Shakespeariana:

OR

Select Moral Reflections, Topicks, Similies, and Defcriptions from SHAKESPEAR.

M

Confinement for Love.

Y Father's lofs, the Weakness which I feel, The Wrack of all my Friends, and this (Man's Threats,

To whom I am fubdu'd, are but light to me, Might I but through my Prison once a Day Behold this Maid: All Corners elfe o'th' Earth Let Liberty make ufe of; Space enough Have I, in fuch a Prison.

Ferd. in the Tempest.

Defcription of Swimming in a Storm.

I faw him beat the Surges under him,
And ride upon their Backs; he trod the Water,
Whose Enmity he flung afide; and breasted

The

The Surge most swollen that met him: His bold Head 'Bove the contentious Waves he kept, and oared Himfelf with his good Arms in luftry Strokes

To th' Shore; that o'er his wave-born Bafis bow'd
As ftooping to relieve him.

Humane Nature.

These are Actors,

Sebaftian. Ibid.

As I foretold you, were all Spirits, and
Are melted into Air, into thin Air;
And like the baseless Fabrick of their Vision,
The cloud-capt Towers, the gorgeous Palaces,
The folemn Temples, the great Globe it self,
Yea, all which it inherit, fhall diffolve,
And, like this in fubftantial Pageant faded,
Leave not a Wrack behind; we are fuch Stuff®
As Dreams are made on, and our little Life
Is rounded with a Sleep.

Against flighted Love.

Profp. Ibid.

To be in Love, where Scorn is bought with Groans, Coy Looks, with Heart-fore fighs; one fading Moment's With twenty watchful, weary tedious Nights, [Mirth, If haply won, perhaps an hapless Gain:

If loft, why then a grievous Labour won;
However, but a Folly bought with Wit,
Or elfe a Wit by Folly vanquish'd.

Valent, two Gent. of Verona.

Woman's diffembled Love.

Fie, fie; how wayward is this foolish Love, That like a Tefty Babe will fcratch the Nurse, And prefently, all humbled, kifs the Rod? How churlifhly I chid Lucetta hence,

When willingly I would have had her here?
How angerly I taught my Brow to frown,

When inward Joy enforc'd my Heart to fmile? Ful. Ib.

of

Of Love.

Oh, how this Spring of Love resembleth
Th' uncertain Glory of an April Day,

Which now fhews all the Beauty of the Sun,
And by and by a Cloud takes all away!

Contempt of Love punish'd.

Proth. Ib.

I have done Penance for contemning Love, Whofe high imperious Thoughts have punish'd me With bitter Fafts, with penitential Groans, With nightly Tears and daily heart-fore Sighs; For in revenge of my Contempt of Love, Love hath chac'd Sleep from my enthralled Eyes, And made them Watchers of mine own Heart's Sorrow: O gentle Protheus! Love's a mighty Lord, And hath fo humbled me, as I confefs There is no Woe to his Correction; Nor to his Service, no such Joy on Earth.

Oppofition enrages.

Valent. Ib.

The Current, that with gentle Murmur glides,
Thou know'ft, being ftop'd, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair Course is not hindered,

He makes fweet Mufic with th' enamel'd Stones,
Giving a gentle Kifs to every Sedge,

He overtaketh in his Pilgrimage:

And fo by many winding Nooks he strays,
With willing Sport, to the wild-Ocean.

Gifts win Women.

Fulla. Ibid.

Win her with Gifts, if the refpects not Words;

Dumb Jewels often in their filent kind,

More than quick Words, do move a Woman's Mind.

Val. Ibid.

Banish

Banishment of a Lover is Death.

And why not Death, rather than living Torment? To die, is to be banish'd from myself, And Silvia is myself; banish'd from her Is felf from felf: A deadly Banishment! What Light is Light, if Silvia be not feen? What Joy is Joy, it Silvia be not by ? Unless it be to think that she is by, And feed upon the Shadow of Perfection. Except I be by Silvia in the Night, There is no Mufic in the Nightingale : Unless I look on Silvia in the Day, There is no Day for me to look upon : She is my Effence, and I leave to be, If I be not by her fair Influence Fofter'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive.

Hope

Val. Ibid.

Hope is a Lover's Staff, walk hence with that, And manage it against despairing Thoughts.

Virtue must be feen.

Proth. Ib.

Heav'n doth with us, as we with Torches do,
Not light them for themselves: For if our Virtues
Did not go
forth of us, 'twere all alike

As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd,
But to fine Iffues; nor Nature never lends

The smalleft Scruple of her Excellence,

But like a thrifty Goddefs, fhe determines
Herself the Glory of a Creditor,

Both Thanks and Ufe.

Duke. Measure for Measure.

Mercy.

Mercy.

May call it back again: Well, believe this,
No Ceremony that to great ones belongs,"
Not the King's Crown, nor the deputed Sword,
The Marshal's Truncheon, nor the Judge's Robe,
Become them with one half fo good a Grace

As Mercy does.

The Vanity of Power in Men.

Could great Men thunder,

Ifab. Ibid.

As Fove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet;
For every pelting petty Officer

Would ufe his Heav'n for Thunder;

Nothing but Thunder. Merciful Heav'n!
Thou rather with thy fharp and fulphurous Bolt
Split'ft the unwedgable and gnarled Oak,

Than the foft Myrtle: O but Man! proud Man!
Dreft in a little brief Authority,

Moft ignorant of what he's moft affur'd,

His glaffie Effence, like an angry Ape,

Plays fuch fantaftic Tricks before high Heav'n,
As makes the Angels weep; who with our Spleens
Would all themselves laugh mortal.

Ifab. Ibid

The Privilege of Greatness and Power.

We cannot weigh our Brother with our felf;

Great Men may jeft with Saints; 'tis Wit in them,
But in the lefs, foul Prophanation.

Ifab. Ibid.

On the fame.

Which in the Soldier is flat Blafphemy.

That in the Captain's but a cholerick Word,

Ifab. Ibid.

Authority.