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How many bawble Boats dare fet their Sails,
And make an equal way with firmer Veffels?
But let the Tempeft once enrage the Sea,
And then behold the ftrong-rib'd Argofie
Bounding between the Ocean and the Air,
Like Perfeus mounted on his Pegafus:

Then where are thofe weak Rivals of the Main ?
Or to avoid the Tempest fled to Port,

Or made a Prey to Neptune. Even thus
Do empty Show and true priz'd Worth divide
In Storms of Fortune.

Shak. & Dryd. Troil. & Creff.

With fuch unfhaken Temper of the Soul

To bear the swelling Tide of profp'rous Fortune,
Is to deserve that Fortune. In Adverfity

The Mind grows tough by buffetting the Tempeft;
But in Succefs diffolving, finks to Ease,
And lofes all her Firmness.

Thou hast been

As one in fuffering all, that fuffers nothing:
A Man who Fortune's Buffets and Rewards
Haft ta'en with equal Thanks: And bleft are they
Whofe Blood and Judgment mingled are so well,
That they are not a Pipe for Fortune's Finger,
To found what Stop the please.

Let Fortune empty her whole Quiver on me,
I have a Soul, that like an ample Shield,
Can take in all, and Verge enough for more.
Fate was not mine, nor am I Fate's.

Souls know no Conquerours.

We wage unequal War.

With Men unconquer'd in the lifted Field;

Or conquer'd, yet unknowing how to yield.

Row. Tamerl.

Shak. Ham!.

Dryd. Don Seb.

Dryd. Virg

So tho' lefs worthy Stones are drown'd by Night,

And is oblig'd to Darkness for a Ray,

The faithful Di'mond keeps his native Light;

That would be more opprefs'd than help'd by Day.
What e'er betides, by Destiny 'tis done,

Cowl.

And better bear like Men, than vainly feek to fhun. Dryd. Pal.

But Hudibras, who fcorn'd to ftoop

To Fortune, or be faid to droop,

Chear'd up himself with Ends of Verfe,
And Sayings of Philofophers.

Quoth he,

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(Arc.

Than

Than when adorn'd with all his Light,
He fhines in ferene Sky moft bright:
So Valour in a low Eftate

Is most admir'd and wonder'd at.
As Beards, the nearer that they tend
To th'Earth, ftill grow more reverend ;
And Cannons fhoot the higher Pitches,
The lower we let down their Breeches :
I'll make this low dejected Fate
Advance me to a greater Height.

FORTUN E. See Fate, Fool, Viciffitude.
On high, where no hoarfe Winds nor Clouds resort,
The hood-wink'd Goddefs keeps her partial Court.
Upon a Wheel of Amethyft fhe fits;

Hud.

Gives and refumes, and fmiles and frowns by fits.
In this ftill Labyrinth around her lie

Spells, Philtres, Globes, and Schemes of Palmeftry.

A Sigil in this Hand the Gypfy bears,

In th'other a prophetick Sieve and Shears.

Gar

Where Nature has deny'd, her Favours flow:
Tis fhe that gives, fo mighty is her Pow'r !
Faith to the Jew, Complexion to the Moor.
She is the Wretches With, the Rook's Pretence,
The Sluggard's Eafe, the Coxcomb's Providence:
Souls heav'nly-born her faithlefs Boons defy;
The Brave is to himfelf a Deity.

Gay

The Wife are always Mafters of their own. 3. Dryd. Jun. Juv.

Fortune a Goddess is to Fools alone,

Fortune was never worfhipp'd by the Wife,

But, fet aloft by Fools, ufurps the Skies.

Dryd. Juv.

Dryd. Juv.

She for her Pleafure can her Fools advance,
And tofs 'em topmoft on the Wheel of Chance.
Fortune! made up of Toys and Impudence,
Thou common Jade, thou haft not common Senfe!
But, fond of Bus'nefs, infolently dares
Pretend to rule, and spoil the World's Affairs!
She fluttr'ing up and down her Fayours throws
On the next met, not minding what she does,
Nor why, nor whom the helps or injures, knows.
Sometimes the fmiles, then like a Fury raves,
And feldom truly loves but Fools or Knaves.
Let her love whom the please, I fcorn to wooe her:
While the ftays with me I'll be civil to her;
But if the offer once to move her Wings,
I'll fling her back all her vain guegaw things;
And arm'd with Virtue, will more glorious ftand,
Than if the Bitch ftill bow'd at my Command.

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I'll marry Honefty tho' ne'er fo poor,

Rather than follow fuch a blind dull Whore.

Fortune's a Miftrefs, that with Caution's kind,

Knows that the Conftant merit her alone:

Buck.

They, who tho' fhe feem froward, yet court on. Otw. Don Carl.
Were the a common Mistress, kind to all,

Her Work would cease, and half the World grow idle.
When Fortune means to Men most Good,

She looks upon them with a threatning Eye.
Fortune, that with malicious Joy
Does Man, her Slave, opprefs;
Proud of her Office to deftroy,
Is feldom pleas'd to blefs.

Still various, and inconftant ftill,

But with an Inclination to be ill;

Promotes, degrades, delights in Strife,
And makes a Lottery of Life.

I can enjoy her while fhe's kind;
But when the dances in the Wind,
And fhakes her Wings, and will not stay,
I puff the Prostitute away.

Otw.

(Orph:

Shak. K. John.

The Little or the Much fhe gave is quietly refign'd:
Content with Poverty, my Soul I arm;
And Virtue, tho' in Rags, will keep me warm.
What is't to me,

Who never fail in her unfaithful Sea,

If Storms arife, and Clouds grow black,
If the Maft fplit, and threaten Wreck;
Then let the greedy Merchant fear

For his ill-gotten Gain,

And pray to Gods that will not hear,
While the debating Winds and Billows bear
His Wealth into the Main.
For me, fecure from Fortune's Blows,
Secure of what I cannot lofe,
In my fmall Pinnace I can fail,
Contemning all the bluft'ring Roar ;
And running with a merry Gale,
With friendly Stars my Safety feek
Within fome little winding Creek,

And fee the Storm afhore.

Dryd. Hor.

Good Fortune that comes feldom, comes more welcom. Dr. Oedip.

Whose Fortune is not fitted to his Will,

Too great or little, is uneafy ftill:

Our Shooes and Fortunes fure are much ally'd,
We limp in ftrait, and ftumble in the wide.

N4

Staff. Hor.

O Mor

O Mortals! blind in Fate, who never know To bear high Fortune, or endure the low!

Pleasure has been the Businefs of my Life, And every Change of Fortune easy to me, Because I ftill was eafy to my felf.

In all my Wars good Fortune flew before me;
Sublime I fate in Triumph on her Wheel.

Fortune came fmiling to my Youth, and woo'd
And purpled Greatnefs met my ripen'd Years.
When firft I came to Empire, I was born
On Tides of People crowding to my Triumphs:
The With of Nations, and the willing World
Receiv'd me as its Pledge of future Peace.
I was fo great, fo happy, fo belov'd,

Fate could not ruin me; till I took Pains

Dryd. Virg.

Dryd. Don Seb.

Dryd. Don Seb it;

And work'd against my Fortune; chid her from me,
And turn'd her loofe; yet ftill the came again.
My careless Days, and my luxurious Nights
At length have wearied her; and now fhe's gone,
Gone, gone, divorc'd for ever.

Fortune is Cafar's now, and what am I?
Oh! I am now fo funk from what I was,
Thou find'ft me at my loweft Water-mark:
The Rivers that ran in and rais'd my Fortunes,
Are all dry'd up, or take another Course.
What I have left is from my native Spring;
I've ftill a Heart that fwells in fcorn of Fate,
And lifts me to my Banks.

Glutton of Fortune! thy devouring Youth
Has ftarv'd thy wanting Age.

Dryd. All for Love.

Ay me what Perils do inviron
The Man that meddles with cold Iron ?
What plaguy Mifchiefs and Mishaps
Do dog him ftill with After-claps!
For tho' Dame Fortune feem to fmile,
And leer upon him for a while ;
She'll after fhew him, in the Nick
Of all his Honours, a Dog-trick.
For Hudibras who thought h'had won
The Field as certain as a Gun;
And, having routed the whole Troop,
With Victory was cock-a-hoop;
Found in few Minutes to his Coft,
He did but count without his Hoft;
And that a Turn-ftile is more certain,
Than in Events of War Dame Fortune.

Hud.

Events are doubtful which on Battels wait;
But where's the Doubt to Souls fecure of Fate ?
How hard 'tis for the Profperous to fee
That Fate, which waits on Pow'r and Victory.
'Tis better not to be than be unhappy!
'Tis better not to be than to be Creon:
A thinking Soul is Punishment enough;

But when 'tis great, like mine, and wretched too,
Then every Thought draws Blood.

My Soul's ill marry'd to my Body:

I would be young, be handfom, be belov'd.
Could I but breath my felf into Adraftus!
Were but my Soul in Oedipus, I were a King!
Then I had kill'd a Monster! Gain'd a Battel!

And had my Rival Pris'ner! Brave, brave Actions!
Why have not I done these?

My Fortune hindred!

There's it: I have a Soul to do 'em all:

But Fertune will have nothing done that's great,

But by young handfom Fools! Body and Brawn
Do all her Work: Hercules was a Fool,

And ftreight grew famous; A mad boift'rous Fool!
Nay worse, a Woman's Fool.

Fool is the Stuff of which Heav'n makes a Hero.

Dryd. Virg.

How.

Dryd

[Spoken by Creon in Oedipus.] Nature meant me

A Wife, a filly harmlefs Houfhold Dove,
Fond without Art, and kind without Deceit :
But Fortune that has made a Mistress of me,

Has thrust me out to the wide World, unfurnifh'd (All for Love.

Of Falfhood to be happy.

[Spoken by Cleopatra.] Dryd.

Why was I fram'd with this plain honeft Heart, Which knows not to difguife its Grief and Weakness, But bears its Workings outward to the World?

I am made a fhallow foarded Stream,

Seen to the Bottom: All my Clearnefs fcorn'd,

And all my Faults expos'd.

Fate's dark Receffes we can never find,

But Fortune, at fome Hours, to all is kind.

Dryd. All for Love.

The Lucky have whole Days, which ftill they choose ;

Th'Unlucky have but Hours, and those they loofe. Dr.Tyr.Love. Who knows what changeful Fortune may produce? Dryd. Virg. FOWL. See Mercury.

So fpread upon a Lake, with upward Eye

A Plump of Fowl behold their Foe on high:

They close their trembling Troop, and all attend

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On whom the foufing Eagle will defcend. Dryd. Theod. & Hon.

Sée

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