This deed unfhapes me quite, makes me unpregnant,
And dull to all proceedings. A defloured maid!
And by an eminent body that enforc'd
The law against it! But that her tender fhame
Will not proclaim against her maiden lofs,
How might the tongue me! yet reason dares her:
For my authority bears a credent bulk ;
That no particular fcandal once can touch,
But it confounds the breather. He fhould have liv'd,
Save that his riotous youth, with dangerous fenfe,
Might, in the times to come, have ta'en revenge;
By fo receiving a dishonour'd life,
With ransom of fuch fhame. Would yet he had liv'd!
Alack, when once our grace we have forgot,
Nothing goes right; we would, and we would not.
Meafure for Meafure, A. 4. Sc. 4›
Oh! when the laft account 'twixt heaven and earth
Is to be made, then fhall this hand and feal
Witness against us to damnation.
How oft the fight of means to do ill deeds
Makes deeds ill done! for, hadft not thou been by,
A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd,
Quoted and fign'd to do a deed of fhame,
This murder had not come into my mind.
But, taking note of thy abhorr'd afpect,
Finding thee fit for bloody villany,
Apt, liable to be employed in danger,
I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death,
And thou, to be endeared to a king,
Mad'ft it no conscience to destroy a prince.
Hadft thou but fhook thy head, or made a paufe,
When I fpake darkly what I purpofed;
Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon ny face,
Or bid me tell my tale in exprefs words;
Deep fhame had ftruck me dumb, made me break off
And thofe thy fears might have wrought fear in me:
But thou didit understand me by my figns,
And didft in figns again parley with fin;
Yea, without ftop, didft let thy heart confent,
H 6
And confequently thy rude hand to act
The deed which both our tongues held vile to name. Ibid.
All on the wanton rushes lay you down,
And reft your gentle head upon her lap;
And she will fing the fong that pleaseth you,
And on your eyelids crown the God of fleep,
Charming your blood with pleafing heaviness;
Making fuch diff'rence betwixt day and night,
The hour before the heavenly harness'd team
Begins his golden progress in the east.
Henry IV. Part I. A. 3. Sc. 1.
REPROACH.
You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise
By all of us; and the fair foul herself
Weigh'd between lothness and obedience, at
Which end o' the beam fhe'd bow.
I fear for ever. Milan and Naples have
More widows in them of this bufinefs-making,
Than we bring men to comfort them;
The Tempeft, A. 2. Sc. 1.
Why have you stol'n upon us thus? You come not
Like Cafar's fifter; the wife of Antony
Should have an army for an usher, and
The neighs of horfe to tell of her approach,
Long ere fhe did appear: the trees by th' way
Should have borne men, and expectation fainted,
Longing for what it had not: nay, the dust
Should have afcended to the roof of heaven,
Rais'd by your populous troops. But you are come
A market-maid to Rome, and have prevented
The oftentation of our love; which, left unfhewn,
Is often left unlov'd: we should have met you
By sea and land, fupplying every stage
With an augmented greeting. Antony and Cleop. A. 3. Sc. 5.
REPUTATION.
The purest treasure mortal times afford
Is fpotlefs reputation. That away,
Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay.
A jewel in a ten times barr'd-up cheft,
Is a bold fpirit in a loyal breaft.
Mine honour is my life; both grow in one:
Take honour from me, and my life is done.
Good name in man or woman, dear my
Is the immediate jewel of their fouls.
Who fteals my purfe, fteals trash; 'tis fomething, nothing-
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been flave to thousands:
But he that filches from me my good name,
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.
Let it be fo; thy truth then be thy dower:
For by the facred radiance of the fun,
The myfteries of Hecate, and the night,
By all the operations of the orbs,
From whom we do exift, and cease to be,
Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
Propinquity, and property of blood,
And as a stranger to my heart and me
Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barb'rous Scythian,
Or he that makes his generation meffes
To gorge his appetite, fhall to my bofom
Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved,
As thou, my fometime daughter. King Lear, A. 1. Sc. 2.
In your fine frame hath love no quality?
If the quick fire of youth light not your mind,
You are no maiden, but a monument:
When you are dead, you should be fuch a one
you are now, for you are cold and ftern;
And now you should be as your mother was,
When your sweet self was got.
All's Well that Ends Well, A. 4. Sc. 2.
Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
And call upon my foul within the house;
Write royal cantos of contemned love,
And fing them loud even in the dead of night;
Hollow your name to the reverberant hills,
And make the babbling goffip of the air
Cry out, Olivia! O, you fhould not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
But you should pity me.
Twelfth Night, A. 1. Sc. 5.
RESOLUTION.
If they speak but truth of her,
Thefe hands fhall tear her; if they wrong her honour,
The proudest of them fhall well hear of it.
Time hath not yet so dry'd this blood of mine,
Nor age fo eat up my invention,
Nor fortune made fuch havock of my means,
Nor my bad life reft me fo much of friends,
But they fhall find awak'd in fuch a kind,
Both ftrength of limb, and policy of mind,
Ability in means, and choice of friends,
To quit me of them thoroughly.
Much Ado about Nothing, A. 4. Sc. Iv
-Wherefore do you droop? why look you fad?
Be great in act, as you have been in thought:
Let not the world fee fear and fad diftruft
Govern the motion of a kingly eye:
Be ftirring as the time; be fire with fire;
Threaten the threat'ner, and outface the brow
Of bragging horror: fo fhall inferior eyes,
That borrow their behaviours from the great,
Grow great by your example; and put on
The dauntless fpirit of refolution.
Away, and glifter like the god of war,
When he intendeth to become the field.,
Shew boldness and afpiring confidence.
Tradus'd by ignorant tongues, which neither know
My faculties, nor perfon, yet will be
The chronicle of my doing; let me fay
"Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake That virtue muft go through. We must not ftint
Our neceffary actions, in the fear
To cope malicious cenfurers, which ever
As ravenous fishes do a veffel follow
That is new trimm'd, but benefit no farther
Than vainly longing.-What we oft do beft,
By fick interpreters, once weak ones, is
Not ours, or not allow'd-what worst, as oft
Hitting a proper quality, is cried up
For our best act. If we fhall ftand ftill
In fear, our motion will be mock'd, or carp'd at.
We should take root here where we fit, or fit
State-ftatues only.
-How poor an instrument
May do a noble deed! He brings me liberty.
My refolution's plac'd, and I have nothing
Of woman in me: now from head to foot
I'm marble conftant; now the fleeting moon
No planet is of mine.
Antony and Cleopatra, A. 5. Sc. 5.
Sweet, roufe yourself: and the weak, wanton Cupid
Shall from your neck unloofe his am'rous fold,
And, like a dew-drop from a lion's mane,
Troilus and Crefida, A. 3. Sc. 8.
O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower;
Or chain me to fome steepy mountain's top,
Where roaring bears and favage lions roam;
Or fhut me nightly in a charnel-house,
O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
With reeky thanks, and yellow chapless skulls;
Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;
(Things, that to hear them nam'd have made me tremble)
And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live an unftain'd wife to my fweet love.
Romeo and Juliet, A. 4. Sc. 1.
I afk, that I might waken reverence,
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush,
Modeft as morning, when the coldly eyes
The youthful Phabus. Troilus and Crefida, A. 1. Sc. 6.
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