BEAUMONT and FLETCHER here at last we see Above the reach of dull mortalitie, Or pow'r of fate: thus the proverbe hitts (Thats so much crost)

"I hate the heaven, because it doth withhould 400 Me from my love, and eke my love from me; I hate the earth, because it is the mould Of fleshly slime and fraile mortalitie; I hate the fire, because to nought it flyes; I hate the ayre, because sighes of it be; 405 I hate the sea, because it teares supplyes.