II.

What though on hamely fare we dine. 
Wear hodden gray and a’ that,
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man’s a man, for a’ that! 
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Their tinsel show, and a’ that;
The honest man, though e’er sae poor,
Is king o’ men for a’ that!

III.

Ye see yon birkie, ca’d a lord,
Wha struts, and stares, and a’ that;
Though hundreds worship at his word,
He’s but a coof for a’ that: 
For a’ that, and a’ that,
His riband, star, and a’ that;
The man of independent mind,
He looks and laughs at a’ that!

IV.

A king can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a’ that;
But an honest man’s aboon his might,
Guid faith he maunna fa’ that! 
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Their dignities, and a’ that,
The pith o’ sense, and pride o’ worth,
Are higher rank than a’ that.

V.

Then let us pray that come it may—­
As come it will for a’ that—­
That sense and worth, o’er a’ the earth
May bear the gree, and a’ that;
For a’ that, and a’ that,
It’s coming yet for a’ that,
That man to man, the warld o’er,
Shall brothers be for a’ that.

Robert burns.

CHAPTER IV.

FORMING THE ELEMENTS.

Hamlet to the players.

1.  Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue:  but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines.  Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus; but use all gently:  for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance, that may give it smoothness.

2.  Oh, it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows, and noise:  I would have such a fellow whipped for o’erdoing Termagant; it out-herods Herod:  pray you, avoid it.

3.  Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor:  suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o’erstep not the modesty of nature; for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first, and now, was, and is, to hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure.