Some mark of virtue on its outward parts. How many cowards, whose hearts are all as falle As ftairs of fand, wear yet upon their chins The beards of Hercules, and frowning Mars; Who, inward fearch'd, have livers white as milk? And these affume but valour's excrement, To render them redoubted. Look on beauty, And you fhall fee, 'tis purchas'd by the weight, Which therein works a miracle in nature, Making them lightest, that wear most of it. So are those crifped, fnaky, golden locks, Which make fuch wanton gambols with the wind Upon fuppofed fairness, often known
To be the dowry of a fecond head,
The skull that bred them, in the fepulchre. Thus ornament is but the guiled fhore
To a moft dangerous fea; the beauteous scarf Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,
The feeming truth which cunning times put on T'entrap the wifeft.
S all the council that we two have shar'd,
Is all council that were that we have (pent,
When we have chid the hafty-footed time For parting us: O! and is all forgot?
All fchool-days friendship, childhood innocence?
We, Hermia, like two artificial gods
Created with our needles both one flower,Babaft sto be A Both on one fampler, fitting on one cushion; thou Both warbling of one fong, both in one key; As if our hands, our fides, voices and minds Had been incorp'rate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, feeming parted, But yet an union in partition. 20
MODEST DUTY always acceptable.av
HERE I have come, great clerks have purpofed Το greet me with premeditated welcomes; Where I have feen them fhiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of fentences, Throttle their practis'd accents in their fears, And, in conclufion, dumbly have broke off, Not paying me a welcome; truft me, sweet, Out of this filence yet I pick'd a welcome: And in the modefty of fearful duty
I read as much as from the rattling tongue Of faucy and audacious eloquence.
YOUTHFUL INNOCENCE. Labin [SHAKESPEARE.
Two lads, that thought there was no more behind, But fuch a day to-morrow as to-day,
We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frifk i'th' fun, And bleat the one at th' other: what we chang'd,
Was innocence f for innocence; we
The doctrine of ill-doing: no, nor dream'd,
That any did: had we purfu'd that life,
And our weak fpirits ne'er had been higher rear'd With ftronger blood, we fhould have anfwer'd heav'n Boldly, not guilty.
Part of the KING's defpairing SOLILOQUY in [SHAKESPEARE.]
N the corrupted currents of this world, Offence's gilded hand may fhove by juftice; And oft 'tis feen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law: but 'tis not fo above;cnt There is no fhuffling, there the action lies In its true nature, we ourfelves compell❜d, Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, To give in evidence. What then? what refts? Try what repentance can; what can it not? Yet what can it, when one cannot repent? O, wretched ftate! O bofom black as death faol O, limed foul! that, fruggling to be free, Art more engag'd! Help, angels, make aflay; Bow, ftubborn knees; and heart, with ftrings of fteel, Be foft as finews of the new-born babeber All, may be well.
HEALTH.
[SHAKESPEARE.]
IVE me the cup,
And let the kettle to the trumpets speak The trumpets to the cannoneer without,
The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth Now the king drinks to Hamlet.
REFLECTIONS on on a CROWN. [SHAKESPEARE.]
Polish'd perturbation! golden care!
That keep ft the ports of lumber open'd wide To many a watchful night: fleep with it now! Yet not fo found, and half fo deeply fweet, As he, whose brow with homely biggen bound, Snores out the watch of night. O majefty! When thou doft pinch thy bearer, thou doft fit Like a rich armour, worn in heat of day, That fcalds with fafety.
The MISERIES of ROYALTY. [SHAKESPEARE.]
Hard condition, and twin-born with greatness, Subject to breath of ev'ry fool, whole fenfe No more can feel but his own wringing. What infinite heart-ease must kings neglect, That private men enjoy? And what have kings, That private have not too,-fave ceremony?- Save gen'ral ceremony?
And what art thou, thou idle ceremony ? What kind of god art thou, that fuffer'ft more. Of mortal griefs, than do thy worshippers? What are thy rents? What are thy comings in? O ceremony, fhew me but thy worth:
What is the foul of adoration?
Art thou aught elfe but place, degree, and form, Creating awe and fear in other men?
Wherein thou art lefs happy, being fear'd,
Than they in fearing. What drink it thou oft, But poifon'd flatt'ry? O
instead of homage fweet, be fick, great greatnefs, N 2
And bid thy ceremony give the cure. Think'ft thou, the fiery fever will go out With titles blown from adulation?
Will it give place to flexure and low bending? Can't thou, when thou command'ft the beggar's knee, Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream, That play'ft fo fubtly with a king's repofe. I am a king, that find thee, and I know, an 'Tis not the balm, the fceptre, and the ball, The fword, the mace, the crown imperial, The enter-tiflued robe of gold and pearl, The farfed titled running 'fore the king, The throne he fits on, nor the tide of pomp That beats upon the high fhoar of this world No, not all thefe thrice gorgeous ceremonies, Not all thefe, laid in bed majestical,
Can fleep fo foundly as the wretched flave; deh Who, with a body fill'd, and vacant mind,
Gets him to reft, cramm'd with diftrefsful bread, Never fees horrid night, the child of hell: But, like a lacquey, from the rife to fet, Sweats in the eye of Phoebus; and all night Sleeps in Elyfium: next day, after dawn, Doth rife and help Hyperion to his Horfe: And follows fo the ever running year With profitable labour to his grave: And but for ceremony) fuch a wretch, do
of Bojded Winding up days with toil, and nights with fleep, om Hath the fore-hand and vantage of a kingdal sv
The MISERIES of WAR.
ER vine, the merry chearer of the heart, eldre
H'Unpruned lies, her hedges even pleach'dance o
Like prifoners, wildly overgrown with hair, Put forth diforder'd twigs her fallow leas The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory, Doth root upon; while that the culture rufts, That fhould deracinate fuch favagery
The even mead, that erft brought fweetly forth The freckled cowflip, burnet, and green clover,a med k Wanting the fcythe, all uncorrected, rank, b 14 Conceives by idleness; and nothing teems, mojoj
But hateful docks, rough thiftles, keckfies, burs, Lofing both beauty and utility:
And all our vineyards, fallows, meads and hedges, Defective in their natures, grow to wildness.
HAT ftronger breaft-plate than a heart untainted? Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his quarrel juft;
And he but naked (though lock'd up in steel) Whofe confcience with injuftice is corrupted.
ADVICE. eds [SHAKESPEARE.]
E thou. bleft, Bertram, and fucceed thy father,,
Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness Share with thy birth-right! Love all; truft a few; Do wrong to none; be able for thine
enemy Rather in power than ufe; and keep thy friend Under thy own life's key: be check'd for filence; But never tax'd for speech.
HONOUR due to perfonal MERIT, not to BIRTH.
ROM loweft place when virtuous things proceed, The place is dignified by th' doer's deed,
Where great additions fwell, and virtues none,
It is a dropfied honour; good alone
Is good without a name; vileness is fo; The property, by what it is, fhou'd go, Not by the title. She is young, wife, fair; In thefe, to nature he's immediate heir; And these breed honour; That is honour's fcorn, Which challenges itself as honour's born, And is not like the fire... Honours beft thrive, And is not
Than our foregoers: the mere word's a flave Debaucht on every tomb, on every grave; A lying trophy.
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