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Hated by one he loves; hrav'd by his brother;
When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'st him better Than ever thou lov'st Cassius.
Bru. Sheath your dagger,
Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
Cas. Hath Cassius lived
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
Cas. O Brutus !
Bru. What's the matter?
Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When the rash humor which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful?
Bru. Yes, Cassius; and from henceforth,
II-SPEECHES AND SOLILOQUIES.
Tragedy Of Hamlet.
SPEAK the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you; trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town crier had spoken my lines. And do not saw the air too
much with your hands; but use all gently: For in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. Oh! it offends me to the soul, to hear a robusteous, perriwig pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings; who (Tor the most part) are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise. Pray yon avoid it.
Be not too tame, neither; but let your own discretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep net the modesty of nature; for any thing so overdone is from the purpose of playing; whose end is to hold as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy of, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of one of which must, in your allowance, o'crweigh a whole theatre of others. Oh! There be players that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, that, neither having the accent of Christian, nor the gait of Christian, pagan nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
II-Douglas' Account of himself
Tragedy Of Douglass.
MY name is Norral. On the Grampian hills
For I had heard of battles, and I long'd
To follow to the field some warlike lord;
And heaven soon granted what my sire denied.
This moon, which rose last night, round as my shield,
Sweeping our flocks and herds. The shepherds ded
With bended bow, and quiver full of arrows
Hover'd about the enemy, and mark'd
I met advancing. The pursuit Hed,
Till we o'crtook the spoil encumber'd foe.
We fought and conquer'd. Ere a sword was drawn,
The shepherd's slothful life; and having heard
III.-Dcuglas' Account of the Hermit.—1b.
Who was the wonder of our wand'ring swains.
Did they report him; the cold earth his bed,
For he had been a soldier in his youth;"
His speech struck from me, the old man would shake
His years away, and act his young encounters :
Then, having show'd his wounds, he'd sit him down,
IV. Sempronius' Speech for War.—Trag. Of Cato.
MY voice is still for war.
Gods! Can a Roman senate long debate,
Which ol the two to choose, slavery or death!
May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage.
Or share their fate. The corps of half her senate
If we should sacrifice our lives to honor,
V.—Lucius' Speech for Peace.—Ib.
MY thoughts, I must confess, are turn'd on peace;
'Tis time to sheath the sword, and spare mankind.
But free the commonwealth. When this end fails,
That drew our swords, now wrests them from our hands,
And bids us not delight in Roman blocd
Unprofitably shed. What men couid do,
Is done already. Heaven and earth will witness,
VI-Hoispur's Account of the Fop.—Henry IV.
MY liege, I did deny no prisoners.
Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
Came there a certain lord; neat; trimly dress'd;
And, 'twixt his finger and his thumb, he held
He gave his nose.
And still he smil'd and talk'd :
And as the soldiers bare dead bodies by,
He questional me; among the rest, demanded
I then, all smarting with my wounds, being gall'd
Out of my grief and my impatience,
He should or should not; for he made me mad,
To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman,
Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (heaven save the mark !)
Was spermaceti fer an inward bruise;
And that it was great pity, (so it was)
And I beseech you, let not this report
Betwixt my love, and your high Majesty.
VII Hotspur'a Soliloquy on the Contents of a Letter.
"BUT, for mine own part my lord, I could be well contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear youv house." —He could be contented to be there! Why is he not then?In respect of the love he bears Our house? He shows in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our house. Let me see some more. "The purpose you undertake is dangerous." Why, that's certain 'tis dangerous te take a cold, to sleep, to drink ; Hн