Great Britain -- History -- Poetry; Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 -- Sources
Serue trulye your prince and feare not[1460] rebels might,
On princes halues the mightie God doth fight:
O much more then forsweare a forrein foe,
Who seeketh your realme and countrie to vndo:
Murther detest, haue handes vnstaind with bloud,
Aye with your succour do protect the good,
Chace treason where trust should be, wed to your frend
Your hart and power, to your liue’s last end.
80.
Flie tickle credit, shunne alike distrust:
To true it is, and credite it you must:
The ialous nature wanteth no stormy strife,
The simple soule aye leadeth a sower life:
Beware of flatterers, frendes in outward show:
Best is of such to make your[1461] open foe:
What al men seeke, that al men seeke to fayne,
Some such to bee, some such to seeme, them payne.
81.
Marke God’s iust iudgements, punishing sinne by sinn,
And slipperie state wherein aloft we swimme:
The prouerbe, al day vp if we ne fall,
Agreeth wel to vs hie heaued worldlinges al:
From common sort vpraisde[1462] in honour’s weede
We shine, while fortune false, whom none erst feede,
To stand with staye and forsweare ticklenesse,
Sowseth vs in myre of durtie brittlenesse.
82.
And learne ye princes by my wronged sprite,
Not to misconster what is ment aright,
The whinged wordes too oft preuent the wyt,
When silence cesseth afore the lips to sit:
Alas, what may the wordes yeld worthy death?
The wordes worst is, the speaker’s stinking breath:
Wordes are but winde, why cost they then so much
The guiltye kycke, when they to smartly touche.
83.
Forth irreturnable flyeth the spoken word,
Be hit in scoffe, in earnest, or in bourd:
Without retourne, and vnreceiued, hit hangs,
And at the taker’s mercie, or rigour, stands:
Which if he sowerly wrest with wrathful cheare,
The shiuering word turnes to the speaker’s feare:
If frendly curtesie do the word expound,[1463]
To the speaker’s comfort swetely it doth redound.[1464]
84.
Euen as the vapour which the fier repels,
Turnes not to earth, but in myd aer dwels
Where while it hangth, if _Boreas’_ frosty flawes
With rigour rattle it, not to rayne it thawes,
But thunder, lightninges, ratling hayle, or[1465] snowe,
Sendes downe to earth, whence first it rose below:
But if fayre _Phœbus_ with his countenaunce swete
Resolue it, downe the dew, or manna, sleete.[1466]
85.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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