And full as oft came Edward to my side,
With purple falchion painted to the hilt
In blood of those that had encounter'd him :
And when the hardiest warriors did retire,
Richard cried, "Charge! and give no foot of
ground!"

And cried, "A crown, or else a glorious tomb!
A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre !"
With this we charg'd again; but out, alas!
We bodg'd again; as I have seen a swan
With bootless labor swim against the tide,
And spend her strength with over-matching

waves.

A Father's Passion on the Murder of a favorite Child.

O tiger's heart, wrapp'd in a woman's hide! How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the To bid the father wipe his eyes withal, [child, And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible; Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless.

That face of his the hungry cannibals Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood;

But you are more inhuman, more inexorable-
O, ten times more, than tigers of Hyrcania.
See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears:
This cloth thou dipp'dst in blood of my sweet
boy,

And I with tears do wash the blood away.
Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this:
And, if thou tell'st the heavy story right,
Upon my soul the hearers will shed tears;
Yea, even my foes will shed fast-falling tears,
And say,
Alas, it was a piteous deed!"

The Duke of York in Battle. Methought, he bore him in the thickest troop, As doth a lion in a herd of neat ;

Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs, Who having pinch'd a few, and made them cry, The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him.

The Blessings of a Shepherd's Life. O God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run: How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live : when this is known, then to divide the times: So many hours must I tend my flock; So many hours must I take my rest; So many hours must I contemplate; So many hours must I sport myself; So many days my ewes have been with young; So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean; I shall sheer the fleece; So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and

So

many

months ere

years,

Pass'd over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how
Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade
lovely!
Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy
To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep,
To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery?
O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth.
And to conclude,-the shepherd's homely curds,
His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle,
His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade,
All which secure and sweetly he enjoys,
Is far beyond a prince's delicates,
His viands sparkling in a golden cup,
His body couched in a curious bed,
When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him.

Mob.

Look, as I blow this feather from my face, And as the air blows it to me again, Obeying with my wind when I do blow, And yielding to another when it blows, Commanded always by the greater gust; Such is the lightness of you common men.

A Simile on ambitious Thoughts.
Why, then, I do but dream on sov'reignty;
Like one that stands upon a promontory,
And spies a far-off shore where he would tread,
Wishing his foot were equal with his eye!
And chides the sea that sunders him from
thence,

Saying-he'll lade it dry to have his way.
Gloucester's Deformity.
Why, love forswore me in my mother's
And, for I should not deal in her soft laws,
womb,
She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe
To make an envious mountain on my back,
To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub;
Where sits deformity to mock my body;
To shape my legs of an unequal size:
To disproportion me in every part,
Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp,
That carries no impression like the dain.
And am I then a man to be belov'd?

Gloucester's Dissimulation.
Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile:
And cry, content, to that which grieves my
heart;

And wet my cheeks with artificial tears;
And frame my face to all occasions :
I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall;
I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk;
I'll play the orator as well as Nestor,
Deceive more slily than Ulysses could,
And, like a Sinon, take another Troy:
I can add colors to the cameleon;
Change shapes with Proteus, for advantages,
And set the murd'rous Machiavel to school.
Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?

Henry VI. on his own Lenity.

I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands, Nor posted off their suits with slow delays; My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds, My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs, My mercy dried their water-flowing tears. I have not been desirous of their wealth, Nor much oppress'd them with great subsidies, Nor forward of revenge, tho' they much err'd. The Earl of Warwick's dying Speech. Ah, who is nigh? Come to me, friend or foe, And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick? Why ask I that? My mangled body shows; My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart That I must yield my body to the earth, [shows And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.

Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge, Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle, Under whose shade the ramping lion slept; Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree, [wind. And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's black veil,

Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun,
To search the secret treasons of the world.
The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with
Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres; [blood,
For who liv'd king, but I could dig his grave?
And who durst smile when Warwick bent his

brow?

Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood!
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
Een now forsake me; and, of all my lands,
Is nothing left me, but my body's length.
Queen Margaret's Speech before the Battle of
Tewkesbury.

Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen, what I

should say,

My tears gainsay; for every word I speak,
Ye see, I drink the water of my eyes. [reign,
Therefore, no more but this: Henry, your sove-
Is prisoner to the foe, his state usurp'd,
His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent;
And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil:
You fight in justice: then, in God's name, lords,
Be valiant, and give signal to the fight.

Omens on the Birth of Richard III.
The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign;
The night-crow cried, a boding luckless tune;

Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down trees;

The raven rook'd her on the chimney's top, And chattering pies in dismal discord sung: Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, And yet brought forth less than a mother's To wit-an indigest, deformed lump, [hope; Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree. [born, Teeth had'st thou in thy head when thou wast To signify-thou cam'st to bite the world: And, if the rest be true which I have heard, Thou cam'st "into the world with thy legs forward."

Action to be carried on with Resolution. -If I am Traduc'd by ignorant tongues, which neither My faculties, nor person, yet will be [know The chronicles of my doing-let me say, 'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake That virtue must go through. We must not Our necessary actions, in the fear [stint Το cope malicious which ever, As rav'nous fishes, do a vessel follow That is new-trimm'd; but benefit no further Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is Not

censurers;

ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up

For our best act.

If we shall stand still,

In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at,
We should take root here where we sit, or sit
State-statues only.
New Customs.

-New customs,

Though they be never so ridiculous,
Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd.
The Duke of Buckingham's Prayer for the King.
-May he live

Longer than I have time to tell his years!
Ever beloved, and loving, may his rule be!
And, when old time shall lead him to his end,
Goodness and he fill up one monument!
Dependants not to be too much trusted by great
Men.

This from a dying man receive as certain : Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels, [friends, Be sure you be not loose: for those you make And give your hearts to, when they once per

ceive

The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
Like water from ye, never found again
But where they mean to sink ye.
A Good Wife.
-A loss of her,
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre:
Of her, that loves him with that excellence
That angels love good nien with; even of her,

That when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
Will bless a king.

The Blessings of a low Station.

-'Tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glist'ring grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.

Queen Catharine's Speech to her Husband.
———Alas, Sir,

In what have I offended you? What cause
Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure,
That thus you should proceed to put me off,
And take your good grace from me? Heaven
witness,

I have been to you a true and humble wife,
At all times to your will conformable:
Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,
Yea, subject to your count'nance; glad or sorry
As I saw it inclin'd. When was the hour,
I ever contradicted your desire,
[friends
Or made it not mine too? Which of your
Have I not strove to love, although I knew
He were mine enemy? What friend of mine,
That had to him deriv'd your anger, did I
Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice,
He was from thence discharg d? Sir, call to mind
That I have been your wife, in this obedience,
Upward of twenty years; and have been bless'd
With many children by you. If, in the course
And process of this time, you can report,
And prove it too, against mine honor aught,
My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty,
Against your sacred person, in God's name
Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
To the sharpest kind of justice.
Queen Catharine's Speech to Cardinal Wolsey.
--You are meck and humble mouth'd;
You sign your place and calling, in full seem-
ing

With meekness and humility: but your heart Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. You have, by fortune, and his highness' famounted, Gone slightly o'er low steps; and now are Where pow'rs are your retainers: and your words,

vors,

Domestics to you, serve your will, as't please
Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you,
You tender more your person's honor, than
Your high profession spiritual.

King Henry's Character of Queen Catharine.
That man i' the world who shall report he has
A better wife, let him in nought be trusted,
For speaking false in that: Thou art, alone,
(If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government,
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
Sovereign and pious else, could but speak thee
The queen of earthly queens.
[out)

On her own Merit.

Have I liv'd thus long (let me speak myself, Since virtue finds no friends) a wife, a true one? A woman (I dare say without vain-glory) Never yet branded with suspicion? Have I with all my full affection

The hearts of princes kiss obedience, So much they love it: but to stubborn spirits They swell and grow as terrible as storms. Horror, its outward Effects.

-Some strange commotion Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts; Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, Then lays his finger on his temple: straight Springs out into fast gait; then stops again, Strikes his breast hard; and anon he casts His eye against the moon: in most strange posWe've seen him set himself. [tures

Firm Allegiance. -Though perils did [and Abound as thick as thought could make 'em, Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty, As doth a rock against the chiding flood, Should the approach of this wild river break, And stand unshaken yours.

Anger, its external Effects.

What sudden anger's this? How have I reap'd He parted frowning from me, as if ruin [it? Leap'd from his eyes: so looks the chafed

lion

[him;

Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd Then makes him nothing.

Falling Greatness. -Nay, then farewell!

[greatness; I have touch'd the highest point of all my And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting. I shall fall, Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.

The Vicissitudes of Life.

So farewell to the little good you bear me. Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: To-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blos

soms,

[him:

And bears his blushing honors thick upon
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost;
And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a ripening, nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd,
Like little wanton boys, that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea of glory;
But far beyond my depth: my high-blown.
pride
[me,
At length broke under me; and now has left
Weary, and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.

Upon this land a thousand, thousand blessings, |
Which time shall bring to ripeness. She shall be
(But few now living can behold that goodness)
A pattern to all princes living with her,
And all that shall succeed: Sheba was never
More covetous of wisdom, and fair virtue,
Than this pure soul shall be. All princely
graces,

That mould up such a mighty piece as this,
With all the virtues that attend the good, [her;
Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall nurse
Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her;
She shall be lov'd and fear'd. Her own shall

bless her;

And talking of the Alps and Apennines,
The Pyrenean, and the river Po),
It draws towards supper in conclusion, so.
But this is worshipful society,
And fits the mounting spirit, like myself:
For he is but a bastard to the time,
That doth not smack of observation,

A Description of England.
That pale, that white-fac'd shore,
Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring
tides,

And coops from other lands her islanders;
Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main,
That water-walled bulwark, still secure
And confident from foreign purposes,
Even till that utmost corner of the west,
Salute thee for her king.

Description of an English Army.
His marches are expedient to this town,
His forces strong, his soldiers confident.
With him along is come the mother queen,
With her, her niece, the lady Blanch of Spain;
An Até, stirring him to blood and strife;
With them, a bastard of the king deceas'd;

terror,

That were the servants to this chosen infant,
Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him;
Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,
His honor and the greatness of his name
Shall be, and make new nations. He shall
flourish,

And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches
To all the plains about him: our children's
Shall see this, and bless Heaven. [children

§ 26. THE LIFE AND DEATH OF KING JOHN. SHAKSPEARE.

New Titles. "GooD-den, Sir Richard-God a' mercy fellow,"

And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter: For new-made honor doth forget men's names; "Tis too respective and too sociable

For your conversion. Now your travellerHe and his tooth-pick at my worship's mess: And when my knightly stomach is suffic'd, Why then I suck my teeth, and catechise My picked man of countries:-My dear Sir, (Thus leaning on mine elbow, I begin) "I shall beseech you"-that is question now; And then comes answer like an A B C book; "O Sir," says answer, "at your best command, "At your employment, at your service, Sir:" "No, Sir," says question, "I, sweet Sir, at yours."

And so, ere answer knows what question would, (Saving in dialogue of compliment;

all the unsettled humors of the landRash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, With ladies' faces, and fierce dragons' spleensHave sold their fortunes at their native homes, Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, To make a hazard of new fortunes here. In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits, Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er, Did never float upon the swelling tide, To do offence and scath in Christendom. The interruption of their churlish drums Cuts off more circumstance; they are at hand. Courage.

By how much unexpected, by so much We must awake endeavour for defence; For courage mounteth with occasion.

A Boaster.

What cracker is this same, that deafs our ears With this abundance of superfluous breath?

Description of Victory, by the French. You men of Angiers, open wide your gates, And let young Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, in; Who, by the hand of France, this day hath made [ther, Much work for tears in many an English moMany a widow's husband grovelling lies, Whose sons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground; Coldly embracing the discolor'd earth; And victory, with little loss, doth play Upon the dancing banners of the French; Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd, To enter conquerors.

By the English.

Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells; King John, your king, and England's, doth approach,

Commander of this hot malicious day! Their armors that march'd hence so silver bright,

Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood; There stuck no plume in any English crest,