Values itself fo highly, that to her
All matter elfe feems weak: the cannot love,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is fo felf-endear'd.
Much Ado About Nothing, A. 3. Sc. 1.
I never yet faw man,
How wife, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd,
But she would spell him backward: if fair-faced,
She'd fwear the gentleman fhou'd be her fifter
If black, why Nature, drawing of an antic,
Made a foul blot: if tall, a launce ill-headed;
If low, an aglet very vilely cut:
If fpeaking, why, a vane blown with all winds;
If filent, why, a block moved with none.
So turns the every man the wrong fide out,
And never gives to truth and virtue that
Which fimplenefs and merit purchaseth.
The crow doth fing as fweetly as the lark,
When neither is attended; and, I think,
The nightingale, if fhe fhould fing by day,
When every goofe is cackling, would be thought
No better a mufician than, the wren.
How many things by feafon feafon'd are
To their right praife, and true perfection!
The Merchant of Venice, A 5. Sc. 1.
SEDUCTION.
This man hath witch'd the bofom of my child:
Thou, thou, Evander, thou haft given her rhimes,
And interchang'd love tokens with my child:
Thou hast by moonlight at her window fung,
With feigning voice, verfes of feigning love;
And ftol'n th impreflion of her phantafy,
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits,
Knacks, trifles, nofegays, fweet-meats; (meffengers
Of ftrong prevailment in unharden'd youth):
With cunning haft thou filch'd my daughter's heart,
Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me,
To ftubborn harshness.
A Midsummer Night's Dream, A. 1. Sc. 1.
Tho' for myself alone,
I would not be ambitious in my wish,
To with myself much better: yet for you,
I would be trebled twenty times myself;
A thousand times more fair; ten thousand times
More rich; that, to ftand high in your account,
I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,
Exceed account: but the full fum of me
Is fum of fomething, which, to term in grofs,
Is an unleffon'd girl, unfchool'd, unpractis'd:
Happy in this, he is not yet fo old
But the may learn; more happy than in this,
She is not bred fo dull but the can learn ;
Happiest of all, is that her gentle spirit
Commits itself to yours to be directed,
As from her lord, her governor, her king :
Myself, and what is mine, to you and yours
Is now converted.
The Merchant of Venice, A. 3. Sc. z.
SELF-INTEREST.
Rounded in the ear,
With that fame purpofe-changer, that fly devil,
That broker, that ftill breaks the pate of Faith,
That daily break-vow, he that wins of all,
Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,
Who having no external thing to lofe
But the word Maid, cheats the poor maid of that;
That finooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling commodity,
Commodity, the biafs of the world,
The world, which of itself is poised well,
Made to run even, upon even ground:
Till this advantage, this vile drawing biass,
This fway of motion, this commodity,
Makes it take head from all indifferency,
From all direction, purpose, course, intent.
King John, A. 2. Sc. 6.
SELF-LOVE.
Self-love is not fo vile a fin
As felf-neglecting.
Henry V. A. 2. Sc. 4.
SEPARATION.
SEPARATION.
To die, is to be banish'd from myself;
And Silvia is myself :, banish'd from her,
Is felf from felf; a deadly banishment!
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen ?
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by,
Unless it be to think that he is by,
And feed upon the shadow of perfection?
Except I be by Silvia in the night,
There is no mufic in the nightingale ;
Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
There is no day for me to look upon:
She is my effence; and I leave to be,
If I be not by her fair influence
Fofter'd, illumin'd, cherifh'd, kept alive.
The Two Gentlemen of Verona, A. 3. Sc. 1.
So play the foolish throngs with one that fwoons;
Come all to help him, and fo ftop the air
By which he should revive and even fo
The gen'ral fubjects to a well-wish'd king
Quit their own part, and in obfequious fondness
Croud to his prefence, where their untaught love
Muft needs appear offence.
Meafure for Measure, A. 2. Sc. I.
It is the curfe of kings to be attended
By flaves that take their humours for a warrant,
To break into the bloody houfe of life;
And on the winking of authority,
To understand a law, to know the meaning
Of dang'rous Majefty; when, perchance, it frowns
More upon humour, than advis'd refpect.
I am a true labourer, I earn that I eat; get that I wear; owe no man hate; envy no man's happiness; glad of other men's good, content with my harm ; and the greateft of my pride, is to fee my ewes graze, and my lambs fuck.
As You Like It, A. 3. Sc. 3.
I know, the more one fickens, the worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money, means and content, is without three good friends: that the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn: that good pasture makes fat fheep; and that a great cause of the night, is lack of the fun that he that hath learn'd no wit by nature, nor art, may complain of good-breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.
SICK N ES S.
Infirmity doth ftili neglect all office,
Whereto our health is bound: we are not ourselves
When nature, being opprefs'd, commands the mind
To fuffer with the body.
SIMPLICITY,
I was not much afraid; for once or twice
I was about to fpeak, and tell him plainly,
The felf-fame fun, that shines upon his court,
Hides not his vifage from our cottage, but
Looks on alike.
The Winter's Tale, A. 4. Sc. 3.
SLAN DE R.
upon fucceffion;
where it once gets poffeffion.
The Comedy of Errors, A. 3. Sc. 1.
Whofe edge is fharper than the fword; whofe tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile; whofe breath
Rides on the pofting winds, and doth belye
All corners of the world: kings, queens and states,
Maids, matrons-nay the fecrets of the grave,
This viperous flander enters.
Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter
As level as the cannon to his blank
Transports his poifon'd fhot, may miss our name,
And hit the woundless air.
Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It feldom vifits forrow; when it doth,
The Tempeft, A. 2. Sc. 1.
Nature's foft nurfe, how I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down,
And steep my fenfes in forgetfulness!
Why rather, Sleep, ly'st thou in fmoaky cribs,
Upon uneafy pallets ftretching thee,
And huht with buzzing night-flies to thy flumber,
Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of coftly ftate,
And lull'd with founds of sweetest melody?
O thou dull god! why ly'st thou with the vile
In loathfome beds, and leav'ft the kingly couch
A watch-cafe to a common larum-bell?
Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy maft,
Seal up the fhip-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious furge;
And in the vifitation of the winds,
Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monftrous heads, and hanging them
With deaf'ning clamours in the flip'ry fhrouds,
That with the hurley, death itself awakes?
Can't thou, O partial Sleep, give thy repofe
To the wet fea-boy in an hour fo rude?
And in the calmeft and the ftillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king? Then, happy low! lie down :
Uneafy lies the head that wears a crown.
Henry IV. Part II. A.
Boy! Lucius faft afleep? it is no matter;
Enjoy the honey heavy dew of flumber :
Thou haft no figures, nor no fantasies,
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