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To land his legions all as soon as I :
His marches are expedient to this town,
His forces strong, his soldiers confident.
With him along is come the mother-queen,
An Até, stirring him to blood and strife ;
With her, her niece, the lady Blanch of Spain;
With them a bastard of the king deceased:
And all the unsettled humours of the land,—
Rash, inconsiderate, fiery, voluntaries,
With ladies' faces, and fierce dragons' spleens,-
Have sold their fortunes at their native homes,
Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs,
To make a hazard of new fortunes here.
In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits,
Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er,
Did never float upon the swelling tide,
To do offence and scath in Christendom.
The interruption of their churlish drums
Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand,
To parley, or to fight; therefore, prepare.

KING JOHN, A. 2, s. 1.

MEETING OF THE AFFECTIONS.

BUT, O, the noble combat, that, 'twixt joy and sorrow, was fought in Paulina! She had one eye declined for the loss of her husband; another elevated that the oracle was fulfilled: She lifted the princess from the earth; and so locks her in embracing, as if she would pin her to her heart, that she might no more be in danger of losing.

One of the prettiest touches of all, and that which angled for mine eyes (caught the water, though not the fish,) was, when at the relation of

the queen's death, with the manner how she came to it, (bravely confessed, and lamented by the king,) how attentiveness wounded his daughter; till, from one side of dolour to another, she did, with an alas! I would fain say, bleed tears; for, I am sure, my heart wept blood. Who was most marble there, changed colour; some swooned, all sorrowed: if all the world could have seen it, the woe had been universal.

WINTER'S TALE, A. 5, s. 2.

MEETING OF THE SYMPATHIES. PORTIA. I pray you, tarry; pause a day or two,

Before you hazard; for, in choosing wrong,
I lose your company; therefore, forbear a while:
There's something tells me, (but it is not love,)
I would not lose you; and you know yourself,
Hate counsels not in such a quality :

But lest you should not understand me well,
(And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought,)
I would detain you here some month or two,
Before you venture for me.
I could teach you,
How to choose right, but then I am forsworn;
So will I never be: so may you miss me;
But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin,
That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes,
They have o'er-look'd me, and divided me;
One half of me is yours, the other half yours,-
Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours,
And so all yours: O! these naughty times
Put bars between the owners and their rights;
And so, though yours, not yours.-Prove it so,
Let fortune bear the blame of it,—not I.

I speak too long; but 'tis to delay the time;
To eke it, and to draw it out in length,

To stay you from election.

BASSANIO.

Let me choose; For, as I am, I live upon the rack.

POR. Upon the rack, Bassanio? then confess What treason there is mingled with your love.

BASS. None, but that ugly treason of mistrust, Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love: There may as well be amity and life

'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love. POR. Ay, but I fear, you speak upon the rack,

Where men enforced do speak anything.

BASS. Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth.

POR. Well then, confess and live.

BASS.

Had been the

very sum of

Confess and love,

my

confession :

O happy torment, when my torturer

Doth teach me answers for deliverance!

But let me to my fortune and the caskets.
POR. Away then: I am lock'd in one of
them;

If you do love me, you will find me out.-
Nerissa, and the rest, stand all aloof.-

Let musick sound, while he doth make his choice;
Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end,
Fading in musick: that the comparison

May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream,

And wat'ry death-bed for him: He may win;

And what is musick then? then musick is
Even as the flourish when true subjects bow
To a new-crown'd monarch: such it is,
As are those dulcet sounds in break of day,

That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear, And summon him to marriage.

With no less presence, but with much more love,

Than young Alcides, when he did redeem
The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy
To the sea-monster: I stand for sacrifice,
The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives,
With bleared visages, come forth to view
The issue of the exploit. Go, Hercules!
Live thou, I live: With much, much more dismay
I view the fight, than thou that mak'st the fray.

MERCHANT OF VENICE, A. 3, s. 2.

MEN

IN HIGH POSITION

ARE

OBLIGED TO ASSUME MANNERS
OFTEN FOREIGN TO THEIR DIS-
POSITION.

NORFOLK. All this was order'd by the good discretion

Of the right reverend cardinal of York.

BUCKINGHAM. The devil speed him! no man's pie is free'd

From his ambitious finger. What had he

To do in these fierce vanities?

That such a keech, can with his

I wonder,

very bulk Take up the rays o'the beneficial sun, And keep it from the earth.

Surely, sir,

NOR. There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends: For, being not propp'd by ancestry, (whose

grace

Chalks successors their way,) nor call'd upon

For high feats done to the crown; neither allied
To eminent assistants, but, spider-like,

Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note,
The force of his own merit makes his way;
A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys
A place next to the king.

ABERCORN.

I cannot tell What heaven hath given him, let some graver

eye

Pierce into that; but I can see his pride

Peep through each part of him: Whence has he that?

If not from hell, the devil is a niggard;

Or has given all before, and he begins
A new hell in himself.

K. HENRY VIII., A. 1, s. 1.

MENTAL ANGUISH.

T'is now the very witching time of night; When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes

out

Contagion to this world: Now could I drink hot blood,

And do such business as the bitter day

Would quake to look on. Soft; now to my

mother.

O, heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever
The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom :
Let me be cruel, not unnatural:

I will speak daggers to her, but use none;
My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites:
How in my words soever she be shent,
To give them seals never, my soul, consent!

HAMLET, A. 3, s. 2.

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