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Reneger, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
His red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice.
Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm
I do the wrong and first begin to brawl.
With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ;
I can counterfeit the deep tragedian;
No man's pie is freed
From his ambitious finger.
Wert thou the son of Jupiter, and no more,
But what thou art, besides, thou wert too base
The bird called the king-fisher, which, when dried, and hung by a thread, is supposed to turn his bill to the point from whence the wind blows.
Even to the point of envy, if 't were made
If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
From whose so many weights of baseness cannot
You know no rules of charity,
Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
Insulting tyranny begins to jut.
Thou wast seal'd in thy nativity
The slave of nature and the son of hell!
Thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost
Was nothing but mutation; ay, and that
The composition, that your valour and fear makes you, is a virtue of a good wing. 11-i. 1.
u Dr. Johnson says, that "Dryden has quoted two verses of Virgil, to show how well he could have written satires." Shakspeare has here given a specimen of the same power by a line bitter beyond all bitterness, in which Timon tells Apemantus that he had not virtue enough for the vices which he condemned.
To fly for safety.
From the extremest upward of thy head,
And what may make him blush in being known, He'll stop the course by which it might be known.
Spiteful and wrathful; who, as others do,
A wretch whom nature is ashamed,
He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere,
Ill-faced, worse-bodied, shapeless every where;
Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.
Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth!
I will converse with iron-witted fools,
And unrespective boys; none are for me,
With doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.
There is no more mercy in him, than there is milk
in a male tiger.
Marked by nature with deformity.
O villains, vipers,
Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man!
This holy fox,
Or wolf, or both; for he is equal ravenous,
Thou most lying slave,
Whom stripes may move, not kindness.
For he is set so only to himself,
That nothing but himself, which looks like man,
Is friendly with him.
Or as the south to the septentrion".
O, tiger's heart, wrapp'd in a woman's hide!
One whose hard heart is button'd up with steel;
A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough;
A wolf, nay, worse, a fellow all in buff;
A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that counter
The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands.
The heaviness and guilt within my bosom
Takes off my manhood.
Thou art reverent
Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.
• The north.
Never did I know
A creature, that did bear the shape of man,
A hovering temporizer, that
Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
I never heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning, so wide of his own respect.
This outward-sainted deputy,
Whose settled visage and deliberate word
Nips youth i' the head, and follies doth enmewa
His filth within being cast, he would appear
She is beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd;
In her youth
There is a proneb and speechless dialect,
Such as moves men; beside, she hath prosperous art, When she will play with reason and discourse,
And well she can persuade.
• Shut up.