Sc. iv.
Go, bind thou up yond dangling apricocks,
Which,, like unruly children, make their sire
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight;
Give some supportance to the bending twigs.
Go thou ? and like an executioner
Cut off the heads of too-fast-growing sprays,
That look too lofty in our commonwealth
All ninst be even in our Government.
You thus employed, I will go root away
The noisome weeds, that without, profit suck
The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers. 34
LOVES LABOUR'S LOST Act. I Sc. I.
Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives,
Live registered upon our brazen tombs,
And then grace us in the disgrace of death;
When, spite of cormorant devouring Time,
The endeavour of this present breath may buy
That honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge,
And make us heirs of all eternity. 35
