His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear,
Of what he has, and has not.

30-iv. 10.

111

I...

Am right glad to catch this good occasion
Most thoroughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff
And corn shall fly asunder; for, I know,

There's none stands under more calumnious tongues,

Than I myself.

25-v. 1.

112

This the noble nature

Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtue,

The shot of accident, nor dart of chance,

Could neither graze nor pierce ?

113

37-iv. 1.

He is a man, setting his fate aside,*

Of comely virtues:

Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice
(An honour in him, which buys out his fault);
But, with a noble fury, and fair spirit,
Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,

He did oppose his foe:

And with such sober and unnoted passiont†
He did behave his anger, ere 'twas spen,
As if he had but proved an argument.

114

The dearest friend, the kindest man,

The best condition'd and unwearied spirit

In doing courtesies.

115

For his bounty,

27-iii. 5.

9-iii. 2.

There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas,

That grew the more by reaping.

116

He covets less,

28-ii. 2.

Than misery* itself would give; rewards
His deeds with doing them: and is content
To spend the time, to end it.

117

I would dissemble with my nature, where
My fortunes, and my friends, at stake, required
I should do so in honour.

118

28-iii. 2.

His life was gentle; and the elements
So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up,
And say to all the world, This was a man !

29-v. 5.

119

Spare in diet;

Free from gross passion, or of mirth, or anger;
Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood;
Garnish'd and deck'd in modest compliment ; †
Not working with the eye, without the ear,†
And, but in purged judgment, trusting neither.

120

Where I could not be honest,

I never yet was valiant.

121

Thou art a summer bird,

Which ever in the haunch of winter sings

The lifting-up of day.

122

20-ii. 2.

34-v. 1.

19-iv. 4.

I know you all, and will awhile uphold

The unyoked humour of your idleness:

Yet herein will I imitate the sun;

Who doth permit the base contagious clouds

his

To smother up his beauty from the world,

That, when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
Of vapours, that did seem to strangle him.

So when this loose behaviour I throw off,
And pay the debt I never promised,

*

By how much better than my word I am,
• By so much shall I falsify men's hopes;*
And, like bright metal on a sullen ground,
My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,
Shall show more goodly, and attract more eyes,
Than that which hath no foil to set it off.

Presume not that I am the thing I was:
For heaven doth know, so shall the world perceive,

That I have turn'd away my former self;

So will I those that kept me company.

19-v. 5.

123

O, that this good blossom could be kept from cankers!

124

I have no tongue but one.

125

19-ii. 2.

5-ii. 4.

There is a fair behaviour in thee,

And though that nature with a beauteous wall

Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee

I will believe thou hast a mind that suits

With this thy fair and outward character.

126

4-1.2.

He was skilful enough to have lived still, if know

ledge could be set up against mortality.

127

Weigh him well,

And that, which looks like pride, is courtesy.

11-i. 1. 128

27-i. 1.

He's opposite to humanity. He outgoes

The very heart of kindness.

129

No villanous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart;

Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.

130

He sits 'mongst men, like a descended god:
He hath a kind of honour sets him off,

27-ii. 2.

More than a mortal seeming.

31-i. 7.

131

Let them accuse me by invention, I

28-iii. 2.

Will answer in mine honour.

132

He is the card* or calendar of gentry, for you shall find in him the continents of what part a gentleman

would see.

133

And, but he's something stain'd

36-v. 2.

With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'st call

him

A goodly person.

1-i. 2.

134

20-iv. 3.

135

Dear lad, believe it;

He is as full of valour, as of kindness;
Princely in both.

For they shall yet belie thy happy years,

That say, thou art a man: Diana's lip

Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe

Is as the maiden's organ, shrill, and sound,

And all is semblative a woman's part.

136

4-i. 4.

He hath a heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks, his tongue speaks.

6-iii. 2.

137

I cannot flatter; I defy

The tongues of soothers.

18-iii. 4.

138

16-iv. 1.

He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart.

139

And here have I the daintiness of ear,
To check time broke in a disorder'd string;
But, for the concord of my state and time,
Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.

140

17-v. 5.

That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,
A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;

His dews fall every where.

141

I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love.

142

25-i. 3.

30-iii. 2.

One, that, above all other strifes, contended especially to know himself. Rather rejoicing to see another merry, than merry at any thing which professed to make him rejoice. 5-iii. 2.

143

After your death you were better have a bad epi

taph, than ill report while you live.

144

You know the very road into his kindness,

And cannot lose your way.

145

Modest wisdom plucks me,

36-ii. 2.

28-v. 1.