And then the Lover
Sighing like Furnace, with a woful Ballad
Made to his Mistress' Eye-brow. Then a Soldier
Full of strange Oaths, and bearded like the Pard,
Jealous in Honour, sudden and quick in Quarrel,
Seeking the bubble Reputation
Ev'n in the Cannon's Mouth. And then the Justice
In fair round Belly, with good Capon lin'd,
With Eyes severe, and Beard of formal Cut,
Full of wise Saws and modern Instances;
And so he plays his Part. The sixth Age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd Pantaloon,
With Spectacles on Nose, and Pouch on Side;
His youthful Hose, well sav'd, a world too wide
For his shrunk Shank; and his big manly Voice
Turning again tow'rd childish treble Pipes,
And Whistles in his Sound. Last Scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful History,
Is second Childishness and meer Oblivion,
Sans Teeth, sans Eyes, sans Tast, sans ev'rything._
p. 625.
His Images are indeed ev'ry where so lively, that the Thing he would
represent stands full before you, and you possess ev'ry Part of it. I
will venture to point out one more, which is, I think, as strong and as
uncommon as any thing I ever saw; 'tis an Image of Patience. Speaking of
a Maid in Love, he says,
_--She never told her Love,
But let Concealment, like a Worm i' th' Bud
Feed on her Damask Cheek: She pin'd in Thought,
And sate like _Patience_ on a Monument,
Smiling at_ Grief.
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