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Fear and terror are but slender bonds of attachment; when you remove them, as fear ceases, terror begins. All the incitements of victory are on our side; no wives inflame the Romans; no parents are there to call shame on their flight; they have no country, or it is elsewhere. Few in number, fearful from ignorance, gazing on unknown woods and seas, the gods have delivered them, shut in and bound, into your hands. Let not their vain aspect, the glitter of silver and gold, which neither covers nor wounds, alarm you. In the very line of the enemy we shall find our friends; the Britons will recognize their own
"ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE»
Jaques - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms :
And then, the whining schoolboy, with his satchel,
And shining morning face, creeping like snail, Unwillingly to school: And then, the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress's eyebrow: Then, a soldier, Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth: And then, the justice,
In fair round belly, with good capon lined,
- From As You Like It, Act II., Scene 7.
cause; the Gauls will recollect their former freedom; the other Germans will desert them, as lately the Usipii have done. No objects of terror are behind them; naught but empty castles, ageridden colonies, dissension between cruel masters and unwilling slaves, sick and discordant cities.
Here is a leader, an army; there are tributes and payments, and the badges of servitude, which to bear forever, or instantly to avenge, lies in the power of your arms. Go forth, then, into the field. Think of your ancestors! Think of your posterity!
- Agricola, Chapter 30-2.
"A FOOL, A FOOL!-I MET A FOOL» Jaques A fool, a fool!-I met a fool i' the forest,
A motley fool; - a miserable world!
As I do live by food, I met a fool;
And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms,—and yet a motley fool. "Good-morrow, fool, quoth I: "No, sir," quoth
"Call me not fool till Heaven hath sent me fortune : "
And then he drew a dial from his poke;
Thus may we see,* quoth he, "how the world
'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine;
A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear.
O worthy fool! one that hath been a courtier ;
William Shakespeare — Continued
The why is plain as way to parish church:
Cleanse the foul body of the infected world,
- From "As You Like It, Act II., Scene 7.
"Now Is THE WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT »
Gloster-Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds, that lower'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings; Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front,
And now,- instead of mounting barbed steeds,
But I,-that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
-Richard III., Act I, Scene 1.
THE DREAM OF CLARENCE
Clarence-O, I have passed a miserable night. So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days; So full of dismal terror was the the time. Methought, that I had broken from the Tower, And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy, And, in my company, my brother Gloster; Who from my cabin tempted me to walk Upon the hatches, thence we look'd toward England,
And cited up a thousand heavy times,
Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard,
O Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown!
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept
Brakenbury-Had you such leisure in the time of death
To gaze upon these secrets of the deep?
Clarence-Methought I had, and often did I
To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood
Brakenbury-Awaked you not with this sore agony?
Clarence-0, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life;
O, then began the tempest to my soul!
Who cried aloud, — What scourge for perjury
William Shakespeare — Continued
That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury ;Seize on him, furies, take him to your torments!"—
With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends
- From Richard III., Act I, Scene 4.
THE FALL OF WOLSEY
His greatness is a ripening,- nips his root.
But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride
Cromwell-O my lord,
Must I then leave you? must I needs forego
Wolsey-Cromwell, I did not think to shed a
In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me,
And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be;
Say, Wolsey,- that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor,
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in. A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it Mark but my fall, and that, that ruin'd me.
Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell,
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king; And,--Pry'thee, lead me in:
There take an inventory of all I have,
To the last penny; 'tis the king's my robe,
I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but served my God with half the zeal
I served my king, he would not in mine age
Cromwell-Good sir, have patience.
Wolsey-So I have.
The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell.
[Exeunt. -From Henry VIII, Act III., Scene 2.
ANTONY OVER THE BODY OF CÆSAR
Antony-O mighty Cæsar! dost thou lie so low ! Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure?- Fare thee well. I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, Who else must be let blood, who else is rank; If I myself, there is no hour so fit
As Cæsar's death-hour; nor no instrument
Of half that worth, as those your swords, made
With the most noble blood of all this world.
I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard,
Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and
Fulfill your pleasure. Live a thousand years, I shall not find myself so apt to die;
No place will please me so, no mean of death,
That I did love thee, Cæsar, oh! 'tis true;
Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand,
William Shakespeare - Continued
O pardon me, thou piece of bleeding earth,
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
-From "Julius Cæsar,” Act III., Scene 1.
BRUTUS ON THE DEATH OF CÆSAR Brutus-Romans, countrymen, and lovers! Hear me for my cause; and be silent, that you may hear. Believe me for mine honor; and have respect to mine honor that you may believe. Censure me in your wisdom; and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Cæsar's,-to him I say, that Brutus's love to Cæsar was no less than his. If, then, that friend demand why Brutus rose against Cæsar, this is my answer: Not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cæsar were living, and die all slaves, than that Cæsar were dead, to live all freemen? As Cæsar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honor him, but as he was ambitious, I slew him. There are tears, for his love; joy, for his fortune honor, for his valor; and death, for his ambition! Who is here so base, that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude, that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply
Citizens- None, Brutus, none !
Then none have I offended. I have done done no more to Cæsar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offenses enforced, for which he suffered death.
Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony; who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth: As which of you shall not? With this I depart: That, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
- From Julius Cæsar,” Act III., Scene 2.
ANTONY'S FUNERAL ORATION OVER CÆSAR
Antony- Friends, Romans, Countrymen! lend
me your ears;
I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him.
So are they all! all honorable men, Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me,But Brutus says he was ambitious:
And Brutus is an honorable man!
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept. Ambition should be made of sterner stuff!
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
You all did see, that, on the Lupercal,
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke ;
But yesterday, the word of Cæsar might
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now;
'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent,-
William Shakespeare — Continued
And in his mantle muffling up his face
Even at the base of Pompey's statue,
HAMLET TO THE PLAYERS
Hamlet-Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue; but, if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor, do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus: but use all gently; for, in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. Oh! it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious, periwig-pated fellow, tear a passion to tatters, -to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings; who, for the most part,
* With traitors" in Valpy and other texts.
are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb show and noise. I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it out-Herods Herod. Pray you avoid it.
Be not too tame, neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor; suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature; for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, -whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to Nature; to show virtue her own feature; scorn her own image; and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of which one must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O! there be players that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably!
From Hamlet, » Act III., Scene 2.
Hamlet-To be or not to be-that is the question!
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
No more ;-and, by a sleep, to say we end
For, in that sleep of death, what dreams may
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,