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These high wild hills, and rough uneven ways,
Think you, a little din can daunt mine ears ?
A flourish, trumpets !--strike alarum, drums !
of our conference :
It was the
When he speaks, The air, a charter'd libertine, is still, And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, To steal his sweet and honied sentences.
Friends, I owe more tears, To this dead man, than you shall see me pay.
You think I'll weep; No, I'll not weep. Though I have full cause of weeping, This heart shall break into a thousand flaws, Or e'er 1 weep:
I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forc'd me Out of thy honest truth to play the woman.
My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;
What I should say, My tears gainsay: for every word I speak, Ye see, I drink the water of mine eyes.
Then fresh tears Stood on her cheeks; as doth the honey dew Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd.
Patience and sorrow strove Which should express her goodliest.—You have seen Sun-shine and rain at once: Those happy smiles That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence, As pearls from diamonds dropp’d. The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd Those waters from me which I would have stopp'd ; But I had not so much of man in me, But all my mother came into my
I am a fool,
weep. Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, Began to water.
Touch me with noble anger ! o, let not woman's weapons, water-drops, Stain
is to make less the depth of grief: Tears, then, for babes; blows, and revenge for me!
The southern wind
fur dry, unbonneted he runs, And bids what will, take all.
Let the great Gods, That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, That hast within thee undivulged crimes, Unwipt off justice! Hide thee, thou bloody hand, Thou perjur'd, and thou simular man of virtue, That art incestuous ! caitiff, to pieces shake, That under covert and convenient seeming, Hast practis'd on man's life !—Close pent-up guilts, Rive your concealing continents, and cry These dreadful summoners grace. Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks ! rage ! blow! You cataracts and hurricanos, spout Till
you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks ! You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunder-bolts, Singe my white head! And thou all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world !
children, You owe me no subscription; why then let fall Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your slave, A poor, infirm, weak, and despis’d old man. Alas, Sir ! are you here? things that love night, Love not such nights as these ; the wrathful skies Gallow the very wand'rers of the dark, And make them keep their caves : since I was man, Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, Such
groans of roaring wind and rain, I never Remember to have heard, For do but stand upon the foaming shore, The chiding billows seem to pelt the clouds ; The wind-shak’dsurge, with high, and monstrous main, Seems to cast water on the burning bear, And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole: I never did like molestation view On the enchafed flood.
Thanks, to men
infant fortune comes to years, Stands for my bounty.
Thieves for their robbery have authority,