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What though not bid to knightly

halls ? Those halls have missed a courtly

guest; That mansion is not privileged,

Which is not open to the best. Give honor due when custom asks,

Nor wrangle for this lesser claim; It is not to be destitute, To have the thing without the


It's no in titles or in rank;
It's no in wealth like Lon'on bank,

To purchase peace and rest;
It's no in makin' muckle mair;
It's no in books; it's no in lear

To make us truly blest:
If happiness hae not her seat

And centre in the breast,
We may be wise, or rich, or great,

But never can be blest:
Nae treasures, nor pleasures,

Could make us happy lang;
The heart ay's the part ay,
That makes us right or


Then dost thou come of gentle blood,

Disgrace not thy good company; If lowly born, so bear thyself That gentle blood may come of


Strive not with pain to scale the

height Of some fair garden's petty wall, But climb the open mountain side, Whose summit rises over all.

E. S. H.


BETTER trust all, and be deceived, And weep that trust and that deceiv

ing, Than doubt one heart that if be

lieved Had blessed one's life with true



Oh! in this mocking world too fast The doubting fiend o'ertakes our

youth; Better be cheated to the last Than lose the blessed hope of truth.


Ulysses. — Time hath, my lord, a

wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingrati

tudes : Those scraps are good deeds past:

which are devoured As fast as they are made, forgot as


Since things in motion sooner catch

the eye, Than what not stirs. The cry went

once on thee And still it might; and yet it inay

again, If thou wouldst not entomb thyself

alive, And case thy reputation in thy tent; Whose glorious deeds, but in these

fields of late, Made emulous missions 'mongst the

gods themselves, And drave great Mars to faction.




As done: Perseverance, dear my

lord, Keeps honor bright: to have done is

to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty

mail In monumental mockery. Take the

instant way; For honor travels in a strait so nar

row, Where one but goes abreast: keep

then the path; For emulation hath a thousand sons, That one by one pursue: if you give

way, Or hedge aside from the direct forth

right, Like to an entered tide they all rush

by, And leave you hindmost;Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first

rank, Lie there for pavement to the abject

rear, O'er-run and trampled on: then

what they do in present, Though less than yours in past, must

o'ertop yours: For Time is like a fashionable host, That slightly shakes his parting

guest by the hand; And with his arms outstretched, as

he would fly, Grasps in the comer: Welcome ever

smiles, And farewell goes out sighing. O,

let not virtue seek Remuneration for the thing it was; For beauty, wit, High birth, vigor of bone, desert in

service, Love, friendship, charity, are sub

jects all To envious and calumniating Time. One touch of nature makes the whole

world kin, That all, with one consent, praise

new-born gawds, Though they are made and moulded

of things past; And give to dust, that is a little gilt, More laud than gilt o’er-dusted. The present eye praises the present

object: Then marvel not, thou great and

complete man, That all the Greeks begin to worship


Antony. — Say to me, Whose fortunes shall rise higher;

Cæsar's, or mine? Soothsayer. — Cæsar's. Therefore, () Antony, stay not by

his side: Thy daemoi), that's thy spirit which

keeps thee, is Noble, courageous, high, unmatcha

ble, Where Caesar's is not; but near him,

thy angel Becomes a Fear, as being o'er

powered; therefore
Make space enough between you.

Ant. — Speak this no more.
Soothsayer. – To none but thee;

no more, but when to thee. If thou dost play with him at any

game, Thou art sure to lose; and of that

natural luck, He beats thee 'gainst the odds; thy

lustre thickens, When he shines by: I say again, thy

spirit Is all afraid to govern thee near him; But, he away, 'tis noble.

Ant. - Get thee gone: Say to Ventidius, I would speak with


(Erit Soothsayer.) He shall to Parthia. — Be it art, or

hap, He hath spoken true: the very dice

obey him; And, in our sports, my better cun

ning faints

Under his chance: if we draw lots,

he peeds: Ilis cocks do win the battles still of

mine, When it is all to nought; and his

quails ever Beat mine, inhooped at odils.


Unlawful ever. ( be wiser, Thou! Instructed that true knowledge leads

to love; True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward

thought, Can still sll-pect, and still revere

himself. In lowliness of heart.




BE thou blest, Bertram! and succeed

thy father In manners, as in shape! thy blood,

and virtue, Contend for empire in thee; and thy

goodness Share with thy birthright! Love

all; trust a few; Do wrong to none: be able for thine

enemy Rather in power, than use; and keep

thy friend Under thy own life's key: be checked

for silence But never taxed for speech. What

heaven more will, That thee may furnish, and my

pravers pluck down, Fall on thy head!

All's Ilell that Ends Well.

HEAVEN doth with us as we with

torches do, Not light them for themselves; for if

our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all

alike As if we had them not. Spirits are

not finely touched But to fine issues: nor Nature nerer

lends The smallest scruple of her excel

lence, But, like a thrifty goddess, she deter

mines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use.

SILAKSPEARE: Measure for Measure.


The flighty purpose never is o'ertook Unless the deed go with it: from

this moment, The very firstlings of my heart shall

be The firstlings of my hand.



IF thou be one whose heart the holy

forms Of young imagination have kept

pure, Stranger! henceforth be warned; and

know that pride, Howe'er disguised in its own majesIs littleness; that he who feels con

tempt For any living thing hath faculties Which he has never used; that

thought with him Is in its infancy. The man whose

eye Is ever on himself doth look on one The least of Nature's works, one

who might move The wise man to that scorn which

wisdom holds

To be furious Is to be frighted out of fear; and, in

that mood, The dove will peck the ostrich ; and

I see still A diminution in our captain's brain Restores his heart. When valur

preys on reason, It eats the sword it fights with.

SHAKSPEARE: Antony and Cleopatra.


Enobarbus. — Mine honesty and I

begin to square, The loyalty, well held to fools, does

make Our faith mere folly;

Yet, he that can endure To follow with allegiance a fallen

lord, Does conquer him that did his mas

ter conquer, And earns a place in the story.


We must not stint Our necessary actions in the fear To cope malicious censurers; which

ever, As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow That is new trimmed; but benefit no

farther Than vainly longing. What we oft

do best, By sick interpreters,once weakones, is Not ours, or not allowed; what

worse, as oft, Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up For our best act. If we shall stand

still, In fear our motion will be mocked or

carped at, We should take root here where we

sit, or sit State statues only.



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Irais. — Royal Egypt ! Empress,
Cleopatra. – No more, but e'en a

woman; and commanded By such poor passion as the maid

that milks, And does the meanest chores. It

were for me To throw my sceptre at the injurious

gods, To tell them that this world did equal

theirs, Till they had stolen our jewel. Then is it sin To rush into the secret house of

death Ere death dare come to us? Our lamp is spent, it's out. Good

sirs, take heart: We'll bury him: and then, what's

brave, what's noble, Let's do it after the high Roman

fashion, And make death proud to take us.

Come away, The case of that huge Spirit now is



RASHLY,And praised be rashness for it. -Let

us know Our indiscretion sometime serves us

well, When our deep plots do pall: and

that should teach us There's a Divinity that shapes our

ends, Rough-hew them how we will.



If this great world of joy and pain
Revolve in one sure track,
If Freedom, set, will rise again,
And Virtue flown, come back;
Woe to the purblind crew who fill
The heart with each day's care,
Nor gain from Past or Future, skill
To bear and to forbear.


My desolation does begin to make
A better life. Tis paltry to be Cie-

sar: Not being Fortune, he's but For

tune's knave, A minister of her will. And it is

great To do that thing that ends all other

deeds, Which shackles accidents, and bolts

up change; Which sleeps, and never palates more

the dung, The beggar's nurse and Cæsar's.


OUR revels now are ended : these our

actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits,


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