Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd Pantaloon, With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side; His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. SHYLOCK'S REMONSTRANCE WITH ANTONIO. [From Merchant of Venice.] SIGNIOR Antonio, many a time and oft, You call me- misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, And all for use of that which is mine own. Well then, it now appears you need my help: Go to then; you come to me, and you say, "Shylock, we would have monies": you say so; You that did void your rheum upon my beard, And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold; monies is your suit: What should I say to you? should I What damned error, but some sober brow Will bless it, and approve it with a text, Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? There is no vice so simple, but assumes Some mark of virtue on its outward parts. How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Who, inward search'd, have livers white Though justice be thy plea, consider [From Taming of the Shrew.] THINK you, a little din can daunt my ears? Have I not in my time heard lions roar? Have I not heard the sea, puff'd up with winds, Rage like an angry boar, chafed with sweat? Have I not heard great ordnance in the field, And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies? Have I not in a pitched battle heard Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang? And do you tell me of a woman's tongue; That gives not half so great a blow to the ear, As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire. THE MIND ALONE VALUABLE. [From Taming of the Shrew.] FOR 'tis the mind that makes the body rich: And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, So honor peereth in the meanest habit. What is the jay more precious than the lark, Because his feathers are more beautif O, no, good Kate: neither art thou the worse For this poor furniture and mean array. A WIFE'S DUTY. [From Taming of the Shrew.] FIE, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow; And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy gov ernor : It blots thy beauty, as frost bites the meads: Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds; And in no sense is meet, or amiable. A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty; And, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it. Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance; commits his body To painful labor, both by sea and land; To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe; And craves no other tribute at thy hands, |