Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarléd oak,

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

Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd,

His glassy essence, like an angry ape,

Plays such fantastic tricks before high heav'n,
As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal.

Measure for Measure, Act II., Scene 7.

THE PROCEDURE OF PROVIDENCE.

He that of greatest works is finisher,
Oft does them by the weakest minister:

So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown,

When judges have been babes. Great floods have flown
From simple sources; and great seas have dry'd,
When miracles have by th' greatest been deny'd.

'Oft expectation fails, and most oft there

Where most it promises: and oft it hits

Where hope is coldest, and despair most sits.

All's Well that Ends Well, Act II., Scene 3.

SHYLOCK'S REVENGE.1

If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge: he hath disgrac'd me, and hinder'd me of half a million, laugh'd at my losses, mock'd at my gains, scorn'd my nation, thwarted my bargains, cool'd my friends, heated mine enemies; and what's his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, heal'd by the same means, warm'd and cool'd by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? if we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? revenge. If a Christian wrong

In a less tolerant age than the present the Jew was regarded with a species of horror. The Italian tale on which Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice is founded, represents a Jew as insisting on the fulfilment of a bond of a pound of his flesh from a Christian merchant on the failure of the payment of a sum of money. Shylock, the Jew of the play, replies as above to a remonstrance on his cruelty.

a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? why, revenge. The villany you teach me I will execute; and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.

Merchant of Venice, Act III., Scene 1.

HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY ON DEATH.

To be, or not to be, that is the question ;-
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And, by opposing, end them? To die,to sleep,-
No more; and, by a sleep, to say, we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to ;-'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die,-to sleep ;-

To sleep!-perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub ;1
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause ;-there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pang of despis'd love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To groan2 and sweat under a weary life?
But that the dread of something after death,
(That undiscover'd country, from whose bourne
No traveller returns,) puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all :
And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.

Hamlet, Act III., Scene 2.

1 See note 7, p. 337.

2 The true reading is grunt. See note 7, p. 337.

FAITHFUL FRIENDSHIP.

Hamlet to Horatio.

Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man
As e'er my conversation cop'd withal.
Nay, do not think I flatter:

For what advancement may I hope from thee,
That no revenue hast but thy good spirits

To feed and clothe thee? Should the poor be flatter'd?
No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee,
Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?
Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice,
And could of men distinguish, her election
Hath sealed thee for herself; for thou hast been
As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing;
A man, that Fortune's buffets and rewards
Hast ta'en with equal thanks. And bless'd are those
Whose blood and judgment are so well co-mingled,
That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger
To sound what stop she please. Give me that man
That is not Passion's slave, and I will wear him
In my heart's core; ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee.

Hamlet, Act III., Scene 4.

DEATH OF CORIOLANUS.1

Enter, to the Lords of the City of Antium and the Conspirators, Coriolanus, marching with drums and colours; the Commons being with him.

Cor. Hail, Lords! I am return'd your soldier;
No more infected with my country's love,
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know,
That prosperously I have attempted, and

The Roman legend of Caius Marcius, surnamed Coriolanus for his exploits in the capture of the Volscian city of Corioli, is placed about the year B.C. 488. Notwithstanding his great public services, the haughty patrician, banished by the influence of the popular tribunes, joined the Volscians in their capital Antium; led their armies, and reduced Rome to the brink of ruin. He spared the city, at the entreaty of a deputation of the Roman matrons, headed by his wife and mother; on his return to Antium he was accused of betraying the interest of his allies, and murdered in a tumult.

With bloody passage led your wars, even

To the gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,

The charges of the action.

We've made peace
With no less honour to the Antiates,

Than shame to th' Romans: and we here deliver,
Subscribed by the consuls and patricians,

Together with the seal o' th' senate, what
We have compounded on.

Auf. Read it not, noble Lords;

But tell the traitor, in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.

Cor. Traitor!- -how now!

Auf. Ay, traitor, Marcius.

Cor. Marcius!

Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius. Dost thou think I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name Coriolanus, in Corioli?

You Lords, and heads o' th' state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up,
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome,
I say, your city, to his wife and mother;
Breaking his oath and resolution, like
A twist of rotten silk; never admitting
Counsel o' th' war, but at his nurse's tears
He whin'd and roar'd away your victory,
That pages blush'd at him; and men of heart
Look'd wond'ring each at other.

Cor. Hear'st thou, Mars!

Auf Name not the god! thou boy of tears!
Cor. Ha!

Auf. No more.

Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave !-
Pardon me, Lords, 'tis the first time that ever

I'm forc'd to scold. Your judgments, my grave Lords,
Must give this cur the lie; and his own notion,
Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him, that
Must bear my beating to his grave,1 shall join
To thrust the lie unto him.

1st Lord. Peace both, and hear me speak.

Coriolanus is represented in the legendary history as having repeatedly defeated the Volscian general, Tullus Aufidius.

Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volscians; men and lads,
Stain all your edges in me. Boy! false hound!
If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,
That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I
Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli.
Alone I did it. Boy!

Auf. Why, noble Lords,

Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears?

All Conspirators. Let him die for't.

All People. Tear him to pieces; do it presently.

my

father.

[The crowd speak promiscuously. -my daughter,-kill'd my

2d Lord. Peace,-no outrage-peace

The man is noble, and his fame folds in
This orb o' th' earth; his last offences to us
Shall have judicious2 hearing. Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.

Cor. O that I had him,

With six Aufidiuses, or more,—his tribe,

To use my lawful sword

Auf. Insolent villain !

All Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!

[The Conspirators all draw, and kill Marcius, who falls, and Aufidius stands on him.

Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold!

HARDSHIPS OF ROYALTY.

Soliloquy of Henry V.

O hard condition, and twin-born with greatness,-
Subject to breath of ev'ry fool, whose sense
No more can feel but his own wringing!
What infinite heart-ease must kings neglect,
That private men enjoy! and what have kings,
That privates have not too, save ceremony,
Save gen'ral ceremony?-

And what art thou, thou idol Ceremony!

1 His fame overspread the world.-Johnson.

2 For judicial.