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Under the green wood tree
Wlio loves to lie with me
And tune his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat.
Come hither, come hither, come hither :
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither., come hither :
Here shall he see
No enemy
Put winter and rough weather. 4


Act. Ill Sc. II.

Sir, I am a true labourer : I earn that I eat, get that
I wear; owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness ;
glad of other men's good, content with my harm; and
the greatest of my pride is, to see my ewes graze and
my lambs suck. 5


There's nothing situate under heaven's eye
But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky ;
The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
Are their males' subjects and at their controls.
Men, mor divine, the masters of all these,
Lords of the wide world, and wild wat'ry seas,
Indued with intellectual sense and souls,,.
Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls,
Are masters to their females, and their lords :
Then, let your will attend on their accords. 6



Act III. Sc III.

And often, to our comfort, shall we find
The sharded beetle in a safer hold
Than is the full-winged eagle. O, this life
Is, nobler than attending for a check ;
Richer than doing nothing for a bribe;
Prouder than rustling- in unpaid-for silk,
Such gain the cap of him that makes'en) fine
Yet keeps his book uncrossed. No life to ours. 7

Act IV Sc II.

Cowards father cowards, and base things sire base;
Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace. 8

If I do lie, and do
No harm by it. though t-he gods hear, I hope
They 'll pardon it 9



Act V. Sc. V.

it is I.
That all the abhorred things o' the earth amend,
By being worse than they. - v " " (1)- 10

HAMLET . Act I Sc. II.

all that lives must die, . "' -
Passing through nature to eternity. (2)

Act II. Sc. ll.

there is nothing either good .ox bad,' but thinking
makes it so : 11.

I have of late but wherefore I know not lost all my
mirth, foregone all custom of exercises; and, indeed, it
goes so heavily with my disposition, that this goodly
frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory ;
this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this
brave o'erhangirig firmament, this majestieal -roof
fretted with golden fire, why, ifappeareth no other
thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of
vapowrs. What a piece of work is man ! How noble
in reason ! how infinite in faculty ! in form and
moving how express and admirable ! in action how
like an angel ! in apprehension how like a god ! the
beatrty^of the world the paragon of animals ! And yet,
to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights'
not me - no, nor" woman neither, though by your smil-
ing you seem to say so. .



Act iii, Sc i.

To be, or not to be, that is the question :
Whether 't is nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them ? To die to sleep,
No more: and, by a sleep, to say we end
The heart ashe, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to 3 9 t is a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep:
To sleep ! perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect 3
That makes calamity of so long life :
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.
The insolence of-office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear;
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something alter death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of ?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale castlfof thpught;
And enterprises of great pitch and moihent,
With this regard, their currents; turn awry,
And loose the name of acton. 13

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Act III. Sc 1I1.

Whereto serves mercy,
Bist to confront the visage of offence ?
And what's in prayer, but this two fold force.
To be forestalled, ere we come to fall,
Or pardoned being down ? Then P 11 look up;
My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer
Can serve my turn ? ""Forgive me my foul murder" ?
That cannot be; since I am still possessed
Of those effects for which I did the murder,
My crown., mine own ambition, and my queen,
May one be pardoned, and retain the offence ?
In the corrupted currents of this world
Offenc's gilded hand may shove by justice ;
And off t is seen, the wicked prize itself
Buys out the law : but't is not so above ;
There is no shuffling, there the action lies
In his true nature, and we ourselves compelled,
Even to the teeth and forehead" of our faults,
To give in evidence. 14



But life, being weary of these wordly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
If I know this, know all the world besides,
That part of tyranny that 1 do bear
I can shake off at pleasure. 15

But thoughts the slaves of life, and life time's fool,
And time that takes survey of all the world,
Must have a stop. 16

PART II Act. i. Sc. 1II.

Past and to come, seems best ; things present, worst,

Act. iv. Sc. iv.

How quickly Nature falls into revolt
When gold becomes her object !
For this the foolish over-careful fathers
Have broke their sleeps with thought, their brains
with care,
Their bones with industry ; for this they have
Engrossed and piled up the cankered heaps
Of strange-achieved gold ; for this they have
Been thoughtful to invest their sons with arts,


And martial exercise : when, like the bee,
Culling from every flower the virtuous sweets,
Our thighs packed with wax, our mouths with honey,
We bring it to the hive ; and, like the bees,
Are murdered for our pains. This bitter taste
Yield his engrossments to the eliding father. 18

HENRY V. Act 1II. Sc. V1I.

We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs : 19

Act. v. Sc. ii.

A good leg will fall ; a straight back will stoop ; a
black beard will turn white ; a curled pate will grow
bald ; a fair face will wither ; a full eye will wax hol-
low : but a good heart, is the sun and the moon ;. or
rather the sun and not the moon; for it shines bright
and never changes, but keeps his course truly. 20



Let never day nor night unhallowed pass,
But still remember what the Lord hath done. 21

Act. iv. Sc. vii.

Large gifts have I bestowed on, learned clerks,,
Because my book preferred me to the king;
And seeing ignorance is the curse of God,
Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven, 22

PART - III Act. I. Sc IV.

Open thy gate of mercy <? gracious God !
My soul flies through these wounds to seek outthee. 23

Act. ii. Sc. ii.

But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear,
That things ill got had ever bad success ?
And happy always was it for that son
Whose father for his hoarding went to hell ?
Fll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind ;
And would my father had left me no more ;
For all the rest is held at such a rate
As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep,
Than in possession any jot of pleasure. 24



Act. ii. Sc. V.

This battle fares like to the morning's war,
When dying clouds contend with growing light ;
What time the shepherd,, blowing of his nails.,
Can neither call it perfect day,, nor night.
Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea.
Forced by the tide to combat with the wind :
New sways it that way, like the self same sea,
Forced to retire by the fury of the wind :
Now, one the better, then, another best ;
Some time, the flood prevails; and then, the wind;
Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast,
Yet neither conqueror., nor conquered :
So is the equal, poise of this fell war.
Mere, en this molehill, will I sit me down.
To whom God will, there be the victory ;
For Margaret my queen and Clifford too,
Have chid me from the battle ; swearing both,
They prosper best of all when I am thence,
'Would I were dead I if God's good will were so ;
For what is in this world but grief and woe ?
O God ! methinks, it were a happy life,
To be no better than a homely swain ;
To sit upon a hill, as T do now,
To carve out dials qvaintly, point by point,
Thereby to see the minutes how they run,
How many make the hour full complete ;
How many hours bring about the day :
How many days will finish up the year ;
How many years a mortal man may live.
When this is known,, then to divide the times :
So many hours must I tend my flock ;
So many hours must I take my rest ;'
So many hours must I contemplate ;'
So many hours must I sport myself ;
So many days my ewes have been with young ;
So many weeks ere the poor fools will can ;
So many years ere I shall shear the fltece : ' : 25


So minutes, 'hours, days, months, and years,
Passed ever to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave,
Ah, what a life were this ! how sweet ! how lovely !
Gives not the hawthorn-bush a sweeter shade
To shepherds looking on their silly sheep.,
Than doth a rich- embroidered canopy
To kings that feay their subjects' treachery ?
O, yes, it doth ; a thousand-fold it doth.
And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds,
His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle,
His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade,
All which secure and sweetly he enjoys,
Is far beyond a prince's delicates,
His viands sparkling in a golden cup,
His body couched in a curious bed,
When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him.


Act. iii. Sc. i.

My crown is in rny heart, not on my head ;
Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones,
Nor to be seen : my crown is called content ;
A crown it is, that seldom kings enjoy. 26


Act. V.Sc. II.

Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust ?
And, live we how we can, yet die we must. 27

HENRY VIII. Act. II. Sc. Ill

It Is better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perked up in a glistering grief,
And wear a goldea sorrow. 28

Act, III. Sc. II.

Fare well ! a long farewell, to all my greatness !
This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him :
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea of glory,
But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride
At length broke under me, and now has left me
Weary, and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me,
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye :
I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours !
Had I but served my God with half the zeal
1 served my King, He would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies,


Act. V. Sc. iii.

Love and meekness lord,
Become a churchman better than ambition. 30

KING JHON Act. Ill Sc. IV.
There's nothing in this world can make me joy.
Life is as tedius as a twice-told tale
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;
And bitter shame hath spoiled the sweet world's taste, 31

O 3 reason not the need; our basest beggars
Are in the poorest thing superfluous :
Allow not nature more than nature needs
Man's life is cheap as beast's. 32



Act. Ill Sc. IV.

Poor naked wretches, wheresoever you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these ? O, I have ta'en
Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou niay'st shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just. 33

Act. iv. Sc. i.

Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens* plagues
Have humbled to all strokes : that I am wretched
Makes thee the happier - heavens, deal so still !
Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man
That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
Because lie cloth not feel, fell your power quickly;
So distribution should undo fexcess,
And each man have enough : 34


Sc. vi.

They flatter'd me like a dog; and told me, 1 had white
hairs in my beard, ere the black ones were there. To
say 'ay' and f no* to every thing I said ! 'Ay, and 'no*
too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet
me once, and the wind to make me chatter ; when the
thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found
'em 5 there I smelt 'em out. Go to, they are not men
of their words : they told me I was everything, 't is a
lie, 1 am not ague-proof. 35

Comfort ? s in heaven ; and we are on the earth
Where nothing lives but crosses, care, and grief. 36

Act. v. Sc. vi.

I 'll make a voyage to the Holy Land,
To wash this blood off from my guilty hand. 37


O momentary grace of mortal men,
Which we more hunt for than the grace of God !
Who builds kis hopes in air of your fair looks,
Lives like a drunken sailor en a mast,
Ready, with every nod, to tumble down
Into the fatal bowels of the deep. 38



Act. V. Sc iii.

O Thou, whose captain I account myself,
Look on my forces with a gracious eye; '
Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath,
That they may crush down with a heavy fall
The usurping helmets of our adversaries ! , ,
Make us thy ministers of chastisement,
That we may praise Thee in the victory !
To Thee I do commend my watchful soul, :
Ere-Ilet fall the windows of mine eyes :
Sleeping arid waking, G, defend me still! 39


Naught's had, all's spent.
Where our desire is got without content :
T is safer to be that which we destory
Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. (1)


Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good
But graciously to know I am no better. (2) 40



Act iii. Sc. i.

Be absolute for death ; either death or life
Shall thereby be ths sweeter. Reason thus with life:
If 1 do lose thee, I do lose a thing
That none but fools would keep ; a breath thou art,
Servile to all skyey influences
That dost this habitation,, where thou keep'st,
Hourly inflict : merely, thou art death's fool ;
For him thou labour's! by thy flight to shun,
And yet runn'st toward him still Thou art not noble ;
For all the accommodations that thou bear'st
Are nursed by baseness. Thou art by no means valiant;
For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork
Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep,
And that thou oft provok'st, yet grossly fear'st
Thy death, which is no more. Thou, *rt not thyself ;
For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains
That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not ;
For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to gat,
And what thou hast, forgett'st. Thou art not certain ;
For thy complexion shifts to strange affects,
After the moon. If thou art rich, thou art poor ;
For, like an ass whose baek with ingots bows,
Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none ;
For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire,
The more effusion of thy proper loins,
Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum,
For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age


But, as it ware, an, after-dinner's sleep,
Dreaming on both ; for all thy blessed youth
Becomes as aged and doth beg the alms
Of palsied el d ; and when tliou 9 rt old and rich,
Thou 5 st neither heat/ affection, limb, nor beauty,
To make thy riches pleasant, What *s yet in this,
That bears the name of life ? Yet in this life
Lie hid more thousand deaths : yet death we fear,
That makes these od ds all even. 41



for aught I see, they are as sick, that surfeit with too
much as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean
happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean : super-
fluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency
lives longer. 42

Act. fv, Sc. i.

Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you;
For herein Fortune shows herself more kind
Than is her custom : it is still her use
To let the wretched man outlive his wealth
To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow
An age of poverty; from which lingering penance
Of such misery doth she cut me off. 43

To you your father should be as a god;
One that composed your beauties; 44

OTHELLO Act i. Sc. iii

To mourn a mischief that is past and gone
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preserved when furture takes
Patience her injury a mockery makes.
The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief -
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief. 45


Act. ii. Sc. i.

If it were now to die,
'T were now to be most happy ; for, I fear,
My soul hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate,

Sc. III.

How poor are they that have not patience !
What wound did ever heal but by degrees ?

Act. IV. Sc. III.

Heaven me such uses send,
Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend !
PERICLES Act. 1 Sc. 1.

For death remembered should be like a mirror
Who tells us life's but breath, to trust it, error. 49

Act. III. Sc. III.

We cannot but obey
The powers above us. 50



Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor :
For 9 t is the mind that makes the body rich ;
And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
So- honor peer eth in the meanest habit.
What, is the jay more precious than the lark,
Because his feathers are more beautiful ? (1)

Act. v. Sc. ii.

Fie, fie ! unknit that threatening unkind brow,
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor :
It blots thy beauty, as frosts do bite the meads,
Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
And in no sense is meet or amiable.
A woman, moved is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty ;
And,^ while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign ; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance, commits his body
To painful labour, both by sea and land ;
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe ;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands,
But love, fair looks, and true obedience ;
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband ;
And., when she 5 s f reward, peevish, -sullen, sour,'
And not obedient to his honest will,


What is she, but a foul contending rebel,
And graceless traitor to her loving lord ?
I am ashamed, that women are so simple
To offer war, where they should kneel for peace ;
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions, and our hearts,
Should well agree with our external parts. (2) 51


TEMPEST Act. V. Sc. I.
Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take
care for himself, for all is but fortune. 52

Immortal gods, I srave no pelf
I pray for no man but myself.
Grant I may never prove so fond
To trust man on his oath or bond;
Or a harlot for her weeping;
Or a dog that seems a-sleeping;
Or a keeper with my freedom;
Or my friends, if I should need 'em, (1)



Act. IV. Sc. II.

Who would not wish to be. from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to misery and contempt ? (2) 53


All is oblique ;
There f s nothing level in. our cursed natures, . .
But direct villainy. Therefore, be abhorred
All feasts, societies, and throngs of men ! 54

Your greatest want is, you want much of meat.
Why should you want ? Behold,, the earth hath roots;
Within this' mile break forth a' hundred springs ; . '
The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips ;
The bounteous housewife. Nature, on each bush
Lays her full mess before you. Want ! why want ? 55


Fate, show thy force : ourselves we do not owe ;
What is decreed must be, 56

We profess
Ourselves to be the slaves of -chance, and flies
Of every wind that blows. 57



What win I, if I gain the thing I seek ?
A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy,
Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week,
Or sells eternity to get a toy ?
For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy ?
Or what fond beggar, but to touch "the crown,
Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down ? 58


Tir'd with all these, for restful death I cry ;
As, to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honour shamefully misplacM,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
And strength by limping sway disabled,
And art made tongue tied by authority,
And folly (doctor-like) controlling skill,
And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill : 59

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Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead,
Exctssive grief the enemy to the living. 1


O sovereign mistress of true melancholy,
The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me,
That life, a very rebel to my will,
May hang no longer on me : throw my heart
Against the flint and hardness of my fault,
Which,, being dried with grief, will break to powder,
And finish all foul thoughts. 2

Sc. xiii.

Noblest of men, woo't die ?
Hast thou no care of me ? Shall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy absence is
No better than a sty ? O ! see, my women,
The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord !
O, withered, is the garland of the war,
The soldier's pole is fallen : young boys and girls
Are level now with men ; the odds is gone,
And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting moon. 3


AS YOU IT , Act, L Sc. it.

You know,' my father hath no child but I, nor none is
like to have; and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt be his
heir : for what he hath taken away from thy father
perforce, I will render thee again in affection : by
mine honour I will ; and when I break that oath, let
me turn monster. Therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear
Rose, be merry. 4

The little strength that I have, I would it were with
you. 5

My father loved sir Rowland as his soul,
And all the world was of my father's mind :
Had I before known this young man Ms son,
I should have given him tears unto entreaties,
Ere he should thus have ventured.

Wear this for me; one out of suits with fortune,
That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. 7

Act. ii Sc. vii

Thou seest, we are not all alone unhappy :
This wide and universal theatre
Presents more woeful pageants than the
Wherein we play in 8



Act. v. Sc ii

O, how bitter a thing It' is to look Into happiness
through another man's eyes ! 9

COMEDY OF ERRORS Act. iii Sc. ii

Alas, poor women, make us but believe.,
Being compact of credit, that you. love us ;
Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve ;
We in your motion turn and you may move us. 10
CYMBELINE Act. i Sc. iii

Imo. Than waved his handkerchief ?
As. And kissed it, madam.
/mo. Senseless linen, happier therein than I ! --
And that was all ? 10

I would have broke mine eye-strings, cracked them, but
To look upon him, till the diminution
Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle ;
Nay, followed him, till he had raeltd from
The smallness of a gnat to air; and then
Have turned mine eye, and wept, 11



Sc. vi.

A father cruel* and a step-dame false ;
A foolish suitor to a wedded lady,
That hath her husband banished : O 5 that husband !
My supreme crown of grief I and. those repeated , .
Vexations of it ! Had 1 been thief-stolen,
As my two brothers, happy ! but most miserable ' '
Is the desire that's glorious : blessed be -those,
How mean sce'er, that have their honest wills,
Which seasons comfort, " 12

Act. iii Sc. iv.

False to his bed ! what is it to be false ?
To lie in watch there, arid to think on him ?
To weep 'twixt clock and clock? if sleep charge nature,
To break it with a fearful dream of him,
And cry myself awake ? that's false to's'bed, is it ? 13


Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion ; 14

Act. iv, Sc. ii.


Fear no more the heat o* the sun*
Nor the furious winter's rages ;
Thou thy worldly task hast done.
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages : .
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers come to dust.
Fear no more the frown o* the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke ;
Care no more to clothe and eat ;
To thee the reed is as the oak :
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone ;
Fear not slander, censure rash ;
Thou hast finished joy and moan :
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust
No exorciser harm thee !
Nor no witchcraft charm thee !
Ghost unlaid forbear thee !
Nothing ill come near thee !
Quiet consummation have ;
And renowned be thy grave ! 15


HAMLET ; Act<L Sc.ll
Seems, madam ! nay. It is ; I know not 'seems*.
? T is not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief,
That can denote me truly : these, indeed, seem,
For they are actions that a man might play :
But 1 have that within, which passeth show ;
These but the trappings and the suits of woe, 16

The chariest maid is prodigal enough, . ; . ,
If she unmask her beauty to the moon ;
Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes ;" ' "
The canker galls the infants of the .spring
Too oft before their buttons be disclosed :
And in the morn and liquid dew of .youth
Contagious blastments are most imminent.
Be wary then ; best safety lies in fear :
Youth to Itself rebels, though ngjie else near, - 17


Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar;
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried.
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel ;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel : but, being in,
Bear 5 t that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thine ear, but few tky voice ;
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy ; rich, not gaudy :
For the apparel oft proclaims the man;
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be ;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend.
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry..
This above all, to thine ownself be true;
Thou canst not then be false to any man. 18


Act. iv Sc. iv.

What is a man,
If his chief good, and market of his time,
Be but to sleep, and feed ? a beast, no more.
Sure, He, that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and godlike reason
To fust in us unused. Now, whether it be
Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple
Of thinking too precisely on the event,
A thought which, quartered, hath but one part wisdom,
And ever three parts coward, I do not know
Why yet I live to say, This thing 's to do;
Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, , and means,
To do 't. 19

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