O, tell me how it is; for ne'er till now
Was I a child, to fear I know not what.

TITUS ANDRONICUS, A. 2, s. 4.

FORGET PRINCIPLE, AND CHAOS
COMES.

You were half blasted ere I knew you:-Ha!
Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome,
Forborne the getting of a lawful race,
And by a gem of women, to be abus'd
By one that looks on feeders ?

You have been a boggler ever:—

But when we in our viciousness grow hard, (O misery on't!) the wise gods seal our eyes; In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us

Adore our errors; laugh at us, while we strut To our confusion.

I found you as a morsel, cold upon

Dead Caesar's trencher: nay, you were a fragment Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours, Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have

Luxuriously picked out :-For, I am sure, Though you can guess what temperance should be,

You know not what it is.

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA, A. 3, s. 11.

FORTUNE FAILS WITH THE LOSS OF PRINCIPLE.

ANTONY. Hark, the land bids me tread no more upon't;

It is asham'd to bear me !-Friends, come hither,

I am so lated in the world, that I

Have lost my way for ever :-I have a ship
Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly,
And make your peace with Cæsar.

ATTENDANTS.

Fly! not we.

ANT. I have fled myself: and have instructed cowards

To run, and show their shoulders.-Friends, be

gone;

I have myself resolv'd upon a course,

Which has no need of you; be gone:
My treasure's in the harbour; take it.-0,
I follow'd that I blush to look upon:
My very hairs do mutiny; for the white

Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them For fear and doting.-Friends, be gone; you shall

Have letters from me to some friends, that will Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad,

Nor make replies of loathness: take the hint Which my despair proclaims; let that be left Which leaves itself: to the sea side straightway: I will possess you of that ship and treasure. Leave me, I pray, a little 'pray you now :-Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command, Therefore I pray you :-I'll see you by and by.

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA, A. 3, s. 9.

FINDING THE STRAWBERRY,
UNDER THE NETTLE.

GLOSTER, 'tis true, that we are in great danger;
The greater, therefore, should our courage be.-
Good morrow, brother Bedford.-God Almighty!

There is some soul of goodness in things evil,
Would men observingly distil it out;

For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers,
Which is both healthful, and good husbandry:
Besides, they are our outward consciences,
And preachers to us all; admonishing,
That we should dress us fairly for our end.
Thus may we gather honey from the weed,
And make a moral of the devil himself.

K. HENRY V., A. 4, s. 1.

FORTITUDE IN EXTREMITY. MESSENGER. The nature of bad news infects the teller.

ANTONY. When it concerns the fool, or coward.-On:

Things, that are past, are done with me.-'Tis thus:

Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death, I hear him as he flatter'd.

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA, A. 1, s. 2.

FREEDOM OF THOUGHT.

THOUGH I am bound to every act of duty,
I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.
Utter my thoughts? Why, say, they are vile
and false,-

As where's that palace, whereunto foul things Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,

But some uncleanly apprehensions

Keep leets, and law-days, and in session sit
With meditations lawful?

OTHELLO, A. 3, s. 3.

FRIENDSHIP.

I TELL thee,

Thy general is my lover. I have been
The book of his good acts, whence men have read
His fame unparallel'd, haply, amplified;

For I have ever verified my friends,

(Of whom he's chief,) with all the size that verity

Would without lapsing suffer: nay, sometimes, Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground,

I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise Have, almost, stamp'd the leasing.

CORIOLANUS, A. 5, s. 2.

FRIENDSHIP.

I NEVER do him wrong,

But he does buy my injuries, to be friends;
Pays dear for my offences.

CYMBELINE, A. 1, s. 2.

FRIENDSHIP'S AGONY.

I DOUBT not of your wisdom. Let each man render me his bloody hand: First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you: Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand; Now, Decius Brutus, yours;-now yours, Metellus;

Yours, Cinna;-and, my valiant Casca, yours;Though last, not least in love, yours, good Trebonius.

Gentlemen all,-alas! what shall I say?

My credit now stands on such slippery ground, That one of two bad ways you must conceit me,

Either a coward or a flatterer.—

That I did love thee, Casar, O, 'tis true:
If then thy spirit look upon us now,
Shall it not grieve thee, dearer than thy death,
To see thy Antony making his peace,
Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes,
Most noble! in the presence of thy corse?
Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds,
Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,
It would become me better, than to close
In terms of friendship with thine enemies.
Pardon me, Julius!-Here wast thou bay'd,
brave hart;

Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand,
Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe.
O world! thou wast the forest to this hart;
And this, indeed; O world, the heart of thee.-
How like a deer, stricken by many princes,
Dost thou here lie!

Pardon me, Caius Cassius,
The enemies of Cæsar shall say this;

Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.

Therefore I took your hands; but was, indeed, Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Cæsar.

Friends am I with you all, and love you all; Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons, Why, and wherein Caesar was dangerous.

That's all I seek:

And am moreover suitor, that I may
Produce his body to the market-place;
And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend,.
Speak in the order of his funeral.

JULIUS CÆSAR, A. 3, s. 1.