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A soldier-not fierce and terrible
Only in strokes; but with thy grim looks, and
Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world
A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown,
My crown is in my heart, not on my head;
Sundry blessings hang about his throne,
When that the general is not like the hive,
To whom the foragers shall all repair,
What honey is expected ?* Degree being vizarded,t The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.
The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre,
Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
The meaning is,-When the general is not to the army, like the hive to the bees, the repository of the stock of every individual, that to which each particular resorts with whatever he has collected for the good of the whole, what honey is expected-what hope of advantage? † Masked. Constancy.
Here is more than a hint of the Copernican system. Copernicus died 1543; twenty-one years before the birth of Shakspeare.
And posts, like the commandment of a king,
Sans* check, to good and bad: But, when the planets, In evil mixture, to disorder wander,
What plagues, and what portents? what mutiny? What raging of the sea? shaking of earth? Commotion in the winds? frights, changes, horrors, Divert and crack, rend and deracinatef
The unity and married calm of states
Quite from their fixture? O, when degree is shaked,
The enterprise is sick! How could communities,
And the rude son should strike his father dead :
And appetite, an universal wolf,
So doubly seconded with will and power,
This chaos, when degree is suffocate,
And this neglection of degree it is,
That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose
* Without. Corporations, companies.
Force up by the roots. § Divided. Absolute.
Of his superior, grows to an envious fever
While that the armed hand doth fight abroad,
Therefore doth Heaven divide
The singing masons, building roofs of gold;
The lazy yawning drone. I this infer,—
As many several ways meet in one town;
One would have ling'ring wars with little cost;
Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war.
Mirror of all martial men.
Were it good,
To set the exact wealth of all our states
On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
The commonwealth is sick of their own choice,
Omit no happy hour,
This might have been prevented, and made whole,
Which now the manage of two kingdoms must
With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.
Good fortune bids us pause,
And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks.
The fat ribs of peace
Must by the hungry now be fed upon.
God, if thy will be so,
Enrich the time to come with smooth-faced peace,
Shall we, upon the footing of our land,
Send fair-play orders, and make compromise,
Insinuation, parley, and base truce,
To arms invasive?
Now join your hands, and, with your hands, your
That no dissension hinder government.
Leaving our rankness and irregular course,
Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlook'd
I find the people strangely fantasied;
Possess'd with rumours, full of idle dreams;
They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know
Conjectural marriages; making parties strong,