Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters;
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness;
I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children
You owe me no Subfcription. Then let fall
Your horrible pleasure ;-here I ftand your flave;
A poor, infirm, weak, and defpis'd old man!
But yet I call you fervile minifters,
That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
Your high-engender'd battles, 'gainst a head
So old and white as this. Oh! oh! 'tis foul.

Pr'ythee go in thyfelf; feek thine own ease;
This tempeft will not give me leave to ponder
On things would hurt me more-but I'll go in:
In, boy, go first. You houfelefs poverty-
Nay, get thee in; I'll pray, and then I'll fleep-
Poor naked wretches, wherefoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitilefs ftorm!
How fhall your houfelefs heads, and unfed fides,
Your loop'd and window'd raggednefs defend you
From feafons fuch as thefe ?-O, I have talen
Too little care of this! take phyfic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou may'ft fhake the fuperflux to them,
And fhew the heavens more juft.

DESCRIPTION of DOVER CLIFFE. [SHAKESPEARE.]

COME on, fir, here's the place-ftand ftill. How

COME fearful

And dizzy 'tis to caft one's eyes fo low!

The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air,
Shew fcarce fo grofs as beetles. Half way down
Hangs one that gathers famphire; dreadful trade!
Methinks, he feems 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
Almoft too fmall 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
Topple down headlong.

An

A

LAS,

An opprefs'd COUNTRY.

[SHAKESPEARE.]

poor country,

Almoft afraid to know itfelf! It cannot

Be call'd our mother, but our grave; where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once feen to fmile:

Where fighs and groans, and fhrieks that rend the air,
Are made, not mark'd; where violent forrow seems
A modern ecftafy: the dead man's knell

Is there scarce afk'd, for whom and good mens lives.
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying, or ere they ficken.

OTHELLO's RELATION of his COURTSHIP to the SENATE.

[SHAKESPEARE.}

OST potent, grave, and reverent figniors,
My very noble, and approv'd good mafters;
That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter,
It is most true; true I have married her;

The very head, and front of my offending,

Hath this extent; no more. Rude am I in my speech,
And little blefs'd with the foft phrafe of peace;
For fince thefe arms of mine had feven years pith,
'Till now, fome nine moons wafted, they have us'd
Their dearest action, in the tented field;

And little of this great world can I fpeak,

More than pertains to feats of broils and battle;
And therefore little fhall I grace my cause,

In fpeaking for myfélf. Yet, by your gracious patience,
I will a round unvarnifh'd tale deliver,

Of my whole courfe of love; what drugs, what charms, What conjuration, and what mighty magic, (For fuch proceeding I am charg'd withal)

I won his daughter with

Her father lov'd me, oft invited me;
Still queftion'd me the ftory of my life,
From year to year; the battles, fieges, fortunes,
That I have past.

I ran it through, e'en from my boyifh days,
To th' very moment that he bade me tell it :
Wherein I spoke of moft difaftrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field;

Of

Of hair-breadth 'fcapes i' th' imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the infolent foe,

And fold to flavery; of my redemption thence,

And with it all my travels hiftory.

All these to hear

Would Defdemona feriously incline;

But ftill the house affairs would draw her thence,
Which ever as fhe could with hafte dispatch,
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my difcourfe: which I obferving,
Took once a pliant hour, and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart,
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels fhe had fomething heard,
But not diftinctively; I did confent,
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of fome diftrefsful ftroke,
That my youth fuffer'd. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of fighs;

She wore in faith, 'twas ftrange, 'twas paffing ftrange, 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful

She with'd fhe had not heard it, yet fhe wifh'd

That heav'n had made her fuch a man; -fhe thank'd me, And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her,

I fhould but teach him how to tell my ftory,

And that would woe her. On this hint I fpake;
She lov'd me for the dangers I had paft,
And I lov'd her, that he did pity them.

REPUTATION.

[SHAKESPEARE.]

OOD name in man or woman, dear my lord,

Go

Is the immediate jewel of their fouls;

Who fteals my purfe fteals trafh, 'tis fomething, nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been flave to thousands; But he that filches from me my good name,

Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.

BANISH

BANISHMENT, CONSOLATION under it.

[SHAKESPEARE.]

LL places that the eye of heaven vifits,
Are to a wife man ports and happy havens.
Teach thy neceffity to reafon thus:

There is no virtue like neceffity,

And think not, that the king did banish thee;
But thou the king. Woe doth the heavier fit
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.
Go fay, I fent thee forth to purchafe honour,
And not the king exil'd thee. Or fuppofe,
Devouring peftilence hangs in our air,
And thou art flying to a frefher clime.
Look, what thy foul holds dear, imagine it
To lye that way thou go'ft, not whenee thou com'ft.
Suppofe the finging birds, musicians;

The grafs, whereon thou tread 'ft, the prefence-floor
The flow'rs, fair ladies; and thy fteps, no more
Than a delightful meafure or a dance.

For gnarling forrow hath lefs power to bite
The man, that mocks at it, and fets it light.

THOUGHTS ineffectual to moderate AFFLICTIONS. [SHAKESPEARE.]

OB, who can hold a fire in his hand,

By thinking on the frofty Caucafus ?

Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,.
By bare imagination of a feaft?
Or wallow naked in December, fnow,
By thinking on fantastic fummer's heat?
Oh, no, the apprehenfion of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worfe;.
Fell forrow's tooth doth never rankle more
Than when it bites, but lanceth not the fore.

ENGLAND.

[SHAKESPEARE,]

HIS royal throne of kings, this feepter'd iffe,
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 happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious flone fet in the filver fea,
Which ferves it in the office of a wall,
Or of a moat defensive to a houfe,
Against the envy of lefs happier lands;

England, bound in with the triumphant fea,
Whofe rocky fhores beat back the envious fiege
Of wat'ry Neptune, is bound in with fhame.
With inky blots, and rotten parchment-bonds.
That England, that was wont to conquer others,
Hath made a fhameful conqueft of itfelf.

The SUN rifing after a dark NIGHT.

K

[SHAKESPEARE.]

Now'st thou not,

That when the fearching eye of heav'n is hid
Behind the globe, and lights the lower world,
Then thieves and robbers range abroad unfeen,
In murders, and in outrage bloody here:
But when from under this terreftrial ball
He fires the proud tops of the eaftern pines,
And darts his light through every guilty hole,
Then murders, treafons, and detefted fins,

The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs,
Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves.

PRin

The CARES of ROYALTY.

[SHAKESPEARE.]

Rinces have but their titles for their glories,
An outward honour, for an inward toil;

And, for unfelt imaginations,

They often feel a world of endless cares;
So that between their titles, and low name,
There's nothing differs but the outward fame.

IN

SUBMISSION to HEAVEN, our DUTY.
[SHAKESPEARE.]

N common worldly things 'tis call'd ungrateful
With dull unwillingness to pay a debt,
Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent;
Much more to be thus oppofite to heav'n;
For it requires the royal debt it lent you.

The