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THE FATALITY OF LOVE WHEN DISPROPORTIONED.

IF I do prove her haggard, Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,

I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind, To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black; And have not those soft parts of conversation That chamberers have: Or, for I am declin'd Into the vale of years;-yet that's not much;She's gone; I am abus'd; and my relief

Must be to loath her. O curse of marriage, That we can call these delicate creatures ours, And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,

And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,

Than keep a corner in the thing I love,

For others' uses. Yet 'tis the plague of great

ones;

Prerogativ'd are they less than the base;

'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death;

Even then this forked plague is fated to us,
When we do quicken.

OTHELLO, A. 3, s. 3.

THE FICKLENESS OF PUBLIC

OPINION.

LET us on;

And publish the occasion of our arms.

The commonwealth is sick of their own choice,
Their over-greedy love hath surfeited :—
An habitation giddy and unsure

Hath he, that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
O thou fond many! with what loud applause

Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Boling

broke,

Before he was what thou would'st have him be?
And being now trimm'd in thine own desires,
Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him,
That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up,
So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge
Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;
And now thou would'st eat thy dead vomit up,
And howl'st to find it? What trust is in these

times ?

They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him die,

Are now become enamour'd on his grave:

Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head,
When through proud London he came sighing on
After the admired heels of Bolingbroke,
Cry'st now, O earth, yield us that king again,
And take thou this! O thoughts of men accurst!
Past, and to come, seem best; things present,
worst.

K. HENRY IV., PART II., a. 1, s. 3.

THEY LOSE THE WORLD THAT BUY IT WITH MUCH CARE.

GRATIANO. You look not well, signior Antonio ;

You have too much respect upon the world:
They lose it, that do buy it with much care.
Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd.
ANTONIO. I hold the world but as the world,
Gratiano;

A stage, where every man must play a part,
And mine a sad one.

GRA.

Let me play the fool:

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come;
And let my liver rather heat with wine,
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster ?

Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice,

By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio,-
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks ;-
There are a sort of men, whose visages

Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond;
And do a wilful stillness entertain,
With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who should say, I am Sir Oracle,
And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
O, my Antonio, I do know of these,
That therefore only are reputed wise,
For saying nothing; who, I am very sure,
If they should speak, would almost damn those

ears,

Which, hearing them, would call their brothers,

fools.

I'll tell thee more of this another time:
But fish not, with this melancholy bait,
For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.-
Come, good Lorenzo:-Fare ye well, a while;
I'll end my exhortation after dinner.

MERCHANT OF VENICE, A. 1, s. 1.

THE FOREDOOMED.

K. HENRY. My lord of Gloster, 'tis my special

hope,

That you will clear yourself from all suspects; My conscience tells me, you are innocent. GLOSTER. Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous!

Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition,

And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand;
Foul subornation is predominant,

And equity exíl'd your highness' land.
I know, their complot is to have my life;
And, if my death might make this island happy,
And prove the period of their tyranny,
I would expend it with all willingness:
But mine is made the prologue to their play;
For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril,
Will not conclude their plotted tragedy.
Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's
malice,

And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate;
Sharp Buckingham unburdens with his tongue
The envious load that lies upon his heart;
And dogged York, that reaches at the moon,
Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back,
By false accuse doth level at my life:-
And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest,
Causeless have laid disgraces on my head;
And, with your best endeavour, have stirr❜d up
My liefest liege to be mine enemy:-
Ay, all of you have laid your heads together;
Myself had notice of your conventicles,
And all to make away my guiltless life:

I shall not want false witness to condemn me,
Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt;
The ancient proverb will be well affected,-
A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.
Ah, thus king Henry throws away his crutch,
Before his legs be firm to bear his body:

Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side, And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first.

Ah, that my fear were false! ah, that it were! For, good king Henry, thy decay I fear.

K. HENRY VI., PART II., A. 3, s. 1.

THE FRIEND'S PLEDGE.

A KINDER gentleman treads not the earth.
I saw Bassanio and Antonio part:
Bassanio told him, he would make some speed
Of his return; he answer'd-Do not so,
Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio,
But stay the very riping of the time;
And for the Jew's bond, which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind of love:
Be merry; and employ your chiefest thoughts
To courtship, and such fair ostents of love
As shall conveniently become you there:
And even there, his eye being big with tears,
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,
And with affection wondrous sensible

He wrung Bassanio's hand, and so they parted.
I think, he only loves the world for him.

I

pray thee, let us go, and find him out, And quicken his embraced heaviness

With some delight or other.

MERCHANT OF VENICE, A. 2, s. 8.

THE FRIEND'S LAST REQUEST. O GOD!-Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!

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