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Every one lets forth his spright,
In the church-way paths to glide.
By the triple Hecate's team,
Following darkness like a dream,
sweep the dust behind the door.
5. ARIEL'S SONG: FULL FATHOM.
Of his bones are coral made;
Nothing of him that doth fade,
6. ARIEL'S SONG : WHERE THE BEE.
After sun-set merrily :
7. THE PROGRESS OF LIFE.
All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players : They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts; His acts being seven ages. At first the infant Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms; And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad
Reason thus with life : If I do lose thee I do lose a thing, That none but fools woulc keep; a breath thou art, Servile to all the skiey influences, That do this habitation, where thou keepest, Hourly afflict : merely thou art death's fool; For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun, And yet runn'st toward him still. Thou art not noble : For all th' accommodations that thou bearest Are nursed by baseness : thou’rt by no means valiant; For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.
Thou’rt not thyself ; For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not; For what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get: And what thou hast, forgettest. Thou art not certain : For thy complexion shifts to strange effects, After the moon.
If thou art rich, thou'rt poor ·
And vanish'd from our sight.
'Tis very strange!
Ham. Indeed, indeed, Sir, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night? Hon. We do, my lord.
HAM. Arm'd, say you ? Hor. Arm’d, my lord. Ham. From top to toe ? HOR. My lord, from head H'dlm. Then saw you not his face ?
[to foot. Hor. O yes, my lord ; he wore his beaver up. HAM What, look'd he frowningly ? Hor. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. Ham. Pale or red. Hor. Nay, very pale. Ham. And fixed his eyes upon you ? Hor. Most conHam. I would I had been there! [stantly. Hor. It would have much amaz'd you. Ham. Very like, very like. Staid it long? Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a Ham. His beard was grizzled ?--no
hundred. Hor. It was as I have seen it in his life, A sable silver'd.
Ham. I'll watch to-night; perchance 'twill walk again.
noble father's person,
. Upon the platform 'twixt eleven and twelve
l'll visit you.
10. QUEEN MAB.
Drawn with a team of little atomies,
11. THE APOTHECARY.
A beggarly account of empty boxes;
12. HOTSPUR'S DESCRIPTION OF A FOP. I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly drest; Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin, new reaped, Showed like a stubble land at harvest home. He was perfumed like a milliner; And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet-box, which ever and anon He gave his nose, and took it away again; Who, therewith angry, when it next came there, Took it in snuff.—And still he smiled and talked ; And as the soldiers bare dead bodies by, He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unbandsome corse Betwixt the wind and his nobility. With many holiday and lady-terms He questioned me: amongst the rest demanded My prisoners in your majesty's behalf. I then, all smarting with my wounds, being galled To be so pestered with a popinjay, Out of my grief, and my impatience, Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what: He should, or should not: for he made me mad, To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman, Of guns and drums, and wounds : (God save the mark!)