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Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak;
Lay open to my earthy gross conceit, Sinother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, The folded meaning of your words' deceit. Against my soul's pure truth why labour To make it wander in an unknown field? you a god? would you create me new ? Transform me, then, and to your power I'll yield.
COMEDY OF ERRORS, A. 3, s. 2.
ADMIRATION OF BEAUTY.
WHAT! are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes
To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop
CYMBELINE, A. 1, s. 7.
O! LET me clip you
In arms as sound, as when I woo'd; in heart As merry, as when our nuptial day was done, And tapers burn'd to bedward.
CORIOLANUS, a. 1, s. 6.
AGE AND WISDOM PAYING TRIBUTE TO HEROISM.
NESTOR. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft,
Labouring for destiny, make cruel way
Through ranks of Greekish youth: and I have seen thee,
As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,
Not letting it decline on the declined;
And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath,
But, by great Mars, the captain of us all,
Never like thee: Let an old man embrace thee; And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents. ENEAS. 'Tis the old Nestor.
HECTOR. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle,
That hast so long walk'd hand in hand with time:
Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee.
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA, A. 4, s. 5.
AGE DISCOVERING THE CANKER
SHE hath abated me of half my train;
Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart:-
All the stor❜d vengeances of heaven fall
On her ungrateful top! Strike her young bones,
You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
KING LEAR, A. 2, s. 4.
AGE GUIDING YOUTH.
When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
HAMLET, A. 1, s. 3.
AGONY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. AY, so, God be wi' you:-Now I am alone. what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
Is it not monstrous, that this player here,
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 passion, That I have? He would drown the stage with tears,
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech; Make mad the guilty, and appal the free, Confound the ignorant; and amaze, indeed, faculties of eyes and ears.
The very Yet I,
A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,
As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this?
Why, I should take it: for it cannot be,
Why, what an ass am I!
This is most brave; That I, the son of a dear father murder'd, Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, And fall a cursing, like a very drab,
Fye upon't! foh! About my brain! Humph!
That guilty creatures, sitting at a play,
For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players
Play something like the murder of my father,
HAMLET, A. 2, s. 2.
ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS.
PORTIA. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover
The several caskets to this noble prince :-
MOROCCO. The first, of gold, who this inscription bears ;
Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire. The second, silver, which this promise carries ;Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves. This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt;