hath learned no wit by nature nor art, may complain of good breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.

Character of an honest and simple Shepherd.

Sir, I am a true labourer; I earn that I eat, get that I wear; owe no man hate, envy no man's lapness; glad of other men's good, content with my harm; and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes graze, and my lamb's suck.

Description of a Lover.

A lean cheek; which you have not a blue eye, and sunken; which you have not: an unquestionable spirit ;* which you have not a beard neglected; which you have not :-but I pardon you for that; for, simply, your having in beard is a younger brother's revenue :-Then your hose should be ungartered, your bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and every thing about you demonstrating a careless desolation. But you are no such man: you are rather pointdevice in your accoutrements; as loving yourself, than seeming the lover of any other.

Real Passion dissembled.

Think not I love him, though I ask for him; 'Tis but a peevish§ boy :-yet he talks well ;But what care I for words? yet words do well, When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. It is a pretty youth :-not very pretty :- [him. But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue Did make offence, his eye did heal it up.

He is not tall; yet for his years he's tall :

*A spirit averse to conversation.
+ Over exact.

§ Silly.

† Estate.

His leg is but so-so; and yet 'tis well :
There was a pretty redness in his lip :
A little riper and more lusty red

[ence

Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the differ-
Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask.
There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him
In parcels as I did, would have gone near
To fall in love with him: but, for my part,
I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet
I have more cause to hate him than to love him;
For what had he to do to chide at me?

He said, mine eyes were black, and my hair black;
And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me :
I marvel why I answer'd not again :
But that's all one; omittance is no quittance.

ACT IV.

The Varieties of Melancholy.

I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation: nor the musician's, which is fantastical; nor the courtier's, which is proud; nor the soldier's, which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is politic; nor the lady's, which is nice ;* nor the lover's, which is all these.

Marriage alters the Tempers of both Sexes.

Say a day, without the ever: no, no, Orlando ; men are April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen; more clamorous than a parrot against rain; more new-fangled than an ape; more giddy in my desires than a monkey; I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and I will do that when

* Trifling.

you are disposed to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and that when thou art inclined to sleep.

Cupid's Parentage.

No, that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was begot of thought,* conceived of spleen, and born of madness; that blind rascally boy, that abuses every one's eyes because his own are out, let him be judge how deep I am in love.

Oliver's description of his danger when sleeping. Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age, And high top bald with dry antiquity,

A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair,
Lay sleeping on his back; about his neck
A green and gilded snake had wreath'd itself,
Who with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd
The opening of his mouth; but suddenly
Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself,
And with indented glides did slip away
Into a bush: under which bush's shade
A lioness with udders all drawn dry,

Lay couching, head on ground, with cat-like watch,
When that sleeping man should stir for 'tis
The royal disposition of that beast

To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead.

ACT V.

Love.

Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. It is to be all made of sighs and tears :

It is to be all made of faith and service :-
It is to be all made of fantasy,

All made of passion, and all made of wishes;
All adoration, duty, and observance,

All humbleness, all patience, and impatience,
All purity, all trial, all observance.

* Melancholy.

COMEDY OF ERRORS.

ACT II.

Man's Pre-eminence.

THERE'S nothing, situate under Heaven's eyes
But hath its bound, in earth, in sea, in sky;
The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their males' subjects, and at their controls:
Men, more divine, the masters of all these,
Lords of the wide world, and wild watery seas,
Endued with intellectual sense and souls,
Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls,
Are masters to their females, and their lords:
Then let your will attend on their accords.

Patience easier taught than practised.
Patience, unmoved, no marvel though she pause,
They can be meek that have no other cause.
A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;

But were we burden'd with like weight of pain, As much, or more, we should ourselves complain. Defamation.

I see the jewel, best enamelled,

Will lose his beauty; and though gold 'bides still,
That others touch, yet often touching will

Wear gold; and so no man, that hath a name,
But falsehood and corruption doth it shame.

Jealousy.

Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown;
Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects,
I am not Adriana nor thy wife.

The time was once when thou unurged wouldst vow
That never words were music to thine ear,
That never object pleasing in thine eye,

That never touch well-welcome to thy hand,
That never meat sweet savour'd in thy taste,
Unless i spake, look'd, touch'd or carved to thee.

Slander.

For slander lives upon succession;
For ever housed, where it once gets possession.

ACT V.

A woman's jealousy more deadly than poison. The venom clamours of a jealous woman Poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth. It seems his sleeps were hinder'd by thy railing; And thereof comes it that his head is light. Thou say'st, his meat was sauced by thy upbraiding. Unquiet meals make ill digestions,

Thereof the raging fire of fever bred;

And what's a fever but a fit of madness ?
Thou say'st his sports were hinder'd by thy brawls;
Sweet recreation barr'd what doth ensue,
But moody and dull melancholy,

(Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair);
And, at her heels, a huge infectious troop
Of pale distemperatures and foes to life

Description of a beggarly Fortune-teller.
A hungry lean-faced villain

A mere anatomy, a mountebank,

A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller:
A needy hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch,
A living dead man this pernicious slave,
Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer;
And, gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse,
And with no face, as 'twere, outfacing me,
Cries out, I was possess'd.