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You brother mine, that entertain'd ambition, Expellid remorse* and nature; who with Sebastian (Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong), Would here have kill'd our king; I do forgive thee
, Unnatural though thou art!—Their understanding Begins to swell; and the approaching tide Will shortly fill the reasonable shores, That now lie foul and muddy. Not one of them,
looks on me, or would know me.
After summer, merrily:
If music be the food of love, play on,
* Pity, or tenderness of heart.
NATURAL AFFECTION ALLIED TO LOVE.
O, she, that hath a heart of that fine frame, To pay
this debt of love but to a brother, How will she love, when the rich golden shaft Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart, These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd, (Her sweet perfections) with one self king!
ESCAPE FROM DANGER.
I saw your brother, Most provident in peril, bind himself (Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) To a strong mast, that lived
A BEAUTIFUL BOY. Dear lad, believe it; For they shall yet belie thy happy years That say, thou art a man: Diana's lip Is not more smooth, and rubious; thy small pipe Is as the maiden's organ, shrill, and sound, And all is semblative a woman's part.
Oli. Why, what would you?
Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
upon my soul within the house ;
And make the babbling gossip of the air
should pity me.
Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness,
Come hither, boy: If ever thou shalt love,
THE WOMAN SHOULD BE YOUNGEST IN LOVE. Too old, by heaven; Let still the woman take An elder than herself; so wears she to him, So sways
she level in her husband's heart. For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, T'han women's are.
CHARACTER OF AN OLD SONG.
Mark it, Cesario ; it is old and plain :
* Dextrous, ready fiend. + Fair deceiver.
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,
Come away, come away, death,
O, prepare it;
Did share it.
black coffin let there be strown;
Lay me, O, where
She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i'the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in thought; And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. * Lace-makers. + Simple truth. Times of simplicity.
This fellow's wise enough to play the fool; And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit: He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time; And, like the haggard*, check at every feather That comes before his
This is a practice, As full of labour as a wise man's art: For folly, that he wisely shows, is fit; But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit.
UNSOUGHT LOVE. Cesario, by the roses of the spring, By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing, I love thee so, that, maugret all thy pride, Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide. Do not extort thy reasons from this clause, For, that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause: But, rather, reason thus with reason fetter: Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.
TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.
LOVE COMMENDED AND CENSURED.
Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud,
* A hawk not well trained. + In spite of.