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To cast into my teeth. There is my dagger,
I that denied thee gold, will give my heart.
When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'dst him better
Than ever thou loy'dst Cassius.
Bru. Sheath your dagger,
Be angry when you will, it shall have scope,
Cas. Hath Cassius liv'd
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
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 the rash humour which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful?
Bru. Yes, Cassius; and from henceforth,
II-SPEECHES AND SOLILOQUIES.
I.-Hamlet's Advice to the Players.
SPEAK the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you; trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier had spoken my lines. And do not saw the air too much with your hands; but use all gently: For in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance, that may give it smoothness. Oh! it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious, periwig pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to
split the ears of the groundlings; who, (for the most part) are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise. Pray you avoid it.
Be not too tame, neither; but let your own discretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature; for any thing so overdone is from the purpose of playing: whose end is to hold as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of one of which must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. Oh! There be players that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, that, neither having the accent of Christian, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
II.-Douglas' Account of Himself.
MY name is Norval. On the Grampian hills
The road he took; then hastened to my friends,
I left my father's house, and took with me
III-Douglas' Account of the Hermit.
BENEATH a mountain's brow, the most remote
His speech struck from me, the old man would shake
IV. Sempronius' Speech for War.
MY voice is still for war.
Gods! Can a Roman senate long debate,
Or share their fate. The corpse of half her senate
Sit here, deliberating in cold debates,
V.-Lucius' Speech for Peace.
MY thoughts, I must confess, are turn'd on peace; Already have our quarrels fill'd the world With widows and with orphans: Scythia mourns Our guilty wars, and earth's remotest regions Lie half unpeopled by the feuds of Rome. "Tis time to sheath the sword, and spare mankind. 'Tis not Cæsar, but the gods, my Fathers! The gods declare against us, and repel Our vain attempts. To urge the foe to battle (Prompted by blind revenge and wild despair) Were to refute th' awards of Providence, And not to rest in heaven's determination. Already have we shown our love to Rome. Now let us show submission to the gods. We took up arms, not to revenge ourselves, But free the commonwealth. When this end fails, Arms have no further use. Our country's cause,
That drew our swords, now wrests them from our hands,
Is done already. Heaven and earth will witness,
VI.-Hotspur's Account of the Fop.
MY liege, I did deny no prisoners.
And, 'twixt his finger and his thumb, he held
And still he smil'd and talk'd:
And, as the soldiers bare dead bodies by,
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
With many holiday and lady terms
I then, all smarting with my wounds, being gall'd
Was spermaceti for an inward bruise;
VII.-Hotspur's Soliloquy on the contents of a Letter.
BUT, for mine own part, my Lord, I could be well contented to be there in respect of the love I bear your house." He could be contented to be there! Why is he not then? In respect of the love he bears our house? He shows in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our house. Let me see some more. "The purpose you undertake is dangerous."-Why that's certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink: but I tell you, my lord Fool, out of this nettle danger, we pluck this flower safely. "The purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you have named, uncertain; the time itself, unsorted; and your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so great an opposition."--Say you so, say you so ? I you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and you lie. say unto What a lackbrain is this! Our plot is as good a plot as ever was laid; our friends true and constant; a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot, and the general course of the action. By this hand, if I were now by this rascal, I would brain him with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself: Lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not, besides, the Douglasses? Have I not all their letters, to meet me in