University of Virginia Library

Sanazar's Hexastick.

[In Adriatick waves when Neptune saw]

In Adriatick waves when Neptune saw,
The City stand, and give the Seas a Law,
Now i'th Tarpeian tow'rs Jove rival me,
And Mars his Walls impregnable, said he;
Let Seas to Tyber yield, view both their ods,
You'l grant that built by Men, but this by Gods.

[In Virgilium. Pentadii] In English.

A Swain, Hind, Knight; I fed, till'd, did command
Goats, Fields, my Foes; with leaves, a spade, my hand.

[De Scævola] Englished.

The hand by which no King but Serjeant dies,
Mutius in fire doth freely Sacrifice;
The Prince admires the Hero, quits his pains,
And Victor from the seige peace entertains;
Romes more oblig'd to Flames, than Arms or pow'r,
When one burnt hand shall the whole war devour.

Of Cato.

The World orecome, victorious Cæsar, he
That conquer'd all; great Cato, could not thee.

Another.

[One stabbe could not fierce Cato's Life unty]

One stabbe could not fierce Cato's Life unty;
Onely his hand of all that wound did dy;
Deeper his Fingers tear to make a way
Open, through which his mighty Soul might stray.
Fortune made this delay to let us know,
That Cato's hand more then his Sword could do.

Another.

[The hand of sacred Cato bad to tear]

The hand of sacred Cato bad to tear
His breast, did start, and the made wound forbear,
Then to the gash he said with angry brow,
And is there ought great Cato cannot do?

Another.

[What doubt'st thou hand? sad Cato 'tis to kill]

What doubt'st thou hand? sad Cato 'tis to kill;
But he'l be free, sure hand thou doubt'st not still;
Cato alive 'tis just all men be free,
Nor conquers he himself now if he die.

[Pentadii] Englished.

It is not, y' are deceav'd, it is not blisse
What you conceave a happy living is;
To have your hands with Rubies bright to glow,
Then on your Tortoise-bed your body throw,
And sink your self in Down, to drink in gold,
And have your looser self in purple roll'd;
With Royal fare to make the Tables groan,
Or else with what from Lybick fields is mown,
Nor in one vault hoard all your Magazine,
But at no Cowards fate t'have frighted bin,
Nor with the peoples breath to be swol'n great,
Nor at a drawn Stiletto basely sweat.
He that dares this, nothing to him's unfit,
But proud o' th'top of Fortunes wheel may sit.