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PROSPERO ABOUT TO ABJURE HIS MAGICAL CHARMS.

YE elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves : And ye, that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him, When he comes back; you demi-puppets, that By moonshine do the green-sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you, whose pastime Is to make midnight-mushrooms; that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid (Weak masters though you be) I have bedimm'd The noon-tide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt: the strong-based promontory Have I made shake; and by the spurs pluck'd up The pine, and cedar: graves, at my command, Have waked their sleepers; oped, and let them forth By my so potent art: But this rough magic I here abjure: and, when I have required Some heavenly music, (which even now I do,) To work mine end upon their senses, that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.

THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.

VALENTINE AND PROTEUS BID EACH OTHER ADIEU: THE
ONE TO TRAVEL, THE OTHER TO REMAIN AT HOME.

Val. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus;
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits:
Were't not, affection chains thy tender days
To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love,
I rather would entreat thy company,
To see the wonders of the world abroad,
Than, living dully sluggardiz'd at home,
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein,
Even as I would, when I to love begin.

Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu!
Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, seest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
Wish me partaker in thy happiness,

When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger,
If ever danger do environ thee,

Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers;
For I will be thy beadsman, Valentine.

Val. And on a love-book pray for my success.
Pro. Upon some book I love, I'll pray for thee.
Val. To be

In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks,
With heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth,
With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights:

If haply won, perhaps, a hapless gain;
If lost, why, then a grievous labour won :
However, but a folly bought with wit,
Or else a wit by folly vanquished.

Pro. 'T is love cavil at ;
you

I

am not Love. Val. Love is your master, for he masters you: And he that is so yoked by a fool,

Methinks should not be chronicled for wise.
Pro. Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud
The eating canker dwells, so eating love
Inhabits in the finest wits of all.

Val. And writers say, As the most forward bud
Is eaten by the canker ere it blow,

Even so by love the young and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud,
Losing his verdure, even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.
But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee,
That art a votary to fond desire?

Once more adieu: my father at the road
Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd.

ANTONIO AND PANTHINO.

TRAVEL USEFUL TO YOUNG MEN,

Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pan. "T was of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him?

Pan. He wonder'd that your lordship Would suffer him to spend his youth at home:

While other men, of slender reputation,
Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
Some, to the wars, to try their fortune there;
Some, to discover islands far away;
Some, to the studious universities.
For any or for all these exercises,

He said, that Proteus, your son, was meet;
And did request me, to importune you,
To let him spend his time no more at home,
Which would be great impeachment to his age,
In having known no travel in his youth.

Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that
Whereon this month I have been hammering.
I have consider'd well his loss of time;
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being tried and tutor❜d in the world.
Experience is by industry achieved,

And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?
Pan. I think, your lordship is not ignorant,
How his companion, youthful Valentine,

Attends the

in

emperor his royal court.

Ant. I know it well.

Pan. 'T were good, I think, your lordship sent him thither:

There shall he practise tilts and tournaments,

Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen;

And be in eye of every exercise

Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.

VALENTINE AND SPEED. SIGNS OF BEING IN LOVE.

Val. Why, how know you that I am in love?

Speed. Marry, by these special marks: First, you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a malecontent; to relish a love-song, like a robin-red-breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy that had lost his A, B, C; to weep, like a young wench that hath buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laugh'd, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you

looked sadly, it was for want of money: and now you are so metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master.

VALENTINE RETIRES AWHILE FROM HIS ROBBER COM-
PANIONS, WHO HAVE CHOSEN HIM THEIR CHIEF.

Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man!
This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
I better brook than flourishing peopled towns:
Here can I sit alone, unseen of any,

And, to the nightingale's complaining notes,
Tune my distresses, and record my woes.
O thou that dost inhabit in my breast,
Leave not the mansion so long tenantless;
Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall,
And leave no memory of what it was!
Repair me with thy presence, Silvia;

Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain !—
What hallooing, and what stir, is this to-day?
These are my mates, that make their wills their law,
Have some unhappy passenger in chase:
They love me well; yet I have much to do,

To keep them from uncivil outrages.

MEASURE FOR MEASURE.

THE DUKE'S ADDRESS TO ANGELO.

Duke. Look, where he comes.

Ang. Always obedient to your grace's will, I come to know your pleasure.

Duke. Angelo,

There is a kind of character in thy life,
That, to the observer, doth thy history
Fully unfold: Thyself and thy belongings
Are not thine own so proper, as to waste
Thyself upon thy virtues, them on thee.
Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do;
Not light them for themselves: for if our virtues
Did not go forth of us, 't were all alike

As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd
But to fine issues: nor nature never lends

The smallest scruple of her excellence,
But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines
Herself the glory of a creditor,

Both thanks and use.

But I do bend my speech

To one that can my part in him advértise;
Hold, therefore, Angelo:

In our remove, be thou at full ourself;
Mortality and mercy in Vienna

Live in thy tongue and heart: Old Escalus,
Though first in question, is thy secondary:
Take thy commission.

Ang. Now, good my lord,

Let there be some more test made of my metal,
Before so noble and so great a figure

Be stamp'd upon it.

Duke. No more evasion:

We have with a leaven'd and prepared choice

Proceeded to you; therefore take your honours.

ISABELLA SUING TO ANGELO FOR THE LIFE OF HER

BROTHER.

Isab. Yet show some pity.

Ang. I show it most of all when I show justice; For then I pity those I do not know,

Which a dismiss'd offence would after gall;

And do him right, that, answering one foul wrong,

Lives not to act another.

Be satisfied;

Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.

Isab. So you must be the first, that gives this sentence; And he, that suffers: O, it is excellent

To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous

To use it like a giant.

Lucio. That's well said.

Isab. Could great men thunder

As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet;

For every pelting, petty officer,

Would use his heaven for thunder; nothing but thunder.—

Merciful Heaven!

Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt,

Splitt'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,

Than the soft myrtle :-O, but man, proud man!
Drest in a little brief authority ;

Most ignorant of what he's most assured,

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