Page 2885 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity -
So it be new there’s no respect how vile - [25]
That is not quickly buzz’d into his ears?
Then all too late comes counsel to be heard
Where will doth mutiny with wit’s regard.
Direct not him whose way himself will choose.
’Tis breath thou lack’st, and that breath wilt thou lose. [30]

GAUNT

Methinks I am a prophet new-inspir’d,
And thus, expiring, do foretell of him:
His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last;
For violent fires soon burn out themselves.
Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; [35]
He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes;
With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder.
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,
Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, [40]
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world, [45]
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house
Against the envy of less happier lands;
This blessèd plot, this earth, this realm, this England, [50]
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
Fear’d by their breed, and famous by their birth,
Renownèd for their deeds as far from home
For Christian service and true chivalry
As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry [55]
Of the world’s ransom, blessèd Mary’s son;
This land of such dear soul, this dear dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leas’d out - I die pronouncing it -
Like to a tenement or pelting farm. [60]
England, bound in with the triumphant sea,
Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege