Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day, For many weary months. TROILUS. Why was my Cressid then so hard to win? CRES. Hard to seem won; but I was won, my lord, But, though I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not; Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue; For, in this rapture, I shall surely speak The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence, Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws My very soul of counsel: Stop my mouth. TRO. And shall, albeit sweet musick issue thence. CRES. My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me: 'Twas not my purpose, thus to beg a kiss: I am asham'd;-O heavens! what have I done?— For this time will I take my leave, my lord. TRO. Your leave, sweet Cressid? What offends you, lady? CRES. Sir, mine own company. TRO. Yourself. CRES. Let me go and try: You cannot shun I have a kind of self resides with you: But an unkind self, that itself will leave, CRES. Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love: And fell so roundly to a large confession, To angle for your thoughts: But you are wise; Or else you love not; For to be wise, and love, Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods above. TRO. O, that I thought it could be in a woman, (As, if it can, I will presume in you,) To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love; Might be affronted with the match and weight right! Ŏ virtuous fight, True swains in love shall, in the world to come, Approve their truths by Troilus: when their rhymes, Full of protest, of oath, and big compare, As sun to day, as turtle to her mate, As truth's authentick author to be cited, CRES. Prophet may you be! If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth, When time is old and hath forgot itself, When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy, And mighty states characterless are grated From false to false, among false maids in love, Upbraid my falsehood! when they have said-as false As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth, As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifer's calf, Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son; TROILUS AND CRESSIDA, A. 3, s. 2. THE CROWN OF CONTENT. K. HENRY. My crown is in my heart, not on my head; Not deck'd with diamonds, and Indian stones, KEEPER. Well, if you be a king crown'd with content, Your crown content, and you, must be contented To go along with us. K. HENRY VI., PART III., A. 3, s. 2. THE CROW PECKING AT THE EAGLE. FAME, at which he aims, In whom already he is well grac'd, cannot Better be held, nor more attain'd, than by A place below the first: for what miscarries Shall be the general's fault, though he perform To the utmost of a man; and giddy censure Will then cry out of Marcius, O, if he Had borne the business! Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius, Though Marcius earn'd them not; and all his faults To Marcius shall be honours, though, indeed, CORIOLANUS, A. 1, s. 1. THE CURSE OF CIVIL WAR MARRY, God forbid !— Worst in this royal presence may I speak, Be judg'd by subject and inferior breath, Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd Lest child, child's children, cry against you woe! K. RICHARD Il., A. 4, s. 1. THE DEMON OF REVENGE. KKOW thou, sad man, I am not Tamora; I am Revenge; sent from the infernal kingdom, light; Confer with me of murder and of death: |