FAITHFULNESS ADMIRED EVEN MINE honesty, and I, begin to square. Does conquer him that did his master conquer, And earns a place i' the story. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA, A. 3, s. 11. FALSTAFF'S PHILOSOPHY OF MENTAL AND PHYSICAL COURAGE. GOOD faith, this same young sober-blooded boy doth not love me; nor a man cannot make him laugh;-but that's no marvel, he drinks no wine. There's never any of these demure boys come to any proof; for thin drink doth so overcool their blood, and making many fish-meals, that they fall into a kind of male green-sickness; and then, when they marry, they get wenches: they are generally fools and cowards;-which some of us should be too, but for inflammation. A good sherris-sack hath a two-fold operation in it. It ascends into the brain; dries there all the foolish, and dull, and crudy vapours which environ it makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes; which delivered o'er to 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 pusillanimity and cowardice: but the sherris warms it and makes it course from the inwards to the parts extreme. It illumineth 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 petty spirits, 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 sherris: So that skill in the weapon is nothing without sack; for that sets it a-work: and learning a mere hoard of gold kept by a devil; 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 excellent endeavour of drinking good, and good store of fertile sherris; that he is become very hot, and valiant. If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle I would teach them, should be,-to forswear thin potations, and addict themselves to sack. K. HENRY IV., PART II., A. 4, s. 3. FATALISM. My fate cries out, And makes each petty artery in this body HAMLET, A. 1, s. 4. FATE OF FAVOURITES. BRING forth these men. Bushy, and Green, I will not vex your souls (Since presently your souls must part your bodies,) With too much urging your pernicious lives, And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks wrongs. Myself a prince, by fortune of my birth; Raz'd out my motto, leaving me no sign,— This, and much more, much more than twice all this, Condemns you to the death :-See them deliver'd over To execution, and the hand of death. K. RICHARD II., A. 3, s. 1. FEAST WON-FAST LOST. FLAVIUS. If you suspect my husbandry, or falsehood, Call me before the exactest auditors, And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me, When all our officers have been oppress'd With riotous feeders: when our vaults have wept With drunken spilth of wine; when every room Hath blaz'd with lights, and bray'd with minstrelsy; I have retir'd me to a wasteful cock, And set mine eyes at flow. ΤΙΜΟΝ. Pr'ythee, no more. FLAV. Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord! How many prodigal bits have slaves, and peasants, This night englutted! Who is not Timon's? What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is lord Timon's? Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon? Ah! when the means are gone, that buy this praise, The breath is gone whereof this praise is made: Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers, These flies are couch'd. TIMON OF ATHENS, A. 2, s. 2. FEELING. THY heart is big, get thee apart and weep. JULIUS CESAR, A. 3, s. 1. FEELING MAY TEMPER, BUT MAY NOT OVERCOME, JUSTICE. THESE Couchings, and these lowly courtesies, Low crook'd curtsies, and base spaniel fawning. If thou dost bend, and pray, and fawn, for him, I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. Know, Cæsar doth not wrong: nor without cause Will he be satisfied. JULIUS CESAR, a. 3, s. 1. FEELING WITHOUT PRINCIPLE. O, WORLD, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn, Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise, Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love On a dissention of a doit, break out To take the one the other, by some chance, Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends, |