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And given my treasures, and my rights of thee,
To thick-eyed mufing, and curit melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers, I by thee have watch’d,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars;
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;
Cry, Courage! To the field and thou hast talk'd
Ot rallies and retires; of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets;
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,
Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain,
And all the current of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow,
Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream:
And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
Such as we fee when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden haste. O, what portents are these
Some heavy business hath my Lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves ine not.
Henry IV. Part I. A. 2. Scy
How use doth breed a habit in a man!
This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
I better brook than flourishing peopled towns.
Here can I sit alone, unseen of any,
And to the nightingale's complaining notes
Tune my distresses, and record my woes.
The Two Gentlemen of Verona, A. 5. Sc.
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court ?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The seasons' difference; as the icy fang,
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind;
Which when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,
*This is no flattery; these are counsellors,
That feelingly persuade me what I am.
As You Like It, A. 2. Sc.
Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and mak'tt me an,
that my Lord Northumberland
Should be the father of so bleft a son ;
A son who is the theme of Honour's tongue;
Amongst a grove the very straightest plant;
Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride:
Whilft I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and dishonour stain the brow
of my young Harry. O, could it be prov'd
That some night-tripping fairy had exchangid,
In cradle-clothes, our children where they lay,
And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet ;
Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
Henry IV. Part I. A, 1. Sc. í.
Oh! if thou teach me to believe this sorrow,
Teach thou this forrow how to make me die;
And let belief and life encounter so,
"As doth the fury of two desperate men
Which in the very meeting fall and die.
Fellow, be gone! I cannot brook thy fight :
This news hath made thee a most ugly man.
King John, A. $. Scie.
Sorrow breaks seasons, and reposing hours ;
Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night.
Richard 111. A. I. Sc. fi
--Nobly he yokes
A smiling with a fighi as if the figh
Was that it was, for not being such smile;
The smile mocking the figh, that it would fly
From so divine a temple, to commix
With winds that failors rail at. Cymbeline, A. 4. Sc. .
-Patience and forrow Itrove
Who should express her goodlieft. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her (iniles and tears
Were like a better day. Those happy tiniles
That play'd on her ripe lip, feem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes, which partca thence
As pearls from diamonds dropt. In brief, sorrow
Would be a rarity most belov'd, if all
Could so become it.
Lear, A. 4. Sc. 3 Give sorrow words; the grief that doth not speak Whispers the o’er-fraught heart, and bids it break.
Macbeth, A. 4. Sc. 6. When forrows come, they come not single spies, But in battalions.
Hamlet, A. 4. Sc. 5 SPECULATION AND PRACTICE. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes palaces. He is a good divine that follows his own instructions ; I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than to be one of the twenty to follow
my teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree ; such a hare is Madness the youth, to kip o'er the meshes of Good Counsel the cripple!
The Merchant of Venice, A. 1. Sc. 2. When daisies pied, and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver white,
And cuckow-buds of yellow hue,
Do paint the meadows with delight;
The cuckow then on ev'ry tree
Mocks married men ; for thus fings he,
Cuckow ! cuckow ! cuckow ! O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are plowmen's clocks; When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws; And maidens bleach their summer smocks; The cuckow then, &c.
Love's Labour Loft, A. 5. Sc. 2.
-Oh! thus she stood
Even with such life of majesty (warm life,
As now it coldly stands) when first I woo'd her.
I am alham'd-does not the stone rebuke me,
For being more stone than it? Oh, royal piece!
There's magic in thy majesty, which has
My evils conjur'd to remembrance ; and
From my admiring daughter took the spirits,
Standing like stone with thee. Winter's Tale, A. 5. Sc. 3-
I pray thee peace : I will be flesh and blood;
For there was never yet philosopher
That could endure the tooth-ach patiently,
However they have writ the style of Gods,
And made a pilh at chance and sufferance.
Much Ado about Nothing, A. 5. Sc. 1.
- Jova's lightnings, the precursors Of dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary And sight-outrurining were not; the fire and cracks Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, Yea, his dread trident shake. The Tempeft, A. 1. Sc. 2.
STORM DESCRIBED BY A CLOWN. I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, how it takes up the shore! But that's not to the point. Oh, the most piteous cry of the poor souls! sometimes to see 'em, and not to see 'em; now the ship boring the moon with her main-mast, and anon swallow'd with yest and froth, as you'd thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the land-service to see how the bear tore out his shoulder-bone ; how he cried to me for help, and said his name was Antigonus, a nobleman. But to make an end of the ship ; to see how the sea flip-dragon'd it. But firit, how the poor fouls roar'd, and the fea mock'd them; and how the poor gentleman roar'd, and the bear mock'd him: both roaring louder than the sea or weather.
The Winter's Tale, A. 3. Sc. 4,
The night has been unruly: where we lay,
Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say,
Lamentings heard i'th' air ; ftrange screams of death,
And prophesying, with accents terrible,
Of dire combustion, and confus'd events,
New-hatch'd to the wocful time: the obscure bird
Clamour'd the live-long night: fome say, the earth
Was feverous, and did fake. Macbeth, A. 2. Sc.
The current that with gentle murmur glides,
Thou know’lt, being stopp’d, impatiently doth rage:
But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with th' enameli'd stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
lle overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
And so by many winding nooks he strays,
Fith willing sport, to the wild ocean.
The Two Gentlemen of Verona, A. 2. St. ,
Study is like the heaven's glorious fun,
That will not be deep-search'd with faucy looks;
Small have continual plodders ever won,
Save bare authority from others books.
These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, That give a name to every fixed star,
Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than those that walk, and wot not what they are.
Love's Labour Loft, A. 1. SC. I.
God is much displeased
That with unthankfulness you take his doing.
In common worldly things 'tis called ungrateful
With dull unwillingness to pay a debt,
Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent;
Much more to be thus oppofite with heaven,
For it requires the royal debt it lent you.
King Richard III. A. 2. Sc.2.
If the deed were ill,
-Be you contented, wearing now the garland,
To have a son set your decrees at nought;
Fo pluck down juftice from your awful bench;