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,
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 blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
_King Richard II_, Act ii, sc. 1, l. 40-46.
"Histories", p. 28, col. B, lines 17-23.
In argument and proof of which contract,
Bear her this jewel, pledge of my affection.
_I Henry VI_, Act v, sc. 2, l. 46, 47.
"Histories", p. 115, col. A, lines 8, 9.
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night,
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.
_Romeo and Juliet_, Act i, sc. 5, l. 47-49.
"Tragedies", p. 57, col. B, lines 59-61.
But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger
A precious ring, a ring that I must use
In dear employment.
_Romeo and Juliet_, Act v, sc. 3, l. 30-32.
"Tragedies", p. 75, col. A, lines 34-36.
A striking proof that Shakespeare had no fear of tautology when he
wished to strengthen the impression of a word by constant reiteration
is given in the _Merchant of Venice_ (Act v, sc. 2), whence we have
already quoted a few lines. The passage concerns the disposal by
Bassanio of a ring he had received from Portia, and he answers her
thus in the First Folio text:[34]
_Bassanio_. Sweet _Portia_,
If you did know to whom I gave the Ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the Ring,
And would conceive for what I gave the Ring,
And how unwillingly I left the Ring,
When naught would be accepted but the Ring,
You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
_Portia._
If you had knowne the virtue of the Ring,
Or halfe her worthinesse that gave the Ring,
Or your owne honour to contains the Ring,
You would not then have parted with the Ring.
[Footnote 34: First Folio, "Comedies", p. 183, col. B, lines 36-46.]
It was probably more than a coincidence that Shakespeare's first
printed book, "Venus and Adonis", was published, in 1593, by a
fellow-townsman, Richard Field, who had come up to London from
Stratford when a mere boy. Undoubtedly, when Shakespeare met him in
the bustle of city life, the common memories of their quieter native
town served at once as an introduction and as a link between them.
Field also published Shakespeare's "Lucrece" in the year 1594. He had
been a freeman of the Stationers' Company from February 6, 1587, and
died either in the year the First Folio was issued, or in the
succeeding year, 1624.
[Illustration: Printer's mark of Richard Field, as shown on the
title-page of the first edition of Shakespeare's "Venus and Adonis",
1593, the unique copy of which is in the Bodleian Library, Oxford. A
hand emerging from a cloud upholds the "Anchor of Hope", about which
are twined two laurel branches.]