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§ 24. THE THIRD PART OF HENRY VI. How well resembles it the prime of youth,

SHAKS PEARE. Trimm d like a yonker prancing to his love?
The Transports of a Crown.
but think

The Morning's Dawn.
How sweet a thing it is to wcar a crown; When dying clouds contend with growing light;

This battle fares like to the morning's war,
Within whole circuit is Elysium,
And all chat poets feign of blits and joy.

What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails,

Can neither call it perfect day or night.
A bungry Lion.
So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch

The Blissings of a Shepherd's Life.
That trembles under his devouring paws :

O God! mcthinks, it were a happy life, And so he walks, infulting o'er his prey;

To be no better than a homely fwain; And so he comes to rend his limbs alunder.

To fit upoa a hill, as I do now,

To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, The Duke of York on the gallant Behaviour of Thereby to see the mirrutis how they run: bis Sons.

How many make the hour full complete, Mysons-God knowlswhat hath bechanc'dthem: How many hours bring about the day, But this I know-they have demcan'd themselves How many days will finith UP


Like men born to renown, by lite, or death. How many years a mortal man may live.
Three times did Richard make a lane to me, When this is known, then to divide the times :
And thrice cried, “ Courage, faiher! fight it out!" So many hours must I tend my flock;
And full as oft eine Edward to my side, So many hours must I tåke my reit;
With purple frulchion painted to the hiit So many hours must I contemplate;
In blood of thote that had encounter'd hin: So many hours must I sport mytelf;
And when the hardieft warriors did retire, So many days, my ewes have been with young;
Richard crick, “ Charge! and give no fuot of So many weeks, cre the poor fools will yean;

So many months, erc I thall sheer the ficece: And cried, “ A crown, or clfe a glorious tomb! So minútes, hours, days, wecks,months, and years, “ A sceptre, or an carthly fepulchre !"

Past over to the end they were created, With this we charg'd again : but out, alas! Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. We body'd

again; as I have seen a livan Ah what a lire were this! how fivect! hourlovely! With bootless labour livim agzinft the tile, Gives not the hawthorn buth a fwecter shade And pend her firength with over-matching To thepherds, looking on their hilly thcep,

Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy
A Father's Pation on the Vurder of a favourite

To kings, that fear their subjects treachery ?

O, yes, it doth; a thousand fold it doth.
Orger's heart, wrapp'd in a woman's hide!

And to conclude the thepherd's homely curds, How could it thou drain the lifc-blood of the child. His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, To bid the father wipe his eyes withal,

His wonted flecp under a frcíh trec's fhade, And be foon to bear a woman's face?

üll which secure and sweetly he enjoy's, yet Women are fott, mild, pitiful, and flexible ;

Is far beyond a prince's delicates, Thou stern, obdurate, fiinty, rough, reinorteless.

His vianil sparkling in a golden cup,

His body couched in a curious bed, That face of his the hungry cannibals

Whea carc, iniltruit, and treason wait on hiin. Would not have touch'd, would not have stain't

with blood:

Look, as I blow this feather from my face,
But you are more inhuman, more inexorable- and as the air blows it to ine again,
O, ten tinies inore than tigers of Hyrcania. Obeying with my wind, when I do blow,
Sce, ruthlets queen, a haplets father's tears: And yielding to another when it blows,
This clot! thou diipp dit in blood of my fueet boy, | Commanded always by the greater guft;
And I with tears do wash the blood away. Such is the lightness of your coinmon men.
Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this:

A Simile on ambitious Thoughts.
And, if they tell'lt the houry fiory right,

Why, then I do but dream on fov'rcignty;
Upon my foul, the hearers will fhid tears ;

Like one that stands upon a promontory'.
Yea, even my fue's will ihed fait falling tears,
And fay, “Alas, it was a piteous deed!"

And spies a far-oti Thore where he would treat,

Wishing his foot were equal with his cye!
The Duke of York in Battle.

And chides the fea that funders him from thencer
M thought, hu bore him in the thickest troop, Saying-holl lade it dry, to leave his way.
As doth a lion in a herd of ncat;

Gloucester's Deformity.
Or as a bear, cncompass d round with dors,
Who having pinch'd a few, and made them cry,

Why, love fortu orc me in my mother's wombs

And, for I Mould not deal in her soft law's,
The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him.

She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe
The Morning

To thrink mine arm up like a wither'd firub;
Sce how the morning opes her golden gates,

To make an envious mountain on my back, And takes her farct cofilo glorous tuu! Jl'herc tits deformity to mock my body;



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To shape my legs of an unequal fize;

You fight in justice: then, in God's name, Lords,
To disproportion me in every part:

Be valiant, and give signal to the fight.
Like to a chaus, or an unlick'd bear-whelp,

Omens on the Birth of Richard III.
That carries no impreilion like the dum.

The owl thrick'd at thy birth, an evil sign ;,
And am I then a man to be belov'd ?

The night-crow cried, a boding lucklufs tune;
Gloucester's Difimulation.

Dogs howld, and hidcous tempeits thook down
Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile;

And cry, content, to that which grievos sny heart; The raven rook'd her on the chimney's top,
And wet my cheeks with artificial tears ;

And chattering pyes in ditinal discords fung:
And frame my face to all occasions :

Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain,
171 chrown more failors than the mermaid shall;

And vet brought forth lets than a mother's hope;
Till say more gazers than the batiliik;

To wit-an indigeft, deformed lump,

Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree.
I'll play the orator as well as Neftor,
Decizie more Nily than Ulyffus could,

Teeth hadít thou in thy head when thou wast born,
And, like a Sinon, take another Troy :

To fignify-thou cam'ft to bite the world :
I can add colouis to the camelcon;

And, if the rest be true which I have heard.
Thou cam'ft“ into the world with thy legs for-

Change ihapes, with Proteus, for advantages,

“ ward."
And let the murd'rous Machiavel to school.
Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?
Henry VI. On bis ozon Lenity.

I have not stopt mine cars to their demands,

Nor posted off their fulis with flow delays;

My pity hath tee i balm to heal their wounds,
My mildness hath allay'd their livelling griefs,

climb steep hills,

Requires flow pace at first. Anger is like
My mercy dried their water-flowing tcais. A full-hot horfe, who, being aliow'd his way,
I have not been desirous of their wealth,

Self mettle tires hiin.
Nor much oppress’d them with great subsidies, Akiion to be carried on with Resolution.
Nor forward of revenge, tho' they much err'd.

-If I am
The Earl of Warwick's dying Speech. Traduc'd byignorant tongues, which neither know
Ah, who is nigh? Come to me, friend or foe, My faculties, nor person, yet will be
And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick : The chronicles of my doing-let me fay,
Why ask I that? My mangled body thews; 'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brako
My blood, mywant of strength, my lick heart thews, | That virtue must go through. We mult not stint
That I must vield my body to the earth, Our neceflary actions, in the fear
And, by my fall, the conqucit to my


To core malicious censurers ; which crer,
Thus yields the cedlar to the axe's edyc, As ravinous nilhos, do a velel follow
Whofu arms gave thelter to the princely cagle, That is new trimn'd; but benefit no further
Under whole shade the ramping lion slept; Than vainly longing. What we oft do belt,
Whose top-branch overpeer'd love stjpreading trce, By fick interpreters, once wcak ones, is
And kept low thrubs from winter's powerful wind. Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft
Those eyes, that now are dimm dwith death's black Hitting a grofler quality, is cried up

For our beti act. Ifrie ihall stand still,
Have been as piercing as the mid-day fun, In fear, our motion will be mock d or carp'd at,
To search the focie: treafons of the world. We should take root here, where wc sit, or sit
The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with blood!, Statc-statues only.
Were liken'd oft to kingly fepulchres;

Necu Cirioms.
For who liv'd king, but I could dig his grave?

-New customs,
And who durit iimile, when Warwick bent his Though they be never so ridiculous,

Nav, let 'en be womanly, yet are follow'd.
Lo, now my glory smcard in dust and blood!

The Duke oj Buckingham's Prayer for the King.
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,

-Vay he live
Ev'n now forsake mc; and, of all my lands,

Longer than I have time to tell his years !
Is nothing left me, but my body's length. Ever belov'd, and loving, may his rule be!
Eileen Margaret's Speech before the Battle of And, when old time frall lead him to his end,

Goodness and he fill up one monument !
Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen, what I fiould Dependents not to be too much trusted by great Men,
My tears gainfay; for every word I speak, [lay, This from a dying man receive as certain :
Yé fee, I drink the water of my eyes.

Where you are liberal of your loves, and counsels,
Therefore, no more but this: Henry,your sovereign, Be sure you be not loose ; furthol you make friends,
Is prisoner to the foe, his state ulurp'd,

And give your hearts ro, when they once perceive
His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects Nain, The least rub in your fortunes, fall

His statutes cancell'd, and his treature fpont;

Like water from ye, never found again
And ycnder is the wolf that makes this fpoil :

But w!cre they mean to link ye.

A good

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A good Wife.

On ber own Merit.
A loss of her,

Have I liv'd thus long (lit me freak myself,
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years

Since virtue finds no friends) a wife, a true one?
About his neck, yet never lost her lutire; À woman (I dare say without vain glory)
Of her, that loves him with that excellence Never yet branded with suspicion?
That angels love yood men with; even of her, Have I with all my full affection [him
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune fails, Still met the king : lov'd him next Heaven: obey'd
Will bless the king.

Been, out of fondness, fuperstitious to him?
The Blcfings of a low Station.

Almost forgot my prayers to content him
'l is better to be lowly born,

sind am I thus icwarded ? 'Tis not well, lords. And range with humble livers in content, Bring me a constant woman to her husband, Then to be perk d up in a glittring grief,

One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his plea-
And wear a golden forrow.
Qureen Catherine's Spach to her Hufland.

And to that woman, when she has done mot,
-Alas, Sir,

Yet will I add an honour-a great patier.ce.
In what have I oftended you? What cause

Queen Catharine compared to a Lily. lfath my behaviour given to your difpleasure,

Like the lily,
That thus you thouid proceed to put me off, That once was mistress of the field, and flourisha,
And take your good grace from me: Heaven I'll hang my head, and perish.

Obedience to Princes.
I have been to you a true and humble wife,
rit l ubics to vour will conformable :

The hearts of princes kiss obedience, Ever in jur to kindle rour diilike,

So much they love it: but to stubborn fpirits, Bca, faljest to your count'nance; glad or forry

They livell, and grow as terrible as storms. As I fill it inclin'd. When was the hour,

Horror, its cutward Effects.
I ever con radicted your dofire,

-Some strange commotion
O- made it not mine too: Which of your friends Is in his brain: he bites his iip, and starts ;
Have I not truve to love, although I knew

Stops on a tudden, looks upon the ground,
He were mine enemy? What friend of mine,

Then lays his finger on his temple; straight That had to liim deriv'd your anger, did I

Springs out into fait gait; then liops again, Continue in my liking? Nay, gave notice,

Strikes his breast hard; and anon he casts He was from thence discharg'd Sir, call to mind His eye against the moon: in most strange postures 'That I have been your wife, in this obedience,

We've fecn hin fet himself. Upward of twenty years; and have been blet'

Firm Allegiance. With many cluildren by you. If, in the course

--Though perils did And procets of this time, you can report,

Abound as thick as thought could make 'em, an: Avd prove it too, agairf mine honour aught,

Appear in forms as horrid; vet my duty, My bond to wedloch, or iny love and duty,

di doch a rock against the chiding food, gainit your facred person, in God's name

Should the approach of this wild river break, Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt

And stand unthaken yours. Shut door upon me, and to give me up

Anger, its external

Effects. To the charpes kind of justice.

What sudden anger's this: How have I reap'd
Queen Cailerine's Speech to Cardinal Ilo?sey.

He parted frowning from me, as if ruin
You are meck, and humble mouth il; Leap id from his eyes : fo looks the chafed lion
You riga your place and calving, in full feeming, Upon the daring huntsman that has gall’d him ;
With inciknefs and humility : but your heart

Then inakes him nothing.
Is cramin' with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.

Falling Greatness.
You have, by fortune, and his higingss' favours,

-Nay, then farewel!
Gone flightiv oer low ftrages; and now I have touch'd the liighest point of all my greatness;
MCU tee,

And, from that full ineridian of my glory,
Where pow'rsire rourretainers: and your words, I hatte now to my fetting. I hall fall,
Denetiis to you, terve veur will, as 't plałe


Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
Yourself pronounce their orice. i musi tell you, And no man fee me more.
You iorder more your person's honour, than

I be l'iciffitudes of Life.
Your haigh profeflon fpiritual

So firewel to the little good you bear me. King Henry's Clarat?er of Queen Catharine. Farewel, a long farewe!, to all my greatnets!

i hat man i're work wiin anii report he lias This is the state of man: To-day he puts forth A better wifi, let him ir nellt be trusted, The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, For speaking faile in that: lnou art, ajone, And bears his bluining honours


upon (lir v rarqui's, fiveet genticne s,

The third day concs a fiolt, a kiliing frott; invine kreis Lubrike, vire-like government,

And when he thinks, good eafy man, full surely Oveying in commoding, und t'iy parts

llis grea:nc's is a ripuding, nijs his sout, Sovereign and pious cite, ceile vurduktrice out) And then die filiis I do. I have veaturd, 'The Guins of Cartly que ni.

Liseliitie limon boys, that train on bladders,

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11sriy ji yners in a sea of glory;

“ Give him a litele carth for charity!" huis y Ter.y depth : my high-blown pride So went to bed : where cagerly his fickness ¿iintat Obelinder inc; and now has loit me, Purucu bim still; and, three nights efter this, Timely, td with survive, to the mercy About the hour of cigh: (i hich he himself Cizinci it eam, that must for ever hide me. Fortto d thould be his last), full of repentance, Verilyn,

muid glory of this world, I hate ye! Continual meditations, tears and forrows, It! 11; heart now open d. O, how wretched "Te gave his honours to the world again, is har. Ruoi inan that 1.20 45 on princes' favours ! His picted part to hcaven, and fupi in peace, This is, berwixt that fmie we wouid aipire 10,

llis. Vices and Virtues. That te eet alpert of princes, and our ruin, Mare !! paogs and fears tbau war or women have;

So may be reft; his fa ilts lie gently on him! An', when he falls, he falls like Lucifur,

Yet thus far, Goutth, give me leave to 1pcak him, Nein! in locpe ay ain.

And yet with churity--e vas a man

Of an unbounded livinach, ever ranking
Cardinal Wolsey's Speech to Cromwell.

Himtelf with princes; one, that by fuggeftion
Cromwell, I did not think to thed a icar Tied all the kingdom: fiimony was fair play;
In ail my miserics; but thou haft forc'd me, llis own opinion was his law: l’the presence
Out of thi honek iruth, to pay the wom211. Ile would fay untruths; and be ever double,
Losd your eyes: and thus farhear me,Cromweil; | Both in his words and meaning: He was never,
And went a'r forgotten, as I thail be, But where he went to ruin, pitiful:
A: d llcep in dull cold marble, where no mention is promises were, as he then was, mighty ;
Cfare mere must bu hcard of, say, I taught thee, But his performance, as he now is, nothing.
Say, Wolley, that once trod the ways of glory, Of his own body he was iil, and gave
And founded all the depths and thoals of honour, The clergy ill example.
Found thice a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; Griff. Nohle 11adam,
A lure and safe one, though thy maficr mils d it.

Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtucs Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me. We write in water. Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition ;

This cardinal, By that fin feil the angels ; how can man then, Tro' from an humble stock, undoubtedly The image of his M. her, hope to win by't? Was fashion'd to much honour. From his cradle Lovethyfelflaît:cherith those heartsthat liate thee; He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Corruption wins not more than honcfiy. Exceeding wile, fair spoken, and persuading: Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, Lofty, and four, to them that lov'd him not; To filence envious tonçues. Be jutt, and fcor not: But.tothoicmenthatfought him, tweet as summer. Let all the ends thou aim'ft at, be thv country

and though he 'verc unsatisfied in getting Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fallit, o (Which was a fin), yet in beítowing, madam, Cromwell,

He was most princely: erer witness for him Thou fali'ft a blessed martyr. Serve the king; Thote twins of learning that he rais'd in you, And, prythce, lead me in:

Ipiwich and Oxford ! one of which fell with him, There take an inventory of all I have,

Unwilling to out-live the good he did it: To the last penny ; 'tis the king's: My robe, The other, though unfinih'd, yet fo famous, And my init grity to Heaven, is all

So excellent in ait, and still lo riling,
I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Crornwell, That Chrittendom shall ever speak his virtue.
Had I but serv'd my God wit half the 7cal His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
I serv'd my king, he would not in mind age for then, and not till then, be felt himself,
Have left ine nakud to mine enemies !

And found the bleficuncis of being little :

And, 10 add greater huncurs to his age
Such a noise arose

Than man could give him, he died fcaring God. As the shrouds make at ita in a fun tumpesi,

Malicious Men.
As loud, and to as many tunes : Hars, cloaks,

-Men that make
(Doublets, I think), Heww up; and had tj. ir faces Envy and croci:cd malice nourishment,
Been loose, this day they had been lott. Such joy Dare bite the best.
I never saw before. Creat-bullied women,

A Church-Man.
That had not half a weck inge, like rains

-Love and meeknels, Lord, In the vid time of war, would shake the press,

Become a church-man better than ambition : And make'em reel before 'em. No man living Could tay, “this is my wife," there; all were voven Caft none away.

Win (traying fouls with modesty again,
So strangely in one picce.

Cardinal Wolfiy's Deaib.

'Tis a cruelty,
At last, with easy roads, he carne to Leicester, ro load a falling man.--
Lodg'd in the abbey; where the rev'rend abbot,
With all his convent, honourably receiv'i him;

Archbishop Cranmer's Prophecy.
To whom he gave these words: “O farnir abbot,

Let me sperk, Sir, “ An old man, broken with the storms of itatc, For Heaveo vow bid, me; and the words I utter • Is come to lay his pary bores aipong ye ;

| Let none think fattery, for they'll find them truth. f%




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This royal infant (ITeaven ftill move about her!), 1 (Saving in dialogue of compliment;
Tho' in a cradle, yct now promites

And talking of the Alps and Apennincs,
Upon this land a thousand, thousand blellings, The Pyrenean, and the river Po),
Which time thall bring to ripeness. She shall be lt draws toward fupper in conclusion, so.
(But fow now living can behold that goodness)

But this is worshiptul society,
A pattern to all princes living with her, And fits the mounting spirit, like myself :
And all that shall succeed: Shcba was never

For he is but a bafiard to thic time,
More coretous of wisdom, and fair virtuc, That doch not finack of observation.
Than this blest soul shall be. All princely graces,

A Defcription of England. That mould up luch a nighty piece as this,

That pale, that white-fac'd thore, With all the virtues that attend the good, Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides, Shall still be doubledon her. Truth shall nurse her; And comps from other lands her islanders ; Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her.

Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main, She shall be lowd and feard. Her own shall bless That water-walled bulwark, still fecure Her focs thake like a field of beaten corn, [her; And confident from forcign purposes, And hang their heads with forrow. Good grows Even till that utmost corner of the west, with her.

Salute thee for her king. In her days, ev'ry man thall cat in safety, [nder his own vine, what he plants; and sing

Description of an English Army. The micrry fongs of peace to all his ncighbours.

His marches are expedient to this town, God thall be truly known; and those about her His forces strong, his foldiers confident. Fron: her thall read the perfect ways of honour,

With hin along is come the mother queen, Ini by thoic claiin their grcatness, not by blood. An Até firring him to blood and strife ; Vor thail this peace Sleep with her; but, as when With her, her niece, the lady Blanch of Spainz The bird of wonder dies, the inaiden phænix,

With them a bastard of the king deceas'd; Her alhes new create another heir,

And all the unsettled humours of the land is great in admiration as herself;

Raih, inconfiderate, fiery voluntaries, So Thall the leave her blessedness to one

With ladies faccs, and fierce dragons spleens (When Heaven Thall call her from this cloud of Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, darkncis)

Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, Who, from the sacred ashes of her honour,

To make a hazard of new fortunes hore. Shall frar-like rise, as gicat in fame as the was,

In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits, And so itand fix'd. Peace, plenty, love, truth, Than now the English bottoins have waft o'er, terror,

Did never Aoat upon the swelling tide, 'That were the servants to this chosen infant,

To do offence and scath in Christendom. Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him;

The interruption of their churlith drums Wherever the bright sun of heaven thall shine, Cuts off more circumstance : they are at hand, His honour and the greatnefs of his name

Corrage. Shall be, and make new nations: He fhall flourish,

By how much unexpected, by lo much And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches We must awake endeavour for defence; Toall the plains about hiin: our children's children For courage mounteth with occasion. Shall see this, and bless Heaven.

A Boaster,

What cracker is this same, that deafs our cars § 26. THE LIFE AND DEATH OF With this abundance of superfluous breath? KING JOHN. SHAKS PEARE.

Defcription of Victory, by the French.

You men of Angiers, open wide your gates, New Titles.

And let young Arthur, duke of Bretagne, in ; "GOOD.den, Sir Richard--God a' mercy, Who, by the hand of France, this day hath made

Much work for tears in many an English mother,
And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter : Whose fons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground:
For new-made honour doth forget inen's names;. Many a widow's husband grovelling bes,
'Tis too respective and too fociable

Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth;
For your conversion. Now your traveller And victory, with little loss, doth play
He and his toothpick at my worship's meis : Upon the dancing banners of the French;
And when my knightly stomach is fuffic'd, Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd,
Why the I fuck iny teeth, and catechisc

To enter conquerors.
My picked man of countries :-"My dear Sir,

By the English. (Tlus, leaning on imine cibow, I begin) Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells,

Inhall befeech you”--that is question now; King John, your king, and England's, doth ap. And then comes answer like an A B C book :

proach, “ O Sir," says answer, " at your best command, Commander of this hot malicious day! “ Ai your employineni, at your service, Sir :"- Their armours, that march'd hence fo lilver bright, " No, Sir," say's question, “], fivect Sir, at your;." Hither return ail gilt with Frenchmen's blood; Ini jo, en ander k7045 what question woull, There fuck no pluine in any English çrett,


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