But Hercules himself must yield to odds;
And many strokes, though with a little axe,
Hew down and fell the hardest-timber’d oak.”
This is almost the coincidence of the copyist, and but for the necessities of the metre, Whitney’s words might have been literally quoted.
“Manie droppes pierce the stone,” has its parallel in the half-bantering, half-serious, conversation between King Edward and Lady Grey (3 Henry VI., act iii. sc. 2, l. 48, vol. v. p. 280). The lady prays the restoration of her children’s lands, and the king intimates he has a boon to ask in return,—
“King Edw. Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.
Grey. Why then I will do what your grace commands.
Glou. [Aside to Clar.] He plies her hard; and much rain wears the marble.
Clar. [Aside to Glou.] As red as fire! nay, then her wax must melt.”
In Otho Vænius (p. 210), where Cupid is bravely working at felling a tree, to the motto, “By continuance,” we find the stanza,—