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Which now suits with it.-Whiles I threat, he lives;

Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. [A bell rings.

I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.

MACBETH, A. 2, s. 1.

NATURE GOVERNED BY GOD'S REPRESENTATIVE ON EARTH.

YE elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves;

And ye, that on the sands with printless foot
Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him,
When he comes back; you demy-puppets, that
By moon-shine do the green-sour ringlets make,
Whereof the ewe not bites; and you, whose
pastime

Is to make midnight-mushrooms; that rejoice
To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid
(Weak masters though ye be,) I have be-dimm'd
The noon-tide sun, call'd forth the mutinous
winds,

And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault
Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder
Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak
With his own bolt: the strong-bas'd promontory
Have I made shake; and by the spurs pluck'd up
The pine and cedar: graves, at my command,
Have waked their sleepers; oped, and let them
forth

By my so potent art: But this rough magick
I here abjure: and, when I have requir'd
Some heavenly musick, (which even now I do,)

To work mine end upon their senses, that
This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And deeper than did ever plummet sound,
I'll drown my book.

TEMPEST, A. 5, s. 1.

NATURE IN ANTAGONISM TO

PASSION.

HUBERT. My lord, they say, five moons were seen to-night:

Four fixed; and the fifth did whirl about
The other four, in wond'rous motion.
K. JOHN. Five moons?

HUB. Old men, and beldams, in the streets Do prophesy upon it dangerously

:

Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths: And when they talk of him, they shake their heads,

And whisper one another in the ear;

And he, that speaks, doth gripe the hearer's wrist;

Whilst he, that hears, makes fearful action, With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling

eyes.

I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,
With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news;
Who, with his shears and measure in his hand,
Standing on slippers, (which his nimble haste
Had falsely thrust upon contráry feet,)
Told of a many thousand warlike French,
That were embattled and rank'd in Kent:
Another lean unwash'd artificer

Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death.

K. JOHN. Why seek'st thou to possess me with these fears?

Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death? Thy hand hath murder'd him: I had mighty

cause

To wish him dead, but thou had'st none to kill him.

HUB. Had none, my lord! why, did you not provoke me?

K. JOHN.

attended

It is the curse of kings, to be

By slaves, that take their humours for a warrant
To break within the bloody house of life:
And, on the winking of authority,

To understand a law; to know the meaning
Of dangerous majesty, when, perchance, it frowns
More upon humour than advis'd respect.

HUB. Here is your hand and seal for what I
did.

K. JOHN. O, when the last account 'twixt
heaven and earth

Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal
Witness against us to damnation!

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds, Makes deeds ill done! Had'st not thou been by,

A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd,
Quoted, and sign'd to do a deed of shame,
This murder had not come into my mind:
But, taking note of thy abhorr'd aspect,
Finding thee fit for bloody villainy,
Apt, liable, to be employ'd in danger,
I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death;
And thou, to be endeared to a king,
Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
HUB. My lord,

K. JOHN. Hadst thou but shook thy head, or

made a pause,

When I spake darkly what I purposed;

Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face,
As bid me tell my tale in express

words;

Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off,

And those thy fears might have wrought fears in

me:

But thou didst understand me by my signs,
And didst in signs again parley with sin;
Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent,
And, consequently, thy rude hand to act

The deed, which both our tongues held vile to

name.

Out of my sight, and never see me more!
My nobles leave me; and my state is brav'd,
Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers:
Nay, in the body of this fleshly land,

This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
Hostility and civil tumult reigns

Between my conscience, and my cousin's death.
HUB. Arm you against your other enemies,

I'll make a peace between your soul and you.
Young Arthur is alive: This hand of mine
Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand,
Not painted with the crimson spots of blood.
Within this bosom never enter'd yet

The dreadful motion of a murd'rous thought,
And you have slander'd nature in my form;
Which howsoever rude exteriorly,

Is yet the cover of a fairer mind

Than to be butcher of an innocent child.

K. JOHN. Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee

to the peers,

Throw this report on their incensed rage,

And make them tame to their obedience!
Forgive the comment that my passion made
Upon thy feature; for my rage was blind,
And foul imaginary eyes of blood

Presented thee more hideous than thou art.
O, answer not; but to my closet bring
The angry lords, with all expedient haste :
I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast.

KING JOHN, A. 4, s. 2.

NATURE OVERFLOWING THE
HEALTHY DYKES OF ART.

NATURE never fram'd a woman's heart
Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice :
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
Misprising what they look on; and her wit
Values itself so highly, that to her

All matter else seems weak: she cannot love,
Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
She is so self-endeared. I never yet saw man,
How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd,
But she would spell him backward: if fair-faced,
She'd swear, the gentleman should be her sister;
If black, why, nature, drawing of an antick,
Made a foul blot: if tall, a lance ill-headed;
If low, an agate very vilely cut :

If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds;
If silent, why, a block moved with none.
So turns she every man the wrong side out;
And never gives to truth and virtue, that
Which simpleness and merit purchaseth.

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING, A. 3, s. 1.

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