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-Give me the cup,

And let the kettle to the trumpets speak,

The trumpets to the cannoneers within,

The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,
Now the king drinks to Hamlet.Frag. of Hamlet.
10. At thirty, man suspects himself a fool;
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
At fifty, chides his infamous delay,
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve,
In all the magnanimity of thought,

Resolves and re-resolves—then dies the same. -Young.

VII.—Examples of ihe principal Emotions and Passions— Admiration, Contempt, Joy, Grief, Courage, Fear, Love, Hatred, Pity, Anger, Revenge and Jealousy.

1. WHAT a piece of work is man! How noble in reason † How infinite in faculties! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! Hamlet.

2. Away! No woman could descend so low.

A skipping, dancing, worthless tribe you are.
Fit only for yourselves, you herd together;

And when the circling glass warms your vain hearts,
You talk of beauties which you never saw,

And fancy raptures that you never knew.Fair Peniten
3. Let mirth go on; let pleasure know no pause,
But fill up every minute of this day.

5Tis yours, my children, sacred to your loves.
The glorious sun himself for you looks gay;
He shines for Altamont, and for Calista.
Take care my gates be open. Bid all welcome;
All who rejoice with me to day are friends.
Let each indulge his genius; each be glad,
Jocund and free, and swell the feast with mirth.
The sprightly bowl shall cheerfully go round;
None shall be grave, nor too severely wise:
Losses and disappointments, care and poverty,
The rich man's insolence, and great man's scorn,
In wine shall be forgotten all.- -Fair Penitent.

4. All dark and comfortless.

Where all those various objects, that but now
Employ'd my busy eyes? Where those eyes?
These groping hands are now my only guides.
And feeling all my sight.

Omisery! What words can sound my grief!

Shut from the living whilst among the living;
Bark as the grave amidst the bustling world;
At once from business and from pleasure barr'd ;
No more to view the beauty of the spring,
Or see the face of kindred or of friend!.

Tragedy of Lear.

S. Thou speak'st a woman's; hear a warrior's wish.
Right from their native land, the stormy north,
May the wind blow, till every keel is fix'd
Immovable in Caledonia's strand!

Then shall our foes repent their bold invasion,
And roving armies shun the fatal shore.-

Tragedy of Douglas.

6. Ah! Mercy on my soul! What's that? My old friend's ghost! They say, none but wicked folks walk. I wish I were at the bottom of a coalpit! La! how pale, and how long his face is grown since his death! He never was handsome; and death has improved him very much the wrong way.—Pray, do not come near me! I wished you very well when you were alive. But I could never abide a dead man cheek by jowl with me.- -Ah! Ah! mercy on me! No nearer, pray! If it be only to take your leave of me, that you are come back, I could have excused you the ceremony with all my heart.—Or if you—mercy on us! No nearer, pray—or if you have wrong'd any body, as you always loved money a little, I give you the word of a frighted Christian, I will pray, as long as you please, for the deliver. ance and repose of your departed soul* My good, worthy, noble friend, do, pray, disappear, as ever you would wish your old friend, Anselm, to come to his senses again.

Moliere's Blunderer.

7. Who can behold such beauty and be silent!

0! I could talk to thee forever;

Forever fix and gaze on those dear eyes;

For every glance they send darts through my soul !

8. How like a fawning publican he looks!

1 hate him for he is a Christian :

But more, for that in low simplicity

He lends out money gratis, and brings down
The rate of usance with us here in Venice.
If I can catch him once upon the hip,

I will feed fat that ancient grudge I bear him.

He hates our sacred nation; and he rails,


E'en there where the merchants most do congregate.
On me, my bargains, and my well won thrift,
Which he calls usury. Cursed be my tribe
Merchant of Venice.

If I forgive him.

9. A3, in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well grsced actor leaves the stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next.
Thinking his prattle to be tedious;

Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes
Did scowl on Richard. No man cri'd, God save him'
No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home :
But dust was thrown upon his sacred head :
Which, with such gentle sorrow, he shook off,
(His face still combating with tears and smiles,
The badges of his grief and patience ;)

That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd
The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted:
And barbarism itself have pitied him.Richard II.
10. Hear me, rash man, on thy allegiance hear me.
Since thou hast striven to make us break our vow,
(Which not our nature nor our plaoe can bear)
Wc banish thee forever from our sight

And kingdom. If, wher three days are expir'd,
Thy hated trunk be found in our dominions,

That moment is thy death. Away!

By Jupiter this shall not be revok'd-Tragedy of Lear.

11. If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and hindered me of half a million, laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled 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, aflections, passions? Is he not fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same summer and winter, as a ChristiaS 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 a Jew, what would 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.

12. Ye Amaranths! Ye roses, like the morn!
Sweet myrtles, and ye golden orange groves!
Joy giving, love inspiring, holy bower!
Know, in thy fragrant bosom, thou receiv'st
A murd'rer? Oh, I shall stain thy lilies,
And horror will usurp the scat of bliss!
-Ha! She sleeps-

The duy's uncommon heat has overcome her.

Then take, my longing eyes, your last full gaze—
Oh, what a sight is here! How dreadful fair!
Who would not think that being innocent!

Where shall 1 strike! Who strikes her, strikes himself— My own life's blood will issue at her wound—

But see she smiles! I never shall smile more—

It strongly tempts me to a parting kiss—

Ha, smile again! She dreams of him she loves.—
Curse on her charms! I'll stab her through them all.




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