Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
That solder’st close impossibilities,
And mak’st them kiss! that speak’st with every

tongue, To

every purpose; 0, thou touch of hearts!
Think, thy slave man rebels; and by thy virtue
Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
May have the world in empire!

TIMON TO THE THIEVES.

a

2

Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath

roots; Within this mile break forth a hundred springs: The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips; The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush Lays her full mess before you. Want? why want?

i Thief. We cannot live on grass, on berries, As beasts, and birds, and fishes.

(water, Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds,

and fishes; You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con, That you are thieves profess'd; that you work not In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft In limitedt professions. Rascal thieves, (grape, , Here's gold: Go, suck the subtle blood of the Till the high fever seeth your blood to froth, And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; His antidotes are poison, and he slays More than

you

rob: take wealth and lives together ; Do villainy, do, since you profess to do't, Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery: The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, * For touchstone.

+ For legal.

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And her pale fire she snatches from the sun:
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
The moon into soft tears: the earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a composture* stol'n
From general excrement: each thing's a thief;
The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
Have uncheck'd theft. Love not yourselves:

away;
Rob one another. There's more gold: Cut throats;
All that you meet are thieves: To Athens, go,
Break open shops; nothing can you steal,
But thieves do lose it.

ON HIS HONEST STEWARD,

Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, Perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim One honest man, —mistake me not, but one: No more, I pray, and he is a steward. How fain would I have hated all mankind, And thou redeem'st thyself: But all, save thee, I fell with curses. Methinks thou art more honest now, than wise; For, by oppressing and betraying me, Thou mightst have sooner got another service: For many so arrive at second masters, Upon their first lord's neck.

:

ACT V. PROMISING AND PERFORMANCE. Promising is the very air o'the time: it opens the eyes of expectation: performance is ever the duller for his act; and, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed of sayingt is quite out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind of will or testament, which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it.

WRONG AND INSOLENCE.
Now breathless wrong.
Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease;
And

pursy insolence shall break his wind, With fear and horrid flight.

TITUS ANDRONICUS.

ACT I.

MERCY.

1

Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
Draw near them then in being merciful:
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.

THANKS.

Thanks, to men
Of noble minds, is honourable meed.

ACT II.

INVITATION TO LOVE.

The birds chant melody on every bush; The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun; The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind; And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground: Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, And-whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds, Replying shrilly to the well tun'd horns,

As if a double hunt were heard at once,
Let us sit down, and mark their yelling noise:
And, after conflict, such as was suppos'd
The wandering prince of Dido once enjoy'd,
When with a happy storm they were surpris'd,
And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave,
may,

each wreathed in the other's arms,
Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber;
Whiles hounds, and horns, and sweet melodious
Be unto us, as is a nurse's song

[birds, Of lullaby, to bring her babe asleep.

We

a

DESCRIPTION OF A MELANCHOLY VALLEY. A barren detested vale, you see, it is: The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, O'ercome with moss, and baleful misletoe. Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds, Unless the nightly owl, or fatal raven. And, when they show'd me this abhorred pit, They told me, here, at dead time of the night, A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins*, Would make such fearful and confused cries, As any mortal body, hearing it, Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly.

DESCRIPTION OF A RING.

Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious ring, that lightens all the hole,
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks,
And shows the ragged entrails of this pit.

LAVINIA AT HER LUTE.

Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,
And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind:
But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee;
A craftier Terius hast thou met withal,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,
That could have better sewed than Philomel.
O, had the monster seen those lily hands
Tremble, like

aspen leaves, upon a lute,
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them:
He would not then have touch'd them for his life;
Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony,
Which that sweet tongue hath made,
He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep,
As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's* feet.

ACT III.
LAVINIA'S LOSS OF HER TONGUE DESCRIBED.
O, that delightful engine of her thoughts,
That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence,
Is torn from forth that

pretty
hollow

cage: Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear!

DESPAIR.

For now I stand as one upon a rock, Environ'd with a wilderness of sea; Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, Expecting ever when some envious surge Will, in his brinish bowels, swallow him.