Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, modes, shews of grief,
That can denote me truly: these, indeed, seem;
For they are actions that a man might play :
But I have that within which passeth show;
These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
When remedies are past, the griefs are ended
By feeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
To moan a mischief that is past and gone,
Is the next way to draw new mischief on:
What cannot be preferv'd when Fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mocking makes :
The robb'd that smiles, steals something from the thief;
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
GRIEF. (Marks of.)
What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?
Why dost thou look so fadly on my fon?
What means that hand upon that breast of thine?
Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds ?
Ee these sad figns confirmers of thy words?
Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep,
And in his fimple shew he harbours treason.
Being naked, sick, nor fane nor capitol,
The prayers of priests, nor times of facrifice,
Embarments all of fury, shall life up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius. Where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
Against the hofpitable canon, would I
Wash my fierce hand in 's heart. Coriolanus, A. 1. Sc. 12.
HECTOR FIGHTING.
I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft,
Labouring for destiny, make cruel way
Through ranks of Greekish youth; and I have seen thee,
As hot as Perfeus, spur thy Phrygian steed,
And feen thee scorning forfeits and fubduements
When thou haft hung thy advanc'd sword i' th' air,
Not letting it decline on the declin'd!
That I have faid unto my standers-by,
Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life !
And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath,
When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in,
Like an Olympian wrestling.
Troilus and Cressida, A. 4. Sc. 9.
HENRY V. DESCRIBED BY HIS FATHER.
- He is gracious if he be obsery'd;
He hath a tear for pity, and a hand
Open as day for melting charity :
Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he's flint:
As humorous as winter, and as fudden
As flaws congealed in the spring of day.
His temper, therefore, must be well observed;
Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,
When you perceive his blood inclin'd to mirth;
But, being moody, give him line and scope,
Till that his passions, like a whale on ground,
Confound themselves with working.
Henry IV. Part II. A. 4. Sc. 2.
HENRY V. DEFENCE OF HIMSELF.
Heaven forgive them that so much have sway'd
Your Majesty's good thoughts away from me!
I will redeem all this on Percy's head,
And, in the closing of fome glorious day,
Be bold to tell you that I am your fon;
When I will wear a garment all of blood,
And stain my favours in a bloody mafk,
Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it.
And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,
That this fame child of honour and renown,
This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,
And your unthought-of Harry, chance to meet :
For every honour sitting on his helm,
Would they were multitudes, and on my head
My shames redoubled! for the time will come,
That I shall make this northern youth exchange
His glorious deeds for my indignities.
Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
T' engross up glorious deeds on my behalf:
And I will call him to so strict account,
That he shall render every glory up,
Yea even the flightest worship of, his time,
Or I will tear the reck'ning from his heart.
This, in the name of heaven, I promise here:
The which if I perform, and do survive,
I do beseech your Majesty, may falve
The long-grown wounds of my intemperature.
If not, the end of life cancels all bonds;
And I will die a thousand thousand deaths,
Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
Henry IV. Part I. A. 3. Sc. 4.
HENRY V. CHARACTER.
Hear him but reason in divinity,
And, all admiring, with an inward wish
You would defire the king were made a prelate.
Hear him debate of common-wealth affairs,
You'd fay, it hath been all in all his study.
Lift his difcourse of war, and you shall hear
A fearful battle render'd you in mufic.
Turn him to any cause of policy,
The Gordlian knot of it he will unloose,
Familiar as his garter. When he speaks,
The air, a charter'd libertine, is still;
And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears,
To fleal his sweet and honey'd fentences.
King Henry V. A. 1. Sc. 1.
You are too much mistaken in this king.
Question your grace the late ambafladors,
With what great ftate he heard their embassy,
How well supplied with noble counsellors,
How modeft in exception, and withal
How terrible in constant resolution;
And you shall find his vanities fore-spent
Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus,
Covering difcretion with a coat of folly!
As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots
That shall first spring, and be more delicate.
HENRY V. SPEECH TO HIS ARMY..
He that out-lives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crifpian;
He that shall live this day, and see old-age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And fay, To-morrow is St. Crifpian;
Then will he strip his sleeve, and shew his scars.
Old men forget; yet will not all forget,
But they'll remember, with advantages,
What feats they did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouth as household words,
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Glo'ster,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
Our airy buildeth in the cedar's top,
And dallies with the wind, and scorns the fun.
King Richard III. A. 1. Sc. 4.
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,
That, doating on his own obfequious bondage,
Wears out his time, much like his master's ass,
For nought but provender; and, when he's old, cashier'd
Whip me such honeft knaves. Others there are,
Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty,
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves;
And, throwing but shows of service on their Lords,
Well thrive with them; and, when they've lin'd their coats,
Do themselves homage. These folks have some foul,
And much a one do I profess myself.
It is as fure as you are Roderigo,
Were I the Moor, I would not be lago.
In following him, I follow but myself,
Heaven is my judge!-Not I, for love and duty,
But, seeming so, for my peculiar end.
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In compliment extern, 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my fleeve,
For daws to peck at. I'm not what I am.
Let none prefume
To wear an undeserved dignity.
O that estates, degrees, and offices,
Were not deriv'd corruptly! that clear honour
Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer!
How many then thould cover, that stand bare!
How many be commanded, that command!
How much low peasantry would then be gleaned
From the true feed of honour! How much honour
Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times,
To be new varnish'd! Merchant of Venice, A. 2. Sc. 9.
By heav'n, methinks it were an easy leap,
To pluck bright honour from the pale-face moon;
To dive into the bottom of the deep,
Where fadom line could never touch the ground,
And pluck up drowned honour by the locks;
So he that doth redeem her thence, might wear,
Without co-rival, all her dignities.
Henry IV. Part I. A. 1. Sc. 3.
Well, 'tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if Honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can Honour
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