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And speak of half a dozen dangerous words,
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst,
And this is all.


Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes;
That when I note another man like him,

avoid him.


The wolves have preyed: and look, the gentle day, Before the wheels of Phæbus, round about Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray.




THY hounds shall make the welkin answer them, And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.


Dost thou lore pictures? we will fetch thee straight Adonis painted by a running brook: And Cytherea all in sedges hid; Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, Even as the waving sedges play with wind.


WOMAN'S TONGUE. Think you, a little din can daunt mine ears? Have I not in my time heard lions roar? Have I not heard the sea, puff'd up with winds, Rage like an angry boar, chafed with sweat? Have I not heard great ordnance in the field And heav'ns artillery thunder in the skies? Have I not in a pitched battle heard Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpet's clang:

And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,
That gives not half so great a blow to the ear,
As will a chesnut in a farmer's fire.



When the priest,
Should ask--if Katharine should be his wife,
Ay, by gogs-wouns, quoth he; and swore so loud,
That, all amaz’d, the priest let fall the book:
And, as he stoop'd again to take it up,
The mad-brain d bridegroom took him such a cuff,
That down fell priest and book, and book and priest;
Now take them up, quoth he, if any list.

Tra. What said the wench, when he arose again?
Gre Trembled and shook; for why, he stamp'd,

and swore,
As if the vicar meant to cozen him.
But after many ceremonies done,
He calls for wine: A health, quoth he, as if
He had been aboard carousing to his mates
After a storm:-Quaffd off the muscadel,*
And threw the sops

all in the sexton's face!
Having no other reason, -
But that his beard grew thin and hungerly,
And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking.
This done, he touk the bride about the neck;
And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack,
That, at the parting, all the church did echo.

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For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich; And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, So honour peeretht in the meanest habit. What, is the jay more precious than the lark,

* It was the custom for the company present to drink wine immediately after the marriage ceremony. † Appeareth.

Because his feathers are more beautiful?
Or is the adder better than the eel,
Because his painted skin contents the eye?
O, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
For this


furniture and mean array.


THE WIFE'S DUTY TO HER HUSBAND. Fie, fie! unknit that threat'ning unkind brow; And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor; It blots thy beauty, as frosts bite the meads; Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds, And in no sense is meet, or amiable. A woman moved, is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, berest of beauty; And, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it. Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy ead, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance: commits his body To painful labour, both by sea and land; To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe, And craves no other tribute at thy hands, But love, fair looks, and true obedience; Too little payment for so great a debt. Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such, a woman oweth to her husband: And, when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour, And not obedient to his honest will, What is she, but a foul contending rebel, And graceless traitor to her loving lord?I am asham'd, that women are so simple To offer war, where they should kneel for

peace; Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth, Unapt to toil and trouble in the worlds

But that our soft conditions* and our hearts,
Should well agree with our external parts?




THAT now he was
The ivy, which had hid my princely trunk,
And suck'd my verdure out on't.

I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak, Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, I flam'd amazement: Sometimes, I'd divide, And burn in many places; on the top-mast, The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly, Then meet, and join: Jove's lightnings, the precurO'the dreadful thunder claps, more momentary And sight-out-running were not: The fire, and cracks of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, Yea, his dread trident shake.

Not a soul,
But felt a fever of the mad, and play.d
Some tricks of desperation: All, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-starting (then like reeds, not hair,)
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is emply,
And all the devils are here.

'Thou dost; and think'st
It much, to tread the ooze of the salt deep;
To run upon the sharp wind of the north;
To do me business in the veins o'the earth,
When it is bak'd with frost.

* Gentle tempers.

CALIBAN'S CURSES. Cal As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd With raven's feather from unwholesome fen, Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye, And blister


all o'er! Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have

cramps, Side-stitches that shall

pen thy breath up; urchins* Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd As thick as honeycombs, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made them.

Cal. I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou taks't from me. When thou cam'st first, Thou strok’dst me, and mad'st much of me; would'st

give me Water with berries in't; and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night: and then I lov'd thec, And show'd thee all the qualities of the isle, The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and

fertile; Cursed be I that did so!-All the charms Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! For I am all the subjects that you have, Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me The rest of the island. CALIBAN'S EXULTATION AFTER PROSPERO TELLS

HIM HE SOUGHT TO VIOLATE THE HONOUR OF HIS CHILD. O ho, O ho !-'would it had been done! Thou didst prevent me;. I had peopled else This isle with Calibans.

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Where should this music be? i'the air, or the carth, It sounds no more:-and sure, it waits upon

* Faries.

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