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WOL. I hope I have: I am able now, methinks,

(Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,)

To endure more miseries, and greater far,
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.

K. HENRY VIII., A. 3, s. 2.

A GREAT MAN'S DEATH AND

EPITAPH.

WELL, the voice

goes,

madam :

After the stout earl Northumberland

Arrested him at York, and brought him forward, (As a man sorely tainted,) to his answer, He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill,

He could not sit his mule.

At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,
Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,
With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him;
To whom he gave these words,-O father abbot,
An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
Give him a little earth for charity!

So went to bed: where eagerly his sickness
Pursu'd him still; and, three nights after this,
About the hour of eight, (which he himself
Foretold, should be his last,) full of repentance,
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
He gave his honours to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
This cardinal,

Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashion'd to much honour from his cradle.
He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one;

Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading: Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as

summer.

And though he were unsatisfied in getting,
(Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely: Ever witness for him
Those twins of learning, that he rais'd in you,
Ipswich, and Oxford! one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little:
And, to add greater honours to his age
Than man could give him, he died, fearing God.

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

ACTIVITY NECESSARY TO MAN'S HAPPINESS.

PRINCES,

What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks?
The ample proposition, that hope makes
In all designs begun on earth below,

Fails in the promis'd largeness: checks and dis

asters

Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd; As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap, Infect the sound pine, and divert his grain Tortive and errant from his course of growth. Nor, princes, is it matter new to us,

That we come short of our suppose so far,
That, after seven years' siege, yet Troy walls
stand;

Sith every action that hath gone before,
Whereof we have record, trial did draw
Bias and thwart, not answering the aim,
And that unbodied figure of the thought
That gave it surmised shape. Why then, you
princes,

Do

you

with cheeks abash'd behold our works, And think them shames, which are, indeed, nought else

But the protractive trials of great Jove,

To find persistive constancy in men?

The fineness of which metal is not found

In fortune's love: for then, the bold and coward,
The wise and fool, the artist and unread,
The hard and soft, seem all affin'd and kin:
But, in the wind and tempest of her frown,
Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan,
Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
And what hath mass, or matter, by itself
Lies, rich in virtue, and unmingled.

TROILUS AND CRESSIDA, A. 1, s. 3.

A DAUGHTER'S LOVE.

I Do love you more than words can wield the matter,

Dearer than eye-sight, space and liberty;

Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare; No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour :

As much as child e'er lov'd, or father found.

A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable;

Beyond all manner of so much I love you.

KING LEAR, a. 1, s. 1.

A GOOD CAUSE FILLS BOTH HEAD AND HEART.

LORDS. How have you slept, my lord? RICHMOND. The sweetest sleep, and fairestboding dreams,

That ever enter'd in a drowsy head,

Have I since your departure had, my lords. Methought, their souls, whose bodies Richard murder'd,

Came to my tent, and cried-On! victory!
I promise you, my heart is very jocund
In the remembrance of so fair a dream.
'Tis time to arm, and give direction.—
More than I have said, loving countrymen,
The leisure and enforcement of the time
Forbids to dwell on: Yet remember this,—
God, and our good cause, fight upon our side,
The prayers of holy saints, and wronged souls,
Like high-reared bulwarks, stand before our
faces;

Richard except, those, whom we fight against,
Had rather have us win, than him they follow.
For what is he they follow ? truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyrant, and a homicide;

One rais'd in blood, and one in blood establish'd; One that made means to come by what he hath, And slaughter'd those that were the means to help him ;

A base, foul stone, made precious by the foil

Of England's chair, where he is falsely set;
One that hath ever been God's enemy:
Then if you fight against God's enemy,
God will, in justice, ward you as his soldiers;
If you do sweat to put a tyrant down,
You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain;
If you do fight against your country's foes,
Your country's fat shall pay your pains the
hire;

If you do fight in safeguard of your wives,
Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors;
If you do free your children from the sword,
Your children's children quit it in your age.
Then, in the name of God, and all these rights,
Advance your standards, draw your willing
swords:
bold attempt

For me, the ransom of my

Shall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face;

But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt

The least of you shall share his part thereof. Sound, drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully;

God, and Saint George! Richmond, and victory!

K. RICHARD III., A. 5, s. 3.

A GOOD MAN RESCUED BY A GREAT ONE FROM HIS ENEMIES.

CROMWELL.

My mind gave me,

In seeking tales, and informations,

Against this man, (whose honesty the devil

And his disciples only envy at,)

Ye blew the fire that burns ye: Now have at ye.

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