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That trembles under his devouring paws; 1 The Blessings of a Shepherd's Life. And so he walks insulting o'er his prey; T 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 ofl.
c. To sit upon a hill, as I do now, his Sons.
To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,
Thereby to see the minutes how they run : My sons-God knows what hath bechanced
How many make the hour full complete,
selves them : But this I know they have demean'd them
How many hours bring about the day, Like men born to renown, by life, or death.
How many days will finish up the year,
How many years a mortal man may live : Three times did Richard make a lane to me,
| When this is known, then to divide the times: And thrice cried, “ Courage, father! fight it
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 anyself ;
So many days my ewes have been with young; And when the hardiest warriors did retire,
So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean; Richard cried, “ Charge ! and give no foot of
So many months ere I shall sheer the fleece; 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, With this we charg'd again; but out, alas!
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. We body'd again; as I have seen a swan
Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how With bootless labor swim against the tide, And spend her strength with over-matching |
ning | Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade waves.
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? 1 O tiger's heart, wrapp'd in a woman's hide ! (, 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, And 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 swcetly he enjoys, Thou stern, obdurate, Ainty, 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. O, ten 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, Upon my soul the hearers will shed tears;
A Simile on ambitious Thoughts.
| Why, then, I do but dream on sov'reignty; Yea, even my foes will shed fast-falling lears,
| 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 pinchd a few, and made them cry, The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him.
Why, love forswore me in my mother's The Morning.
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,
To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub; Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love! | To make an envious mountain on my back, 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 mie 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 dam. Can ncither call it perfect duy nor night. And am I then a man to be belor'd?
Gloucester's Dissimulation. | Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile: trees; And cry, content, to that which grieves 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 stay 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 signify-thou cam'st to bite the world : And, like a Sinon, take another Troy: And, if the rest be true which I have heard, I can 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,
If I am 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 My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart
Our necessary actions, in the fear (stint That I must yield my body to the earth, sshows To cope malicious censurers; which ever, And, by my fall, the conquest to my soe.
As rar'nous fishes, do a vessel follow Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
1 That is new-trimm'd; but benefit no further Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle, I 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'd Jove's spreading
Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft
'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 eves, 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 filled with
customs, Were likend oft to kingly sepulchres; fblood. I 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 who durst smile when Warwick bent his | The Duke of Buckingham's Prayer for the King. brow?
May he live Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood! I Longer than I have time to tell his years! My parks, my walks, my inanors that I had, Ever beloved, and loving, may his rule be! Een 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 he fill up one monument!
Dependants not to be too much trusted by great Queen Margaret's Speech before the Battle of |
This from a dying man receive as certain : Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen, what I | Where you are liberal of your loves and coun. should say, '
[friends, My tears gainsay; for every word I speak,
Be sure you be not loose : for those you make Ye see. I drink the water of my eyes. [reign, | And give your hearts to, when they once perTherefore, no more but this: Henry, your sove
ceive Is prisoner to the foc, his state usurp'd,
| The least rub in your fortunes, fall away His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain, | Like water from ye, never found again His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent;
But where they mean to sink ye. And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil:
A Good Wife. You fight in justice: then, in God's name, lords,
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 tune; That angels love good nien with ; even of her,
That when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, | Still met the king? lov'd himn 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 a constant woman to her husband, And wear a golden sorrow.
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond bis 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, Prish'd. And take your good grace from me? Heaven | That once was mistress of the field, and flou. witness,
| 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: but 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, L 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 thencedischarg'd ? Sir, call to mind | His eye against the moon: in most strange posThat I have been your wife, in this obedience, J We've seen him set himself. Upward of twenty years; and have been bless'd
_Firm Allegiance. With many children by you. If, in the course
Though perils did
[and And process of this time, you can report,
| 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 my 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
Anger, its external Effects. To the sharpest kind of justice.
What sudden anger's this? How have I reap'd Queen Catharine's Speech to Cardinal Wolsey. He parted frowning from me, as if ruin [it?
--You are meek 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 gall’d 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 Gone 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 blos. A 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 ventur'd, 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? pride
[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 Virtues.
So may be 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 In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
| 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 ;
His own opinion was his law: l' the presence well; 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, (thee;
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful : tion Of me must more be heard, say then, I taught His promises were, as he then was, mighty! Say, Wolsey, that once rode the waves of glory,
| But his performance, as he now is, nothing. And sounded all the depths and shoals of ho
Of his own body he was ill, and gave
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 iny fall, and that which ruin'd nie.
We write in water. .......... Cromwell, I charge thee, Aling 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 thee;
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; 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; To silence envious tongues. Bejust,and fear not:
But, to those men that sought him, sweet as Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's, summer. Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'sc,: 0
And though he were unsatisfied in getting Cromwell,
(Which was a sin), yet in bestowing, madam, Thou fallist a blessed martyr. Serve the king;
He was most princely; ever witness for him, And prythee, lead me in :
Those twins of learning that he rais'd in you, There take an inventory of all I have,
Ipswich and Oxford ! one of which fell with To the last penny: 'tis the king's : My robe,
him, 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,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
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 iill then, he feli himself,
And found the blessedness of being little.
| And, to add greater honors to his age As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, Than man could give him, he died fearing God. As loud, and to as many tunes : Hats, cloaks,
Malicious Men. (Doublets, I think) flew up; and had their
Men that make
Ljoy | Envy and crooked malice nourishment,
- Love and meekness, Lord,
'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 white-fac'd shore, With all the virtues that attend the good, [her; | Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall nurse Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her;
And coops from other lands her islanders ; She shall be lov's and fear'd. Her own shall Eventil:
Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main, bless her;
That water-walled bulwark, still secure Her foes shake like a field of beaten 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 deceas d; The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phanix,
And all the unsettled humors of the landHer ashes rew create another heir,
Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, As great in admiration as herself;
With ladies' faces, and fierce dragons' spleensSo 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,
To do offence and scath in Christendom. terror, 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 on more circumst
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 fellow,"
[ther, And if his name be George, I 'll call him Peter:
Much work for tears in many an English moFor new-made honor doth forget men's names;
Whose sons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground;
| Many a widow's husband grovelling lies, "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 Frenchnen's blood; (Saving in dialogue of compliinent; | There stuck no plume in any English crest,