These fov'reign thrones, are all fupply'd, and fill'd, (Her sweet perfections) with one felf-fame King! The Twelfth Night, A. 1. Sc. 1

NECESSARIES OF LIFE.

O reason not the need; our basest beggars
Are in the pooreft things fuperfluous.
Allow not nature more than nature needs;
Man's life is cheap as beaft's. Thou art a lady;
If only to go warm were gorgeous,

Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st,
Which fcarcely keeps thee warm.

King Lear, A. 2. Sc. 12.

NEW CUSTOM S.

New cuftoms,

Though they be ever fo ridiculous,

Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd.

King Henry VIII. A. 1. Sc. 1

NEWS TELLERS.

I faw a fmith stand with his hammer, thus,
The whilft his iron did on the anvil cool,
With open mouth fwallowing a taylor's news;
Who, with his fhears and measure in his hand,
Standing on flippers, which his nimble hafte
Had falfely thruft upon contrary 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.

NIGHT.

King John, A. 4. Sc. 2,

The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve.
Lovers, to bed! 'tis almost fairy time.

A Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 5. Sc. 1.
Ere the bat hath flown

His cloifter'd flight; ere to black Hecate's fummons
The fhard borne beetle, with his drowsy hums,

Hath rung night's yawning peal; there fhall be done
A deed of dreadful note.

Macbeth, A. 3. Sc. 2.

Come,

Come, feeling night,

rf up the tender eye of pitiful day;
d with thy bloody and invifible hand
cel, and tear to pieces, that great bond

ich keeps me pale-Light thickens; and the crow
kes wing to the rooky wood:

od things by day begin to droop and droufe; ile night's black agents to their preys do rouse.

Now the hungry lion roars,

Macbeth, A. 3. Sc. 2.

And the wolf behowls the moon ;
Whilft the heavy ploughman fnores

All with weary task foredone.

Now the wafted brands do glow, Whilft the screech-owl, fcreeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe

In remembrance of a fhroud.

Now it is the time of night,
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his spright,
In the church-way paths to glide:
And we fairies, that do run,
By the triple Hecate's team,

From the presence of the fun,
Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic; not a moufe
Shall disturb this hallow'd house.

Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 5. Sc. 1.

e gaudy, blabbing, and remorseless day crept into the bofom of the fea;

nd now loud howling wolves aroufe the jades hat drag the tragic melancholy night,

ho with their drowsy, flow, and flagging wings, ip dead men's graves; and from their misty jaws eathe foul contagious darkness in the air.

King Henry VI. Part II. A. 4.

is now the very witching time of night,

Sc. I.

"hen church-yards yawn, and hell itself breathes out ontagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood, nd do fuch bitter bufinefs as the day

ould quake to look on. Soft, now to my mother-
heart! lofe not thy nature; let not ever
G

The

The foul of Nero enter this firm bofom:

Let me be cruel, not unnatural:

I will speak daggers to her, but use none.

Hamlet, A. 3. Sc. L

NIGHT IN A CAMP.

From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,
The hum of either army ftilly founds;

That the fix'd fentinels almost receive
The fecret whispers of each other's watch.
Fire answers fire; and through their paly flames
Each battle fees the other's umber'd face.
Steed threatens fteed, in high and boastful neighs
Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents,
The armourers accomplishing the knights,
With bufy hammers clofing rivets up,
Give dreadful note of preparation.

The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll;
And (the third hour of drowfy morning nam'd):
Proud of their numbers, and fecure in foul,
The confident and over-lufty French
Do the low-rated English play at dice';
And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night,
Who, like a foul and ugly witch, does limp
So tedioufly away. The poor condemned English,
Like facrifices, by their watchful fires

Sit patiently, and inly ruminate

(

The morning's danger: and their gefture fad,
Invest in lank-lean cheeks, and war-worn coats,
Prefented them unto the gazing moon

So many horrid ghofts. Who now beholds
The royal captain of this ruin'd band

Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,
Let him cry, Praife and glory on his head!
For forth he goes, and vifits all his host,
Bids them good-morrow with a modest smile,
And calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen.
Upon his royal face there is no note,

How dread an army hath enrounded him;
Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour
Unto the weary and all-watched night,

#Bot

But freshly looks and overbears attaint,
With cheerful femblance and sweet majesty;
That every wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks.
A largefs univerfal, like the fun,

His liberal eye doth give to ev'ry one,
Thawing cold fear.

NOBILITY.

Henry V. A. 4. Sc. 1.

Peace, mafter Marquis-you are malapert;
Your fire-new ftamp of honour is fcarce current,.
O! that your young Nobility could judge

What 'twere to lofe it, and be miserable!

They that ftand high have many blafts to shake them;
And, if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces.

NUN.

Richard III. A. 1. Sc. 3.

Question your defires:

Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice,
You can endure the livery of a Nun;

For

aye to be in fhady cloister mew'd,

To live a barren fifter all your life,

Chaunting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon?
Thrice bleffed they, that mafter fo their blood,
To undergo fuch maiden pilgrimage!
But earthlier happy is the rofe diftill'd,

Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives, and dies in fingle bleffedness.

A Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 5. Sc. 1.

OATH.

No-not an oath: if not the face of men,
The fufferance of our fouls, the time's abufe-
If these be motives weak, break off betimes,
And every man hence to his idle bed;
So let high-fighted tyranny range on,
Till each man drop by lottery. But if these,
As I am fure they do, bear fire enough
To kindle cowards, and to fteel with valour
The melting fpirits of women; then countrymen,

G 2

What

What need we any spur, but our own cause,
To prick us to redrefs? What other bond,
Than fecret Romans, that have spoke the word,
And will not palter; and what other oath
Than honefty to honefty engag'd,

That this fhall be, or we will fall for it?
Swear priests and cowards, and men cautelous,
Old feeble carrions, and fuch fuffering fouls
That welcome wrongs: unto bad causes swear
Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain
The even virtue of our enterprise,

Nor the infuppreffive mettle of our fpirits,
To think, that or our caufe or our performance
Did need an oath; when every drop of blood,
That every Roman bears, and nobly bears,
Is guilty of a feveral bastardy,

If he do break the smallest particle

Of any promise that hath paft from him.

Το

Julius Cæfar, A. z. Sc. 1.

OBEDIENCE.

Be advised, fair maid.

you, your father fhould be as a God,

One that compos'd your beauties; yea, and one,
To whom you are but as a form in wax
By him imprinted; and within his power

To leave the figure, or disfigure it.

A Midsummer Night's Dream, A. 1. Sc. 1.

The hearts of princes kifs obedience,

So much they love it: but to stubborn spirits
They fwell and grow as terrible as storms.

King Henry VIII. A. 3, Sc. 1.

OBSOLETE LAWS.

This new Governor

Awakes me all th' enrolled penalties

Which have, like unfcour'd armour, hung by th' wall
So long, that nineteen zodiacs have gone round,
And none of them been worn; and, for a name,

Now puts the drowfy and neglected act
Freshly on me.

Measure for Measure, A. 1. Sc. 2.

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