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Suit the Action to the Word & the Word to the

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Action; with this special observance, that you

oerftep not the Modefty of Nature.

Shakespeare.

ELEGANT EXTRACTS,

IN VERSE.

BOOK THE THIRD.

DRAMATIC, CHIEFLY FROM SHAKESPEARE.

§1. ALL's WELL THAT ENDS WELL. The Remedy of Evils generally in ourselves.

Advice.

SHAKESPEARE.

BE thou bleft, Bertram, and fucceed thy father,

In manners as in fhape; thy blood and virtue Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness Share with thy birth-right. Love all; truft a few ;

Do wrong to none; be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than ufe; and keep thy friend
Under thy own life's key: be check'd for filence,
But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more
will
[down,
That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck
Fall on thy head!

Too ambitious Love.

I am undone; there is no living, none, If Bertram be away. It were all one, That I fhould love a bright particular star, And think to wed it, he is fo above me! In his bright radiance and collateral light Muft I be comforted, not in his sphere. Th' ambition in my love thus plagues itfelf: The hind, that wou'd be mated by the lion, Muft die for love. 'Twas pretty, tho' a plague, To fee him every hour; to fit and draw His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, In our heart's table: heart, too capable Of every line and trick of his sweet favour! But now he's gone, and my adolatrous fancy Muft fanctify his relics.

A parafitical, vain Coward.

I know him a notorious liar; Think him a great way fool, folely a coward; Yet these fix'd evils fit to fit in him, That they take place, when virtue's fteely bones Look bleak in the cold wind with all full oft we fee

:

Cold wisdom waiting on fuperfluous folly.

Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we afcribe to Heav'n. The fated sky

Gives us free fcope; only, doth backward pull

Our flow defigns, when we ourselves are dull.
Impoffible be strange attempts to those
That weigh their pain in fenie: and do fuppofe
What hath been, cannot be. Whoever ftrove
To fhew her merit, that did mifs her love?
Character of a noble Courtier, by an old
Cotemporary.

now

King. I would I had that corporal soundness As when thy father and myself in friendship First tried our foldierfhip! He did look far Into the fervice of the time, and was Difcipled of the braveft. He lafted long; But on us both did haggish age fteal on, And wore us out of act. It much repairs me To talk of your good father. In his youth He had the wit, which I can well obferve To-day in our young Lords; but they may jeft, Till their own fcorn return to them unnoted, Ere they can hide their levity in honour, So like a courtier; no contempt or bitterness Were in him: pride and fharpnefs if there were, His equal had awak'd them and his honour, Clock to itself, knew the true minute, when Exception bid him speak, and at that time His tongue obey'd the hand. Who were below He us'd as creatures of another place, [him And bow'd his eminent tops to their low ranks, Making them proud of his humility, In their poor praise he humbled: fuch a man. Might be a copy to these younger times; Which, followed well, would demonftrate them But goers backward. Would I were with him!-He would always fay

[now

(Methinks I hear him, now; his plaufive words

b

He

He scatter'd not in ears; but grafted them

Of the none-fparing war? And is it I [thou To grow there, and to bear) 'Let me not live-That drive thee from the fportive court, where Thus his good melancholy oft began, On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, When it was out- Let me not live,' quoth he, After my flame lacks oil; to be the fnuff Of younger fpirits, whole apprehenfive fenfes All but new things difdain; whofe judgments [ftancies Mere fathers of their garments, whole conExpire before their fashions'-This he withed. I, after him, do after him with too,

are

Walt hot at with fair eyes, to be the mark
Of moaky mufkets? O you leaden meffengers,
That ride upon the violent fpeed of fire,
Fly with falie aim; pierce the ftill-moving air,
That fings with piercing, do not touch iny
lord!
Whoever fhoots at him, I fet him there:
Whoever charges on his forward breaft,
I am the caitiff that do hold him to it:
And tho' I kill him not, I am the cause
His death was fo effected. Better 'twere,

-Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home,-I met the rav'ning lion, when he roar'd

I quickly were diffolved from my hive,

To give fome labourer room.

Idolatrous Worship.

-Thus, Indian like

Religious in mine error, I adore

The fun that looks upon his worshipper,
But knows of him no more!

Mean Inftruments often fuccessful.
What I can do, can do no'hurt to try,
Since fet
you up your reft 'gainst remedy.
He that of greatelt works is finisher,
Oft does them by the weakest minister;
So holy writ in babes hath judgment fhewn,
When judges have been babes, great floods
have flown

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From fimple fources; and great seas have dry'd;
When miracles have by the greatest been deny'd.
Oft expectation fails, and inoft oft there,
Where most it promifes; and oft it hits
Where hope is coldeft, and defpair molt fits.
Honour due to perfonal Virtue, not to Birth.
Strange is it, that our bloods, [together,
Whofe colour, weight, and heat, pour'd out
Would quite confound diftinction, yet stand off
In difference, fo mighty.. If the be
All that is virtuous, fave what thou diflik't, -
A poor phyfician's daughter, thou diflik'st
Of virtue for a name. But do not fo-
From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,
The place is dignified by the doer's deed.
Where great addition fwells, and virtue none,
It is a dropfied honour; good alone
Is good, without a name; vileness is fo:
The property, by what it is, fhould go,
Not by the title. She is young, wife, fair;
In thefe, to nature he's immediate heir;
And thefe breed honour: That is honour's fcorn,
Which challenges itfelf as honour's born,
And is not like the fire. Honours beit thrive,

When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our fore-goers: the mere word's a flave
Debaucht on every tomb, on every grave;
A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb,
Where duft and dam'd oblivion is the tomb
Of honour'd bones ineed.

Self Accufation of too great Love.
Poor lord is't I

That chafe thee from thy country, and expofe
Thofe tender limbs of thine to the event

With fharp constraint of hunger: better 'twere
That all the miferies, which nature owes,
Were mine at once. No, come thou home,
Roufillon,

1

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Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great,
'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more,
But I will eat, and drink, and fleep, as foft
As captain fhall; fimply the thing I am [gart,
Shall make me live. Who knows himself a brag-
Let him fear this; for it will come to pafs,
That every braggart shall be found an afs.
Ruft, fword! cool, blushes! and, Parolles,
live.
[thrive:
Safeft in fhame! being fool'd, by fool'ry
There's place and means for every man alive.
The Rafbness of Youth excused.

I beseech your majefty to make it
Natural rebellion, done in the blaze of youth,
When oil and fire, too ftrong for reafon's force,
O'erbear it and burn on.

What's loft moft valued.
Praifing what is loft,

Makes the remembrance dear.

Against Delay.

Let's take the inftant by the forward top For we are old, and on our quick'ft decrees Th' inaudible and noifelefs foot of time Steals, ere we can effect them.

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