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My fault is past. But, oh! what form of prayer
XII. Soliloquy of Hamlet on Death. To be-or not to be that is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to fuffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune ; Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And, by opposing, end them!--To dieto sleep No more-and, by a sleep, to say we end The heart-ach, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir too'tis a consumination Devoutly to be willi'd. To die-to fleep'To sleep-perchance to dream--ay, there's the rub For, in that sleep of death, what dreains may come, When we have fhuffled 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 infolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes
and fweat under a weary life,
XIII. Falstaff's Encomiums on Sack.
Good sherris-fack hath a two-fold operation in it.
It ascends me into the brain : dries me there, all the foolish, dull, and crudy vapours which environ it; makes it apprehensive, quick, inventive ; full of nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes; which, delivered over to the voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The second property of your excellent sherris, is the warming of the blood ; which, before, cold and settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the badge of pufillanimity and cowardice. But the sherris warms it, and makes it courfe from the inwards to the parts extreme. It illuminateth the face ; which, as a beacon, gives warning to all the rest of this little kingdom, man, to arm : and then, the vital commoners, and inland perty fpirits, muster me all to their captain, the heart; who, great, and puffed up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage and this valour comes of fherris. So that skill in the weapon is nothing without fack, for that lets it awork; and learning a mere hoard of gold kept by a de. vil, till sack commences it, and sets it in act and use. Hereof comes it that Prince Harry is valiant ; for the cold blood he did naturally inherit of his father, he hath, like lean, steril, and bare land, manured, husbanded, and tilled, with drinking good, and good store of fertile herris. If I had a thousand fons, the first human prin
PÁRT II. ciple I would-teach them, should be- To forswear thin potations, and to addiet themselves to fack.
XIV. Prologue to the Tragedy of Cato.
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart,
Britons attend. Be worth like this approy'd ;
With honeft scorn the first fam'd Cato view'd
xv. Cato's Soliloquy on the Immortality of the Soul. IT must be so-Plato, thou reason'st well!
Else, whence this pleafing hope, this fond defire, This longing after immortality? Or, whence this secret dread, and inward horrour, Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the foul Back on herself, and startles at destruction? "Tis the divinity that stirs within us : 'Tis Heaven itself, that points out an Hereafter, And intimates Eternity to man.' Eternity !-thou pleasing--dreadful thought ! Througl@what variety of uptry'd being, Through what new scenes and changes must we pass The wide, th' unbounded prospect lies before me ; But shadows, clouds, and darkness, reft upon it.Here will I hold. If there's a Pow'r above us, (And that there is, all Nature cries aloud Through all her works) He must delight in virtue ; And that which He delights in must be happy. But, when? or where? This world-was made for Cæfar, I'm weaty of conjectures--this must end them.
[Laying his hand on his sworda Thus I am doubly arm'd. My death and life, "My bane and antidote, are both before me. This, in a moment, brings me to an end; But this informs me I shall never die, The soul, secur'd in her existence-smiles At the drawn dagger, and defies its point. The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Grow dim with age, and nature link in years :But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth; Unhurt amidst the war of elements, The wrecks of matter, and the crush of worlds.
XVI. Lady Randolph's Soliloquy, lamenting the Death of
her Husband and Child. YE woods and wilds ! whose melancholy gloom
Accords with my foul's fadness, and draws forth The voice of sorrow from my bursting heartFarewel a while, I will not leave you long : For, in your shades, I deem fome spirit dwells ; Who, from the chiding stream, or groaning oak, Still hears, and answers to Matilda's moan. Oh, Douglas! Douglas ! if departed ghofts Are e'er permitted to review this world, Within the circle of that wood thou art; And, with the passion of immortals, hear'st My lamentation ; hear'st thy wretched wife Weep, for her husband Nain, her infant loft. My brother's timeless death I seem to mourn, Who perish'd wiih thee on this fatal day. To thee I lift iny voice ; to-thee address The plaint, which mortal ear has never heard. Oh! disregard me not. Though I am call'd Another's now, my heart is wholly thine. Incapable of change, affection lies Buried, my Douglas, in thy bloody grave. XVII. Speech of Henry Vth to his Soldiers at the Siege
of Harfleur. ONCE more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,
Or close the wall up with the English dead.