ORDER,-continued.

The world is still deceiv'd with ornament. In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, But, being season'd with a gracious voice, Obscures the show of evil? In religion, What damned error, but some sober brow Will bless it, and approve it with a text, Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? ORNAMENT.

Thus ornament is but the guiled shore

To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf
Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,

The seeming truth which cunning times put on
To entrap the wisest.

OTHELLO'S APOLOGY.

Rude am I in speech,

M.V. iii. 2.

M.V. iii. 2.

And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace;
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us'd
Their dearest action in the tented field;
And little of this great world can I speak,
More than pertains to feats of broil and battle;
And therefore little shall I grace my cause,

In speaking for myself: Yet, by your gracious patience,
I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver

Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms,
What conjuration, and what mighty magic,

(For such proceeding I am charg'd withal)

I won his daughter with.

Her father lov'd me; oft invited me;
Still question'd me the story of my life,
From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have pass'd.

I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bade me tell it.
Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances,

Of moving accidents by flood and field;

Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach;

Of being taken by the insolent foe,

And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,

And portance in my travel's history:

Wherein of antres vast, and desarts wild,

Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven,

It was my hint to speak. Such was my process;

And of the cannibals that each other eat,

The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads

Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to hear,

OTHELLO'S APOLOGY,-continued.

Would Desdemona seriously incline:

But still the house affairs would draw her thence;
Which ever as she could with haste despatch,
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse: Which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour; and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart,
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
But not distinctively. I did consent;
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke,
That my youth suffer'd. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs;

She swore,-In faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange,
'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful:

She wish'd' she had not heard it; yet she wish'd
That heaven had made her such a man.

She thank'd me;

And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her,

I should but teach him how to tell my story,

And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake ;
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd;
And I lov'd her, that she did pity them:
This only is the witchcraft I have us'd;
Here comes the lady, let her witness it.

FAREWELL.

O now, for ever,

Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content!
Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,
That make ambition virtue! O, farewell!
Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,
The royal banner; and all quality,

Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
And, O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats
The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,
Farewell!-Othello's occupation's gone!

HANDKERCHIEF.

There's magic in the web of it:

A sybil, that had number'd in the world
The sun to make two hundred compasses,

In her prophetic fury sew'd the work:

The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk;
And it was dy'd in mummy, which the skilful
Conserv'd of maidens' hearts.

O. i. 3.

O. iii. 3.

O. iii. 4.

OVERMATCHED.

If there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, I am no two-legged creature. H.IV. PT. I. ii. 4.

OUTCAST.

I am one my liege,

Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Have so incens'd, that I am reckless what

I do to spite the world.

So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune,
That I would set my life on any chance
To mend it, or be rid on't.

M. iii. 1.

M. iii. 1.

H. IV. PT. I. iv. 3.

Sick in the world's regard, wretched, and low,
A poor unminded outlaw.

OUTRAGEOUSNESS.

Why, this passes, Mister Ford: you are not to go loose any longer, you must be pinioned.

M. W. iv. 2.

Why, this is lunatics.

M. W. iv. 2.

Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from
A root of antient envy.

O, let me twine

Mine arms about that body, where against

My grained ash an hundred times hath broke,
And scarr'd the moon with splinters!

PAINTING (See also PORTRAIT).
Dost thou love pictures?

We will fetch thee straight

Adonis, painted by a running brook:

And Cytherea, all in sedges hid;

Which seem to move and wanton with her breath,

Even as the waving sedges play with wind.

We'll show thee Io, as she was a maid;

And how she was beguiled and surpris'd,

As lively painted as the deed was done.

Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny wood;

Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds;

And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep,

So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn. T. S. IND. 2.

PAINTING,—continued.

Painting is welcome,

The painting is almost the natural man;

For since dishonour trafficks with man's nature,
He is but outside: These pencil'd figures are
Ev'n such as they give out.

It is a pretty mocking of the life.

How this grace

Speaks his own standing! what a mental power
shoots forth! How big imagination

This eye.
Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture
One might interpret.

T. A. i. 1.

T. A. i. 1.

T. A. i. 1.

T. A. i. 1

Timon.-Wrought he not well that painted this? Apemantus. He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.

PALLIATION.

Some sins do bear their privilege on earth,
And so doth your's.

PALPABILITY.

Day-light and champian discovers not more.

PANIC.

T. A. i. 1.

K. J. i. 1.

T.N. ii. 5.

These are old fond paradoxes, to make fool's laugh i' the alehouse.

PARASITES (See also FLATTERY).

That, Sir, which serves and seeks for gain,

And follows but for form,

Will pack, when it begins to rain,

And leave thee in the storm.

O, you gods! what a number

Of men eat Timon, and he sees them not!
It grieves me, to see so many dip their meat
In one man's blood; and all the madness is,
He cheers them up too.

O. ii. 1.

K. L. ii. 4.

T.A. i. 2.

PARASITES,-continued.

'Tis such as you,

That creep like shadows by him, and do sigh
At each his needless heavings,—such as you
Nourish the cause of his awakings: I

Do come with words as med'cinal as true,
Honest, as either; to purge him of that humour
That presses him from sleep.

It is the curse of kings, to be attended

By slaves, that take their humour for a warrant
To break within the bloody house of life;

And, on the winking of authority,

To understand a law: to know the meaning

W.T. ii. 3.

Of dangerous majesty, when, perchance, it frowns
More upon honour than advis'd respect.

K. J. iv. 2.

Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers;
These flies are couch'd.

T.A. ii. 2.

To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel,
And think with wagging of your tongue to win me
But whatso'er thou tak'st me for, I am sure
Thou hast a cruel nature, and a bloody.

H.VIII. v. 2.

O villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption !
Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man!
Snakes, in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my heart!
R. II. iii. 2.

When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found them, there I smelt them out. Go to, they are not men o' their words: they told me I was every thing;-'tis a lie; I'm not ague-proof. K. L. iv. 6.

May you a better feast never behold,

You knot of mouth-friends! Smoke and luke-warm water

Is your perfection. This is Timon's last;

Who stuck and spangled you with flatteries,
Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces
Your reeking villainy. Live loath'd, and long,
Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites,
Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meak bears,
You fools of fortune, trencher friends, time's flies,
Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks!
Of man, and beast, the infinite malady
Crust you quite o'er!

PARDON.

Yes, I do think that you might pardon him,
And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy.

T.A. ii. 6

M.M. ii. 2.