The Beauties of Shakespeare ... By W. Dodd

Front matter

THE BEAUTIES OF SHAKSPEARE .F/rZs _4 GENERAL LNDEX BY THE REV. WILLIAM DODD, LL.D. " The poet's eye, in a sine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven And, as imagination bodies forth M he forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Tunis them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name." Midsummer Night's Dream. LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE NEW YORK : 416, BROOME STREET LONDON WVMAN AND SONS, PRINTERS, GREAT QUEEN STREET, lincoln's-inn FIELDS, W.C. P REFA CE I shall not attempt any laboured encomiums on Shakspeare, or endeavour to set forth his perfections, at a time when such universal and just applause is paid him, and when every tongue is big with his boundless fame. He himself tells us, To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.

And wasteful and ridiculous indeed it would be to say anything in his praise, when presenting the world with such a collection of Beauties as perhaps is nowhere to be met with, and, I may very safely affirm, cannot be paralleled, from the productions osany other single author, ancient or modern. There is scarcely a topic, common with other writers, on which he has not excelled them all ; there are many nobly peculiar to himself, where he shines unrivalled, and, like the eagle, properest emblem of his daring genius, soars beyond the common reach, and gazes undazzled on the sun. His slights are sometimes so bold, frigid criticism almost dares to disapprove them ; and those narrow minds which arc incapable of elevating their ideas to the sublimity of their author's, are willing to bring them down to a level with their own.

Hence many sine passages have been condemned in Shakspeare as rant and fustian, intolerable bombast and turgid nonsense, which, if read with the least glow of the same imagination that warmed the writer's bosom, would blaze in the robes of sublimity, and obtain the commendations of a Longinus. And, unless some of the same spirit that elevated the Toet elevate the reader too, he must not presume to talk of taste and elegance; he will prove a languid reader, an indifferent judge, and a far more indifferent critic and commentator. It is some time since I first proposed publishing this collection ; for Shakspeare was ever, of all modern authors, my chief favourite ; and during my relaxations from my more severe and necessary studies at college, I never omitted to read and indulge myself in the rapturous slights of this delightful and sweetest child of fancy : and when my imagination has been heated by the glowing ardour of his uncommon fire, I have never sailed to lament that his beauties should be so obscured, and that he himself should be made a kind of stage for bungling critics to show their clumsy activity upon.

Part I

— COMEDIES. PAGE All's Well that Ends Well ... 9 As You Like It 14 Comedy of Errors 25 Love's Labour 's Lost ... 27 Measure for Measure 33 Merchant of Venice - 43 A Midsummer-Night's Dream 56 Much Ado about Nothing 64 Taming' of the Shrew 70 Tempest - 73 Twelfth Night S5 Two Gentlemen of Verona 88 Winter's Tale 94 PART H.— HISTORICAL PLAYS, chronologically arranged. King John 104 King Richard II 117 King Henry IV. (Part I.) 124 King Henry IV. (Part II.) 135 King Henry V TAGE King Henry VI. (Part I.) I5<5 King Henry VI. (Part II.) J57 King Henry VI. (Part III.) l6t King Richard III l6S King Henry VIII '77 PART HI.— TRAGEDIES. Antony and Cleopatra 188 Coriolanus 199 Cymbeline 209 Hamlet 225 Julius Cæsar 252 King Lear 270 Macbeth 286 Othello 304 Romeo and Juliet 319 Timon of Athens 336 Titus Andronicus 347 Troilus and Cressida 350 Index

PART I.

— COMEDIES. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. Act I. Advice. Be thou blest, Bertram ! and succeed thy father In manners, as in shape ! thy blood, and virtue, Contend for empire in thee ; and thy goodness Share with thy birth-right ! Love all, trust a few, Do wrong to none : be able for thine enemy Rather in power, than use ; and keep thy friend Under thy own life's key ; be check'd for silence, But never tax'd for speech. Too ambitious Love. I am undone ; there is no living, none, If Bertram be away. It were all one That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it ; he is so above me : In his bright radiance and collateral light Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: The hind that would be mated by the lion, Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague, To see him every hour ; to sit and draw His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls In our heart's table ;* heart, too capable Of every line and tricks ofhis sweet favour :% But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy Must sanctify his relics.

Cowardice. I know him a notorious liar, Think him a great way fool, solely a coward : Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him, That they take place, when virtue's steely bones Look bleak in the cold wind. The Remedy of Evils generally in Ourselves. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven : the fated sky Gives us free scope ; only doth backward pull Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull. Character of a noble Courtier. In his youth He had the wit, which I can well observe To-day in our young lords ; but they may jest Till their own scorn return to them unnoted, Ere they can hide their levity in honour. So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness Were in his pride or sharpness ; if they were, His equal had awaked them ; and his honour, Clock to itself, knew the true minute when Exception bid him speak, and at this time, His tongue obey'd his hand : § and who below him He used as creatures of another place : And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks, * Helena considers her heart as the tablet on which his resem blance was portrayed. + Peculiarity of feature. $ Countenance.

S His is put for its. All's Well that Ends Well. 11 Making them proud of his humility. Such a man Might be a copy to these younger times. Act II. Honour due to personal Virtue only, not to Birth. From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, The place is dignified by the doer's deed : Where great additions * swell, and virtue none, It is a dropsied honour : good alone Is good, without a name ; vileness is so : + The property by what it is should go, Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair ; In these to nature she's immediate heir ; And these breed honour ; that is honour's scorn, Which challenges itself as honour's born, And is not like the sire : Honours best thrive, When rather from our acts we them derive Than our foregoer's : the mere world's a slave, Debauch'd on every tomb ; on every grave, A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb, Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb Of honour'd bones indeed.

Act III. Self-accusation of too great Love. Poor lord ! is't I That chase thee from thy country, and expose Those tender limbs of thine to the event Of the non-sparing war? and is it I That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou * Titles. + Good is good independent of any worldly distinction, and so is vileness vile. Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark Of smoky muskets ? O you leaden messengers, That ride upon the violent speed of fire, Fly with false aim ; move the still-piercing air, That sings with piercing, do not touch my lord ! Whoever shoots at him, I set him there ; Whoever charges on his forward breast, I am the caitiff that do hold him to it ; And, though I kill him not, I am the cause His death was so effected : better 'twere I met the ravin "' lion when he roar'd With sharp constraint of hunger : better 'twere That all the miseries, which nature owes, Were mine at once : No, come thou home, Rousillon. .Vhence honour but of danger wins a scar, As oft it loses all ; I will be gone : My being here it is, that holds thee hence : Shall I stay here to do't ? no, no, although The air of paradise did fan the house, And angels officed all ; I will be gone ; That pitiful rumour may report my flight, To consolate thine ear.

A Maid's Honour. The honour of a maid is her name ! and no legacy is so rich as honesty. Advice to Young Women. Beware of them, Diana ; their promises, enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of lust, and not the things they go under : t many a maid hath been seduced by them ; and the misery is, example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for all that * Ravenous. + They are not the things for which their names would make them pass. All's Well that Ends Well. 13 dissuade succession, but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten them. I hope I need not to advise you further ; but I hope your own grace will keep you where you are, though there were no further danger known, but the modesty which is so lost. Act IV. Custom of Seducers. Ay, so you serve us, Till we serve you : but when you have our roses, You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves, And mock us with our bareness.

Chastity. Mine honour's such a ring ; My chastity's the jewel of our house, Bequeath'd down from many ancestors ; Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world In me to lose. Life chequered. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not ; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues. A cowardly Braggart. Yet I am thankful : if my heart were great, 'Twould burst at this : captain I'll be no more ! But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft As captain shall : simply the thing I am Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this ; for it will come to pass, That every braggart shall be found an ass. Rust, sword ! cool, blushes ! and, Parolles, live Safest in shame ! being fool'd, by foolery thrive !

There's place, and means, for every man alive. Act V. Against Delay. Let's take the instant by the forward top ; For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees The inaudible and noiseless foot of time Steals ere we can effect them. Excuse for unreasonable Dislike. At first I struck my choice upon her, ere my heart Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue : Where the impression of mine eye infixing, Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me, Which warp'd the line of every other favour ; Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen ; Extended or contracted all proportions To a most hideous object : thence it came, That she, whom all men praised, and whom myself, Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye The dust that did offend it. AS YOU LIKE IT. Act I. Alodcsty and Courage in Youth.

I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts ; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent ladies anything. But let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial : wherein if I be foiled, there is but one shamed that was never gracious ; if killed, but one dead that is willing to be so : I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me; the world no injury, for in it I have nothingonly in the world I fill up a place, which may be better supplied when I have made it empty. Playfellows. We still have slept together, Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together : And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, Still we went coupled, and inseparable. Beauty. Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. Rosalind proposing to wear Metis clothes. Were it not better, Because that I am more than common tall, That I did suit me all points like a man ?

A gallant curtle-axe ""' upon my thigh, A boar-spear in my hand ; and (in my heart Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will) We'll have a swashing f and a martial outside _ As many other mannish cowards have, That do outface it with their semblances. Act II. Solitude preferred to a Court Life, and the Advantages of Adversity. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference ; as the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and sa)', * Cutlass. + Swaggering. ', This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.

Sweet are the uses of adversity ; Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks. Sermons in stones, and good in everything. Reflections on the wounded Stag. Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison ? And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools, — Being native burghers of this desert city, — Should, in their own confines, with forked heads * Have their round haunches gored. i Lord. Indeed, my lord, The melancholy Jaques grieves at that ; And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. To-day, my Lord of Amiens, and myself, Did steal behind him, as he lay along Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood, To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, Did come to languish : and, indeed, my lord, The wretched animal heaved forth such groans, That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat Almost to bursting ; and the big round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase; and thus the airy fool, Much mark'd of the melancholy Jaques, Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook Augmenting it with tears. * Barbed arrows.

Duke S. But what said Jaques ? Did he not moralize this spectacle ? 1. Lord. 0, yes, into a thousand similes. First, for his weeping in the needless stream ; Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much : Then, being alone, Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends ; ' Tis right, quoth he, this misery doth part The flux of company : Anon, a careless herd, Full of the pasture, jumps along by him, And never stays to greet him : Ay, quoth Jaques, Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens ; 'Tis just the fashion : Wherefore do you look Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there I Gratitude in an old Servant. But do not so ; I have five hundred crowns, The thrifty hire I saved under your father, AVhich I did store to be my foster-nurse, When service should in my old limbs lie lame, And unregarded age in corners thrown ; Take that : and He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age !

Here is the gold ; All this I give you : Let me be your servant : Though I look oid, yet I am strong and lusty : For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors to my blood : Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo The means of weakness and debility : Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly : let me go with you, I'll do the service of a younger man In all your business and necessities. a Description of a Lover. O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily : If thou remember'st not the slightest folly That ever love did make thee run into, Thou hast not loved : Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, Thou hast not loved : Or if thou hast not broke from company Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, Thou hast not loved. Description of a Fool, and his moralizing on Time.

Good morrow, fool, quoth I : No, sir, quoth he, Call me not fool, till heaven hath sent me fortune : And then he drew a dial from his poke ; And looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says, very wisely, It is ten o'clock : Thus may we see, quoth he, how the world wags ; 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine j And after an hour more 'twill be eleven ; And so from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot, Aud thereby hangs a tale ! When I did hear The motley fool thus moral on the time, My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep contemplative ; And I did laugh sans intermission, An hour by his dial — O noble fool ! A worthy fool ! Motley's the only wear.* Duke S. What fool is this ? faq. O Worthy fool ;— One that hath been ; And says if ladies be but young and fair, [courtier They have the gift to know it : and in his brain * The fool was anciently dressed in a party-coloured coat.

Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit After a voyage, — he hath strange places cramm'd With observation, the which he vents In mangled forms. A Fool's Liberty of Speech. I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please : for so fools have : And they that are most galled with my folly They most must laugh : And why, sir, must they so . The why is plain as way to parish church : He, that a fool doth very wisely hit, Doth very foolishly, although he smart, Not to seem senseless of the bob ; if not, The wise man's folly is anatomized Even by the squand'ring glances of the fool. Apology for Satire. Why, who cries out on pride, Than can therein tax any private party ? Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea, Till that the very very means do ebb ? What woman in the city do I name, When that I say, The city woman bears The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders ?

Who can come in, and say, that I mean her, When such a one as she, such is her neighbour ? Or what is he of basest function, That says his bravery * is not on my cost, (Thinking that I mean him), but therein suits His folly to the mettle of my speech ? There then ! How, what then ? Let me see wherein My tongue hath wrong'd him ; if it do him right, Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free, * Finery. C Why then, my taxing like a wild goose flies, Unclaim'd of any man. A Tender Petition. But whate'er you are, That in this desert inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time ; If ever you have look'd on better days, If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church : If ever sat at any good man's feast ; If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear, And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied ; Let gentleness my strong enforcement be.

The Seven Ages. All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players ; They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms ; And then, the whining school-boy, with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school ; and then, the lover ; Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then, a soldier ; Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden * and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth : And then, the justice ; In fair round belly, with good capon lined, With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and moderns instances ; And so he plays his part : The sixth age shifts * Violent. + Trite, common.

Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon ! With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound : Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion : Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. Ingratitude. A Song. Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind * As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude. Heigh, ho ! sing, heigh, ho ! unto the green holly : Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly : Then, heigh, ho, the holly ! This life is most jolly. Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, That dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot : Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remember'dt not.

Heigh, ho ! sing, heigh, ho ! ecc. Act III. A Shepherd's Philosophy. I know, the more one sickens, the worse at ease he is ; and that he that wants money, means, and content, is without three good friends : — That the property of rain * Unnatural. + Remembering. is to wet, and fire to burn : That good pasture makes fat sheep : and that a great cause of the night is lack of the sun : That he, that hath learned no wit by nature not art, may complain of good breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred. Character of an honest and simple Shepherd. Sir, I am a true labourer ; I earn that I eat, get that I wear ; owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness ; glad of other men's good, content with my harm ; and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes graze, and my lambs suck. Description of a Lover.

A lean cheek ; which you have not : a blue eye, and sunken ; which you have not : an unquestionable spirit ;* which you have not : a beard neglected ; which you have not ; — but I pardon you for that ; for, simply, your havings in beard is a younger brother's revenue : — Then your hose should be ungartered, your bonnet unhanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and every thing about you demonstrating a careless desolation. But you are no such man : you are rather point device j in your accoutrements ; as loving yourself, than seeming the lover of any other. Real Passion dissembled. Think not I love him, though I ask for him ; 'Tis but a peevish § boy : — yet he talks well ; — But what care I for words ? yet words do well, AVhen he that speaks them pleases those that hear. It is a pretty youth : — not very pretty : — But, sure, he's proud ; and yet his pride becomes him.

He'll make a proper man : the best thing in him Is his complexion ; and faster than his tonorie * A spirit averse to conversation. + Estate. J Over exact. § Silly. Did make offence, his eye did heal it up. He is not tall ; yet for his years he's tall : His leg is but so-so ; and yet 'tis well ; There was a pretty redness in his lip ; A little riper and more lusty red [ence Than that mix'd in his cheek ; 'twas just the differ- Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask. There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him In parcels as I did, would have gone near To fall in love with him : but, for my part, I love him not, nor hate him not ; and yet I have more cause to hate him than to love him ; For what had he to do to chide at me ? He said, mine eyes were black, and my hair black ; And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me : I marvel why I answer'd not again : But that's all one ; omittance is no quittance.

Act IV. The Varieties of Melancholy. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation ; nor the musician's, which is fantastical ; nor the courtier's, which is proud ; nor the soldier's, which is ambitious ; nor the lawyer's, which is politic ; nor the lady's, which is nice ;* nor the lover's, which is all these. Marriage alters the Temper of both Sexes. Say a day, without the ever : no, no, Orlando ; men are April when they woo ; December when they wed : maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen ; more clamorous than a parrot against rain ; more new-fangled than an ape ; more giddy in my desires than a monkey : I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain ; and I will * Trifling. do that when you are disposed to be merry ; I will laugh like a hyen, and that when thou art inclined to sleep.

Cupid's Parentage. No, that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was begot of thought,* conceived of spleen, and born of mad ness ; that blind rascally boy, that abuses every one's eyes because his own are out, let him be judge how deep I am in love. Oliver's Description of his Danger when Sleeping. Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age, And high top bald with dry antiquity, A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, Lay sleeping on his back ; about his neck A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself, AA'ho with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd The opening of his mouth ; but suddenly Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself, And with indented glides did slip away Into a bush : under which bush's shade A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, Lay couching, head on ground, with cat-like watch, AA'hen that the sleeping man should stir : for 'tis The royal disposition of that beast To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead Act V. Love.

Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. It is to be all made of sighs and tears : — It is to be all made of faith and service : — It is to be all made of fantasy ; All made of passion, and all made of wishes ; All adoration, duty, and observance, All humbleness, all patience, and impatience All purity, all trial, all observance. * Melancholv. Comedy of Errors. 25 COMEDY OF ERRORS. Act II. Alan's Pre-eminence. There's nothing, situate under Heaven's eye, But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky ; The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, Are their males' subjects, and at their controls : Men, more divine, the masters of all these, Lords of the wide world, and wild watery seas, Endued with intellectual sense and souls, Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls, Are masters to their females, and their lords : Then let your will attend on their accords.

Patience easier taught than practised. Patience, unmoved, no marvel though she pause, They can be meek that have no other cause. A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry ; But were we burden'd with like weight of pain, As much, or more, we should ourselves complain. Defamation. I see the jewel, best enamelled, AA'ill lose his beauty ; and though gold 'bides still, That others touch, yet often touching will AYear gold : and so no man, that hath a name, But falsehood and corruption doth it shame. fealottsy. Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown ; Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects, I am not Adriana nor thy wife. The time was once when thou unurged wouldst voiv That never words were music to thine ear, That never object pleasing in thine eye, That never touch well-welcome to thy hand, That never meat sweet savour'd in thy taste, Unless I spake, look'd, touch'd, or carved to thee.