftains ev'n that innocence Which might perhaps have brought him clearly off. 'Tis fo with us; our magiftrate, I mean
The pow'r that's fov'reign of this natʼral frame, Has fent us, Plato fays from heav'nly manfions, Into this fleshly prifon; here we live, And muft not free ourselves, but patiently Expect our fummons from that facred pow'r, By his lieutenant death: for otherwise We become guilty of a greater fin
Than parricide itfelf; no bond of nature Being fo near, as of one to himself.
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