A thousand times more fair; ten thousand times More rich; that, to ftand high in your account, I might in virtues, beauties, living, 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, fhe is not yet so old
But he may learn; more happy then in this, She is not bred fo dull but the can learn ; Happiest of all, is, that her gentle fpirit 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. 2.
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 fmooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling commodity, Commodity, the bias of the world,
The world, which of itself is poised well, Made to run even, upon even ground: Till this advantage, this vile drawing bias, This fway of motion, this commodity, Makes it take head from all indifferency, From all direction, purpose, course, intent.
Self-love is not fo vile a fin As felf-neglecting.
To die is to be banish'd, from myself; : And Silvia is myfelf: banish'd from her, Is self from felf; a deadly banishment!;
What light is light, if Silvia be not feen? What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by, Unless it be to think that she is by, And feed upon the fhadow 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 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..
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 general fubjects to a well-wish'd king Quit their own part, and in obfequious fondness Crowd to his prefence, where their untaught love Muft needs appear offence.
Meafure for Measure, A. 2. Sc. 1.
It is the curfe of kings, to be attended
By flaves that take their humours for a warrant, To break into the bloody house 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 greatest of my pride is, to fee my ewes graze, and my lambs fuck. As You Like It, A. 3.
SHEPHERD'S LIFE.
O God! methinks it were a happy life To be no better than a homely fwain To fit upon a hill, as I do now;
To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to fee the minutes how they run, How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the days How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live. When this is known, then to divide the time; So many hours must I tend my flock;
So many hours must I take my reft; So many hours muft I contemplate; So many hours must I fport myself; So many days my ewes have been with So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean; So many months ere I fhall fheer the fleece: So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years Paft over, to the end they were created, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. Ah! what a life were this! how fweet, how lovely! Gives not the hawthorn bufh a fweeter fhade To fhepherds looking on their filly sheep, Than doth a rich-embroider'd canopy To kings, that fear their fubjects' treachery? O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth. And to conclude, the fhepherd's homely curds, His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, His wonted fleep under a fresh tree's fhade, All which fecure and fweetly he enjoys, Is far beyond a prince's delicates, His viands fparkling in a golden cup, His body couched on a curious bed,
When care, miftrust, and treasons wait on him.
Henry VI, Part III. A. 2. Sc. 6.
SHEPHERD'S PHILOSOPHY.
I know, the more one fickens, the worse at eafe 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 pafture makes fat fheep; and that a great caufe 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. As You Like It, A. 3. Sc. 3.
Infirmity doth ftill neglect all office,
Whereto our health is bound: we are not ourfelves When nature, being opprefs'd, commands the mind To fuffer with the body.
I was not much afraid; for once or twice I was about to speak, and tell him plainly, The felf-fame fun, that fhines upon his court, Hides not his visage from our cottage, but Looks on alike.
The Winter's Tale, A. 4. Sc. 3.
For ever hous'd, 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 ftates, Maids, matrons-nay, the fecrets of the
This viperous flander enters. Cymbeline, A. 3. Sc. 4. For haply flander,
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 woundlefs air.
Do not omit the heavy offer of it: It feldom visits forrow; when it doth, It is a comforter.
The Tempest, A. 2. Sc. 1.
Boy! Lucius! faft afleep? It is no matter; Enjoy the honey heavy dew of flumber : Thou haft no figures, nor no fantasies, Which bufy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore, thou fleep'it fo found.
Julius Cæfar, A. z. Sc. 1.
SOLICITATION.
Think with thyself,
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither; fince thy fight, which fhould Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts, Conftrains them weep, and shake with fear and forrow; Making the mother, wife, and child, to see The fon, the husband, and the father tearing His country's bowels out. And to poor we Thine enmity 's most capital; and thou barr'st us Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort That all but we enjoy: for how can we,
Alas! how can we for our country pray, Whereto we 're bound, together with thy victory, Whereto we 're bound? Alack! or we must lofe The country, our dear nurfe; or else thy perfon, Our comfort in the country. We muft find An eminent calamity, though we had
Our wish, which fide should win: for either thou Muft, as a foreign recreant, be led
With manacles thorough our ftreet; or elfe Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin, And bear the palm for having bravely shed Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, fon, I purpose not to wait on fortune, till
Thefe wars determine. If I can't perfuade thee Rather to fhew a noble grace to both parts Than feek the end of one; thou shalt no fooner March to affault thy country, than to tread
(Truft to't, thou shalt not) on thy mother's womb, That brought thee to this world. Coriolanus, A. 5. Sc. 3.
O, my good Lord, why are you thus alone ? For what offence have I this fortnight been A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed?
Tell me, fweet lord, what is't that takes from thee Thy ftomach, pleasure, and thy golden fleep? Why dost thou bend thy eyes upon the earth, And start so often, when thou fitt'ft alone? Why haft thou loft the fresh blood of thy cheeks,
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