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| ANTIOCHUS.: |
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| Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride, |
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| For the embracements even of Jove himself; |
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| At whose conception, till Lucina reign'd, |
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| Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence, |
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| The senate-house of planets all did sit, |
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| To knit in her their best perfections. |
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| PERICLES |
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| See where she comes, apparell'd like the spring, |
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| Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king |
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| Of every virtue gives renown to men! |
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| Her face the book of praises, where is read |
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| Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence |
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| Sorrow were ever razed, and testy wrath |
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| Could never be her mild companion. |
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| You gods that made me man, and sway in love, |
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| That have inflamed desire in my breast |
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| To taste the fruit of yon celestal tree, |
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| Or die in the adventure, be my helps, |
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| As I am son and servant to your will, |
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| To compass such a boundless happiness! |
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| ANTIOCHUS.: |
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| Before thee stands this fair Hesperides, |
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| With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch'd; |
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| For death-like dragons here affright thee hard: |
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| Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view |
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| Her countless glory, which desert must gain; |
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| And which, without desert, because thine eye |
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| Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die. |
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| Yon sometimes famous princes, like thyself, |
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| Drawn by report, adventurous by desire, |
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| Tell thee, with speechless tongues and semblance pale, |
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| That without covering, save yon field of stars, |
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| Here they stand Martyrs, slain in Cupid's wars; |
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| And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist |
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| For going on death's net, whom none resist. |
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| PERICLES.: |
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| Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught |
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| My frail mortality to know itself, |
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| And by those fearful objects to prepare |
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| This body, like to them, to what I must; |
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| For death remember'd should be like a mirror, |
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| Who tells us life 's but breath, to trust it error. |
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| I'll make my will then, and, as sick men do |
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| Who know the world, see heaven, but, feeling woe, |
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| Gripe not at earthly joys as erst they did; |
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| So I bequeath a happy peace to you |
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| And all good men, as every prince should do; |
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| My riches to the earth from whence they came; |
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| But my unspotted fire of love to you. |
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| I am no viper, yet I feed |
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| On mother's flesh which did me breed. |
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| I sought a husband, in which labour |
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| I found that kindness in a father: |
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| He's father, son, and husband mild; |
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| I mother, wife, and yet his child. |
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| How they may be, and yet in two, |
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| As you will live, resolve it you. |
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| Sharp physic is the last: but, O you powers |
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| That give heaven countless eyes to view men's acts, |
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| Why cloud they not their sights perpetually, |
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| If this be true, which makes me pale to read it? |
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| Fair glass of light, I loved you, and could still, |
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| Were not this glorious casket stored with ill: |
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| But I must tell you, now my thoughts revolt; |
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| For he's no man on whom perfections wait |
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| That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate, |
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| You are a fair viol, and your sense the strings; |
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| Who, finger'd to make man his lawful music, |
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| Would draw heaven down, and all the gods to hearken; |
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| But being play'd upon before your time, |
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| Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime. |
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| Good sooth, I care not for you. |
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| PERICLES.: |
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| Great king, |
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| Few love to hear the sins they love to act; |
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| 'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it. |
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| Who has a book of all that monarchs do, |
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| He's more secure to keep it shut than shown: |
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| For vice repeated is like the wandering wind, |
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| Blows dust in others' eyes, to spread itself; |
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| And yet the end of all is bought thus dear, |
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| The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear |
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| To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts |
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| Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is throng'd |
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| By man's oppression; and the poor worm doth die for't. |
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| Kind are earth's gods; in vice their law's their will; |
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| And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill? |
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| It is enough you know; and it is fit, |
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| What being more known grows worse, to smother it. |
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| All love the womb that their first bred, |
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| Then give my tongue like leave to love my head. |
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| ANTIOCHUS.[Aside] |
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| Heaven, that I had thy head! he has found the meaning: |
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| But I will gloze with him.—Young prince of Tyre. |
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| Though by the tenour of our strict edict, |
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| Your exposition misinterpreting, |
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| We might proceed to cancel of your days; |
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| Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree |
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| As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise: |
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| Forty days longer we do respite you; |
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| If by which time our secret be undone, |
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| This mercy shows we'll joy in such a son: |
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| And until then your entertain shall be |
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| As doth befit our honour and your worth. |
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| PERACLES.: |
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| How courtesy would seem to cover sin, |
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| When what is done is like an hypocrite, |
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| The which is good in nothing but in sight! |
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| If it be true that I interpret false, |
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| Then were it certain you were not so bad |
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| As with foul incest to abuse your soul; |
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| Where now you're both a father and a son, |
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| By your untimely claspings with your child, |
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| Which pleasure fits an husband, not a father; |
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| And she an eater of her mother's flesh, |
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| By the defiling of her parent's bed; |
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| And both like serpents are, who though they feed |
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| On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed. |
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| Antioch, farewell! for wisdom sees, those men |
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| Blush not in actions blacker than the night, |
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| Will shun no course to keep them from the light. |
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| One sin, I know, another doth provoke; |
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| Murder's as near to lust as flame to smoke: |
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| Poison and treason are the hands of sin, |
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| Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame: |
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| Then, lest my life be cropp'd to keep you clear, |
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| By flight I 'II shun the danger which I fear. |
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| ANTIOCHUS.: |
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| Thaliard, |
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| You are of our chamber, and our mind partakes |
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| Her private actions to your secrecy; |
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| And for your faithfulness we will advance you. |
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| Thaliard, behold, here's poison, and here's gold; |
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| We hate the prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him: |
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| It fits thee not to ask the reason why, |
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| Because we Bid it. Say, is it done? |
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