So fhall the leave her bleffedness to one,
When heav'n fhall call her from this cloud of darkness,
Who from the facred afhes of her honour
Shall ftar-like rife, as great in fame as the was,
And fo ftand fix'd. Peace, Plenty, Love, Truth, Terror,
That were the fervants to this chofen infant,
Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him:
Wherever the bright fun of heav'n fhall shine,
His honour and the greatnefs of his name
Shall be, and make new nations. He fhall flourish,
And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches
To all the plains about him: children's children
Shall fee this, and bless heav'n.
King Henry VIII. A. 5. Sc. 4
P R I D E.
-Pride hath no other glass
To fhew itself but pride: for fupple knees
Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees.
Troilus and Crefida, A. 3. Sc. 7.
PRODIGIE S.
In the moft high and palmy ftate of Rome,
A little ere the mightieft Julius fell,
The graves flood tenantlefs; and the sheeted dead
Did fqueak and gibber in the Roman streets:
Stars fhone with trains of fire, dews of blood fell;
Difafters veil'd the fun; and the moift ftar,
Upon whofe influence Neptune's empire ftands,
Was fick almoft to doouis-day with eclipfe :
And even the like precurfe of fierce events,
As harbingers preceding ftill the fates,
And prologue to the omen'd coming on,
Have heav'n and earth together demonftrated
Unto our climatures and country-men.
Makes thee the happier. Heavens deal fo ftill!
Let the fuperfluous, and luft-dieted man,
'That flaves your ordinance, that will not fee
Because he does not feel, feel your power quickly:
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full difgrace. Beft of my flesh,
Forgive my tyranny; but do not say,
For that, forgive our Romans.-O, a kiss
Long as my exile, fweet as my revenge!
Now, by the jealous queen of heav'n, that kifs
I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip
Hath virgin'd it e'er fince.-Ye Gods, I prate;
And the moft noble mother of the world
Leave unfaluted: fink my knees i' th' earth;
Of thy deep duty more impreffion fhew
Than that of common fons.
you ftol'n upon us thus? You come not. Like Cafar's fifter; the wife of Antony Should have an army for an ufher, and The neighs of horse to tell of her approach, Long ere fhe did appear: the trees by th' way Should have borne nien, and expectation fainted, Longing for what it had not: nay, the duft Should have afcended to the roof of heav'n, Rais'd by your populous troops. But you are come A market-maid to Rome, and have prevented The oftentation of our love; which, left unfhewn, Is often left anlov'd: we should have met you By fea and land, fupplying every stage
With an augmented greeting,
Antony and Cleopatra, A. 3. Sc. 5.
RESENTMENT.
Let it be fo; thy truth then be thy dower:
For by the facred radiance of the fun,
The myfteries of Hecate, and the night,
By all the operations of the orbs,
From whom we do exift, and ceafe to be,
Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
Propinquity and property of blood.
And as a ftranger to my heart and me
Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barb'rous Scythian,
Or he that makes his generation meffes
Το gorge his appetite, fhall to my bofom
Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and reliev'd,
As, thou, my fometime daughter.
RESOLUTION.
How poor an inftrument
May do a noble deed! He brings me liberty.
My refolution's plac'd, and I have nothing
Of woman in me: now from head to foot
I'm marble conftant; now the fleeting moon
No planet is of mine.
Antony and Cleopatra, A. 5. Sc. 5.
Sweet, roufe yourfelf: and the weak wanton Cupid
Shall from your neck unloofe his am'rous fold,
And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
Troilus and Creffida, A. 3. Sc. 8.
O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower;
Or chain me to fome fteepy mountain's top,
Where roaring bears and favage lions roam;
Or fhut me nightly in a charnel-house,
O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
With reeky fhanks, and yellow chapless fculls;
Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his fhroud;
(Things that to hear them nani'd have made me tremble)
And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live an unftain'd wife to my fweet love.
Romeo and Juliet, A. 4. Sc. 1.
R E SPEC T.
I afk, that I might waken reverence,
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush,
Modeft as morning, when the coldly eyes.
The youthful Phabus..
Troilus and Creffida, A. 1. Sc. 6.
REVENGE.
Cafar's fpirit ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his fide come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice,
Cry Havock! and let flip the dogs of war.
Lo, by thy fide where Rape, and Murder, ftands;
Now give fome 'furance that thou art Revenge,
Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot-wheels;
And then I'll come and be thy waggoner,
And whirl along with thee about the globe;
Provide two proper Palfries black as jet,
To hale thy vengeful waggon fwift away,
And find out murders in their guilty caves;
And when thy car is loaden with their heads,
I will difmount, and by thy waggon-wheel
Trot like a fervile footman all day long;
Even from Hyperion's rifing in the east,
Until his very downfall in the fea.
And day by day I'll do this heavy task,
So thou deftroy Rapine and Murder there.
Titus Andronicus, A. 5. Sc. A
RICHARD III. CHARACTER.
Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;
Thy fchool-days frightful, defp'rate, wild and furious Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold and venturous; Thy age confirm'd, proud, fubile, fly and bloody. King Richard III. A.
RING IN A DARK PIT.
Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious ring, that lightens all the hole;
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth fhine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks;
And fhews the ragged entrails of this pit.
Titus Andronicus, A. 2. Sc. 7.
RISING PASSION.
I prythee, daughter, do not make me mad
I will not trouble thee. My child, farewel;
We'll no more meet, no more fee one another.
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter,
Or rather a difeafe that's in my flesh,
Which I must needs call mine; thou art a bile,
A plague-fore, or imboffed carbuncle,
In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee.
Let fhame come when it will, I do not call it;
I do not bid the Thunder-bearer fhoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove.
Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure.
I can be patient, I can ftay with Regan;
I, and my hundred knights. King Lear, A. 2. Sc. 12.
How fweet a thing it is to wear a crown ;
Within whofe circuit is Elyfium,
And all that poets feign of blifs and joy.
Henry VI. Part III. A. 1. Sc. 4.
Princes have but their titles for their glories,
An outward honour, for an inward toil;
And, for unfelt imaginations,
They often feel a world of restless cares:
So that between their titles and low name,
There's nothing differs but the outward fame.
King Richard III. A. 2. Sc. 5.
O God! methinks it were a happy life
To be no better than a homely fwain;
To fit upon a hill, as I do now;
To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,
Thereby to fee the minutes how they run,
How many make the hour full complete,
How many hours bring about the day,
How many days will finish up the year,
How many years a mortal man may live.
When this is known, then to divide the time
So many hours muft I tend my flock;
So many hours must I take my reft ;
So many hours muft I contemplate;
So many hours muft I sport myself;
So many days my ewes have been with young;
So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean;
So many months ere I fhall fheer the fleece :
So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years,
Paft over, to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
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