POPULARITY,-continued.
To laugh at gibing boys, and stand the push
Of every beardless vain comparative:
Grew a companion to the common streets,
Enfeoff'd himself to popularity:
That being daily swallowed by men's eyes,
They surfeited with honey; and began
To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
More than a little is by much too much.
So, when he had occasion to be seen,
He was but as the cuckoo is in June,
Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes,
As, sick and blunted with community,
Afford no extraordinary gaze,
Such as is bent on sun-like majesty
When it shines seldom in admiring eyes. H. IV. PT. I. iii. 2.
I have seen
The dumb men throng to see him, and the blind
To hear him speak: the matrons flung their gloves,
Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs,
Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended,
As to Jove's statue; and the commons made
A shower, and thunder, with their caps and shouts.
He's lov'd of the distracted multitude,
Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes;
And, where 'tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd
But never the offence.
It hath been taught us from the primal state,
That he, which is, was wish'd until he were;
And the ebb'd man, ne'er loved, till ne'er worth love,
Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body,
Like a vagabond flag upon the stream,
Goes to, and back, lackeying the varying tide,
To rot itself with motion.
Such a noise arose
As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest,
As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks,
(Doublets, I think,) flew up; and had their faces
Been loose, this day they had been lost.
Every wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks;
A largess universal, like the sun,
POPULARITY,-continued.
His lib'ral eye doth give to every one,
Thawing cold fear.
Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bolingbroke,
Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed,
Which his aspiring rider seemed to know,
With slow, but stately pace, kept on his course;
While all tongues cry'd,-God save thee, Bolingbroke!
Yon would have thought the very windows spake
So many greedy looks of young and old
Through casements darted their desiring eyes
Upon his visage ;-and that all the walls,
With painted imagʼry, had said at once,-
JESU preserve thee: Welcome, Bolingbroke!
Whilst he, from one side to the other turning,
Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck,
Bespake them thus:-I thank you, countrymen;
And thus still doing, thus he passed along.
If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hiss him, according as he pleased, and displeased them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man. J.C. i. 2.
Marry, before he fell down when he perceived the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet, and offered them his throat to cut. An I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at his word, I would I might go to hell, among the rogues;—and so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, If he had done, or said, anything amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried, Alas, good soul,-and forgave him with all their hearts. J.C. i. 2.
Since the wisdom of their choice, is rather to have my
hat than my heart, I will practise the insinuating nod, and
be off to them most counterfeitly; that is, Sir, I will coun-
terfeit the bewitchment of some popular man, and give it
bountifully to the desirers.
Č. ii. 3.
The rabble call him lord:
And, as the world were now but to begin,
Antiquity forgot, custom not known,
The ratifiers and props of every word,
They cry,-Choose we; Laertes shall be king!
Now, when the lords, and barons of the realm,
Perceiv'd Northumberland did lean to him,
The more and less came in with cap and knee;
Met him in boroughs, cities, villages;
Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,
POPULARITY,-continued.
Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their oaths,
Gave him their heirs, as pages follow'd him,
Even at his heels, in golden multitudes.
He presently,- -as greatness knows itself,-
Steps me a little higher than his vow
Made to my father, while his blood was poor,
Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurg;
And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform
Some certain edicts, and some strait decrees,
That lie too heavy on the commonwealth:
Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep
Over his country's wrongs; and, by this face
This seeming brow of justice, did he win
The hearts of all that he did angle for.
You see, how all conditions, how all minds,
(As well of glib and slippery creatures, as
Of grave and austere quality,) tender down
Their services to Lord Timon; his large fortune
Upon his good and gracious nature hanging,
Subdues and properties to his love and tendance
All sorts of hearts.
T. A. i. 1. The wisdom of their choice is, rather to have my hat than my heart.
Observ'd his courtship to the common people:
How he did seem to dive into their hearts,
With humble and familiar courtesy ;
What reverence he did throw away on slaves;
Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles,
And patient underbearing of his fortune,
As 'twere to banish their effects with him
goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench;
A brace of draymen bid-God speed him well!
And had the tribute of his supple knee,
With-Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends.
Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro, as this
multitude?
H. VI. PT. II. iv. 8.
Look, as I blow this feather from my face,
And as the air blows it to me again,
Obeying with my wind when I do blow,
And yielding to another when it blows,
Commanded always by the greater gust;
Such is the lightness of you common men.
POPULARITY,-continued.
The common people swarm like summer flies,
And whither fly the gnats but to the sun?
The commonwealth is sick of their own choice,
Their over-greedy love hath surfeited:-
A habitation giddy and unsure
Hath he, that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
O thou fond many! with what loud applause
Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke,
Before he was what thou wouldst have him be!
And being now trimm'd in thine own desires,
Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him,
That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up.
When he had done, some followers of mine own
At lower end of the hall, hurl'd up their caps,
And some ten voices cried, God save King Richard!
And thus I took the 'vantage of those few,
Thanks, gentle citizens, and friends, quoth I;
This general applause, and cheerful shout,
Argues your wisdom, and your love to Richard:
And even here broke off, and came away.
I had rather have one scratch my head i' the sun,
When the alarum was struck, than idly sit
To hear my nothings monster'd.
Faith, there have been many great men who have flattered the people, who ne'er loved them; and there be many that they have lov'd, they know not where fore; so that, if they love they know not why, they hate upon no better ground.
I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands,
Nor posted off their suits with slow delays;
My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds,
My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs,
My mercy dried their water-flowing tears:
I have not been desirous of their wealth,
Nor much oppress'd them with great subsidies,
Nor forward of revenge, though they much err'd
Then why should they love Edward more than me?
But do not like to stage me to their eyes;
Though it do well, I do not relish well
Their loud applause, and aves vehement;
Nor do I think the man of safe discretion,
That does affect it.
POPULARITY,-continued.
Like one of two contending in a prize,
That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes,
Hearing applause, and universal shout,
Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt
Whether those peals of praise be his or no.
PORTENTS (See also PRODIGIES).
The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign;
The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time;
Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down trees;
The raven rooked her on the chimney top,
And chattering pies in dismal discord sung.
Before the days of change, still is it so;
By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust
Ensuing danger; as, by proof, we see
The water swell before a boist'rous storm.
When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks
When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?
Untimely storms make men expect a dearth?
Warnings, and portents, and evils ominous.
The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes;
And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves,
R. III. ii. 3.
J. C. ii. 2.
Foretells a tempest and a blustering day. H.IV. PT. I. v. 1.
How bloodily the sun begins to peer
Above yon busky hill! the day looks pale
At his distemperature.
Truly, the hearts of men are full of fear:
You cannot reason almost with a man
That looks not heavily, and full of dread.
PORTRAIT (See also PAINTING).
See, what a grace was seated on this brow:
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;
An eye like Mars to threaten and command;
A station, like the herald Mercury,
New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill
A combination, and a form, indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal,
To give the world assurance of a man.
Thou shalt be worshipp'd, kiss'd, lov'd, and ador'd.
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