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That trembles under his devouring paws;
The Blessings of a Shepherd's Life. And so he walks insulting o'er his prey ;
O God!.methinks it were a happy life, And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder. To be no better than a homely swain ; The Duke of York on the gallant behaviour of To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,
To sit upon a hill, as I do now, his Sons. My sons-God knows what hath bechanced Thereby to see the minutes how they run :
selves them :
make the hour full complete, But this I know—they have demean'd them- How many days will finish up the year,
hours bring about the day, Like inen born to renown, by life, or death. Three times did Richard make a lane to me,
How many years a mortal man may live : And thrice cried, “ Courage, father! fight' it When this is known, then to divide the times :
many hours must I tend my flock ; And full as oft came Edward to my side,
So many hours must I take my rest;
hours must I contemplate ; With purple falchion painted to the hilt
So In blood of those that had encounter'd him :
hours must I sport myself ;
many And when the hardiest warriors did retire,
So many days my ewes have been with young;
many Richard cried, Charge! and give no foot of So many months ere I shall sheer the fleece ;
fools will yean;
poor ground !" And cried, “ A crown, or else a glorious tomb! So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and
years, A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre !"
Pass'd over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. With bootless labor swim against the tide,
Ah, what a life were this! how sweet ! how And spend her strength with over-matching Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade
To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, A Father's Passion on the Murder of a favorite Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy Child.
To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery? O tiger's heart, wrapp'd in a woman's hide! O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth. How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the And to conclude,—theshepherd's homely curds, To bid the father wipe his eyes withal, (child, His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, Aud yet be seen to bear a woman's face?
His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible ; All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. Is far beyond a prince's delicates,
His viands sparkling in a golden cup, That face of his the hungry cannibals His body couched in a curious bed, Would not have touch'd, would not have When care, inistrust, and treason wait on him.
stain'd with blood; But you are more inhuman, more inexorable
Mob. 0, len times more, than tigers of Hyrcania.
Look, as I blow this feather from my face, See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears:
And as the air blows it to me again, This cloth thou dipp’dst in blood of my sweet Obeying with my wind when I do blow, boy,
And yielding to another when it blows, And I with tears do wash the blood away.
Cominanded always by the greater gust; Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this: Such is the lightness of you common men. And, if thou tell'st the heavy story right,
A Simile on ambitious Thoughts.
Why, then, I do but dream on sov'reignty;
Like one that stands upon a promontory, And say, " Alas, it was a piteous deed !"
And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, The Duke of York in Battle.
Wishing his foot were equal with his eye! Methought, he bore him in the thickest troop, And chides the sea that sunders him from As doth a lion in a herd of neat;
thence, Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs, Saying-he'll lade it dry to have his way. Who having pinch'd a few, and made them
cry, The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him.
Why, love forswore me in my mother's
womb, See how the morning opes her golden gates, and, for I should not deal in her soft laws, And takes her farewell of the glorious sun !
She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe How well resembles it the prime of youth, Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love! To make an envious mountain on my back,
To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub; The Morning's Dawn.
Where sits deformity to mock my body; The battle fares like to the morning's war, To shape my legs of an unequal size : When dying clouds contend with growing To disproportion me in every part, light;
Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp, What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, That carries no impression like the dain. Can neither call it perfect day nor night. And am I then a man to be belov'di
-If I am
Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile: trees; And cry, content, to that which grieres my The raven rook'd her on the chimney's top, heart;
And chattering pies in dismal discord sung : And wet my cheeks with artificial tears ; Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, And frame my face to all occasions :
And yet brought forth less than a mother's I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; To wit-an indigest, deformed lump, (hope; I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk ; Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree. (born, I'll play the orator as well as Nestor,
Teeth had'st thou in thy head when thou wast Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, To signifymthou cam'st to bite the world : And, like a Sinon, take another Troy: And, if the rest be true which I have heard, I cau add colors to the cameleon ;
Thou cam’st “ into the world with thy legs Change shapes with Proteus, for advantages,
forward." And set the murd'rous Machiavel to school. Can I do this, and cannot get a crown? $ 25. THE LIFE OF HENRY VIII. Henry VI. on his own Lenity:
SHAKSPEARE. I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands,
Anger. Nor posted off their suits with slow delays;
-To climb steep hills, My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds, Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs, A full-hot horse; who, being allow'd his way, My mercy dried their water-flowing tears. Self-mettle tires him. I have not been desirous of their wealth,
Action to be carried on with Resolution. Nor much oppress'd them with great subsidies, Nor forward of revenge, tho' they much err’d. Traduc'd by ignorant tongues, which neither The Earl of Warwick's dying Speech.
My faculties, nor person, yet will be [know Ah, who is nigh? Come to me, friend or foe, The chronicles of my doing let me say, And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick?' Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake Why ask I that? My mangled body shows;
That virtue must go through. We must not Mly blood, my want of strength, my sick heart Our necessary actions, in the fear (stint That I must yield my body to the earth, (shows To cope malicious censurers; which ever, And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.
As rar'nous fishes, do a vessel follow Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
That is new-trimm'd; but benefit no further Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagie, Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, Under whose shade the ramping lion slept; By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is Whose top-branch overpeer'a Jove's spreading Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft tree,
[wind. Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful For our best act. 'If we shall stand still, These eyes, that now are dimm’d with death's In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at, black veil,
We should take root here where we sit, or sit Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun,
State-statues only: To search the secret treasons of the world.
New Customs. The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with
-New customs, Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres; (blood, Though they be never so ridiculous, For who liv'd king, but I could dig his grave? Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd. And tho durst smile when Warwick bent his The Duke of Buckingham's Prayer for the King. brow?
-May he live Lo, now my glory smeard in dust and blood ! Longer than I have time to tell his years! My parks, my walks, my manors that I had, Ever beloved, and loving, may his rule be! E'en now forsake me; and, of all my lands,
And, when old time shall lead him to his end, Is nothing left me, but my body's length.
Goodness and hc fill up one monument! Queen Margaret's Speech before the Battle of
Dependants not to be too much trusted by great
Men. Terokesbury Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen, what I where you are liberal of your loves and coun
This from a dying man receive as certain : sels,
[friends, My tears gainsay; for every word I speak, Ye see, 1 drink the water of my eyes. [reign, And give your hearts to, when they once per
Be sure you be not loose : for those you make Therefore, no more but this: Henry, your sove
A Good Wife.
-A loss of her, Be valiant, and give signal to the fight. That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
Omens on the Birth of Richard III. About his neck, yet never lost her lustre: The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign; Of her, that loves him with that excellence The night-crow cried, a boding luckless lune; That angels love good nien with ; even of her,
That when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, Still met the king? lov'd him next Heaven? Will bless a king.
obey'd him? The Blessings of a low Station. Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? 'Tis better to be lowly born,
Almost forgot my prayers to content him? And range with humble livers in content,
And am I thus rewarded ? Tis not well, lords. Than to be perk'd up in a glist'ring grief,
Bring me constant woman to her husband, And wear a golden sorrow.
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his plea
sure; Queen Catharine's Speech to her Husband.
And to that woman, when she has done most, --Alas, Sir,
Yet I will add an honor-a great patience. In what have I offended you? What cause Hath ny behaviour given to your displeasure,
Queen Catharine compared to a Lily. That thus you should proceed to put me off,
Like the lily, (rishid, And take your good grace from me: Heaven That once was mistress of the field, and flouwitness,
I'll hang my head, and perish. I have been to you a true and humble wife,
Obedience to Princes. At all times to your will conformable:
The hearts of princes kiss obedience, Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,
So much they love it: büt to stubborn spirits Yea, subject to your count'nance; glad or sorry They swell and grow as terrible as storms. As I saw it inclin'd. When was the hour,
Horror, its outward Effects. I ever contradicted your desire, [friends
Some strange commotion Or made it not mine too? Which of your Is in his brain : he bites his lip, and starts; Have I not strove to love, although I knew Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, He were mine enemy? What friend of mine, Then lays his finger on his temple : straight That had to him deriv'd your anger, did I Springs out into fast gait; then stops again, Continue in my liking? 'nay, gave notice, Strikes his breast hard; and anon he casts He was from thence dischargd ? Sir, call to mind His eye against the moon: in most strange posThat I have been your wife, in this obedience, We've seen him set himself.
stures Upward of twenty years ; and have been bless'd
-Though perils did
Abound as thick as thought could make 'em, And prove it too, against mine honor aught,
Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty, My bond to wedlock, or ny love and duty,
As doth a rock against the chiding flood, Against your sacred person, in God's name
Should the approach of this wild river break, Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt And stand unshaken yours. Shut door upon me, and so give me up To the sharpest kind of justice.
Anger, its external Effects.
What sudden anger's this? How have I reapd Queen Catharine's Speech to Cardinal Wolsey. He parted frowning from me, as if ruin -You are meck and humble mouth'd ;
Leap'd from his eyes: so looks the chafed You sign your place and calling, in full seem
Upon the daring huntsman that has galld With meekness and humility: but your heart Then makes him nothing. Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.
Falling Greatness. You have, by fortune, and his highness' fa
Nay, then farewell ! [greatness ; vors,
(mounted, I have touch'd the highest point of all my Goue slightly o'er low steps; and now are And, from that full meridian of my glory, Where pow'rs are your retainers: and your I haste now to my setting. I shall fall, words,
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
The Vicissitudes of Life.
Farewell, a long farewell,
to all my greatness ! King Henry's Character of Queen Catharine. This is the state of man: To-day he puts forth
That man i' the world who shall report he has The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blosA better wife, let him in nought be trusted,
[him : For speaking false in that: Thou art, alone, And bears his blushing honors thick upon (If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, The third day comes a frost, a killing frost; Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, and when he thinks, good easy man, full surely Obeying in commanding, and thy parts His greatness is a ripening, nips his root, Sovereign and pious else, could but speak thee And then he falls, as I do. I have venturd, The queen of earthly queens.
(out) Like little wanton boys, that swim on bladders, On her own Merit.
This many summers in a sea of glory, Have I liv'd thus long (let me speak myself, But far beyond my depth: iny high-blown Since virtue finds no friends) a wife, a true one?
[me, A woman (I dare say without vain-glory) At length broke under me; and now has left Never yet branded with suspicion?
Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Have I with all my full affection
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye! Pursued him still; and three nights after this,
His Vices and Virlues.
So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him! Cardinal Wolsey's Speech to Cromwell.
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him, Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
And yet with charity-he was a man
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
Himself with princes : one, that by suggestion Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Crom- Tied all the kingdom : simony was fair play; well;
His own opinion was his law: l' the presence And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
He would say untruths; and be ever double, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no men
Both in his words and meaning: He was never, tion
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful : Of me must more be heard, say then, I taught But his performance, as he now is, nothing.
His promises were, as he then was, mighty! Say, Wolsey, that
once rode the waves of glory of his own body he was ill, and gave And sounded all the depths and shoals of ho
The clergy ill example. nor, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in;
Griff Noble Madam, A sure and safe one, tho’ thy master miss'd it.
Men's evil manners live in brass ; their virtues Mark but my fall, and that which ruin'd nie. We write in water. Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition;
. This cardinal, By that sin fell the
angels; how can man then, Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly (th' image of his Maker) hope to win by't?
Was fashion'd to much honor. From his Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ;
cradle thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
Lofty and sour to them that lov'd him not; Tosilence envious tongues. Bejust,and
fear not: But, to those men that sought him, sweet as Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be shy country's | And though he were unsatisfied in getting Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall's, 0 Cromwell,
(Which was a sin), yet in bestowing, madam, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king; Those twins of learning
that he rais'd in you,
He was most princely; ever witness for him, And prythee, lead me in :There take an inventory of all I have,
Ipswich and Oxford ! one of which fell with
him, To the last penny: 'tis the king's : My robe, And my integrity to Heaven, is all [well,
Unwilling to out-live the good he did it: I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Crom- | The
other, though unfinish d, yet so famous, Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal
So excellent in art, and still so rising, I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. Have left me naked to mine enemies !
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he feli himself,
And found the blessedness of being little.
And, to add greater honors to his age
Malicious Men. (Doublets, I think) few up; and had their
-Men that make faces
[joy Envy and crooked malice nourishment, Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such Dare bite the best. I never saw before. Great-bellied women,
A Church-Man. That had not half a week to go, like rams
-Love and meekness, Lord, In the old time of war, would shake the press, Become a churchman better than ambition, And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living Win straying souls with modesty again, Could say, “ this is my wife," there; all were Cast none away. So strangely in one piece.
-'Tis a cruelty,
Let me speak, Sir,
(her!) Give him a little earth for charity!"
This royal infant (Heaven still move about So went to bed : where eagerly his sickness Though in a cradle, yet now promises
Upon this land a thousand, thousand blessings, | And talking of the Alps and Apennines,
A Description of England.
That pale, that wbite-fac'd shore, Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall nurse
tides, Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her; She shall be lov's and fear'd. Her own shall Even tillthat England, hedg'd in with the main,
And coops from other lands her islanders; bless her;
That water-walled bulwark, still secure Her foes shake like a field of heaten corn, And confident from foreign purposes, And hang their heads with sorrow. Good
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, God shall be truly known: and those about her His forces strong, his soldiers confident. From her shall read the perfect ways of honor, With him along is come the mother queen, And by those claim their greatness, not by An Até, stirring him to blood and strife; blood.
With her, her niece, the lady Blanch of Spain; Norshall this peace sleep with her; but, as when With them, a bastard of the king deceasd ; The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phænis, And all the unsettled humors of the landHer ashes rew create another heir,
Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries,
With ladies' faces, and fierce dragons' spleensAs great in admiration as herself ; So shall she leave her blessedness to one
Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, (When Heaven shall call her from this cloud Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, of darkness)
To make a hazard of new fortunes here. Who, from the sacred ashes of her honor,
In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits, Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was,
Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er, And so stand fix'd: Peace, plenty, love, truth, Did never float upon the swelling tide, terror,
To do offence and scath in Christendom. That were the servants to this chosen infant, The interruption of their churlish drums Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him; Cuts off more circumstance; they are at hand. Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,
Courage. His honor and the greatness of his name By how much unexpected, by so much Shall be, and make new nations. He shall We must awake endeavour for defence; flourish,
For courage mounteth with occasion. And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches
A Boaster. To all the plains about him : our children's
What cracker is this same, that deafs our ears Shall see this, and bless Heaven. (children with this abundance of superfluous breath? $26. THE LIFE AND DEATH OF Description of Victory, by the French. KING JOHN.
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
(ther, And if his name be George, I 'll call him Peter: Much work for tears in many an English moFor new-inade honor doth forget men's names; Many a widow's husband grovelling lies,
Whose sons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground; 'Tis too respective and too sociable For your conversion. Now your traveller
Coldly embracing the discolor'd earth; He and his tooth-pick at my worship's mess :
and victory, with little loss, doth play And when my knightly stomach is suffic'd,
Upon the dancing banners of the French; Why then I suck my teeth, and catechise
Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd, My picked man of countries :-My dear Sir,
To enter conquerors. (Thus leaning on mine elbow, I begin)
By the English. ** I shall beseech you"-that is question now; Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells; And then comes answer like an A B C book; | King John, your king, and England's, doth “O Sir," says answer, "at your best command, approach, * At your employment, at your service, Sir:" Commander of this hot malicious day! “ No, Sir," says question, “ I, sweet Sir, at Their armors that march'd hence so silver yours."
bright, And so, cre answer knows what question would, Hither return allgilt with Frenchinen's blood; (Saving in dialogue of compliinent;
There stuck no plume in any English crest,