He thus forcibly describes the difference that would take place in the behaviour of worldlings, if he should become the heir of wealth and independence. Might I heire to some usurer be found, Whose gorged chests surfet with cramming gold; So full, that they no sterling more may hold: for me, I would elect, flaunt, cut and swash for mates, Ajax would not presume to proove my might, Dignitie seem inferiour, and too bad To be my shadowe, Science would attend, Dutifull loyalty would humbly greete But now, the worst are censured too good, So odible an object am I thought, Contemn'd, forsaken, loath'd, and set at nought. Yet, miser! thus disparaged I live; Succour and meanes of maintenance to mee The heate, the ayre, the woods and waters give, I borrow not,-doubting to be denide, I steale not,-fearing my life should be tride. Come, staff! and manage mine unhappy hand; Scrip! guard my shoulders, burthen light to bare: The lighter purse, the lesse the cares are found; The Patience of Poverty is illustrated in a poem of a still more nervous and interesting kind. But having exhibited more than was at first intended of the previous production, the less opportunity is afforded for exhibiting this: I therefore only extract the commencement and close. Depart, ye discontents, like reprobates, For Patience all adversities indures; In rarest disposition imitates Hearbe Panace, that all diseases cures, Heales interne maladies of wounded minds, And salves the sores that physicke salveless finds. Credit not vaine Perswasion, that deludes Fond Tractability with fallacies; And such inducements forcibly intrudes Into credulitie, with sophistries, That man, whom reason's index should direct, Aske Contentation, what's felicity? And aske Felicity, what is content? Aşke Life, what is the death of misery? And aske dumbe Death, what makes life permanent? Peruse the contents of contented minde, Discretion, censure, which is better found So competence necessities may steede. Brooks satisfie thirst with convenient store, With the concluding stanzas I terminate this article. If Adam, through forbidden fruite forsooke Those Eden pleasures of felicity; If that Lot's wife, for one retorted looke, In pillar of salt found such misery; These Sodome apples I will not behold, That inward are but dust, though outward gold. Vertue joyne hand in hand with Poverty, And we will walke secure from bonds of feares; Not surpris'd with preventing misery, 』 Don Zara del Fogo: a mock romance. Written originally in the Brittish Tongue, and made English by a person of much honor, Basilius Musophilus. With a marginall comment, expounding the hard things of the History. Si foret in terris rideret Democritus. London, printed by Tho. Vere, at the sign of the Angel without Newgate, 1656. This is said to have received another title in the same year, viz. Wit and Fancy in a Maze, or the incomparable Champion of Love and Beauty, embellished with many rare and choyce pieces of Drollery. It certainly had the following prefix a few years afterward: Romancio-Mastrix: or a Romance on Romances. In which the prodigious Vanities of a great part of them are (as in a Mirrour) most lively represented, and so naturally personated, that the ingenious Reader, observing their deformities, may delightfully be instructed and invited to the pursuing of more honourable and profitable studies. By Samuel Holland,* Gent. * A poetical encomium, so signatured, is prefixed to Sheppard's Epigrams, 1657. HORÁT. Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci. No man more worthy of true praise doth write, Printed for the Author, in the year of our Lord, 1660. pp. 216. 12mo. THIS romance-travestie possesses much shrewd sarcasm and facetious wit, and fully exposes the silly incidents, absurd extravagancies, and bombastic pomposities introduced in some of the writings of that cast. The opening of the first chapter conveys no unskilful skit on some of the tinsel ornaments of the once fashionable romance style. "It was now about that mungrell hour when the blackbrow'd Night and grey-eyed Morning strove for superiority, when the mirror of martiall spirits, Don Zara del Fogo, sweeping the somniferous god from off his ample front with that broom of heaven, his face-pounding fist, entred into serious. contemplation of the renowned acts of his most noble ancestors, Tristram the terrible, and the great Lancelot of the Lake. So ravishing were those heroick rhapsodies, that (upon mature chew of the cud) the champion began to tax himself of tardity: as not having accumulated that fame which at the price of so eminent dangers† he had so hotly hunted after. This second cogitation had but a while combated with the first, when he * Printed Thristram, but it is presumed by an error of the press. "See the legend of Don Sordido, knight of the dripping pan, written by the author of Cassandra," |