ÆäÀÌÁö À̹ÌÁö
PDF
ePub

Helicanus. They do abuse the king that flatter him :
For flattery is the bellows blows up sin;

The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark,

To which that blast gives heat and stronger glowing;
Whereas reproof, obedient and in order,

Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err.

Act 1, Sc. 2.

Per. 'Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.

Act 1, Sc. 2.

Cleon. One sorrow never comes but brings an heir,*
That may succeed as his inheritor.-Act 1, Sc. 4.

Cleon. Thou speak'st like him 's untutor'd to repeat;
Who makes the fairest show, means most deceit.
Act 1, Sc. 4.

Third Fish. Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea. First Fish. Why, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the little ones I can compare our rich misers to nothing so fitly as to a whale; a' plays and tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at last devours them all at a mouthful: such whales have I heard on o' the land, who never leave gaping till they've swallowed the whole parish, church, steeple, bells, and all.-Act 2, Sc. I.

Simonides. As jewels lose their glory if neglected,

So princes their renowns if not respected.

Sim. Opinion's but a fool that makes us scan

Act 2, Sc. 2.

The outward habit by the inward man.--Act 2, Sc. 2.

* Compare this with the Quotation from "Hamlet," Act 4, Sc. 5.

Cer.

I hold it ever,

Virtue and cunning were endowments greater
Than nobleness and riches: careless heirs
May the two latter darken and expend;
But immortality attends the former,
Making a man a god.-Act 3, Sc. 2.

VENUS AND ADONIS.

Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime
Rot and consume themselves in little time.-Line 131.

'Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,
Or, like a fairy, trip upon the green,
Or, like a nymph, with long dishevell'd hair,
Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen :
Love is a spirit, all compact of fire,
Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.'

Line 145.

'Torches are made to light, jewels to wear,
Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use,
Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear :
Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse.'

At this Adonis smiles as in disdain,

That in each cheek appears a pretty dimple;
Love made these hollows, if himself were slain,
He might be buried in a tomb so simple ;

Foreknowing well, if there he came to lie,

Line 163.

Why there Love lived, and there he could not die.

Line 241.

Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long, Broad breast, full eye, small head and nostril wide, High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong, Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide : Look, what a horse should have he did not lack, Save a proud rider on so proud a back.—Line 295.

For lovers say, the heart hath treble wrong

When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue.-Line 329.

An oven that is stopp'd, or river stay'd,

Burneth more hotly, swelleth with more rage:

So of concealed sorrow may be said;
Free vent of words love's fire doth assuage;

But when the heart's attorney once is mute,

The client breaks, as desperate in his suit.-Line 331.

Affection is a coal that must be cool'd;

Else, suffer'd, it will set the heart on fire :-Line 387.

The mellow plum doth fall, the green sticks fast,
Or being early pluck'd is sour to taste.—Line 527.

Foul words and frowns must not repel a lover;
What though the rose have prickles, yet 'tis pluck'd :
Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast,
Yet love breaks through and picks them all at last.

THE BOAR.

Line 573.

'On his bow-back he hath a battle set

Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes;

His eyes, like glow-worms, shine when he doth fret;
His snout digs sepulchres where'er he goes;

Being moved, he strikes whate'er is in his way,
And whom he strikes his cruel tushes slay.

'His brawny sides, with hairy bristles arm'd,
Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter;
His short thick neck cannot be easily harm'd ;
Being ireful, on the lion he will venture :

The thorny brambles and embracing bushes,

As fearful of him, part, through whom he rushes.'

'For where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy
Doth call himself Affection's sentinel;

Gives false alarms, suggesteth mutiny,
And in a peaceful hour doth cry “Kill, kill!”
Distempering gentle Love in his desire,
As air and water do abate the fire.

'This sour informer, this bate-breeding spy, This canker that eats up Love's tender spring,

This carry-tale, dissentious Jealousy,

Line 619.

That sometime true news, sometime false doth bring,
Knocks at my heart and whispers in mine ear,

That if I love thee, I thy death should fear :'-Line 649.

THE HARE.

'And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare,
Mark the poor wretch, to overshoot his troubles
How he outruns the wind, and with what care
He cranks and crosses with a thousand doubles :
The many musets* through the which he goes
Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes.

'Sometime he runs among a flock of sheep,
To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell,
And sometime where earth-delving conies keep,
To stop the loud pursuers in their yell,

* Gap in a hedge.

And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer :
Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear :

'For there his smell with others being mingled,
The hot scent-snuffing hounds are driven to doubt,
Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled
With much ado the cold fault cleanly out;

Then do they spend their mouths: Echo replies,
As if another chase were in the skies.

"By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill,
Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear,
To hearken if his foes pursue him still :
Anon their loud alarums he doth hear;
And now his grief may be compared well
To one sore sick that hears the passing-bell.

'Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch
Turn, and return, indenting with the way;
Each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch,
Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay :
For misery is trodden on by many,

And being low never reliev'd by any.-Line 679.

Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,

From his moist cabinet mounts up on high.*-Line 853.

'Hard-favour'd tyrant, ugly, meagre, lean,
Hateful divorce of love,'-thus chides she Death,-
'Grim-grinning ghost, earth's worm, what dost thou mean
To stifle beauty and to steal his breath,

Who when he lived, his breath and beauty set
Gloss on the rose, smell to the violet ?-Line 931.

*See the song from "Cymbeline," Act 2, Sc. 3.

« ÀÌÀü°è¼Ó »