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I, that deny'd thee gold, will give my heart:

Strike, as thou didst at Cæsar! for, I know,

When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'dst him better Than ever thou lov'dst Cassius.

Bru.

Sheathe your dagger:

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.
O Cassius! you are yoked with a lamb
That carries anger, as the flint bears fire;
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.

Cas.
Hath Cassius lived
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief, and blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him?
Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand!
Bru. And my heart too.

Cas. O Brutus!....

Bru. What's the matter?

Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour, which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful?

Bru.

Yes, Cassius; and, henceforth,

When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,

He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.

δώσω, φθονήσας χρημάτων, τοὐμὸν κέαρ. 15 παῖς, ὡς πάροιθε Καίσαρ ̓· εὖ δ ̓ ἐπίσταμαι, κεῖνον, μάλιστα καίπερ ἐχθαίρων, ὅμως μᾶλλον τότ ̓ ἐφίλεις, ἢ σὺ Κάσσιόν ποτε. ΒΡ. Κολεῶν ἔσωθεν φάσγανον μέθες πάλιν

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θυμοῦ δ ̓, ὅταν περ καὶ θέλῃς· ἔξεστί σοι· πᾶν τλῆθ ̓· ὕβριν σὴν εἰς τὸ λῆμ ̓ ἀνοίσομεν. ὦ Κάσσι ̓ ἀρνὶ δή τινι ξυνεζύγης, ὀργὰς φέροντι, πῦρ ὅπως θραυστη πέτρα, ἣ, πόλλ ̓ ἀναγκασθεῖσα, πρὸς βίαν βραχὺν σπινθῆρ ̓ ἀφῆκε, κατ ̓ ἀνεψύχθη πάλιν. ΚΑΣ. ἆρ ̓ εἰς τόδ' ἥκει Κάσσιος, Βρούτῳ φίλῳ ἅπας γενέσθαι παῖγμα καὶ γέλως, ὅταν λύπαι νιν ἐξαίρωσι, καὶ θυμὸς βαρύς; ΒΡ. λέγων ἐκεῖνα καὐτὸς ἦν ἐγὼ βαρύς. ΚΑΣ. ξύμφης τόδ'; οὔκουν δεξιὰν δώσεις χέρα; 30 ΒΡ. καὶ καρδίαν γ'.

ΚΑΣ.

ΒΡ.

ὦ Βρούτε.

πῆ λέγεις τόδε ;

ΚΑΣ. ἆρ ̓ οὐ φιλεῖς τοσόνδε μ', ὥστε καρτερεῖν, εἴ μ' ἡ θρασεία, τὴν ἔχω μητρὸς πάρα, φύσις τίθησι τῶν καλῶν ἀμνήμονα ; μάλισθ', ὅταν δ ̓ οὖν γλῶσσ ̓ ὑπέρπικρος σέθεν εἰς Βροῦτον ᾖ τὰ λοιπὰ, ταῦθ ̓ ἡγούμενος σὴν μητέρ', οὐ σὲ, κερτομεῖν, ἀνέξομαι.

BP.

HENRY VIII. ACT. 5. Sc. 4.

THIS Royal Infant, (Heaven still move about her!)
Though in her cradle, yet now promises

Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
Which time shall bring to ripeness: She shall be
(But few now living can behold that goodness)
A pattern to all princes living with her,
And all that shall succeed: Sheba was never
More covetous of wisdom, and fair virtue,
Than this pure soul shall be: all princely graces,
That mould up such a mighty piece as this is,
With all the virtues that attend the good,

Shall still be doubled on her: Truth shall nurse her,
Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her:

She shall be lov'd, and fear'd: her own shall bless her;
Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,
And hang their heads with sorrow: Good grows with her:
In her days, every man shall eat in safety,
Under his own vine, what he plants; and sing
The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours:
God shall be truly known; and those about her
From her shall read the perfect ways of honour,
And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.

ΠΑΙΣ ἥδε βασιλίς, ἵλεων ἔχοι θεόν,
ἐν σπαργάνοις περ, εὔχεται ταύτῃ χθονὶ
δότειρ ̓ ἔσεσθαι μυρίων εὐπραξίων,

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αἳ ξὺν χρόνῳ λάμψουσιν· ἐκφανίσεται, παύροι δὲ τῶν νῦν τοῦτ ̓ ἐπόψονται βροτῶν, τοῖς τηνικαῦτα τοῖς τ ̓ ἔπειτα κοιράνοις κλεινόν τι παράδειγμα· οὐ γὰρ ἦν Σάβῃ πάλαι σοφῆς προνοίας κἀρετῆς τοσόσδ ̓ ἔρως ὅσος ποτ ̓ ἔσται τῇδε· πάνθ' ἃ κοιράνῳ, καὶ πάνθ ̓ ἃ σεμνῇ παρθένῳ πρέποντ ̓ ἔφυ, καὶ πάνθ' ὅσ ̓ ἔστιν ἐν βροτοῖς ἐσθλοῖς καλὰ, ἐν τῇδ ̓ ἔνεσται, καὶ διπλῶς φανήσεται. ἀεί νιν ἁλήθεια παιδεύσει φίλως, εὖ νουθετήσει κέδν ̓ ἀεὶ φρονήματα. ἄνδρων ἔρωτα τεύξεται, δέος θ ̓ ἅμα ὑπηκόοις γὰρ φιλτάτη γενήσεται, φρίξουσι δ' ἐχθροὶ, γηγενὴς ὥσπερ στάχυς, ὑπ ̓ ἀλγέων νεύοντες εἰς πέδον κάρα. ἅπαν τὸ χρηστὸν τῇδε σύμφυτον πέλει. ἐπὶ τῆσδε, πᾶς τις, ἥμενος παρ ̓ ἄμπελον, καρπώσεται γῆς δῶρα, δαῖτε αὐτόσπορον, φιλοῖς ξυνάδων τερπνὸν εἰρήνης νόμον. τὸ Θεῖον ὀρθῶς ἐν βροτοῖς γνωσθήσεται. οἱ δ ̓ ἀμφὶ ταύτην ἐκμαθήσονται σαφῶς, ταύτην βλέποντες, παντελῆ τιμῆς ὁδὸν, ἔργων ἀγαυῶν μᾶλλον ἢ γένους χάριν κάλον θέλοντες στέφανον εὐκλείας ἔχειν.

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Nor shall this peace sleep with her: but, as when
The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix,
Her ashes new create another heir,

As great in admiration as herself:

So shall she leave her blessedness to one

(When Heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness) Who, from the sacred ashes of her honour,

Shall, star-like, rise as great in fame as she was,

And so stand fix'd.

MERCHANT OF VENICE. ACT 4. Sc. 1.

PORTIA. ANTONIO. SHYLOCK.

[1824.

Por. Or a strange nature is the suit you

Yet in such rule, that the Venetian law

Cannot impugn you, as you do proceed.

follow;

You stand within his danger, do you not? (to Ant.) Ant. Aye, so he says.

Por.

Ant. I do.

Por.

Do you confess the bond?

Then must the Jew be merciful.

Shy. On what compulsion must I? Tell me that. Por. The quality of mercy is not strain'd: It droppeth as the gentle dew from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless'd; It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes: 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown: His sceptre shews the force of temporal power,

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