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Under my burthen groan'd); which rais'd in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up.
Against what thould ensue. The Tempeft, A. 1. Sc. 2

I have mark'd
A thousand blushing apparitions
To start into her face; a thousand innocent flames
In angel whiteness bear away those blushes;
And in her eye there hath appear'd a fire,
To burn the errors that these princeshold.
Against her maiden truth. Call me a fool;
Trust not my reading, nor my observations,
Which with experimental seal doth warrant
The tenour of my book; trust not my age,
My reverence, calling, nor divinity,
If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here,
Under some biting error.

Much Ado about Nothing, A. 4. Se no
Since what I am to say must be but that
Which contradicts my accusation; and
The testimony on my part no other
But what comes from myself; it shall scarce boot me
To say, Not guilty : mine integrity,
Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it;
Be so receiv'd. But thus, if powers

Behold our human actions, as they do,
I doubt not then but Innocence: thall make
False Accufation blush, and Zyranny
Tremble at Patience:-You, my Lord, best know,
Who least will seem to do so, my past life
Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,
As I am now unhappy; which is more
Than history can pattern, though devis'd
And play'd to take spectators. For behold me
A fellow of the royal bed, which owe
A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter,
The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing
To prate and talk for life and honour, 'fore
Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it
As I weigh grief which I would fpare: for honour,
Tis a derivative from me to mine,


And only that I stand for. I appeal
To your own conscience, Sir, before Polixene's
Came to your court, how I was in your grace,
How merited to be so ; fince he came,
With what encounter so uncurrent I
Have strain'd tappear thus; if one jot beyond
The bounds of honour, or in act, or will
That way inclining, harden'd be the hearts
Of all that hear me, and my nearest of kin
Cry, Fie! upon my grave.

The Winter's Tale, A. 3. Sc. 2. The silence often of


innocence Persuades when speaking fails.

Ibid. A. 2. Sc. 2.
We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frisk i’ th' fun,
And bleat the one at th other : what we chang’d,,
Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing ; no, nor dream'd

any did: had we pursued that life,
And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd
With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven
Boldly, Not guilty; th' imposition clear'd
Hereditary ours.

Ibid. A. I. Sc. 2.
False to his bed! what is it to be false?
To lie in watch there, and to think on him?

'twixt clock and clock? if sleep charge nature To break it with a fearful dream of him, And cry myself awake? That's false to 's bed! is 't?

Cymbeline, A. 3. Sc. 4.

There is a kind of character in thy life,
That to th' observer doth thy history
Fully unfold; thyself and thy belongings
Are not thine own so proper, as to waste
Thyself upon thy virtues; they on thee.
Heav'n doth with us, as we with torches do,
Not light them for themfelves: for if our virtues
Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike
As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd,
But to fine issues: nor Nature never lends


The smallest scruple of her excellence,
But, like a thrifty goddess she determines
Herself the glory of a creditor,
Both thanks and use. Measure for Measure, A. 1. Sc. 1.


Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny: it hath been
The untimely emptying of the happy throne,
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what is yours : you may
Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,

We have willing dames enough; there cannot be
That vulture in you to devour so many
As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
Finding it to inclin'd.

Macbeth, A. 4. Sc. 3,

. 3: IN V E CTIV E. I call'd thee then vain flourish of my fortune, I callid thee then poor shadow, painted queen, The presentation of but what I was ; The fatt’ring index of a direful page ; One heav'd on high, to be hurl'd down below : A mother only mock'd with two fair babes ; A dream of what thou wast; a garish flag, To be the aim of ev'ry dangerous fhot; A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble; A queen in jeft, only to fill the scene. Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers ? Where be thy children? wherein doft thou joy? Who sues and kneels, and says, God save the queen? Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee? Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee? Decline all this, and see what now thou art: For happy wife, a most distressed widow; For joyful mother, one that wails the name ; For one being sued to, one that humbly sues ; For queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care; For one that fcorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me; For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one; For one commanding all, obey'd of none.


hus hath the course of justice wheeld about,
nd left thee but a very prey to time;
aving no more but thought of what thou wert,
'o torture thee the more, being what thou art.

King Richard III. A. 4. Sc. 4.


INVITATION TO LOVE. 'hè birds chaunt melody on every 'he snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun; 'he green leaves quiver with the cooling wind, nd make a chequer'd shadow on the ground. nder their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, nd whilst the babbling Echo mocks the hounds, eplying Thrilly to the well-tun'd horns, s if a double hunt were heard at once, et us fit down, and mark their yelling noise : ind after conflict, such as was suppos’a "he wandering prince and Dido once enjoy'd, Vhen with a happy storm they were surpris'd, nd curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave; Ve may, each wreathed in the other's arms, Our pastimes done) possess a golden slumber; Vhilft hounds and horns, and sweet melodious birds, e unto us as is a nurse's song Of lullaby, to bring her babe asleep.

Titus Andronicus, A. 2. Sc. 4.

INVOCATION. ) for a muse of fire, that would ascend Che brightest heaven of invention !

kingdom for a stage, princes to act ind monarchs to behold the swelling scene ! Chen should the warlike Harry, like hi.nself, Issume the


of Mars; and, at his heels, eath'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire, Crouch for employment.

King Henry V. Prol. The raven himself is hoarse, Chat croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits Chat tend on mortal thoughts, unfex me here; And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top full

Of direft cruelty! Make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse;
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it ! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring minifters,
Wherever in your fightless fubstances
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunneft smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes :
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry, Hold! Hold!

Macbeth, A. 1. Sc. 5,

I see men's judgments are A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward Do draw the inward quality after them, To suffer all alike. Antony and Cleopatra, A. 3. Sc. II.

Remember March-the ides of March remember!
Did not great Julius bleed for justice fake?
What villain touch'd his body, that did ftab,
And not for justice? What shall one of us,
That struck the foremost man of all this world,
But for supporting robbers ; fhall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes,
And sell the mighty space of our large honours,
For so much trash, as may be grasped thus ?
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Than such a Roman.

Julius Cæfar, A. 4. Sc. 3:

I not deny The jury, passing on the prisoner's life, May, in the sworn twelve, have a thief or two, Guiltier than him they try. What's open, made to justice, That justice seizes on. What know the laws, That thieves do pass on thieves?' 'Tis very pregnant. The jewel that we find, we ftoop and take ?t, Because we see it; but what we do not see, Wa tread

upon, and never think of it. You may not fo extenuate his offence,


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