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Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
TIMON TO THE THIEVES.
Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath
roots; Within this mile break forth a hundred springs: The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips; The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush Lays her full mess before you. Want? why want?
i Thief. We cannot live on grass, on berries, As beasts, and birds, and fishes.
(water, Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds,
and fishes; You must eat men.
Yet thanks I must you con, That you are thieves profess'd; that you work not In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft In limitedt professions. Rascal thieves, (grape, Here's gold: Go, suck the subtle blood of the Till the high fever seeth your blood to froth, And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; His antidotes are poison, and he slays More than you rob: take wealth and lives together; Do villainy, do, since you profess to do't, Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery: : The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, * For touchstone.
✓ For legal.
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun:
ON HIS HONEST STEWARD.
Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,
-mistake me not,—but one:
PROMISING AND PERFORMANCE.
Promising is the very air o'the time: it opens the eyes of expectation: performance is ever the duller for his act; and, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed of sayingt is quite
* Compost, manure. The doing of that we said we would do.
out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind of will or testament, which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it.
WRONG AND INSOLENCE.
Now breathless wrong.
insolence shall break his wind, With fear and horrid flight.
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
Thanks, to men
INVITATION TO LOVE.
The birds chant melody on every bush; The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun; The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind; And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground: Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, And-whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds, Replying shrilly to the well tun'd horns,
As if a double hunt were heard at once,
each wreathed in the other's arms,
[birds, Of lullaby, to bring her babe asleep.
DESCRIPTION OF A MELANCHOLY VALLEY. A barren detested vale, you see, it is: The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, O'ercome with moss, and baleful misletoe. Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds, Unless the nightly owl, or fatal raven. And, when they show'd me this abhorred pit, They told me, here, at dead time of the night, A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins*, Would make such fearful and confused cries, As any mortal body, hearing it, Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly.
DESCRIPTION OF A RING.
Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
LAVINIA AT HER LUTE.
Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,
aspen leaves, upon a lute,
cage: Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear!
For now I stand as one upon a rock, Environ'd with a wilderness of sea; Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, Expecting ever when some envious surge Will, in his brinish bowels, swallow him.