O, that estates, degrees, and offices, Were not deriv'd corruptly! and that clear honour To be new varnish'd. MESSENGER. With that, he gave his able horse the head, Here is a dear and true industrious friend, Betwixt that Holmedon, and this seat of ours. One of my fellows had the speed of him: Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more up his message. Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France; I have not seen I must go send some better messenger; Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news Pr'ythee, say on; The setting of thine eye, and cheek, proclaim Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek And would have told him, half his Troy was burn'd. This thou would'st say,-Your son did thus, and thus ; If thou speak'st false, Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive; Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth, Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excuse, But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. I go, I go; look, how I go; Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.. MIRACLES.-MIRTH.-MISCHIEF. MIRACLES. Miracles are ceas'd; And therefore we must needs admit the means, MIRTH. A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, He makes a July's day short as December; Let me play the fool: And then the old quire hold their hips and loffe; Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue, 'Tis ever common, That men are merriest when they are from home.. MISCHIEF. O, mischief! thou art swift To enter in the thoughts of desperate men! 173 MOB. Look, as I blow this feather from my face, The fool multitude, that choose by show, You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate What would you have, you curs, That like nor peace, nor war? the one affrights you, The other makes you proud. He that trusts you, Where he should find you lions, finds you hares; Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no, Than is the coal of fire upon the ice, Or hailstone in the sun. Your affections are A sick man's appetite, who desires most that And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye? With every minute you do change a mind; Hence; home, you idle creatures, get you home; Hang ’em ! They said, they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth pro verbs; That, hunger broke stone walls; that, dogs must eat; That, meat was made for mouths; that, the gods sent not Corn for the rich men only :-With these shreds For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them Therein behold themselves: I say again, In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate They'll sit by th' fire, and presume to know out Conjectural marriages; making parties strong, The rabble should have first unroof'd the city, Win upon power, and throw forth greater themes Our slippery people Whose love is never link'd to the deserver, Till his deserts are passed. |