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The hopes we have in him touch ground, And dash themselves to pieces.
I took him for the plainest harmless't creature,
So smooth he daub'd his vice with show of virtue.
So finely bolted* didst thou seem :
And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot,
With some suspicion.
To mark the full-fraught man, and best endued,†
Thou concludest like the sanctimonious pirate, that went to sea with the ten commandments, but scraped one out of the table.
In following him I follow but myself;
Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
Thou art a traitor and a miscreant!
Too good to be so, and too bad to live;
Since, the more fair and crystal is the sky,
The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly.
If you were born to honour, show it now; If put upon you, make the judgment good That thought you worthy of it.
You play the spaniel,
And think with wagging of your tongue to win me; But, whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I am sure
Thou hast a cruel nature.
Think him as a serpent's egg,
Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind,* grow mis
A serviceable villain,
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress,
That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;
Correction and instruction must both work,
Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
My idleness doth hatch.
Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;
Thy school-days, frightful, desperate, wild, and fuThy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and venturous; Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred.
Fear, and not love, begets his penitence;
Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time
Upon thy eyeballs murd'rous tyranny
Thus merely with the garment of a grace,
None serve with him but constrained things,
What shall I say to thee, thou cruel,
Thou that did'st bear the key of all my counsels,
That almost might'st have coin'd me into gold-
That, though the truth of it stands off as gross
I will weep for thee;
For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like
Another fall of man.
The image of a wicked heinous fault
Lives in his eye; that close aspect of his
Does show the mood of a much-troubled breast.
Thus do all traitors;
If their purgation did consist in words,
Came he right now* to sing a raven's note,
Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward;
Thou little valiant, great in villany!
Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!
Thou fortune's champion, that dost never fight
To teach thee safety!
An inhuman wretch,
Uncapable of pity, void and empty
From any dram of mercy.
Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrow'd,
Is he a lanıb? his skin is surely lent him,
For he's inclined as are the ravenous wolves,
"Tis not impossible,
But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground,
In all his dressings,† characts, titles, forms,
* Just now.
† Habits and characters of office.
His gift is in devising impossible* slanders: none but libertines delight in him; and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany.t
Which any print of goodness will not take,
Being capable of all ill.
Now I feel
Of what coarse metal ye are moulded,-envy.
Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin!
You have Christian warrant for them, and, no doubt, In time will find their fit rewards.
Mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns,
That dwell in every region of his face.
Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee,
Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes;
That, when I note another man like him,
I may avoid him.
And am I then a man to be beloved?
O monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought!
Though you can guess what temperance should be,
You know not what it is.
† In his devising slanders.