Lady Percy. Then should you be nothing but musical; Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh. Hotspur. I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish. 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? 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. 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. 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 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. 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! 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. Some horrible conceit.-Oth., iii. 3. Iago. I see, this hath a little dash'd your spirits. . . Desdemona. Alas, the heavy day! Why do you weep? 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. The angry spot doth glow on Cæsar's brow, Being cross'd in conference by some senators.—Jul. C., i. 2. 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. Now he denies it faintly, and laughs it out. 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, 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 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 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. 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 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. The tempter or the tempted, who sins most, ha? Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower, 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. 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 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. Iago. And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love? 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, A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh Was that it was, for not being such a smile; With winds that sailors rail at.-Cym., iv. 2. Posthumus. . . . ... 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; He would have spoke to us.-Ibid., v. 5. |