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split the ears of the groundlings; who, (for the most part) are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise. Pray you avoid it.
Be not too tame, neither; but let your own discretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature; for any thing so overdone is from the purpose of playing: whose end is-to hold as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of one of which must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. Oh! There be players that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, that, neither having the accent of Christian, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
II.-Douglas' Account of Himself.
My name is Norval. On the Grampian hills
To follow to the field some warlike lord;
And heaven soon granted what my sire denied.
With bended bow, and quiver full of arrows,
Hover'd about the enemy, and mark'd
The road he took; then hastened to my friends,
I met advancing. The pursuit I led,
Till we o'ertook the spoil-encumber'd foe.
We fought and conquer'd. Ere a sword was drawn,
I left my father's house, and took with me
III.-Douglas' Account of the Hermit.
Who was the wonder of our wand'ring swains.
Did they report him; the cold earth his bed,
For he had been a soldier in his youth;
His speech struck from me, the old man would shake
Then, having show'd his wounds, he'd sit him down,
Of war's vast art, was to this hermit known.
IV. Sempronius' Speech for War.
MY voice is still for war.
Gods! Can a Roman senate long debate,
May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage.
Or share their fate. The corpse of half her senate
Sit here, deliberating in cold debates,
If we should sacrifice our lives to honour,
Rouse up, for shame! Our brothers of Pharsalia
V.-Lucius' Speech for Peace.
MY thoughts, I must confess, are turn'd on peace;
. With widows and with orphans: Scythia mourns
That drew our swords, now wrests them from our hands,
Unprofitably shed. What men could do,
Is done already. Heaven and earth will witness,
VI.-Hotspur's Account of the Fop.
MY liege, I deny no prisoners.
But I remember, when the fight was done,
And, 'twixt his finger and his thumb, he held
He gave his nose.
And still he smil'd and talk'd:
And, as the soldiers bare dead bodies by,
He call'd them "untaught knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
Betwixt the wind and his nobility."
With many holiday and lady terms
He question'd me; among the rest, demanded
I then, all smarting with my wounds, being gall'd'
Out of my grief and my impatience,
He should or should not; for he made me mad,
To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman,
Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (heaven save the mark)
Was spermaceti for an inward bruise;
And that it was a great pity, (so it was)
Betwixt my love, and your high Majesty.
VII.-Hotspur's Soliloquy on the contents of a Letter.
"BUT, for mine own part, my Lord, I could be well contented to be there in respect of the love I bear your house." He could be contented to be there! Why is he not then? In respect of the love he bears our house? He shows in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our house. Let me see some more. "The purpose you undertake is dangerous."-Why that's certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink: but I tell you, my lord Fool, out of this nettle danger, we pluck this flower safely. "The purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you have named, uncertain; the time itself, unsorted; and your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so great an opposition."-Say you so, say you so? I say unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and you lie. What a lackbrain is this! Our plot is as good a plot as ever was laid; our friends true and constant; a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot, and the general course of the action. By this hand, if I were now by this rascal, I would brain him with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself: Lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not, besides, the Douglasses? Have I not all their letters, to meet me in
arms by the ninth of the next month? and are there not some of them set forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an infidel!-Ha! you shall see now, in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the king, and lay open all our proceedings. Oh! I could divide myself, and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of skimmed milk with so honourable an action-Hang him! let him tell the king. We are prepared. I will set forward to night.
VIIII.-Othello's Apology for his Marriage.
MOST potent, grave, and reverend seigniors:
Hath this extent; no more. Rude am I in speech,
And little of this great world can I speak,
I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver,
Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms,
(For such proceedings I am charged withal)
I won his daughter with.
Her father lov'd me; oft invited me ;
Still question'd me the story of my life,
From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes,
I ran it through, e'en from my boyish days
To the very moment that he bade me tell it.
Of moving accidents by flood and field;
Of hair-breadth 'scapes in th' imminent deadly breach:
And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,
All these to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline;
But still the house affairs would draw her thence;
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear