Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak; Lay open to my earthy gross conceit, Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, The folded meaning of your words' deceit. Against my soul's pure truth why labour you, 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. Are 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. AFFECTION. 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. 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 WORM. 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. I KNOW, 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. O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That from her working, all his visage wann'd; Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting 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, And cleave the general ear with horrid speech; 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; A scullion! Fye upon't! foh! I have heard, 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;— |