THE STRENGTH OF A GOOD CONSCIENCE.

WHAT stronger breastplate than a heart untainted!

Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just, And he but naked, though locked up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted. Second Part of King Henry VI., iii. 2, 232.

THE DIGNITY OF GOOD ACTIONS. STRANGE is it that our bloods, Of color, weight, and heat, poured all together, Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off

In differences so mighty. If she be
All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest,
A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest
Of virtue for the name: but do not so:
From lowest place when virtuous things pro-
ceed,

The place is dignified by the doer's deed:
Where great additions swell's, and virtue

none,

It is a dropsied honor. Good alone
Is good without a name.

All's Well that Ends Well, ii. 3, 126.

THE LESSON OF WOLSEY'S FALL.

Thomas Cromwell (Confidential Servant of
Cardinal Wolsey).
O my lord,

Must I, then, leave you? must I needs forego
So good, so noble, and so true a master?
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The king shall have my service; but my
prayers

Forever and forever shall be yours.

Wolsey. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear

In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell;

And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention

Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee;

Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor,

Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in: A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it.

Mark but my fall, and that that ruined me.

Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition :
By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?
Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that
hate thee;

Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
To silence envious tongues. Be just, and
fear not :

Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,
Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall`st,
O Cromwell,

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!

Have I not strove to love, although I knew
He were mine enemy? what friend of mine
That had to him derived your anger, did I
Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice
He was from thence discharged? Sir, call to
mind

That I have been your wife, in this obedience,
Upward of twenty years, and have been blest
With many children by you: if, in the course
And process of this time, you can report,
And prove it too, against mine honor aught,
My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty,
Against your sacred person, in God's name,
Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
To the sharp'st kind of justice.

For.

The quality of mercy is not strained, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath it is twice blessed; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes; 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown : His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway; It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; An earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That, in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render

The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much To mitigate the justice of thy plea;

Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice

Must needs give sentence 'gainst the mer

chant there.

Shy. My deeds upon my head! I crave the law.

The penalty and forfeit of my bond.
The Merchant of Venice, iv. 1, 181.

No ceremony that to great ones 'longs,
Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
Pecome them with one-half so good a grace
As mercy does.
Measure for Measure, ii. 2, 59.

Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
Draw near them then in being merciful:
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.
Titus Andronicus, i. 1, 117.

AVARICE.

DESPAIR to gain doth traffic oft for gaining; And when great treasure is the meed proposed,

Though death be adjunct, there's no death supposed.

397

With honor, wealth, and ease, in waning age,
And in this aim there is such thwarting strife,
That one for all, or all for one we gage;
As life for honor in fell battle's rage;

Honor for wealth; and oft that wealth doth cost

The death of all, and all together lost.
So that in venturing ill we leave to be
The things we are for that which we expect ;
And this ambitious foul infirmity,

In having much, torments us with defect
Of that we have: so then we do neglect
The thing we have; and, all for want of wit,
Make something nothing by augmenting it.

OPPORTUNITY.

Lucrece, 131

UNRULY blasts wait on the tender spring: Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers;

The adder hisses where the sweet birds sing;
What virtue breeds iniquity devours:
We have no good that we can say is ours,
But ill-annexed Opportunity

Or kills his life or else his quality.

O Opportunity, thy guilt is great! 'Tis thou that executest the traitor's treason: Thou set'st the wolf where he the lamb may j get:

Whoever plots the sin, thou 'point'st the sea

son;

'Tis thou that .spurn'st at right, at law, at

reason;

And in thy shady cell, where none may spy him,

Sits sin, to seize the souls that wander by

him. . . .

Thy honey turns to gall, thy joy to grief! Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame, Thy private feasting to a public fast ; Thy smoothing titles to a ragged name; Thy sugared tongue to bitter wormwood taste; Thy violent vanities can never last.

How comes it then, vile Opportunity, Being so bad, such numbers seek for thee? When wilt thou be the humble suppliant s friend,

The patient dies while the physician sleeps; The orphan pines while the oppressor feeds; Justice is feasting while the widow weeps; Advice is sporting while infection breeds; Thou grant'st no time for charitable deeds; Wrath, envy, treason, rape, and murder's rages,

Thy heinous hours wait on them as their
pages.

When Truth and Virtue have to do with thee,
A thousand crosses keep them from thy aid:
They buy thy help; but Sin ne'er gives a fee,
He gratis comes; and thou art well appaid
As well to hear as grant what he hath said....
Guilty thou art of murder and of theft,
Guilty of perjury and subornation,
Guilty of treason, forgery, and shift,
Guilty of incest, that abomination;
An accessary by thine inclination

To all sins past, and all that are to come,
From the creation to the general doom.
Lucrece, 869.
King John. O, when the last account 'twixt
heaven and earth

Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal
Witness against us to damnation !
How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds
Make deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by,
A fellow by the hand of nature marked,
Quoted and signed to do a deed of shame,
This murder had not come into my mind:
But taking note of thy abhorred aspect,
Finding thee fit for bloody villany,
Apt, liable to be employed in danger,
I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death;
And thou, to be endeared to a king,
Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
Hubert. My lord, —

K. John. Hadst thou but shook thy head

Where you are liberal of your loves and coun

sels

Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends

And give your hearts to, when they once perceive

The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
Like water from ye, never found again
But where they mean to sink ye. All good
people,

Pray for me! I must now forsake ye: the last hour

Of my long weary life is come upon me.
Farewell:

And when you would say something that is sad,
Speak how I fell. I have done; and God for-
give me!
King Henry VIII., ii. 1, 124.

SELF-INDULGENCE.

O GENTLEMEN, the time of life is short!
To spend that shortness basely were too long,
If life did ride upon a dial's point,
Still ending at the arrival of an hour.

First Part of King Henry IV., v. 2, 82. Now 't is the spring, and weeds are shallowrooted;

Suffer them now, and they 'll o'ergrow the garden

And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.
Second Part of King Henry VI., üì, 1, 31.
Shall we serve heaven

With less respect than we do minister
To our gross selves?

Measure for Measure, ii. 2, 85.