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Sits in grim majesty, to fright the world.
Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding:-
Yet do not go away;-Come, basilisk,
And kill the innocent gazer with the sight:
For in the shade of death I shall find joy;
In life, but double death, now Gloster's dead.

K. HENRY VI., PART II., A. 3, s. 2.



WILL, when you are humble; nay, before,
Or God will punish me. I do believe,

Induc'd by potent circumstances, that
You are mine enemy; and make my challenge,
You shall not be my judge: for it is you
Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me,-
Which God's dew quench!-Therefore, I say

I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul,

Refuse you for my judge: whom, yet once more,
I hold my most malicious foe, and think not
At all a friend to truth.

My lord, my lord,
I am a simple woman, much too weak
To oppose your cunning. You are meek, and

You sign your place and calling, in full seeming
With meekness and humility: but your heart
Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.
You have, by fortune, and his highness' favours,
Gone slightly o'er low steps; and now are

Where powers are your retainers: and your words,

Domesticks to you, serve your will, as't please Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell


You tender more your person's honour, than
Your high profession spiritual: That again
I do refuse you for my judge; and here,
Before you all, appeal unto the pope,
To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness,
And to be judg'd by him,

K. HENRY VIII., A. 2, s. 4.


SIR, I most humbly pray you to deliver
This to my lord the king.

In which I have commended to his goodness
The model of our chaste loves, his young
daughter :-

The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!

Beseeching him, to give her virtuous breeding; (She is young, and of a noble modest nature; I hope, she will deserve well;) and a little

To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd him, Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition

Is, that his noble grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long
Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully:
Of which there is not one, I dare avow,
(And now I should not lie,) but will deserve,
For virtue, and true beauty of the soul,
For honesty, and decent carriage,

A right good husband, let him be a noble;

And, sure, those men are happy that shall have them.

The last is, for my men ;-they are the poorest, But poverty could never draw them from me ;That they may have their wages duly paid them, And something over to remember me by;

If heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life,

And able means, we had not parted thus.

These are the whole contents:-And, good my lord,


By that you love the dearest in this world, you wish christian peace to souls departed, Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king

To do me this last right.

Remember me

In all humility unto his highness:

Say, his long trouble now is passing

Out of this world: tell him, in death I bless'd him,

For so I will.-Mine eyes grow dim.-Farewell, My lord.-Griffith, farewell.-Nay, Patience, You must not leave me yet.-I must to bed; Call in more women.-When I am dead, good wench,

Let me be us'd with honour; strew me over With maiden flowers, that all the world may know

I was a chaste wife to my grave: embalm me, Then lay me forth; although unqueen'd, yet


A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
I can no more.

K. HENRY VIII., A. 4, s. 2.


O HORROR! horror! horror! Tongue, nor heart,
Cannot conceive, nor name thee!

Confusion now hath made his master-piece!
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o'the building.

Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
With a new Gorgon :-Do not bid me speak;
See, and then speak yourselves. - Awake!

Ring the alarum-bell:-Murder! and treason!
Banquo, and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself!-up, up,
and see
The great doom's image.— Malcolm! Banquo!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like

To countenance this horror!

MACBETH, A. 2, s. 3.


ANTONY. Strike the vessels, ho!

Here is to Cæsar.


I could well forbear it.

It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain, And it grows fouler.


Be a child o'the time.
CES. Possess it, I'll make answer: but I

had rather fast

From all four days, than drink so much in one. What would you more ?-Pompey, good night. Good brother,

Let me request you off: our graver business

Frowns at this levity.-Gentle lords, let's part; You see, we have burnt our cheeks: strong Enobarbe

Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue Splits what it speaks: the wild disguise hath almost

Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good





O MIGHTY Caesar! Dost thou lie so low?
Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,
Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well.-
I know not, gentlemen, what you intend,
Who else must be let blood, who else is rank:
If I myself, there is no hour so fit

As Caesar's death's hour; nor no instrument
Of half that worth, as those your swords, made

With the most noble blood of all this world.
I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard,

Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke,

Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years,
I shall not find myself so apt to die:

No place will please me so, no mean of death,
As here by Caesar, and by you cut off,

The choice and master spirits of this age.

JULIUS CAESAR, a. 3, s. 1.

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