Ir thou be'st Death, I'll give thee England's treasures,
Enough to purchase such another island,
So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain.
Bring me to my trial when you will;
Died he not in his bed? where should he die?
Can I make men live, whether they will or no?
Oh! torture me no more: I will confess.
Alive again? then show me where he is:
I'll give a thousand pounds to look upon him.
He hath no eyes,-the dust hath blinded them.
Comb down his hair look! look! it stands upright,
Like lime-twigs to catch my winged soul.
Give me some drink, and bid the apothecary
Bring in the strong poison, that I bought of him.
Henceforth let no man trust the first false step
To guilt. It hangs upon a precipice,
Whose deep descent in fast perdition ends.
How far am I plunged down beyond all thought
Which I this evening framed!
Consummate horror! guilt beyond a name!
Dare not my soul repent. In thee, repentance
Were second guilt, and 'twere blaspheming heaven
To hope for mercy. My pain can only cease
When gods want power to punish. Ha! the dawn!
Rise, never more, O sun! let night prevail—
Eternal darkness close the world's wide scene,
And hide me from myself.
29. THE ADVICE OF POLONIUS TO HIS SON.
GIVE thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar; but by no means vulgar.
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of ev'ry new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware
Of entrance into quarrel! but, being in,
Bear it, that the opposer may beware of thee.
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice:
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy: rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man.
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This, above all—to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not, then, be false to any man.
THE quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven,
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blessed;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes:
"Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown:
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the fear and dread of kings:
But mercy is above the sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
When mercy seasons justice: therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this-
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy: I have spoke thus much,
To mitigate the justice of thy plea.
31. MARK ANTONY'S ORATION.
FRIENDS, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears:
I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones :
So let it be with Cæsar. The noble Brutus
Hath told you Cæsar was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault;
And grievously hath Cæsar answered it.
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest
(For Brutus is an honorable man,
So are they all, all honorable men),
Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill :
Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious?
When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept :
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
You all did see, that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse.
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And, sure, he is an honorable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause;
What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason!-Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle: I remember
The first time ever Cæsar put it on;
"Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent;
That day he overcame the Nervii.
Look! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through:
See, what a rent the envious Casca made:
Through this, the well-belovéd Brutus stabbed;
And, as he plucked his curséd steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæsar followed it;
As rushing out of doors, to be resolved
If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no;
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel :
Judge, O you gods, how dearly Cæsar loved him!
This was the most unkindest cut of all:
For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms,
Quite vanquished him: then burst his mighty heart;
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Even at the base of Pompey's statue,
Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell.
Oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen !
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourished over us.
32. ADDRESS OF MARULLUS TO THE MOB.
WHEREFORE rejoice? that Cæsar comes in triumph!
What conquest brings he home?
What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?
You blocks! you stones! you worse than senseless things!
hard hearts! you cruel men of Rome!
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climbed up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops-
Your infants in your arms-and there have sat
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome :
And, when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made a universal shout,
That Tiber trembled underneath his banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in his concave shores?
And do you now put on your best attire ?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Begone!-
Run to your houses! fall upon your knees!
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague,
That needs must light on this ingratitude!
33. RICHMOND'S ADDRESS TO HIS SOLDIERS.
FELLOWS in arms, and my most loving friends,
Bruised underneath the yoke of tyranny,
Thus far into the bowels of the land
Have we marched on without impediment !
Richard, the bloody and devouring boar,
Whose ravenous appetite has spoiled your fields,
Laid this rich country waste, and rudely cropped
Its ripened hopes of fair prosperity,
Is, now, even in the centre of the isle.
God, and our good cause, fight upon our side:
The prayers of holy saints, and wrongéd souls,
Like high-reared bulwarks, stand before our faces.
Thrice is he armed that has his quarrel just;
And he but naked, though locked up in steel,
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted:
The very weight of Richard's guilt shall crush him.
Then let us on, my friends, and boldly face him!
Advance your standards, draw your willing swords:
For me, the ransom of my bold attempt
Shall be this body on the earth's cold face;
But if we thrive, the glory of the action
The meanest soldier here shall share his part of.
Advance your standards! Draw your willing swords!
Sound drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully!
The words, "St. George! Richmond! and victory!"
SHAKSPEARE.
34. SOLILOQUY OF HAMLET'S UNCLE,
OH! my offence is rank, it smells to heaven;
It hath the primal, eldest curse upon it,
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