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• Whom the gods love die young.'
(Friar Laurence loq.)
HEAVEN and yourself Had part in this fair maid ; now heaven hath all, And all the better is it for the maid: Your part in her you could not keep from death, But heaven keeps his part in eternal life. The most you sought was her promotion ; For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced : And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself? 0, in this love, you love your child so ill, That you run mad, seeing that she is well : She's not well married that lives married long; But she's best married that dies married young.
Romeo and Juliet, iv. 5.
like the self-same sea
Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast,
To kings that fear their subjects' treachery?
Third Part of King Henry VI., ii. 5.
How fearful And dizzy 't is, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles : halfway down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark, Diminished to her cock; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge, That on the unnumbered idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high.
I'll look no more; Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong.
King Lear, iv. 6.
THE USES OF ADVERSITY.
(Duke loq.) Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference, as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, “This is no flattery: these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.' Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head. And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
As You Like It, ii. 1.
SHE never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed ?
Twelfth Night, ii.
WORTH v. BIRTH.
STRANGE is it that our bloods, Of colour, weight, and heat, poured all together, Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off In differences so mighty. If she be All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest, A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest Of virtue for the name : but do not so : From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, The place is dignified by the doer's deed: Where great additions swell’t, and virtue none, It is a dropsied honour. Good alone Is good, without a name: vileness is so: The property by what it is should go, Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; In these to nature she's immediate heir; And these breed honour : that is honour's scorn, Which challenges itself as honour's born, And is not like the sire : honours best thrive, When rather from our acts we them derive Than our foregoers : the mere word's a slave, Debauched on every tomb; on every grave