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O hard condition ! twin-born with greatness, Subjected to the breath of every fool, Whose sense no more can feel but his own wringing! What infinite heart's ease must king's neglect, That private men enjoy? And what have kings, that privates have not too, Save ceremony, save general ceremony? And what art thou, thou idol ceremony? What kind of God art thou, that suffer'st more Of mortal griefs, than do thy worshippers ? What are thy rents? what are thy comings-in? O, ceremony, show me but thy worth! What is the soul of adoration * ? Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, Creating awe and fear in other men? Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd Than they in fearing. What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poison'd flattery? O, be sick, great greatness, And bid thy ceremony give thee cure! Think'st tbou, the fiery fever will go out With titles blown from adulation?
* “ What is the real worth and intrinsic value of adoration?"
Will it give place to flexure and low bending?
DESCRIPTION OF THE MISERABLE STATE OF THE
Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones,
air shakes them passing scornfully.
* Farced is stuffed. The tumid puffy titles with which a king's name is introduced. + The sun. $ Colours.
Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips;
KING HENRY'S SPEECH BEFORE THE BATTLE OF
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tiptoe when this day is nam'd, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He, that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends, And say-to-morrow is Saint Crispian: Then will be strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, these wounds I had on Crispin’s day. Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot, But he'll remember, with advantages, What feats he did that day: Then shall our names, Familiar in their mouths as household words, Harry the king, Bedford, and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster, Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
DESCRIPTION OF THE DUKE OF YORK'S DEATH. He smil'd me in the face, raughtf me his hand, And, with a feeble gripe, says,-Dear my lord, Commend
service to my sovereign. So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips; And so, espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd A testament of noble-ending love. The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd Those waters from me, which I would have stoppid; But I had not so much of man in me, But all my mother came into mine eyes, And gave me up to tears.
THE MISERIES OF WAR.
Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart, Unpruned dies: ber hedges even-pleached, Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair, Put forth disordered twigs: her fallow leas The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory, Doth root upon; while that the coulter* rusts, That should deracinate t such savagery: The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness; and nothing teems, But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs, Losing both beauty and utility. And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges, Defective in their natures, grow to wildness.
King Henry VI.
GLORY is like a circle in the water,
MARRIAGE is a matter of more worth
For what is wedlock forced, but a hell,
King Henry vi.
A RESOLVED AND AMBITIOUS WOMAN. Follow I must, I cannot go before, While Gloster bears this base and humble mind. Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks, And smooth my way upon their headless necks: And, being a woman, I will not be slack To play my part in fortune's pageant.
АСТ II. .
GOD'S GOODNESS EVER TO BE REMEMBERED, Ler never day nor night onhallow'd pass, But still remember what the Lord hath done.
* By the discretional agency of another.