The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; his legs
are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; his legs
are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
I, I, I myself
sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand, and hiding
mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge,
and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags,
your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and
your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your honour!
Learn, good soul,
To think our former state a happy dream;
From which awak'd, the truth of what we are
Shows us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet,
To grim Necessity; and he and
Will keep a league till death.
This is the excellent foppery of the world that when we are sick in fortune -- often the surfeits of our own behavior -- we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and stars, as if we were villains on necessity, fools by heavenly compulsion, knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance, drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforced obedience of planetary influence. An admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition on the charge of a star.
We make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon and the stars as if we were villains by necessity, fools by heavenly compulsion.
First, her father slain;
Next, Your son gone, and he most violent author
Of his own just remove; the people muddied,
Thick and and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers
For good Polonius' death, and we have done but greenly
In hugger-mugger to inter him; Poor Ophelia
Divided from herself and her fair-judgment,
Without the which we are Pictures or mere beasts;
Last, and as such containing as all these,
Her brother is in secret come from France;
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
Feeds on his wonder, keep, himself in clouds,
With pestilent speeches of his father's death,
Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,
Will nothing stick Our person to arraign
In ear and ear.
God comfort him in this necessity!
The art of our necessities is strange, That can make vile things precious.
Teach thy necessity to reason thus:
There is no virtue like necessity.
He hath wronged me in some humours; I should
have borne the humour'd letter to her; but I have a sword,
and it shall bite upon my necessity.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories