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And forms no useless nor unperfect thing.
gape for till thou cramm’st their mouths
Luc. Sweet lord, abandon passion, and disarm.
Andr. More low'ring fate! O Lucio, choke that breath.
Unto Andrugio but Andrugio: And that
Luc. Speak like yourself; but give me leave, my lord,
foes? Being besieged by Passion, entering lists To combat with Despair and mighty Grief: My soul beleaguered with the crushing strength Of sharp Impatience. Ha! Lucio; go unarmed ? Come, soul, resume the valour of thy birth ; Myself myself will dare all opposites; I'll muster forces, an unvanquished power ; Cornets of horse shall press th’ungrateful Earth ; This hollow-wombed mass shall inly groan And murmur to sustain the weight of arms; Ghastly Amazement, with upstarted hair, Shall hurry on before, and usher us, Whilst trumpets clamour with a sound of death.
Luc. Peace, good my lord, your speech is all too light.
Andr. Andrugio lives; and a fair cause of arms,
Men's Glories eclipsed when they turn Traitors. As when the Moon hath comforted the Night, And set the world in silver of her light, The planets, asterisms, and whole State of Heaven, In beams of gold descending: all the winds Bound up in caves, charged not to drive abroad Their cloudy heads : an universal peace (Proclaimed in silence) of the quiet EarthSoon as her hot and dry fumes are let loose, Storms and clouds mixing suddenly put out The eyes of all those glories; the creation Turned into chaos; and we then desire, For all our joy of life, the death of sleep. So when the glories of our lives (men's loves, Clear consciences, our fames and loyalties), That did us worthy comfort, are eclipsed, Grief and disgrace invade us; and for all Our night of life besides, our misery craves Dark Earth would ope and hide us in our graves.
Exceeds his knowledge ; neither is it lawful
before them, and commands them all, T'hat to himself is a law rational.
Innocence the Harmony of the Faculties. ... Innocence, the sacred amulet 'Gainst all the poisons of infirmity, Of all misfortune, injury, and death; That makes a man in tune still in himself; Free from the hell to be his own accuser; Ever in quiet, endless joy enjoying, No strife nor no sedition in his powers ; No motion in his will against his reason; No thought ’gainst thought; nor (as 'twere in the confines Of whispering and repenting) both possess Only a wayward and tumultuous peace; But, all parts in him friendly and secure, Fruitful of all best things in all worst seasons, He can with every wish be in their plenty.
THE ROYAL KING AND THE LOYAL SUBJECT.
A Persian history
Which, when the hawk espies, leaves her first game,
HECATE, and the other Witches, at their charms.
Hec. Titty and Tiffin, Suckin
Stad. Here, sweating at the vessel.