Puslapio vaizdai
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Would lose their names, and so would Justice too.
Then every thing includes itself in power;
Power into will, will into appetite;
And appetite (an universal wolf,
So doubly seconded with will and power)
Must make perforce an universal prey,

And last, eat up itself.

Conduct in War Superior to Action.

The still and mental parts,

That do contrive how many hands shall strike,
When fitness call them on, and know by measure
Of their observant toil the enemies weight;
Why, this hath not a finger's dignity;

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They call this bed-work mapp'ry, closet war: CA

So that the ram that batters down the wall,

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For the great fwing and rudeness of his poize,
They place before his hand that made the engine;
Or those, that with the fineness of their souls

By reason guide his execution.

SCENE VI. Respect.

I ask, that I might waken reverence, And bid the cheek be ready with a blush Modest as morning, when she coldly eyes The youthful Phœbus...

ACT II. SCENE III.

DOUBT.

The wound of peace is furety,

Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd

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The

mentator is to do justice to his author, it feems to me, highly improper to stuff ne's observations with the gall

ties

of private animo

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The beacon of the wife; the tent that searches
To th' bottom of the worst.

SCENE IV. Pleafure and Revenge.
Pleasure and revenge

Have ears more deaf than adders, to the voice
Of any true decision.

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No, Pandarus: I stalk about her door
Like a strange foul upon the Stygian banks
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
And give me swift transportance to those fields,
Where I may wallow in the lilly beds

Propos'd for the deserver! O, gentle Pandarus,
From Cupid's shoulders pluck his painted wings,

And fly with me to Creffid:

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I'm giddy; expectation whirls me round.
Th' imaginary relish is so sweet,

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That it inchants my fenfe: what will it be,
When that the watry palate tafles indeed,
Love's thrice reputed nectar? Death, I fear me;
Swooning destruction, or fome joy too fine,
Too fubtle-potent, and too sharp in sweetness,
For the capacity of my rude powers;
I fear it much, and I do fear befides,
That I shall lofe diftinction in my joys;
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps

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My heart beats thicker than a fev'rous pulse;
And all my powers do their besfowing lose,
Like vassalage at unawares encountring

The eye of majesty.

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SCENE

SCENE V. Constancy in Love protested. Troilus. True swains in love shall in the world to

come

Approve their truths by Troilus: when their rhimes,
Full of protest, of oath, and big compare,
Want similies: truth, tired with iteration,
As true as steel, (4) as plantage to the moon,
As fun to day, as turtle to her mate,
As iron to adamant, as earth to th' center:
Yet after all comparisons of truth,
(As truths authentick author to be cited,)
As true as Troilus, shall crown up the verse,
And fanctify the numbers.

Cres. Prophet may you be!
If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,
When time is old and hath forgot itself,
When water drops have worn the stones of Troy,
And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up,
And mighty ftates characterless are grated
To dufty nothing; yet let memory,
From false to false, among false maids in love,
Upbraid my falfhood! when they've faid, as false
As air, as water, as wind, as fandy earth;
As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifer's calf;"
Pard to the hind, or step-dame to her fon;
Yea-let them say, to stick the heart of falfhood,
As false as Cressid.

(4) As plantage, &c.] The Oxford editor observes, "It was heretofore the prevailing opinion, that the production and growth of plants depended much upon the influences of the moon: and the rules and directions given for fowing, planting, grafting, pruning, had reference generally to the changes, the increase, or waining of the moon."

SCENE

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SCENE VII. Pride cures Pride.

Pride hath no other glass
To shew itself, but pride: for fupple knees
Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees.

Greatness, contemptible when it declines.

'Tis certain; greatness, once fall'n out with fortune, Must fall out with men too: what the declined is, He shall as foon read in the eyes of others, As feel in his own fall: for men, like butterflies, Shew not their mealy wings but to the summer;

And not a man, for being fimply man,

Hath honour, but is honour'd by those honours

That are without him as place, riches, favour,

Prizes of accident as oft as merit;

Which, when they fall, (as being flipp'ry standers)
The love that lean'd on them, as flipp'ry too,
(5) Do one pluck down another, and together
Die in the fall,

Honour continu'd Acts necessary to preferve its Luftre.
Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,

Wherein he puts alms for oblivion. (A great-fiz'd monster of ingratitudes) Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devour'd

As fast as they are made, forgot as foon

As done: perseverance keeps honour bright:
'To have done, is to hang quite out of fashion,
Like rusty mail in monumental mockery.
For honour travels in a straight so narrow,

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Where

(5) Do] This is commonly read doth; but so, is not English. Which, in the 3d line preceding, is the nominative cafe, and plural: the rest should all be read as in a parenthesis. I find, the Oxford editor is the only one that reads it properly.

Where one but goes abreast; keep then the path,
For emulation hath a thousand fons,

That one by one pursue; if you give way,
Or turn afide from the direct forth-right,
Like to an entred tide, they all rush by,
And leave you hindermost; and there you lie,
Like to a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
For pavement to the abject rear, o'er-run
And trampled on: then what they do in present,
Tho' lefs than yours in past, muft o'er-top yours.
For time is like a fashionable hoft,

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'That flightly shakes his parting guest by the hand;
But with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would Ay,

Grafps in the comer; welcome ever smiles,
And farewel goes out fighing. O let not virtue seek
Remuneration for the thing it was;

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For beauty, wit, high birth, desert in service
Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all
To envious and caluminating time. :

One touch of nature makes the whole world kin;
That all, with one confent praise new-born gawds,
Tho' they are made and moulded of things past,
And give to duft, that is a little gilt,
More land than they will give to gold o'er dusted:
The present eye praises the present object.

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SCENE VIII. Love shook off by a Soldier.

Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid

Shall from your neck unloose his am'rous fold;
And, like a dew drop from the lion's mane,
Beshook to air.

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