But praise she need not fear: I see my fate; And headlong leap, like Curtius, down the gulf. Since many an ample volume, mighty tome, Must die; and die unwept; O thou minute Devoted page! go forth among thy foes; Go, nobly proud of martyrdom for truth, And die a double death: mankind incensed, Denies thee long to live: nor shalt thou rest, When thou art dead; in Stygian shades arraign'd 1400 By Lucifer, as traitor to his throne; And bold blasphemer of his friend,--the World; The World, whose legions cost him slender pay, And volunteers around his banner swarm; 1404 Prudent, as Prussia,[51] in her zeal for Gaul. "Are all, then, fools?" Lorenzo cries.--Yes, all, But such as hold this doctrine (new to thee); "The mother of true wisdom is the will;" The noblest intellect, a fool without it. World-wisdom much has done, and more may do, 1410 In arts and sciences, in wars, and peace: But art and science, like thy wealth, will leave thee, And make thee twice a beggar at thy death. This is the most indulgence can afford;-- "Thy wisdom all can do, but--make thee wise." Nor think this censure is severe on thee; Satan, thy master, I dare call a dunce. 1417 THE CONSOLATION: CONTAINING, AMONG OTHER THINGS, I. A MORAL SURVEY OF THE NOCTURNAL HEAVENS. II. A NIGHT ADDRESS TO THE DEITY. HUMBLY INSCRIBED TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE, ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S PRINCIPAL SECRETARIES OF STATE. Fatis contraria fata rependens.--Virg. NIGHT NINTH. THE CONSOLATION.