That makes calamity of so long life: For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin! Who would fardels bear, [life, To groan and sweat under a weary But that the dread of something after death

That undiscovered country from whose bourn

No traveller returns,

will,

puzzles the

But do not dull thy palm with entertertainment

Of each new-hatched, unpledged com

rade. Beware

Of entrance to a quarrel; but, being in Bear it, that the opposer may beware of thee.

Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice;

Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy;

For the apparel oft proclaims the man; And they in France, of the best rank and station,

Are most select and generous, chief in that.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be; For loan oft loses both itself and friend;

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This above all. To thine own self be true;

And it must follow, as the night the day,

Thou canst not then be false to any man!

[From The Merchant of Venice.]

FALSE APPEARANCES.

THE world is still deceived with

ornament.

In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,

But being seasoned with a gracious voice,

Obscures the show of evil? In religion,

What damned error, but some sober brow

Will bless it, and approve it with a text,

Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?

There is no voice so simple, but as

sumes

Some mark of virtue on its outward parts.

How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false

At length broke under me; and now has left me,

Weary and old with service, to the mercy

Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.

Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye!

[From Measure for Measure.]
FEAR OF DEATH.

AY, but to die, and go we know not where;

To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become

A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit

To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice;

To be imprisoned in the viewless winds,

And blown with restless violence round about

The pendent world: or to be worse than worst

Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts

Imagine howling: 'tis too horrible! The weariest and most loathed worldly life,

That age, ache, penury, and impris

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve:

And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind! We are such stuff

As dreams are made of, and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep.

[From Cymbeline.]

FEAR NO MORE.

FEAR no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done.
Home art gone, and ta'en thy
wages:

Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o' the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat,

To thee the reed is as the oak. The sceptre, learning, physic, must, All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash, Nor th' all-dreaded thunder-stone; Fear not slander, censure rash,

Thou hast finished joy and moan. All lovers young, all lovers must, Consign to thee, and come to dust,

[From Venus and Adonis.] THE HORSE OF ADONIS.

Look, when a painter would surpass the life,

In limning out a well-proportioned steed,

His art with Nature's workmanship at strife,

As if the dead the living should exceed:

So did this horse excel a common

one

In shape, in courage, color, pace and bone.

LOSSES.

delight,

Drawn after you, you pattern of all

those.