Defcription of Dover Cliff. How fearful And dizzy 'tis to caft one's Eyes fo low! The Crows and Choughs, that wing the midway Air, Preferment. 'Tis the Curfe of Service; Preferment goes by Letter, and Affection, Edgar. Ibid. And not by old Gradation, where each second Stood Heir to th' first. Fago. Othello Moor of Venice. Content in Riches. Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough; But Riches fineless, is as poor as Winter, To him that ever fears he fhall be poor. Barge. Fago. Ibid. Eno. The Barge fhe fat in, like a burnish'd Throne Burnt on the Water; the Poop was beaten Gold, Purple the Sails, and fo perfumed, that The Winds were Love-fick. With them the Oars were Silver, Which to the Tune of Flutes kept ftroke, and made The Fancy out-work Nature. On each fide her Agrippa. Oh rare for Antony. Enobarbus. Her Gentlewomen, like the Nereides, And made their bends adornings. At the Helm, Antony and Cleopatra. Fortune forms our Judgments. I fee Mens Judgments are A Parcel of their Fortunes, and Things outward Do draw the inward Quality after them To fuffer all alike. Loyalty. Mine Honefty, and I, begin to fquare; The Loyalty well held to Fools, does make Our Faith meer Folly; yet he that can endure To follow with Allegiance a fall'n Lord, Eno. Ibid. Do's conquer him that did his Mafter conquer, And earns a Place i' th' Story. Eno. Ibid. On Gold. 'Tis Gold Which buys Admittance, oft it doth, yea, and makes Diana's Rangers falfe themselves, and yield up Their Deer to th' Stand of the Stealer. And 'tis Gold Which makes the True Man kill'd, and faves the Thief; Nay, fometimes hangs both Thief and True-Man: What Can it not do, and undo? Cymbeline, Cloten. Slander. No, 'tis Slander, Whofe Edge is fharper than the Sword, whofe Tongue All Corners of the World. Kings, Queens, and States, Melancholy. Oh Melancholy! Pifanio. Ibid. Who ever yet could found thy Bottom? Find Bellarins. Ibid. |