Two of the firft, like coats in heraldry,
Due but to one, and crowned with one creft.
And will you rend our ancient love afunder,
To join with men in fcorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly;
Our fex, as well as I, may chide you
Though I alone do feel the injury.
A Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 3. Sc. 1.
I was too young that time to value her;
But now I know her: if fhe be a traitor,
Why fo am I we still have flept together,
Rofe at an inftant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;
And wherefoe'er we went, like Juno's fwans,
Still we went coupled and infeparable.
As You Like It, A. 1. Sc. 3
PERFECTION.
If lufty Love fhould go in queft of beauty,
Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch?
If zealous Love fhould go in fearch of virtue,
Where fhould he find it purer than in Blanch?
If Love ambitious fought a match of birth,
Whofe veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanch?
Such as fhe is, in beauty, virtue, birth,
Is the young Dauphin, every way complete,
FICK LENESS O F THE
An habitation giddy and unfure
Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
O thou fond many! with what loud applaufe
Did'st thou beat heaven with bleffing Bolingbroke,
Before he was what thou wouldst have him be!
And now, being trimm'd up in thy own defires,
Thou, beaftly feeder, art fo full of him,
That thou provok'st thyself to caft him up.
Henry IV, Part II. A. 2. Sc. 6.
O, what a rogue and peasant flave am I!
Is it not monstrous that this Player here,
D 4
But in a fiction, in a dream of paffion,
Could force his foul fo to his own conceit,
That, from her working, all his vifage wan'd:
Tears in his eyes, diftraction in his afpect,
A broken voice, and his whole function fuiting,
With forms to his conceit ? and all for nothing?
For Hecuba?
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her? What would he do,
Had he the motive and the cue for paffion
That I have? He would drown the ftage with tears,
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech,
Make mad the guilty, and appal the free;
Confound the ignorant, and amaze, indeed,
The very faculty of ears and eyes.
A dull and muddy-mettled rafcal, peak,
Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my caufe,
And can fay nothing. No, not for a king,
Upon whofe property and moft dear life
A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward?
Who calls me villain, breaks my pate across,
Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?
Tweaks me by th' nofe, gives me the lye i' th' throat,
As deep as to the lungs ? who does me this?
Yet I fhould take it-for it cannot be,
But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gall,
To make oppreffion bitter: or, ere this,
I fhould have fatted all the region kites
With this flave's offal. Bloody, bawdy villain!
Remorfelefs, treacherous, letcherous, kindless villain !
Why, what an afs am I! This is most brave,
That I, the fon of a dear father murder'd,
Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,
Muft, like a whore, unpack my heart with words,
And fall a curfing, like a very drab,
A fcullion. Fy upon't! foh,
About, my brain! I've heard,
That guilty creatures, fitting at a play,
Have, by the very cunning of the scene,
Been ftruck fo to the foul, that presently
They have proclaim'd their malefactions;
For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
With moft miraculous organ. I'll have these players
Play fomething like the murder of my father,
Before mine uncle. I'll obferve his looks;
I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench,
I know my courfe. This spirit, that I have seen,
May be the devil; and the devil hath power
To affume a pleafing fhape; yea, and perhaps,
Out of my weakness and my melancholy,
As he is very potent with such spirits,
Abuses me to damn me. I'll have grounds
More relative than this: the play's the thing,
Wherein I'll catch the confcience of the king.
If you fufpect my husbandry, or falsehood,
Call me before the exacteft auditors,
And fet me on the proof. So the Gods blefs me,
When all our offices have been opprest
With riotous feeders; when our vaults have wept
With drunken fpilth of wine; when every room
Hath blaz'd with lights, and bray'd with minftrelfy;
I have retir'd me to a wasteful cock,
And fet mine eyes at flow. Timon of Athens, A 2. Sc. 4,
Thefe crouchings, and thefe lowly courtefies,.
Might fire the blood of ordinary men,
And turn pre-ordinance and first decree
Into the lane of children. Be not fond
To think that Cæfar bears fuch rebel blood,
That will be thaw'd from the true quality
With that which melteth fools; I mean, fweet words,
Low-crooked curt'fies, and bafe fpaniel fawning.
Thy brother, by decree, is banish'd:
If thou dost bend, and pray, and fawn for him,
Tfpurn thee, like a cur, out of my way.
Know Cefar doth not wrong, nor without caufe
Will he be fatisfied
Julius Cæfar, A. 3. Sc. 1.
Such fmiling rogues as thefe,
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain,
Too intrinficate t' unloofe; foothe every paffion
That in the nature of their lords rebels;
Bring oil to fire, fnow to their colder moods,
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale and vary of their masters;
Knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
Thofe eyes of thine from mine have drawn falt fears,
Sham'd their afpects with ftore of childish drops;
Thefe eyes, which never fhed remorfeful tear,
Not when my father York and Edward wept,
To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made,
When black-fac'd Clifford fhook his sword at him :
Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,
Told the fad ftory of my father's death,
And twenty times made paufe to fob and weep,
That all the flanders by had wet their cheeks,
Like trees bedath'd with rain; in that fad time,
My manly eyes did fcorn an humble tear;
And what thefe forrows could not thence exhale,
Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
I never fued to friend, nor enemy;
My tongue could never learn fweet smoothing words;
But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee,
My proud heart fues, and prompts my tongue to fpeak.
King Richard III. A. î. Sc. 2.
Ha! Goneril!-With a white beard?-They flattered me like a dog, and told me I had white hairs in my beard, ere the black ones were there. To fay Ay, and No, to every thing that I faid--Ay and No too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found 'em, there I fmelt them out. Go to, they are not men o' their words; they told me I was every thing; 'tis a lye, I am not ague-proof.
FLEET SETTING SAIL.
Suppofe that you have seen
The well-appointed king at Hampton Pier
Embark his royalty, and his brave fleet
With filken ftreamers, the young Phœbus fanning,
Play with your fancies; and in them behold,
Upon the hempen tackle, fhip-boys climbing;
Hear the fhrill whistle, which doth order give
To founds confus'd; behold the threaden fails,
Borne with th' invifible and creeping wind,
Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd fea,
Breafting the lofty furge. King Henry V. A. 3. Sc. 1.
I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows,
Where ox-lip and the nodding violet grows,
O'er-canopied with lufcious wood-bine,
With fweet musk-rofes, and with eglantine:
There fleeps Titania, fome time of the night,
Lull'd in thefe flowers with dances and delight:
And there the fnake throws her enamel'd skin,
Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.
A Midsummer Night's Dream, A. 2. S. 2.
If thou, that bid'ft me be content, wert grim,
Ugly, and fland'rous to thy mother's womb,
Full of unpleafing blots, and fightlefs ftains,
Lame, foolish, crooked, fwart, prodigious,
Patch'd with foul moles, and eye-offending marks,
I would not care, I then would be content;
For then I fhould not love thee: no, nor thou
Become thy great birth, nor deferve a crown.
But thou art fair; and at thy birth, dear boy!
Nature and fortune join'd to make thee great.
Of Nature's gifts thou may'ft with lilies boaft,
And with the half-blown rofe. King John, A. 3. Sc. 1.
FOOL- - HARDINESS.
Being scarce made up,
I mean, to man, he had not apprehenfion
Of roaring terrors; for th' effect of judgment
Is oft the cause of fear.
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