MURDER, RICHARD THE SECOND,continued.

I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
But neither my good word, nor princely favour;
With Cain go wander through the shade of night,
And never shew thy head by day, nor light.

PRINCE ARTHUR.

R.II. v. 6.

Hubert. Here is your hand and seal for what I did. King John.-O, when the last account 'twixt heaven and earth

Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal

Witness against us to damnation!

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds,

Makes deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by,
A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd,
Quoted, and sign'd, to do a deed of shame,
This murder had not come into my mind:
But, taking note of thy abhor'd aspéct,
Finding thee fit for bloody villany,
Apt, liable, to be employ'd in danger,
I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death;
And thou, to be endeared to a king,

Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
Hadst thou but shook thy head, or made a pause,
When I spake darkly what I purposed;
Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face,

As bid me tell my tale in express words;

Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off,

And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me;
But thou didst understand me by my signs,

And didst in signs again parley with sin;

Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent,
And, consequently, thy rude hand to act

The deed, which both our tongues held vile to name.-
Out of my sight, and never see mẹ more!

SUSPICION OF.

If thou didst but consent

To this most cruel act, do but despair,

And, if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread

That ever spider twisted from her womb

Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be

K. J. iv. 2.

A beam to hang thee on; or would'st thou drown thyself,
Put but a little water in a spoon,

And it shall be as all the ocean,
Enough to stifle such a villain up.—
I do suspect thee very grievously.

K. J. iv. 3.

MUSIC.

Coine, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn;
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
And draw her home with music.

Let music sound while he doth make his choice;
Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end,
Fading in music. That the comparison

M. V. v. 1.

May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream,
And wat'ry death-bed for him: He may win;

And what is music then? Then music is
Even as the flourish when true subjects bow
To a new-crowned monarch; such it is,
As are those dulcet sounds in break of day,
That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear,
And summon him to marriage.

M. V. iii. 2. Come on; tune: If you can penetrate her with your fingering, so; we'll try with tongue too: if none will do, let her remain; but I'll never give o'er. First, a very excellent good-conceited thing, after a wonderful sweet air, with admirable rich words to it,-and then let her consider.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night,
Become the touches of sweet harmony.

Sitting on a bank,

Weeping against the king my father's wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters;
Allaying both their fury and my passion,
With its sweet air.

'Tis good tho' music oft hath such a charm,

Cym. ii. 3.

M.V. v. 1.

T. i. 2.

To make bad good; and good provoke to harm. M. M. iv. 1.

And it will discourse most eloquent music.

H. iii. 2.

Preposterous ass! that never read so far,

To know the cause why music was ordain'd t
Was it not to refresh the mind of man,
After his studies, or his usual pain?
Then give me leave to read philosophy,

And, while I pause, serve in your harmony.

T.S. iii. 1.

I'm never merry, when I hear sweet music.

The reason is, your spirits are attentive:

For do but note a wild and wanton herd,

Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,

Fetching mad bounds, hellowing and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood:

If they perchance but hear a trumpet sound,

MUSIC,-continued.

Or any air of music touch their ears,

You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze,

By the sweet power of music: Therefore, the poet
Did fein that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods;
Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,

But music for the time doth change his nature. M. V. v. 1.

The man that hath not music in himself,

Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,

Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;

The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted.

M.V. v. 1.

T. G. iii. 2.

For Orpheus' lute was stung with poets' sinews,
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones;
Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans
Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
If music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.-
That strain again;—it had a dying fall :

O, it came o'er mine ear like the sweet south,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour.

Once I sat upon a promontory,

And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back,
Uttering such duleet and harmonious breath,
That the rude sea grew civil at her song;
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,
To hear the sea-maid's music.

Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends;
Unless some dull and favourable hand

T. N. i. 1.

M. N. ii. 2.

Will whisper music to my weary spirit. H. IV. PT. 11. iv. 4.

Then music, with her silver sound,

With speedy help doth lend redress.

R. J. iv. 5.

Tax not so bad a voice

M. A. ii. 3.

To slander music any more than once.

But, masters, here's money for you: and the general so likes your music, that he desires you, of all loves, to make no more noise with it.

Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays,
And twenty caged nightingales do sing.
Give me some music; music, moody food
Of us that trade in love. The music, ho!

O. iii. 1.

T. S. IND. 2.

A. C. ii. 5.

1

MUSIC,―continued.

I am advised to give her music o'mornings: they say it

will penetrate.

The choir,

With all the choicest music of the kingdom,
Together sung Te Deum.

MUSICIAN.

He plays o' th' viol-de-gambo.

MUSTERING.

Cym. ii. 3.

H.VIII. iv. 1.

T. N. i. 3.

Call forth your actors by the scroll. Masters, spread

yourselves.

MUTABILITY.

How chances mock,

And changes fill the cup of alteration
With divers liquors !

M. N. i. 2.

H. IV. PT. II. iii. 1.

To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander till he find it stopping a bung-hole?

Imperious Cæsar, dead, and turn'd to clay,

Might stop a hole, to keep the wind away:

O, that the earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw!

All things that we ordained festival,
Turn from their office to black funeral:
Our instruments, to melancholy bells;
Our wedding cheer, to a sad burial feast;
Our solemn hymns, to sullen dirges change;
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
And all things change them to the contrary.
This world is not for aye; nor 'tis not strange,
That even our love should with our fortunes change;
For 'tis a question left us yet to prove,
Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.

Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be!

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?

MYSTERIOUS.

H. i. 5. K. L. i. 5.

It was not brought me, my lord, there's the cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the casement of my closet.

K. L. i 2.

NAIADS.

N.

You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the wand'ring brooks,
With your sedg'd crowns and ever harmless looks,
Leave your crisp'd channels, and on this green land
Answer your summons.

NAME.

T. iv. 1.

Brutus and Cæsar: what should be in that Cæsar?
Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
Write them together, yours is as fair a name;
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with them,
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar.
Now in the names of all the gods.at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown so great.

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy,-
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose,
By any other name would smell as sweet.

I do beseech you,

(Chiefly, that I might set it in my prayers,)
What is your name?

Romeo, deff thy name;

J. C. i. 2.

R. J. ii. 2.

T. iii. 1.

And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.

R. J. ii. 2.

Nature hath meal, and bran; contempt, and grace.

- One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.

How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature!

Cym. iv. 2.

T. C. iii. 3. Cym. iii. 3.