577 578 579 BLINDNESS HAPPINESS of blindness! now no beauty inflames my lust; no others' good, my envy; or misery, my pity; no man's wealth draws my respect; nor poverty, my scorn; yet still I see enough! man to himself is a large prospect, rais'd above the level of his low creeping thoughts; if then I have a world within myself, that world shall be my empire; there I'll reign, commanding freely, and willingly obey'd, secure from fear of foreign forces, or domestick treasons, and hold a monarchy more free, more absolute than in my father's seat; and looking down with scorn, or pity, on the slippery state of kings, will tread upon the neck of fate. AY SIR J. DENHAM TRUE LOVE EVER CROSSED LYSANDER Y me! for aught that ever I could read, the course of true love never did run smooth: but, either it was different in blood; or else misgrafféd in respect of years; or else it stood upon the choice of friends; or, if there was a sympathy in choice, war, death, or sickness did lay siege to it; swift as a shadow, short as any dream; brief as the lightning in the collied night, that, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, W. SHAKESPEARE CONSOLATION OF DEATH EATH is unwelcome never, DEATH unless it be to tortured minds and sick souls that make their own hells; it is such a benefit when it comes crowned with honour, shows so sweet too! 580 though they paint it ugly, that's but to restrain us, fly boldly to their peace ere Nature call'd 'em : the earth as light upon him, and the flowers PORTENTS SERAPION LAST between the temple while I walked, AST night, between the hours of twelve and one, .a whirlwind rose, that with a violent blast where the long race of Ptolemies is laid, cried, 'Egypt is no more.' My blood ran back, J. DRYDEN 581 PRINCE HENRY'S PATHETIC SPEECH ON the DEATH OF HOTSPUR RAVE Percy, fare thee well, great heart!— BRAVE Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk! when that this body did contain a spirit, a kingdom for it was too small a bound; is room enough:-this earth that bears thee dead F. S. JII 9 582 bears not alive so stout a gentleman. If thou wert sensible of courtesy, I should not make so dear a show of zeal: : but let my favours hide thy mangled face; but not remember'd in thy epitaph! W. SHAKESPEARE ANTONY'S LAMENT OVER CESAR MIGHTY Cæsar! dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, shrunk to this little measure?-Fare thee well.- who else must be let blood, who else is rank: as Cæsar's death's hour; nor no instrument of half that worth, as those your swords, made rich with the most noble blood of all this world. I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, I shall not find myself so apt to die: no place will please me so, no mean of death, the choice and master spirits of this age. W. SHAKESPEARE 583 CESAR ON receiving news of Antony's DEATH I HAVE followed thee to this ;-But we do lance diseases in our bodies: I must perforce have shown to thee such a declining day, or look on thine; we could not stall together in the whole world: but yet let me lament, with tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts, that thou, my brother, my competitor in top of all design, my mate in empire, friend and companion in the front of war, the arm of mine own body, and the heart where mine his thoughts did kindle,-that our stars unreconciliable, should divide our equalness to this.-Hear me, good friends,- W. SHAKESPEARE 584 VIRGINIUS SPEECH TO HIS DAUGHTER BEFORE HE KILLS HER AREWELL, my sweet Virginia: never, never I had in thee. Let me forget the thought of glittering steel hung 'bout his arméd neck when I first taught thee how to go, to speak; to bring my girl asleep. O my Virginia, J. WEBSTER 585 DESPAIRING SOLILOQUY OF the king of deNMARK HEN I'll look up; THE my fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer can serve my turn? Forgive me my foul murder! that cannot be; since I am still possess'd of those effects for which I did the murder,— 586 to give in evidence. What then? what rests? W. SHAKESPEARE THE DUKE TO CLAUDIO E absolute for death; either death or life life: if I do lose thee, I do lose a thing with that none but fools would keep: a breath thou art, that do this habitation, where thou keep'st, and yet runn'st toward him still. Thou art not noble; valiant ; Thou art by no means for thou dost fear the soft and tender fork of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep, and that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st 587 thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself; for thou exist'st on many a thousand grains that issue out of dust. Happy thou art not; for, like an ass whose back with ingots bows, Thou hast nor youth nor age; but, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich, W. SHAKESPEARE |