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Suit the Action to the Word & the Word to the Action; with this special observance, that you oerftep not the Modefty of Nature.
BOOK THE THIRD.
§ 1. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. SHAKSPEARE.
BE E thou bleft, Bertram, and fucceed thy father, In manners as in shape; thy blood and virtue Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness Share with thy birth-right. Love all; truft a few;
Do wrong to none; be able for thine enemy
Too ambitions Love.
I am undone; there is no living, none, If Bertram be away. It were all one, That I fhould love a bright particular star, And think to wed it, he is fo above me! In his bright radiance and collateral light Muft I be comforted, not in his sphere. Th' ambition in my love thus plagues itfelf: The hind that would be mated by the lion Muft die for love. 'Twas pretty, tho' a plague, To fee him every hour; to fit and draw His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, In our heart's table: heart, too capable Of every line and trick of his fweet favour! But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy Muft fanctify his relics.
A parafitical, vain Coward.
I know him a notorious liar; Think him a great way fool, folely a coward; Yet thefe fix'd evils fit fo fit in him, That they take place, when virtue's ftcely bones Look bleak in the cold wind: withal, full oft we
Cold wifdom waiting on fuperfluous folly.
The Remedy of Evils generally in ourselves. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we afcribe to Heav'n. The fated sky Gives us free fcope; only doth backward pull Our flow defigns, when we ourselves are dull. Impoffible be strange attempts to those
That weigh their pain in fenfe, and do suppose What hath been cannot be. Who ever ftrove To fhew her merit, that did mifs her love?
Character of a noble Courtier, by an old Cotemporary.
King. I would I had that corporal foundness
As when thy father and myself in friendship
In their poor praise he humbled: fuch a man
fay(Methinks I hear him now) his plaufive words Na