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GARLANDS FOR MIDDLE
Here's flowers for you;
PS AN A S
Hot lavender, mint, favoury, marjoram ;
The marygold that goes to bed with th' sun,
And with him rifes, weeping: Thefe are flowers
Of middle summer, and I think they are given
To men of middle age.
GARLANDS FOR YOUTH.
Now, my fairest friend,
I would I had fome flowers o' th' fpring, that might
Become your time of day; and yours, and yours
That wear upon your virgin branches yet
Your maidenheads growing; O Proferpina,
For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall
From Dis's waggon! daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim,
But fweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primrofes,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his ftrength (a malady
Moft incident to maids ;) bold ox-lips, and
The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The fleur-de-lis being one, O, these I lack
To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend
To ftrew him o'er and o'er.
Glory is like a circle in the water;
Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself,
GIFTS FROM A LOVER.
Sooth, when I was young,
And handed love as you do, I was wont
To load my fhe with knacks: I would have ransack'd
The pedlar's filken treasury, and have pour'd it
To her acceptance; you have let him go,
And nothing marted with him. If your lafs
Interpretation fhould abuse, and call this
Your lack of love or bounty; you were ftraited
For a reply, at least, if you make care
Of happy holding her.
Till, by broad fpreading, it disperse to nought.
King Henry VI. Part I. A. 1. Sc. 6.
Which buys admittance, oft it doth; yea, makes
Diana's rangers, falfe themfelves, yield up
Their deer to th' ftand o' th' stealer: and 'tis gold,
Which makes the true man kill'd, and faves the thief:
Nay fometimes, hangs both thief and true man. What
Can it not do, and undo?
Cymbeline, A. 2. Sc. 4.
How quickly Nature
Falls to revolt when gold becomes her object!
For this the foolish over-careful fathers
Have broke their fleep with thought, their brains with care,
Their bones with induftry; for this engroffed
The canker'd heaps of frange-atchieved gold;
For this they have been thoughtful to invest
Their fons with arts, and martial exercifes:
When, like the bee culling of every flower,
Our thighs are pack'd with wax, our mouths with honey,
We bring it to the hive; and, like the bees,
Are murder'd for our pains.
Henry IV. Part II. A. 4. Sc. z.
That light we fee is burning in my hall;
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So fhines a good deed in a naughty world.
The Merchant of Venice, A. 5. Sc. 1.
A GOOD HEART.
A fpeaker is but a prater, a rhyme is but a ballad ;---a good leg will fall, a ftraight back will ftoop, a black beard will turn white, a curl'd pate will grow bald, a fair face will wither, a full eye will wax hollow ;---but a good heart, Kate, is the fun and the moon, or rather the fun and not the moon; for it fhines bright, and never changes, but keeps his courfe truly.
Henry V. A. 5. Sc. 2.
That man i' th' world who fhall report he has
A better wife, let him in nought be trusted,
For fpeaking false in that. Thou art alone,
If thy rare qualities, fweet gentleness,
Thy meeknefs faint-like, wife-like government,
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
Sov'reign and pious elfe, could speak thee out,
The queen of earthly queens. She's noble born;
And, like her true nobility, the has
Carried herself towards me.
King Henry VIII. A. 2. Sc. 7.
I have five hundred crowns,
The thrifty hire I fav'd under your father,
Which I did ftore to be my fofter nurse
When service should in my old limbs lie lame,
And unregarded age in corners thrown.
Take that; and he that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the fparrow,
Be comfort to my age: here is the gold;
All this I give you, let me be your fervant.
As You Like It, A. z. Sc. 3.
Let never day or night unhallow'd pafs,
But ftill remember what the Lord hath done.
King Henry VI. Part II. A. 2. Sc. z.
There are a fort of men, whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond;
And do a wilful ftilnefs entertain,
With purpose to be dreft in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who fhould fay, I am Sir Oracle,
And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
O, my Anthonio, I do know of thofe
That therefore only are reputed wife
For faying nothing; who, I'm very fure,
If they fhould fpeak, would almost damn thofe ears,
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools.
The Merchant of Venice, A 1. Sc. 1,
Great men have reaching hands: oft have I ftruck
Thofe that I never faw-and ftruck them dead.
Henry VI. Part II. A. 4. Sc. 7. "Tis certain, Greatnefs once fall'n out with Fortune, Muft fall out with men too: What the decline is, He fhall as foon read in the eyes of others, As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies, Shew not their mealy wings but to the fummer; And not a man, for being fimply man, Hath any honour, but honour by those honours That are without him, as place, riches, favour, Prizes of accident as oft as merit,
Which, when they fall (as being flippery standers),
The love that lean'd on them, as flippery too,
Doth one pluck down another, and together
Die in the fall.
Troilus and Creffida, A. 3. Sc. 7.
The foul and body rive not more in parting
Than greatness going off.
Ant. and Cleop. A. 4. Sc. 9.
The Grecian youths are full of fubtle quality;
They 're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of Nature
Flowing, and fwelling o'er with arts and exercife.
How novelties may move, and parts with person!
Alas! a kind of godly jealoufy,
Which I beseech you call a virtuous fin,
Makes me afraid.
Troilus and Creffida, A. 4. Sc. 6.
Like the lily
That once was mistress of the field, and flourish'd,
I'll hang my head and perish.
King Henry VIII. A. 3. Sc. 1. I pray thee ceafe thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless As water in a fieve; give not me counsel, Nor let no comforter delight mine ear, But fuch a one whose wrongs do fuit with mine.. Bring me a father that fo lov'd his child, Whofe joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,
And bid him speak of patience;
Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine,
And let it answer every strain for ftrain,
As thus for thus, and fuch a grief for such,
In every lineament, branch, fhape, and form;
If fuch a one will fmile, and ftroke his beard,
And forrow wag; cry hem! when he should groan;
Patch grief with proverbs; make misfortune drunk
With candle-wafters; bring him yet to me,
And I of him will gather patience.
Much Ado about Nothing, A. 5. Sc. 1.
I will inftruct my forrows to be proud;
For grief is proud, and makes his owner ftout.
To me, and to the ftate of my great grief,
Let kings affemble; for my grief's so great
That no fupporter but the huge firm earth
an hold it up: here I and forrow fit:
Here is my throne; bid kings come bow to it.
Grief fills the room up of my abfent child;
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
Then have I reafon to be fond of grief.
Fare you well; had you fuch lofs as I,
I could give better comfort than you do. Ibid. A. 3. Sc. 3.
Each fubftance of a grief hath twenty fhadows,
Which fhew like grief itself, but are not so:
For Sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
Divides one thing entire to many objects;
Like perfpectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon,
Shew nothing but confufion; eyed awry,
King Richard II. A. 2. Sc. 2.
Seems, Madam! nay it is; I know not feems:
not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor cuftomary fuits of folemn black,
Nor windy fufpiration of forc'd breath,
No, nor the fruitful River ja the eye,