The story of that baleful burning night,
When subtle Greeks surpriz'd king Priam's
Troy;

Tell us, what Sinon hath bewitched our ears,
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in,
That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.-
My heart is not compact of flint, nor steel;
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,

But floods of tears will drown my oratory,
And break my very utterance; even i'the time
When it should move you to attend me most,
Lending your kind commiseration.

TITUS ANDRONICUS, A. 5, s. 3.

BANISHMENT CONTENTED.

YOUR will be done; this must my comfort be,That sun, that warms you here, shall shine on me; And those his golden beams, to you here lent, Shall point on me, and gild my banishment.

K. RICHARD II., A. 1, s. 3.

BANISHMENT NOT CONTENT.

A HEAVY sentence, my most sovereign liege,
And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth:
A dearer merit, not so deep a maim
As to be cast forth in the common air,
Have I deserved at your highness' hand.
The language I have learn'd these forty years,
My native English, now I must forego:
And now my tongue's use is to me no more
Than an unstringed viol, or a harp;
Or like a cunning instrument cas'd up,

Or, being open, put into his hands

That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue,
Doubly portcullis'd, with my teeth, and lips;
And dull, unfeeling, barren ignorance
Is made my gaoler to attend on me.
I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,
Too far in years to be a pupil now;

What is thy sentence, then, but speechless death,

Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath?

Then thus I turn me from my country's light, To dwell in solemn shades of endless night.

K. RICHARD II., A. 1, s. 3.

BATTERY OF AN ELDERLY SINNER.

THOU art violently carried away from grace: there is a devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man: a tun of man is thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swoln parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years! Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? wherein crafty, but in villainy ? wherein villainous, but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing?

K. HENRY IV., PART I., A. 2, s. 4.

BEAR AND FORBEAR.

You undergo too strict a paradox,
Striving to make an ugly deed look fair:

Your words have took such pains, as if they labour'd

To bring manslaughter into form, set quarrelling
Upon the head of valour; which, indeed,
Is valour misbegot, and came into the world
When sects and factions were newly born:
He's truly valiant, that can wisely suffer

The worst that man can breathe; and make his

wrongs

His outsides; wear them like his raiment, carelessly;

And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,
To bring it into danger.

If wrongs be evils, and enforce us kill,
What folly 'tis, to hazard life for ill?
You cannot make gross sins look clear;
To revenge is no valour, but to bear.

TIMON OF ATHENS, A. 3, s. 5.

BEAUTY AND GOODNESS IN
SORROW.

SHE took them, read them in my presence;
And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
Her delicate cheek: it seem'd, she was a queen
Over her passion; who, most rebel-like,
Sought to be the king o'er her.

Patience and sorrow strove

Who should express her goodliest. You have

seen

Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears

Were like a better day: Those happy smiles, That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,

As pearls from diamonds dropp'd.—In brief,

sorrow

Would be a rarity most belov'd, if all

Could so become it.

Once, or twice, she heav'd the name of father
Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart;
Cried, Sisters! sisters!-Shame of ladies! sisters!
Kent! father! sisters! What i'the storm? i'the
night?

Let pity not be believ'd!-There she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes,

And clamour moisten'd:-then away she started
To deal with grief alone.

It is the stars,

The stars above us, govern our conditions;
Else one self mate and mate could not beget
Such different issues.

KING LEAR, A. 4, s. 3.

BEAUTY AND VIRTUE'S ANGER
WITH UGLINESS AND SIN.

WHAT, do you tremble? are you all afraid?
Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal,
And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.-
Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!

Thou had'st but power over his mortal body,
His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone.
Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us
not;

For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,

Fill'd it with cursing cries, and deep exclaims.
If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,
Behold this pattern of thy butcheries:
O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds
Open their congeal'd mouths, and bleed afresh!
Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity;
For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood
From cold and empty veins, where no blood
dwells;

Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural,

Provokes this deluge most unnatural.

O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death! O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his death!

Either, heaven, with lightning strike the murderer dead,

Or, earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick; As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood, Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered!

K. RICHARD III., A. 1, s. 2.

BEAUTY AND VIRTUE INDIGNANT
AT MAN'S BASENESS.

AWAY!-I do condemn mine ears, that have
So long attended thee.-If thou wert honourable,
Thou would'st have told this tale for virtue, not
For such an end thou seek'st; as base, as strange.
Thou wrong'st a gentleman, who is as far
From thy report, as thou from honour; and
Solicit'st here a lady, that disdains

Thee and the devil alike.-What ho! Pisanio!-
The king my father shall be made acquainted
Of thy assault: if he shall think it fit,
A saucy stranger, in his court, to mart