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- Ignorance
Thinks she doth herself advance,
If of problems clear, the make
Riddles, and the sense forsake ;
Which came gentle from the muses,
Till her uttering, it abuses.

Johnson's Masques
Tis nought but thews that ignorance efteems:
The thing poffefs'd, is not the thing it seems.

Daniel's Civil War. Ignorance, that fometimes makes the hypocrite, Wants never mischief ; though it oft want fear: For whilst we think faith made to answer wit, Observe the justice that doth follow it.

Lord Brooke's Alahan. Oh, to confess, we know not what we should, Is half excuse ; we know not, what we would.

Dr. Donne, Heaven pities ignorance; She's still the first, that has her pardon fign'd: All fins elfe see their faults, she's only blind,

Middleton's No Help like a Woman's. Ignorance, when it hath purchas'd honour, It cannot wield it.

Webster's Dutchefs of Malfy. Can unjust ignorance offer fo much Wrong to itself? 'yet I have heard that such, For whom no language can be plain enough, Praise nought, but intricate and clouded stuff; As if that conscious to their own weak sense, Because they know not perfect eloquence, And yet would seem; they think that beft must be, That's fartheft off from their capacity.

May on Rutter's Shepherd's Holyday. But 'tis fome justice to ascribe to chance The wrongs you must expect from ignorance : None can the moulds of their creation chuse, We therefore should mens ignorance excuse,


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When born too low, to reach at things sublime ;
'Tis rather their misfortune than their crime.

Sir W. Davenant on E. of Orrery.
I, alas, was ignorant of thee,
As men have ever been of things most excellent ;
Making such judgment on thy beauty, as
Aftronomers on stars ;
Who, when their better use they could not know,
Believ'd that they were only made for shew.

Sir W. Davenant's Fair Favourite.
I M A G Ι Ν Α Τ Ι ο Ν.
Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends,
The lunatick, the lover, and the poet,
Are of imagination all compact :
One fees more devils than vaft hell can hold,
The madman ; while the lover, all as franţick,
See Helen's beauty in a brow of Ægypt.
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rowling,
Doth glance from heav'n to earth, from earth to heav'n;
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
Such tricks hath strong imagination,
That if he would but

apprehend some joy,
It comprehends some bringer of that joy ;
Or in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush, suppos’d a bear?

Shakespear's Midsummer Night's Dream.
My brain, methinks, is like an hour-glass,
Wherein m'imaginations run like fands,
Filling up time ; but then are turn'd and turn'd:
So that I know not what to stay upon,
And less to put in act.

Johnson's Every Man in his Humour.

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Whilft yet mine eyes do surfeit with delight,

My wofull heart imprison'd in my breaft, Witheth to be tran formed to my sight;

That it, like those, by looking might be blest : But whilft mine eyes thus greedily do gaze,

Finding their objects over-foon depart, These now the others happiness do praise,

Wishing themselves that they had been my heart; That eyes were heart, or that the heari were eyes ;

As covetous the other's use to have :
But finding nature their request denies;

This to each other mutually they crave ;
That since the one cannot the other be,
That eyes could think, or that my heart could see.

Drayton's Ideas.
Th'o'er-watch'd weakness of the fick conceit,
Is that, which makes small beauty seem so great ;
Like things which hid in troubled waters lie,
Which crook’d, seem straight ; if straight, the contrary:
And thus our vain imagination shews it,
As it conceives it, not as judgment knows it.

Drayton's Matilda to King John. -- Subtile opinion, Working in man's decayed faculties, Cuts out and shapes illusive fantasies; And our weak apprehensions, like wax Receive the form, and presently convey Unto our dull imagination : And hereupon we ground a thousand lies, As that we see deyils rattling in their chains ; Ghosts of dead men, variety of spirits ; When our own guilty conscience is che hell, And our black thoughts, the caverns where they dwell.

Day's Law Tricks. Imagination works ; how she can frame Things which are not; methinks she stands afore me, And by the quick idea of my mind, skill pregnant, I could draw her picture.

Webster's White Devil.

Were my

Odds in conceit: Conceit, an instrument,
Which though phantaftick, breeds realities.
The pregnant mother's strong imagination,
Hath giv'n her womb a real alteration.

Aleyn's Poitiers,
The little Ethiop Infant had not been
Black in his cradle, had he not been first
Black in the mother's strong imagination.
"Tis thought, the hairy child that's fhewn about,
Came by the mother's thinking on the picture
Of Saint John Baptist in his camel's coat.
See we not beatts conceive, as they do fancy
The present colours plac'd before their eyes?
We owe py'd colts unto the vary'd horse-cloth ;
And the white partridge to the neighb'ring snow.
Fancy can fave or kill; it hath clos'd up
Wounds when the balsam could not, and without
The aid of salves : to think hath been a cure.
For witchcraft then, that's all done by the force
Of mere imagination. That which can
Alter the course of nature, I presume
You'll grant, Thall bear more rule in petty hazards.

Cartwright's Ordinary, IMPRISON M E N T. Nay, be thou fure, l'il well requite thy kindness ; For that it made my imprisonment a pleasure ; Ay, such a pleasure, as incaged birds Conceive, when after many moody thoughts, At last by notes of houshold harmony, They quite forget their lofs of liberty.

Shakespear's Third Part of King Henry VI. For as these tow'rs our bodies do inclose, So our souls prisons verily are those ; Our bodies stopping that celestial light, As these do hinder our exterior fight : Whereon death seizing, doth discharge the debt, And us at blessed liberty doth fet. Drayton's Jane Grey to Gildford Dudley.


That comes with honour, is true liberty.

Maffinger and Field's Fatal Dowry.
How like
A prison's to a grave! when dead, we are
With solemn pomp brought thither; and our heirs,
Masking their joy in falle dissembled tears,
Weep o'er the hearse : bat earth no sooner covers
The earth brought thither, but they turn away
With inward smiles, the dead no more remember'd :
So enter'd into a prison.

Moffinger's Maid of Honour.
o that I were no farther sensible

mis’ries than you are ! you like beasts
Feel only ftings of hunger, and complain not
But when you're empty : But your narrow fouls,
If you have any, cannot comprehend
How insupportable the torments are,
Which a free and noble foul made captive, suffers:
Most mis'rable men ! and what am I then,
That envy you? fetters though made of gold,
Express base thraldom ; and all delicates
Prepar'd by Median cooks for epicures,
When not our own, are bitter quilts fill'd high
With goffamire and roses ; cannot yield
The body soft repose, the mind kept waking
With anguish and affliction.

Mafinger, Ibid.
Why should we murmur to be circumscribd,
As if it were a new thing to wear fetters ?
When the whole world was meant but to confine us ;
Wherein, who walks from one clime to another,
Hath but a greater freedom of the prison :
Our soul was the first captive, born to inherit
But her own chains ; nor can it be discharg’d,
Till nature tire with its own weight, and then
We are but more undone, to be at liberty.

Shirley's Court Secret.


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