GENTLEMAN.

He is gentil that doth gentil dedis. Canterbury Tales:  The Wyf of Bathes Tale.  CHAUCER.

  The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne;
  For a man by nothing is so well bewrayed
  As by his manners.
Faerie Queene, Bk.  VI.  Canto IV.  E. SPENSER.

  Tho’ modest, on his unembarrassed brow
  Nature had written—­“Gentleman.”
Don Juan, Canto IX.  LORD BYRON.

  I freely told you, all the wealth I had
  Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman.
Merchant of Venice, Act iii, Sc. 2.  SHAKESPEARE.

  “I am a gentleman.”  I’ll be sworn thou art;
  Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions and spirit,
  Do give thee five-fold blazon.
Twelfth Night, Act i.  Sc. 5.  SHAKESPEARE.

  Nothing to blush for and nothing to hide,
  Trust in his character felt far and wide;
  Be he a noble, or be he in trade,
  This is the gentleman Nature has made.
What is a Gentleman?  N.L.  O’DONOGHUE.

  And thus he bore without abuse
    The grand old name of gentleman,
    Defamed by every charlatan,
  And soiled with all ignoble use.
In Memoriam, CX.  A. TENNYSON.

His tribe were God Almighty’s gentlemen. Absalom and Achitophel.  J. DRYDEN.

GHOST.

  What beckoning ghost along the moonlight shade
  Invites my steps and points to yonder glade?
To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady.  A. POPE.

  What gentle ghost, besprent with April dew,
  Hails me so solemnly to yonder yew?
Elegy on the Lady Jane Pawlet.  B. JONSON.

    By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
  Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard
  Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers.
King Richard III., Act v.  Sc. 3.  SHAKESPEARE.

  And then it started, like a guilty thing
  Upon a fearful summons.  I have heard,
  The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
  Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
  Awake the god of day; and at his warning,
  Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
  The extravagant and erring spirit hies
  To his confine.
Hamlet, Act i.  Sc. 1.  SHAKESPEARE.

    MACBETH.  Thou canst not say I did it; never shake
    Thy gory locks at me.

* * * * *

LADY MACBETH.  O proper stuff! 
This is the very painting of your fear;
This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,
Led you to Duncan. 
MACBETH.  Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! how
say you?

* * * * *

                   The times have been,
  That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
  And there an end; but now they rise again,
  With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
  And push us from our stools.