The wound of peace is furety,
Surety fecure; but modest doubt is call'd
The beacon of the wife; the tent that searches
To th' bottom of the worft.
Troilus and Creffida, A. 4. Sc. 31.
And dizzy 'tis to caft one's eyes fo low!
The crows and choughs, that wing the mid-way air,,
Shew scarce fo grofs as beetles: half-way down
Hangs one that gathers famphire, dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head:
The fishermen that walk upon the beach
Appear like mice and yon tall anchoring bark,
Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy
Almost too small for fight: the murmuring furge,
That on th' unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes,
Cannot be heard fo high. I'll look no more,
Left my brain turn, and the deficient fight
Tapple down headlong!:
King Lear, A. 4. Sc..6...
O, then I fee Queen Mab has been with you,
She is the fairies midwife; and fhe comes,
In fhape no bigger than an agate ftone
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men's nofes as they lie afleep:
Her waggon-fpokes made of long spinners legs;
The cover, of the wings of grafshoppers;
The traces, of the smallest spider's web;
The collars, of the moonshine's wat❜ry beams;
Her. whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;;
Her waggoner, a fmali grey-coated gnat,
Not half fo big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid:
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,
Made by the joiner fquirrel, or old grub,
Time out of mind the fairies coach-makers.
And in this ftate fhe gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
On courtiers knees that dream on curt'fies ftraight;
O'er lawyers fingers, who ftraight dream on fees:
O'er ladies lips, who ftraight on kiffes dream;
Which oft the angry Mab with blifters plagues,
Because their breaths with fweetmeats tainted are.
Sometimes the gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
And then dreams he of fmelling out a fuit:
And fometimes comes she with a tythe-pig's tail
Tickling a parfon's nofe as he lies afleep;
Then dreams he of another's benefice:
Sometimes fhe driveth o'er a foldier's neck;
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes;
And being thus frighted, fwears a prayer or two,
And fleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plats the manes of horfes in the night,
And cakes the elf-lock in foul fluttish hairs,
Which once entangled much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That preffes them, and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage;
Thus I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain phantafy;
Which is as thin of fubftance as the air;
And more inconftant than the wind, who wooes
Even now the frozen bofom of the North,
And being anger'd puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping South.
Romeo and Juliet, A. 1. Sc. 4.
They were red-hot with drinking;
So full of valour, that they fmote the air
For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
For kiffing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor,
At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd their ears,
Advanc'd their eye-lids, lifted up their noses,
As they smelt mufic.
The Tempeft, A. 4. Sc. I.
Drunk! and fpeak, parrot? and fquabble? fwagger? fwear? and difcourfe fuftian with one's own fhadow? O, thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou haft no name to be known by, let us call thee Devil!
O that men fhould put an enemy in their mouths, to fteal away their brains! That we fhould with joy, revel, pleasure, and applaufe, transform ourselves into beafts! Othella, A. 2. Sc. 3.
Your words have took fuch pains, as if they labour'd
To bring manflaughter into form, fet quarrelling
Upon the head of Valour; which, indeed,
Is valour misbegot, and came into the world
When fects and factions were but newly born:
He's truly valiant, that can wifely fuffer
The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs
His outfides; to 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!
Timon of Athens, A. 3. Sc. 5.
Pray now, no more. My mother,
Who has a charter to extol her blood,
When she does praife me, grieves me.
I've done as you have done; that's what I'can;
Induc'd as you have been; that's for my country.
He that has but effected his good-will
Coriolanus, A. 1. Sc. 11.
He fmil'd me in the face, gave me his hand,
And with a feeble gripe, fays, "Dear, my Lord, * Commend my service to my fovereign.”
So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck
He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips;
And, fo efpous'd to death, with blood he feal'd
A teftament of noble-ending love.
The pretty and fweet manner of it forc'd
Thofe waters from me, which I would have stopp'd;
But I had not fo much of man in me,
But all my mother came into mine eyes,
And gave me up to tears. King Henry V. A. 4. Sc. 12.
INJUNCTIONS.
-They fay, the tongues of dying men
Inforce attention, like deep harmony:
Where words are fcarce, they're feldom fpent in vain ;
For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in pain.
He that no more muft fay, is liften'd more
Than they whom youth and eafe have taught to glofe;
More are men's ends mark'd, than their lives before:
The fetting fun-and mufic in the close.
As the lait taste of sweets is sweetest laft,
Writ in remembrance more than things long past.
King Richard II. A. 2. Sc. 1.
This morning, like the spirit of a youth
That means to be of note, begins by times.
Antony and Cleopatra, A. 4. Sc. 1a
EMBARRASSMENT.
Where I have come, great clerks have purpofed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes !
Where I have feen them fhiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practis'd accent 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.
Love, therefore, and tongue-tied fimplicity,
In least, speaks moft to my capacity,
A Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 5. Sc. 1.
-That pale, that white-fac'd fhore,
Whofe foot fpurns back the ocean's roaring tides,
And coops from other lands her iflanders;
E'en till that England, hedg'd in with the main,
That water-walled bulwark, ftill fecure
And confident from foreign purposes-
E'en till that utmost corner of the weft,
Salute thee for her king.
This England never did, nor never fhall,
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,
But when it first did help to wound itself.
Now these her princes are come home again,
Come the three corners of the world in arms,
And we fhall fhock them!-Nought shall make us rue,
If England to itself do reft but true.
King John, A. 5. Sc. 7.
This royal throne of kings, this fcepter'd ifle,
This earth of majefty, this feat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-Paradife,
This fortrefs built by Nature for herself,
Against infection, and the hand of war;
This precious ftone fet in the filver fea,
Which ferves it in the office of a wall,,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of lefs happier lands;
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
Fear'd for their breed, and famous by their birth,
Renowned for their deeds as far from home,
For chriftian fervice and true chivalry,
As is the fepulchre in ftubborn Jewry
Of the world's ranfom, bleffed Mary's fon;
This land of fuch dear fouls, this dear, dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leas'd out (I die pronouncing it)
Like to a tenement or pelting farm.
England, bound in with the triumphant fea,
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