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Fire answers fire; and through their paly flames,
Each battle sees the other's umbered face:
Steed threatens steed in high and boastful neighs,
Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents,
The armourers accomplishing the knights,
With busy hammers closing rivets up,
Give dreadful note of preparation..
The country cocks do crow; the clocks do toll,
And the third hour of drowsy morning name.
Proud of their numbers, and secure in soul,
The confident and over-lusty French
Do the low-rated English play at dice;
And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night,
Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp
So tediously away. The poor condemned English,
Like sacrifices by their watchful fires
Sit patiently, and inly ruminate
The morning's danger; and their gestures sad,
Investing lank-lean cheeks, and war-worn coats,
Presenteth them unto the gazing moon
So many horrid ghosts.
He that hath a beard is more than a youth: and he that hath none, is less than a man. M. A. ii. 1.
Now, Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard! T. N. iii. 1.
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
Had he been Adam he had tempted Eve:
He can carve too, and lisp: Why this is he,
That kiss'd away his hand in courtesy ;
This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice,
That when he plays at tables, chides the dice
In honourable terms.
Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good,
A shining gloss that vadeth suddainly,
A flower that dies, when first it 'gins to bud,
A brittle glass that's broken presently.
A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,
Lost, vaded, broken, dead, within an hour.
of these lisping hawthorn buds, that come
like women in men's apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury
M. W. iii. 3.
By Jupiter, an angel! or, if not,
An earthly paragon!
A wither'd hermit, five score winters worn,
Might shake off fifty looking in her eye.
The most peerless piece of earth, I think,
That e'er the sun shone bright on.
'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on :
Lady, you are the cruellest she alive,
If you will lead these graces to the grave,
And leave the world no copy.
There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple.
Her sunny locks
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece.
As plays the sun upon the glassy streams;
Twinkling another counterfeited beam,
So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes.
This is such a creature,
Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal
Of all professors else; make proselytes
Of who she but bid follow.
Cym. iii. 6.
L. L. iv. 3.
O speak again, bright angel! for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,
As is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes
Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him,
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds,
And sails upon the bosom of the air.
O she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.
T. N. i. 5.
T. i. 2.
M. V. i. 1.
I saw her once
Hop forty paces through the public street
And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted,
That she did make defect perfection,
And, breathless, power breathe forth.
All hearts in love use their own tongues;
Let every eye negociate for itself,
And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch,
Against whose charms faith melteth into blood. M. A. ii. 1.
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues. L. L. ii. 1.
She's a most exquisite lady.
O. ii. 3.
She's beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd:
She is a woman; therefore to be won. H.VI. PT. I. v. 3.
It shall be inventoried; and every particle, and utensil, labelled to my will; as, item, two lips, indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. T. N. i. 4.
I know a wench of excellent discourse,
Pretty, and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle.
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
There was never yet fair woman but she
in a glass.
C. E. iii. 1. A. Y. i. 3. made mouths K. L. iii. 2.
When in the chronicle of wasted time,
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making beautiful old rime,
In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights,
Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's hest,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have expressed
Even such a beauty as you master now.
O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despised substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
A damned saint, an honourable villain !-
O, nature-what had'st thou to do in hell,
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh ?
Was ever book, containing such vile matter,
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!
R. J. iii. 2.
T. C. v. 2.
O beauty! where's thy faith!
Honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey sauce to
A. V. iii. 3.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms,
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheep cotes, and mills,
Sometimes with lunatic bans, sometimes with prayers,
Inforce their charity.
K. L. ii. 3.
So work the honey bees;
Creatures, that by a rule in nature teach
The art of order to a peopled kingdom.
They have a king, and officers of sorts;
Where some, like magistrates, correct at home;
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad;
Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings,
Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds;
Which pillage they with merry march bring home,
To the tent-royal of their emperor;
Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
The singing masons building roofs of gold;
The civil citizens kneading up the honey;
The poor mechanic porters crowding in
Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate;
The sad-ey'd justice, with his surly hum,
Delivering o'er to executors pale
The lazy yawning drone.
The adage must be verified,
That beggars mounted, run their horse to death.
Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail,
And say, there is no sin, but to be rich;
And being rich, my virtue then shall be,
To say, there is no vice but beggary.
Speak with me, pity me, open the door,
A beggar begs that never begg'd before.
K. J. ii. 2.
What! a young knave, and beg! Is there not wars? is there not employment? Doth not the king lack subjects? Do not the rebels need soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make it. H. IV. PT. II. i. 2.
You taught me first to beg; and now, methinks,
You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd.
Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hailstones, go!
Trudge, plod, away, o' th' hoof; seek shelter, pack!
BENEDICTION (See also SALUTATION).
The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew!
May he live!
Longer than I have time to tell his years!
Ever belov'd, and loving may his rule be!
And when old Time shall lead him to his end,
Goodness and he fill up one monument!
Bless thy five wits.
And make me die a good old man!
That is the butt end of a mother's blessing;
I marvel that her grace did leave it out.
All the gods go with you! upon your sword
Sit laurell'd victory! and smooth success
Be strew'd before your feet.
Mars dote on you for his novices.
Now the fair goddess, Fortune,
Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms
Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman,
Prosperity be thy page!
BEWAILINGS (See also LAMENTATION).
Where thou didst vent thy groans
As fast as mill-wheels strike.
What care these roarers for the name of king? BIOGRAPHY.
To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.
Such a pleasure as incaged birds
Conceive, when, after many moody thoughts,
At last, by notes of household harmony,
They quite forget their loss of liberty.
H. VIII. ii. 1.
K. L. iii. 4.