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And bid thy ceremony give the cnre.

Think'st thou, the iiery fever will go out

With titles blown from adulation?

Will it give place to flexure and low bending?

Cans't thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,

Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream,

Thatplay'stso subtly with a king's repose.

I am a king, that find thee, and I know,

"Pis not the balm, the sceptre, and the ball,

The sword, the mace, the crown imperial)

The enter-tissued robe of gold and pearl,

The farsed.titled running 'fore the king;

The throne be sits on, nor the tide of pomp,

That beats upon the high shoar of this world;

No, not all these thrice-gorgeous ceremonies,

Not all these, laid in bed majestical,

Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave;

Who, with a body fill'd, and vacant mind,

Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread;

Never sees horrid night, the child of hell:

But, like a lacquey, from the rise to set.

Sweats in the eye of Phoebus; and all night

Sleeps in Elysium: next day, after dawrt,

Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse:

And follows so the ever-running year

With profitable labour to his grave:

And (but for ceremony) suqh a wretch,

Winding up days with toil, and nights with sleep,

Hath the fore-hand and 'vantage of a king.

The Miseeies of War.

Her vine, the merry cheererof the heart,
Unpruned lies: her hedges even pleach'd,
Like'prisoners wildly overgrown with hair,
Put forth disorder'd twigs : her fallow leas
The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory,
Doth root upon; while that the culture rusts,
That should deracinate such savagery.
The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth
The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover,
Wanting tiie scythe, all-uncorrected, rank,
C owdvcB b^ idleness, and nothing teems

But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs,
Losing both beauty and utility:
And all our vineyards, fallows, meads and hedges,
Defective in their natures, grow to wildness.

A Good Conscience.

What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted 31
Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his quarrel just;
And he but naked (though lock'd up in steel)
Whose Conscience with injustice is corrupted.



Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father,
In manners, as in shape; thy blood and virtue
Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness
Share with thy birth-right! Love all; trust a few;
Do wrong to none; be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend
Under thine own life's key: be check'd for silence;
Bat never tax'd for speech.

Honour due to Personal Merit, not to BiRTJt


From lowest place when virtuous things procead,
The place is dignified by th' doer's deed,
Where great additions swell, and virtues none,
It is a dropsied honour; good alone
Is good without a name; vileness is so;
The property, by what it is, shou'd go,
Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair;
In these, to nature she's immediate heir;
And these breed honour; That is honour's scorn,
Which challenges itself as honour's born;
And is not like the sire. Honours best thrive,
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our loregoers: the mere word's a slave
DebauoW'd on every tomb, on every grave ;„
A lying trophy.

J gainst Delay.

{SHAKESPEARE.) Let's take the instant by the forward top; For we are old, and on our qnick'st decrees 7h' inaudible and. noiseless foot of time Steals, ere we can effect them.

A fine Description of a Sleeping Man, about to be DestUoyed by a Snake and a Lioness.


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 iu 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 coaching head on ground, with cat-like watch,

When that the sleeping man should stir: for 'tis

The royal disposition of that beast

To prey on nothing that doth seem as <lead.

Description of a b^garly Conjurer, or a For-,


■: A. Hungry, lean.fac'd villain^

A mere anatomy, a mountebank,
A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller,
'Itr.^id.,\ haiio.y-ey'd, sharp.looking wretch,
A living dead man: this pernicious slave
Forsooth took on him as a Conjurer;
And gating in my eyes, feeling my pulse,
And with no face, as 'twere, outfacing me.
Cries out, I was possest.

Mercy in Governors commended.


No ceremony that to great ones 'longs,
Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
Become them with'one half so good a grace,
As Mercy does.

Precepts against.Iii-Fortune.

-You were us'd

To say, extremity was the trier of spirits;
That common chances common men could bear \
That, when the sea was calm, all boats alike
Shew'd mastership in floating. Fortune's blows,
When most struck home, being gently warded, ci'avei
A noble cunning You were us'd to load me
With precepts, that would make invincible
The heart that eoun'd them.

England Invincible, ^unanimous.

fSHAKBSPEARB.) Enoland never did, nor ever shall Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them —Nought shall make us rue,. If England to itself do rest but true.

Ceremony Insincere.

-ever note, Lucilius,

When love begins to sicken and decay,
It useth an enforced ceremony:
There are no tricks in plain and simple faith;
But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,
Make gallant shew and promise of their mettle;
But when they should endure the bloody spur,

They fall their crest, and, like deceitful jades,
Sink in the trial.

Hounds and Hunting,

{SHAKESPEARE.) I Was .with Hercules and Cadmus once, When, in a wood of Crete, they bay'd the bow With hounds of Sparta. Never did I hear Such gallant chiding; for beside the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near, Seem'd all one mutual cry. I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder! My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flued, so sanded, and their heads are hjrng With ears that sweep away the morning dew, Crook-knee'd, anddew.lapp'd; like Thessalian bull*, Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouths like bells, Each under each: a cry more tunable Was never halloo'd to, nor cheer'd with horn.

Popular Ingratitude and Curiosity.

© Trou bard hearts! You cruel men of Rome!
Know ye not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you clitnb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The live-long day with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome J
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tyber trembled underneath his banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in his concave shores?

The Life of an African^


—.' Behold the African,

That traverses our vast Numidian desarts
In quest of prey, and lives upon his bow:
Coarse are his meals, the fortune of the chjwe,

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