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Lady Percy. Then should you be nothing but musical;
For you are altogether governed by humours.

Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh.

Hotspur. I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish.
Lady Percy. Wouldst thou have thy head broken?

Hotspur. No.

Lady Percy. Then be still.-1 H. IV., iii. 1.

Excellently the above serves to show the by-play of Hotspur's characteristic restlessness; which here takes the form of half impudent conjugal caress, half impatient military petulance at the music.

Northumberland. How doth my son and brother?
Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek
Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,

So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone,

Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night,

And would have told him, half his Troy was burn'd . .

I see a strange confession in thine eye:

Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it fear, or sin,

To speak a truth.- —2 H. IV., i. I.

Clarence. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble.

First Murderer. My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own.
Clarence. How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak !

Your eyes do menace me: why look you pale ?

Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come ?—R. III., i. 4. King Richard. . . . My lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?—Ibid., v. 3. Capulet. . . . How now! a conduit, girl? What, still in tears?

Evermore showering? . . . Out, you green-sickness

Carrion! out, you baggage! you tallow-face !—R. & Jul., iii. 5.
Balthasar. I do beseech you, sir, have patience;

Your looks are pale and wild, and do import

Some misadventure.-Ibid., v. 1.

Lady Macbeth. . . . Your face, my thane, is as a book where men

May read strange matters: to beguile the time,

Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,

Your hand, your tongue; look like the innocent flower,

But be the serpent under it. . . . Only look up clear;

To alter favour ever is to fear.-Macb., i. 5.

Lennox. Here, my good lord. What is 't that moves your highness?—Ibid, iii. 4

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Macbeth. Pr'ythee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say you?

Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.

Thou hast no speculation in those eyes

Which thou dost glare with !—Ibid., iii. 4.

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What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;

Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak

Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.-Ibid., iv. 3.

Macbeth. . . . The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon!
Where got'st thou that goose look?

Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,

Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch?

Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine

Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face ?—Ibid., v. 3

Othello. . . . And didst contract and purse thy brow together.
As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain

Some horrible conceit.-Oth., iii. 3.

Iago. I see, this hath a little dash'd your spirits. . .
but, I do see you are mov'd.—Ibid., iii. 3.

Desdemona. Alas, the heavy day! Why do you weep?
Am I the occasion of these tears, my lord?-Ibid., iv. 2.

Iago. Do not weep, do not weep: alas, the day!—Ibid., iv. 2.

Iago. What, look you pale?

Look you pale, mistress?

Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon. . . .

What, do you shake at that?

Bianca. He supp'd at my house; but I therefore shake not.—Ibid., v. 1.
Desdemona. And yet I fear you; for you are fatal then,

When your eyes roll so. . . .

Alas! why gnaw you so your nether lip?

Some bloody passion shakes your very frame.-Ibid., v. 2.

Emilia. Nay, lay thee down and roar;

For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent,

That e'er did lift up eye.-Ibid., v. 2.

Gratiano. Fie! your sword upon a woman!—Ibid., v. 2.

Othello. Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench!

Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt,

This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven.—Ibid., v. 2.
Pisanio. Madam, a noble gentleman from Rome,

Comes from my lord with letters.

Iachimo.

The worthy Leonatus is in safety,

Change you, madam ?

Thou weep'st and speak'st.

And greets your highness dearly.—Cym., i. 7.

Cymbeline.

The service that you three have done is more

Unlike than this thou tell'st.—Ibid., v. 5.

"

Marina. I said, my lord, if you did but know my parentage, you would not do me violence.-Per., v. I.

--

Others denote look or gesture in the person spoken of :

Countess. Her eye is sick on 't: I observe her now.-All's W., i. 3.

Maria. He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner.

He is, sure, possessed, madam.

Olivia. Why what's the matter? does he rave?

Maria. No, madam, he does nothing but smile.-Tw. N., iii. 4.

Paulina. Music, awake her; strike!

'Tis time; descend; be stone no more; approach;

Strike all that look upon with marvel

You perceive, she stirs.
Nay, present your hand:

When she was young, you woo'd her; now,

Is she become the suitor. . .

Polixenes. She embraces him.

in age,

Camillo. She hangs about his neck.-W. T., v. 3.

Falstaff. . . . That thou art my son, have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion; but chiefly, a villanous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me.—1 H. IV., ii. 4.

Northumberland. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf,

Foretells the nature of a tragic volume:

So looks the strond, whereon th' imperious flood

Hath left a witness'd usurpation.—2 H. IV., i. 1.

Lady Percy. . . . And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,

Became the accents of the valiant.-Ibid., ii. 3.

Falstaff. Carry Master Silence to bed.-Ibid., v. 3.

Catesby. The king is angry: see, he gnaws his lip.-R. III., iv. 2.

King Richard. Saw'st thou the melancholy lord Northumberland?-Ibid., v. 3.
Agamennon. Is not yond' Diomed, with Calchas' daughter?

Ulysses. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait;

He rises on the toe: that spirit of his

In aspiration lifts him from the earth.-Tr. & Cr., iv. 5.
Brutus. I will do so: but, look you, Cassius,

The angry spot doth glow on Cæsar's brow,
And all the rest look like a chidden train:
Calphurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero
Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes,
As we have seen him in the Capitol,

Being cross'd in conference by some senators.—Jul. C., i. 2.
Cæsar. ... Yond' Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.

Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort

As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit

That could be mov'd to smile at any thing.—Ibid., i. 2.
Othello. Look, how he laughs already!

Now he denies it faintly, and laughs it out.
Now he importunes him to tell it o'er.

So, so, so, so: they laugh that win.

Iago beckons me; now he begins the story.-Oth., iv. 1.

Iago. .. Do you perceive the gastness of her eye?..

Behold her well; I pray you, look upon her:

Do you see, gentlemen? nay, guiltiness will speak

Though tongues were out of use.-Oth., v. I.

First Servant. Here they 'll be, man. Some o' their plants are ill-rooted already; the least wind i' the world will blow them down.

Second Servant. Lepidus is high-coloured.-Ant. & C., ii. 7.

Belarius. I cannot tell: long is it since I saw him,
But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of favour
Which then he wore; the snatches in his voice,
And burst of speaking, were as his: I am absolute
'Twas very Cloten.-Cym., iv. 2.

Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa,

Pericles. Look, who kneels here! Thy burden at the sea, and called Marina.-Per., v. 3. Occasionally, there are indications of look or gesture in the person spoken of, though addressed in the second person :

Iago (Aside). He takes her by the palm : ay, well said, whisper: with as little a web as this will I ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks as these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had been better you had not kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent courtesy ! 'tis so indeed. Yet again your fingers to your lips ?—Oth., ii. 1. Oh, sweetest, fairest lily!

Guiderius.

My brother wears thee not the one half so well
As when thou grew'st thyself--Cym., iv. 2.

In the two following passages we have indication of a peculiar gesture denoting hearty relish of something heard :—

One rubb'd his elbow, thus, and fleer'd, and swore,

A better speech was never spoke before.-Love's L. L., v. 2.

To face the garment of rebellion

With some fine colour, that may please the eye
Of fickle changelings, and poor discontents,
Which gape, and rub the elbow, at the news
Of hurly-burly innovation.-1 H. IV., v. 1.

In the following two passages there are indications of peculiar dress, badge, or other distinctive peculiarity, marking persons who approach; and recognized before the wearers come near enough for their identity to be clearly discerned :

Here comes two of the house of the Montagues.*-R. & Jul., i. 1.

See, who comes here?

Macduff.
Malcolm. My countryman; but yet I know him not.—Macb., iv. 3.

By the Scottish tartan dress worn by Rosse, the prince recognizes him for a compatriot; but does not know him individually until he comes close.

In the following passage, the dramatist draws attention to the change of manner in Edgar when he drops the Bedlam beggar's diction, and assumes one which he may pass off afterwards as that of "some fiend" supposed to have possessed" Poor Tom":

:

Gloster. . . . Methinks thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st
In better phrase and matter than thou didst.-Lear, iv. 6.

INDIRECT PRAISE OF CHARACTER.

Shakespeare has an adroit way of putting description and praise of character into the mouths of other personages in the drama; and sometimes, with enhanced effect, into the mouth of a person unfriendly to the one involuntarily or reluctantly praised. The dramatist himself has a passage illustrative of this point :—

But what the repining enemy commends,

That breath fame blows; that praise, sole pure, transcends.-Tr. & Cr., i. 3.
Angelo. . . . What's this, what's this? Is this her fault or mine?

The tempter or the tempted, who sins most, ha?
Not she; nor doth she tempt: but it is I,
That, lying by the violet in the sun,

Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous season.—M. for M., ii. 2.

Don Pedro. And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that I know. Thus far can I praise him; he is of a noble strain, of approved valour, and confirmed honesty.— M. Ado, ii. 1.

Oliver. . . . I hope I shall see an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he 's gentle; never schooled, and yet learned; full of noble device; of all sorts enchantingly beloved.-As You L., i. 1.

Polixenes. This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever

Ran on the green sward: nothing she does or seems

But smacks of something greater than herself,

Too noble for this place.-W. T., iv. 3.

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The Montague faction wore a token in their hats, to distinguish them from their rivals, the Capulets.

Iago.

Iago.... The Moor is of a free and open nature
That thinks men honest that but seem to be so.-Oth., i. 3.

Iago.

...

The Moor-howbeit I endure him not

Is of a constant, loving, noble nature.-Ibid., ii. 1.

Cassio. She's a most exquisite lady.

Iago. And I'll warrant her, full of game.

Cassio. Indeed, she is a most fresh and delicate creature.

Iago. What an eye she has; methinks it sounds a parley of provocation.
Cassio. An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest.

Iago. And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love?
Cassio. She is, indeed, perfection.—Ibid., ii. 3.

She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, that she holds it a vice in her goodness, not to do more than she is requested. . . . 'Tis most easy the inclining Desdemona to subdue in any honest suit: she's framed as fruitful as the free elements.-Ibid., ii. 3.

Othello. . O, the world hath not a sweeter creature: she might lie by an emperor's side, and command him tasks. .. So delicate with her needle! An admirable musician! O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear! Of so high and plenteous wit and invention! . . . And then of so gentle a condition !—Ibid., iv. 1.

Othello.

Come, swear it, damn thyself;

Lest, being like one of Heaven, the devils themselves

Should fear to seize thee. . . . O thou weed,

Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet,

That the sense aches at thee. . .

Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,

Made to write whore upon ?-Ibid., iv. 2.

Belarius. . . . This youth, howe'er distress'd, appears he hath had Good ancestors.

Arviragus. How angel-like he sings!

Guiderius. But his neat cookery! he cut our roots in characters,
And sauc'd our broths, as Juno had been sick,
And he her dieter.

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A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh

Was that it was, for not being such a smile;
The smile mocking the sigh, that it would fly
From so divine a temple, to commix

With winds that sailors rail at.-Cym., iv. 2.

Posthumus. . . .
Gods! if you
Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I never
Had liv'd to put on this: so had you saved
The noble Imogen to repent: and struck
Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance.
For thee, Imogen! even for whom my life
Is, every breath, a death.-Ibid., v. 1.

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...

So I'll die

One sand another

Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad

Who died, and was Fidele. What think you?

Guiderius. The same dead thing alive.

Belarius. Peace, peace; see farther; he eyes us not; forbear;
Creatures may be alike: were 't he, I am sure

He would have spoke to us.-Ibid., v. 5.

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