These high wild hills, and rough uneven ways, But words are words; I never yet did hear, Why, what an ass am I? This is most brave; A scullion! Think you, a little din can daunt mine ears ? A flourish, trumpets!-strike alarum, drums! It was the copy of Our conference: Still did I tell him it was vile and bad. When he speaks, And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, TAXATION. By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, TEARS. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, Let me wipe off this honourable dew, I am not prone to weeping, as our sex Friends, I owe more tears, To this dead man, than you shall see me pay. You think I'll weep; 7 No, I'll not weep. Though I have full cause of weeping, This heart shall break into a thousand flaws, Or e'er I weep. I did not think to shed a tear My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, 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 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 all my mother came into my mine eyes, Command these fretting waters from your eyes To weep at what I am glad of. I am a fool, Thy heart is big; get thee apart and weep. Touch me with noble anger ! O, let not woman's weapons, water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks! Το weep, is to make less the depth of grief: Tears, then, for babes; blows, and revenge for me! TEMPEST. I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds The tyranny of th' open night's too rough The southern wind Doth play the trumpet to his purposes; And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves, This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion, and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their 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, Unwipt off justice! Hide thee, thou bloody hand, Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks! Singe my white head! And thou all-shaking thunder, 250 TEMPEST.-THANKS.-THIEVES. Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! I tax not you, ye elements, with unkindness, Alas, Sir! are you here? things that love night, And make them keep their caves: since I was man, For do but stand upon the foaming shore, The wind-shak'd surge, with high, and monstrous main, And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole: On the enchafed flood. THANKS. Thanks, to men Of noble minds, is honourable meed. Ever more thanks, the exchequer of the poor; THIEVES. Thieves for their robbery have authority, When judges steal themselves. |