A COLLECTION OF PASSAGES TRANSLATED IN THE PROSE WRITINGS.
[From Of Reformation in England, 1641.]
Ah Constantine, of how much ill was cause Not thy Conversion, but those rich demains That the first wealthy Pope receiv'd of thee.
Founded in chast and humble Poverty, 'Gainst them that rais'd thee dost thou lift thy horn, Impudent whoore, where hast thou plac'd thy hope? In thy Adulterers, or thy ill got wealth? Another Constantine comes not in hast.
And to be short, at last his guid him brings Into a goodly valley, where he sees A mighty mass of things strangely confus'd Things that on earth were lost or were abus'd.
Then past he to a flowry Mountain green, Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously; This was that gift (if you the truth will have) That Constantine to good Sylvestro gave.
ARIOSTO, Orl. Fur. xxxiv. 80.
[From Reason of Church Government, 1641.] When I die, let the Earth be roul'd in flames.
[From Apology for Smectymnuus, 1642.]
Laughing to teach the truth What hinders? as some teachers give to Boys Junkets and knacks, that they may learne apace.
Jesting decides great things Stronglier, and better oft than earnest can.
'Tis you that say it, not I: you do the deeds And your ungodly deeds find me the words.
[From Areopagitica, 1644.]
This is true Liberty, when free-born Men, Having to advise the Public, may speak free, Which he who can, and will, deserv's high praise; Who neither can nor will, may hold his peace, What can be juster in a state then this?
[From Tetrachordon, 1645.]
Whom do we count a good man, whom but he Who keeps the laws and statutes of the Senate, Who judges in great suits and controversies, Whose witness and opinion wins the cause ? But his own house, and the whole neighbourhood See his foul inside through his whited skin.
[From The Tenure of Kings and Magistrates, 1649.]
There can be slaine
No sacrifice to God more acceptable Than an unjust and wicked king.
[From History of Britain, 1670.]
Brutus thus addresses Diana in the country of Leogecia.
Goddess of Shades, and Huntress, who at will Walk'st on the rowling Sphear, and through the deep, On thy third Reign the Earth look now, and tell What Land, what Seat of rest thou bidst me seek, What certain Seat, where I may worship thee For aye, with Temples vow'd, and Virgin quires.
To whom sleeping before the altar, Diana in a Vision that night thus answer'd.
Brutus far to the West, in th' Ocean wide Beyond the Realm of Gaul, a Land there lies, Sea-girt it lies, where Giants dwelt of old, Now void, it fits thy People; thether bend Thy course, there shalt thou find a lasting seat, There to thy Sons another Troy shall rise, And Kings be born of thee, whose dredded might Shall aw the World, and conquer Nations bold.
Joannis Miltoni
LONDINENSIS
POEMATA.
Quorum pleraque intra Annum ætatis Vigefimuın Confcripfit.
Typis R. R.. Prostant ad Infignia Principis, in Cemeterio D. Pauli, apud Humphredum
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