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These can lie,
Flatter, and swear, deprave, inform,
Smile and betray. ; make guilty men; then beg
The forfeit lives, to get the livings; cut
Men's throats with whisperings; sell to gaping suitors
The empty smoke that flies about a palace.

I have been told, virtue in courtiers' hearts
Suffers an ostracism, and departs.

True courtiers should be modest, and not nice;
Bold, but not inipudent; pleasure love, not vice.

Poor wretches, that depend
On greatness' favour, dream as I have done ;
Wake and find nothing.

The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
Whom I have soon to weed and pluck away.

I hardly yet have learn'd
T' insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend the knee.

Those, that go up hill, use to bow
Their bodies forward, and stoop low,
To poise themselves; and sometimes creep
When th’ way is difficult and steep:
So those at court, that do address
By low, ignoble offices,
Can stoop at any thing that's base,
To wriggle into trust and grace,
Are like to rise to greatness sooner
Than those that go by worth and honour.

BUTLER'S Hudibras See how he sets his countenance for deceit, And promises a lie before he speaks.


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'Tis the curse of kings,
To be surrounded by a venal herd
Of flatterers, that soothe his darling vices,
And rob their master of his subjects' love.

Brook's Earl of Warwick.
Curse on the coward or perfidious tongue
That dares not, even to kings, avow the truth.

T'HOMSON. To shake with laughter, ere the jest they hear, To pour, at will, the counterfeited tear; And, as their patron hints the cold or heat, To shake in dog-days, in December sweat.

DR. JOHNSON. A lazy, proud, unprofitable crew, The vermin gender'd from the rank corruption Of a luxurious state.

CUMBERLAND. A mere court butterfly, That flutters in the pageant of a monarch.

Byron's Sardanapalus And none did love him—though to hall and bower

He gather'd followers from far and near; He knew them flatterers of the festal hour, The heartless parasites of present cheer.

BYRON's Childe Harold.


Bring, therefore, all the forces that you may,

And lay incessant battery to her heart ;
Plaints, prayers, vows, ruth, and sorrow, and dismay-
These engines can the proudest love convert.

SPENSER's Sonnets,


So well he woo'd her, and so well he wrought her,

With fair entreaty and sweet blandishment,
That at the length unto a bay he brought her,

So that she to his speeches was content
To lend an ear, and softly to relent.

Spenser's Fairy Queen.
I do not love
Much ceremony; suits in love should not,
Like suits in law, be rock'd from term to term.

SHIRLEY There is, sir, a critical minute in Every man's wooing, when his mistress may Be won, which if he carelessly neglect To prosecute, he may wait long enough Before he gains the like opportunity.

MARMYAN. She is beautiful, therefore to be woo'd; She is woman, therefore to be won.

SHAKSPEARE. Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces; Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces. That man that has a tongue, I say, is no man, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

SHAKSPEARE. Say that she rail; why then I'll tell her plain, She sings as sweetly as the nightingale ; Say that she frown; I'll say, she looks as clear As morning roses newly wash'd with dew; Say she be mute, and will not speak a word ; Then I'll commend her volubility, And say, she uttereth piercing eloquence.

SHIAKSPEARE. But tho' I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not ; And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man; Or, that we women had men's privilege Of speaking first.


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In these ars of mine,
These credulous ears, he pour'd the sweetest words
That art or love could frame.

I am not form’d, by flattery and praise,
By sighs and tears, and all the whining trade
Of love, to feed a fair one's vanity,
To charm at once, and spoil her.

THOMSON He that would win his dame, must do As Love does when he draws his bow; With one hand thrust the lady from, And with the other pull her home.

Butler's Hudibras For, you must know, a widow's won With brisk attempt and putting on; With ent'ring manfully, and urging, Not slow approaches, like a virgin.

BUTLER's Hudibras. She most attracts who longest can refuse.

A ARON HILL. With easy

freedom and a gay address, A pressing lover seldom wants success.

Rowe A witty, wild, inconstant, free gallant.

Rowe. To me he came; my heart with rapture sprung, To see the blushes, when his faltering tongue First said, I love. My eyes consent reveal, And plighted vows our faithful passion seal.

Gay's Dione, So, with decorum all things carried, Miss frown'd, and blush'd, and then was married.

GOLDSMITH. She half consents who silently denies.

Ovid. Mer dream in courtship. but in wedlock wake.

Pope's Eloisa.


Like a lovely tree
She grew to womanhood, and between whiles
Rejected several suitors, just to learn
How to accept a better in his turn.

Byron's Don Jurn. The gentle pressure and the thrilling touch.

BYRON'S Don Juan To pick up gloves, and fans, and knitting-needles, And list for songs and tunes, and watch for smiles, And smile at pretty prattle, and look into The eyes of maids as tho' they were bright stars.

BYRON But yet she listen’d—'t is enough

Who listens once will listen twice,

Her heart, be sure, is not of ice, And one refusal's no rebuff.

Byron's Mazeppa Then thro' my brain the thought did pass,

Even as a flash of lightning there,
That there was something in her air
That would not doom me to despair.

Byron's Mazeppa. Skill'd in the ogle of a roguish eye.

Byron's Childe Harold. Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast, Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs. Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes, But not too humbly, or she will despise : Disguise even tenderness, if thou art wise.

BYRON'S Childe Harold. In whispers low, And sweet as softest music's gentle flow, The lovers spoke.

Mrs. Howe. Whue the dimple and blush, starting soft to her cheek, Told the tale that her tongue was too timid to speak.

MRS. Osgood.

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