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I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver

15 Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, What conjuration, and what mighty magic, (For such proceeding I am charged withal,) I won his daughter with.

Her father loved me; oft invited me;
Still question'd me the story of my life,
From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have pass’d.
I ran it through, ev'n from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bade me tell it.

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Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field;
Of hair-breadth 'scapes i’ the imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the insolent foe,
And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, 30
And portance in my travels' history:
Wherein of antres vast, and deserts idle, [heaven,
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch
It was my hint to speak, such was the process;
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to hear,
Would Desdemona seriously incline:
But still the house affairs would draw her thence;
Which ever as she could with haste despatch, 40
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse: which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour; and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart,
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,

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But not intentively: I did consent;
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke,
That my youth suffer'd. My story being done, 50
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:
Sheswore, In faith,'twas strange, 'twas passing strange,
'T was pitiful, 't was wondrous pitiful:
She wish'd she had not heard it; yet she wish'd 54
That Heaven had made her such aman; she thank'd me;
And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. Upon this hint, I spake;
She loved me for the dangers I had pass’d,
And I loved her that she did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft I have used.

SHAKSPEARE.

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HENRY V. TO HIS SOLDIERS. WHAT's he that wishes for more men from England ? My cousin Westmoreland ?-No, my fair cousin: If we are mark'd to die, we are enough To do our country loss; and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour. God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man nore. By Jove, I am not covetous for gold; Nor care I, who doth feed upon my cost; It yearns me not, if men my garments wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires: 10 But, if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. No, 'faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:

God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour, As one man more, methinks, would share from me, 15 For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more; Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,

Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse :
We would not die in that man's company,
That fears his fellowship to die with us.

This day is call'd—the feast of Crispian :
He, that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named, 26
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He, that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends,
And say-To-morrow is saint Crispian :
Then will be strip his sleeve, and show his scars, 30
And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day.
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day: Then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouths as household words,- 35
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Glo'ster,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd :
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, 40
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered:
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he, to-day that sheds his blood with me,
Shall be my brother: be he ne'er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,
Shall think themselves accursed, they were not here;
And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks,
That fought with us upon St. Crispin's Day. 50

SHAKSPEARE.

CASSIUS. I CANNOT tell what you and other men Think of this life; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be, as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself. I was born free as Cæsar; so were you: We both have fed as well ; and we can both Endure the winter's cold as well as he. For once, upon a raw and gusty day, The troubled Tyber chafing with her shores, Cæsar said to me, “Darest thou, Cassius, now 10 Aeap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to yonder point?” Upon the word, Lccoutred as I was, I plunged in, And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did. The torrent roar'd; and we did buffet it 15 With lusty sinews; throwing it aside, And stemming it with hearts of controversy. But ere we could arrive the point proposed, Cæsar cried, “Help me, Cassius, or I sink !” I, as Æneas, our great ancestor,

20 Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Tyber Did I the tired Cæsar; And this man Is now become a god; and Cassius is

A wretched creature, and must bend his body, 25
If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him.
He had a fever when he was in Spain,
And, when the fit was on him, I did mark
How he did shake : 't is true, this god did shake :
His coward lips did from their colour fly; 30
And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world,
Did lose its lustre: I did hear him groan:
Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books,
“ Alas !” it cried, "give me some drink, Titinius”-
As a sick girl. Ye gods! it doth amaze me, 36
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone.

SHAKSPEARE.

ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE.

....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; 5 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 woeful ballad 10 Made to his mistress' eye-brow: Then a Soldier; Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,

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