To shake with laughter ere the jest they hear, To pour at will the counterfeited tear; And, as their patron hints the cold or heat, To shake in dog-days, in December sweat. Samuel JohnsonLondon. L. 140.
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have. Henry VIII. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 368.
At the throngd levee bends the venal tribe: With fair but faithless smiles each varnishd oer, Each smooth as those that mutually deceive, And for their falsehood each despising each. ThomsonLiberty. Pt. V. L. 190.