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And, on the winking of authority, And yet not so, - for what can we beTo understand a law; to know the queath, meaning

Save our deposed bodies to the ground ? Of dangerous majesty, when, perchance, Our lands, our lives, and all are Boling. it frowns

broke's, More upon humor than advised respect. And nothing can we call our own but


And that small model of the barren How oft the sight of means to do ill

earth deeds, Makes deeds ill done! Hadst not thou

Which serves as paste and cover to our been by,

bones. A fellow by the hand of nature marked,

For heaven's sake let us sit upon the Quoted, and sign'd, to do a deed of

ground, shame,

And tell sad stories of the death of This murder had not come into my

kings :

How some have been deposed, some mind.

slain in war : But taking note of thy abhorrd as

Some haunted by the ghosts they have pect, Finding thee fit for bloody villany,

deposed : Apt, liable, to be employ'd in danger,

Some poison'd by their wives; some I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's

sleeping kill'd; death;

All murder'd : - for within the hollow

crown And thou, to be endeared to a king, Made it no conscience to destroy a

That rounds the mortal temples of a prince.

king Keeps Death his court: and there the

antic sits, Hadst thou but shook thy head, or

Scoffing his state, and grinning at his

pomp; When I spake darkly what I purposed; Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my

Allowing him a breath, a little scene,

To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with face,

looks; As bid me tell my tale in express Infusing him with self and vain con words;

ceit, Deep shame had struck me dumb,

As if this flesh, which walls about our made me break off,

life, And those thy fears might have wrought Were brass impregnable; and humor'd fears in me.

thus, Comes at the last, and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall, and —

farewell king! THE TRAGICAL FATE OF KINGS. Cover your heads, and mock not flesh

and blood [From King Richard II.]

With solemn reverence; throw away OF comfort no man speak :

respect, Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epi- Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty, taphs;

For you have but mistook me all this Make dust our paper, and with rainy

while : eyes

I live with bread like you, feel want, Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth. taste grief, Let's choose executors, and talk of Need friends : subjected thus, wills;

How can you say to me I am a king?

made a pause,



[From King Henry IV.] God forgive them, that have so much FARE thee well, great heart ! sway'd

Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou Your majesty's good thoughts away from

shrunk ! me !

When that this body did contain a spirit, I will redeem all this on Percy's head, A kingdom for it was too small a bound: And, in the closing of some glorious day, But now, two paces of the vilest earth Be bold to tell you that I am your son;

Is room enough :— this earth, that bears When I will wear a garment all of blood,

thee dead, And stain my favors in a bloody mask,

Bears not alive so stout a gentleman. Watch, wash'd away, shall scour my

If thou wert sensible of courtesy, shame with it.

I should not make so dear a show of And that shall be the day, whene'er it

zeal: lights,

But let my favors hide thy mangled face; That this same child of honor and re- And, even in thy behalf, I'll thank myself nown,

For doing these fair rites of tenderness. This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to knight,

heaven: And your unthought-of Harry chance Thy ignomy sleep with thee in thy to meet :

grave, For every honor sitting on his helm, But not remember'd in thy epitaph ! Would they were multitudes; and on My shames redoubled! for the time will

HENRY'S SOLILOQUY ON SLEEP. come That I shall make this northern youth

[From King Henry IV.] exchange

How many thousand of my poorest subHis glorious deeds for my indignities. jects Percy is but my factor, good my lord, Are at this hour asleep! - sleep, O To engross up glorious deeds on my be- gentle sleep, half;

Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted And I will call him to so strict account, thee, That he shall render every glory up,

That thou no more wilt weigh my eyeYea, even the slightest worship of his lids down, time,

And steep my senses in forgetfulness? Or I will tear the reckoning from his Why rather, Sleep, liest thou in smoky heart.

cribs, This, in the name of God, I promise Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, here:

And hush'd with buzzing night-fies to The which, if He be pleas'd I shall per- thy slumber; form,

Than in the perfumed chambers of the I do beseech your majesty may salve

great, The long-grown wounds of my intem- Under the canopies of costly state, perance:

And lull'd with sounds of sweetest mel If not, the end of life cancels all bands; ody? And I will die a hundred thousand O thou dull god! why liest thou with deaths,

the vile, Ere break the smallest parcel of this In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly


my head

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A watch-case, or a common 'larum bell? Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast, Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his

brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge. And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hang

ing them With deafʼning clamors in the slippery

clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself

awakes? Canst thou, O partial Sleep, give thy re

pose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude; And, in the calmest and most stillest

night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king? — Then, happy low,

lie down! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

This story shall the good man teach his

son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the

world, But we in it shall be remembered, We few, we happy few, we band of

brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with

me, Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so

vile, This day shall gentle his condition: And gentlemen in England, now a-bed, Shall think themselves accurs'd, they

were not here; And hold their manhoods cheap, whiles

any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Cris

pin's day.

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and years,

When this is known, then to divide the To search the secret treasons of the times :

world : So many hours must I tend my flock; The wrinkles in my brows, now fillid So many hours must I take my rest;

with blood, So many hours must I contemplate; Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres : So many hours must I sport myself; For who liv'd king, but I could dig his

grave? So many years ere I shall shear the And who durst smile when Warwick fleece;

bent his brow? So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and

blood! Pass'd over to the end they were created, My parks, my walks, my manors that I Would bring white hairs unto a quiet had, grave.

Even now forsake me; and of all my Ah, what a life were this ! how sweet! lands, how lovely!

Is nothing left me, but my body's length!
Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but

earth and dust?

And, live we how we can, yet die we RICHARD DUKE OF GLOSTER'S must. DESCRIPTION OF HIMSELF. [From King Henry VI.]

THE DUKE OF GLOSTER ON WHY, I can smile, and murder while I


[From King Richard III.] And cry, content, to that which grieves

Now is the winter of our discontent And wet my cheeks with artificial tears,

Made glorious summer by this sun of And frame my face to all occasions;

York; I'll drown more sailors than the mer

And all the clouds that lour'd upon our maid shall;

house, I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk;

In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. I'll play the orator as well as Nestor;

Now are our brows bound with victori. Deceive more slily than Ulysses could,

ous wreaths; And, like a Sinon, take another Troy:

Our bruised arms hung up for monuI can add colors to the chameleon;

ments; Change shapes with Proteus for advan

Our stern alarums, chang'd to merry tages,

meetings, And set the murd'rous Machiavel to

Our dreadful marches to delightful measschool. Can I do this and cannot get a crown?

Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his

wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed


To fright the souls of fearful adversa. THE KING MAKER.


He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber, [From King Henry VI.]

To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. THESE eyes, that now are dimm’d with But I, that am not shaped for sportive death's black veil,

tricks, Have been as piercing as the mid-day Nor made to court an amorous looking. sun,


my heart;


hate ye;

made up,


I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want But far beyond my depth; my highlove's majesty,

blown pride To strut before a wanton ambling At length broke under me; and now nymph;

has left me, I, that am curtail'd of this fair propor- Weary, and old with service, to the tion,

mercy Cheated of feature by dissembling na- Of a rude stream, that must forever ture,

hide me. Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my Vain pomp and glory of this world, I

time Into this breathing world, scarce half I feel my heart new open'd: 0, how

wretched And that so lamely and unfashionable, Is that poor man that hangs on princes' That dogs bark at me, as I halt by favors! them;

There is, betwixt that smile we would Why I, in this weak piping time of aspire to, peace,

That sweet aspect of princes, and their Have no delight to pass away the time; ruin, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun, More pangs and fears, than wars And descant on mine own deformity; women have; And therefore, since I cannot prove And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, a lover,

Never to hope again. To entertain these fair well spoken

days, I am determined to prove a villain, And hate the idle pleasures of these WOLSEY TO CROMWELL. days.

[From King Henry VIII.]

Thus far hear me, Cromwell; CARDINAL WOLSEY ON THE

And — when I am forgotten, as I shai VICISSITUDES OF LIFE.


And sleep in dull cold marble, where [From King Henry VIII.]

no mention FAREWELL, a long farewell, to all my Of me more must be heard of — say, " greatness,

taught thee, This is the state of man; to-day he puts | Say, Wolsey,

that once trod the wayo forth

of glory, The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow And sounded all the depths and shoais blossoms,

of honor, And bears his blushing honors thick Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to upon him;

rise in; The third day comes a frost, a killing A sure and safe one, though thy master frost;

missed it. And, when he thinks, good easy man, Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me. full surely

Cromwell, Í charge thee, fling away His greatness is a ripening, - nips his ambition : root,

By that sin fell the angels; how can And then he falls, as I do. I have ven

man, then, tured,

The image of his Maker, hope to va Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,

Love thyself last: cherish those hearts This many summers in a sea of glory; that hate thee;

by it?

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