Kent. Kent, in the commentaries Cæsar writ, Lord Say's Apology for himself. Justice with favour have I always done; Kent to maintain, the king, the realm, and you? ·000 KING HENRY VI.-PART III. The Third Part of King Henry the Sixth continues the history of that monarch and Queen Margaret from the battle of St. Albans. It records the battles of Wakefield, Towton, Barnet, and Tewksbury, and concludes with the murder of King Henry the Sixth in the Tower by the Duke of Glo'ster, afterwards Richard the Third, and the occupation of the throne by Edward the Fourth. ACT I. The Transports of a Crown. Do but think, How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown ; Within whose circuit is Elysium, And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. A Hungry Lion described. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch That trembles under his devouring paws : And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey: And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder. The Duke of York on the gallant Behaviour of his My sons-God knows what hath bechanced them: Richard cried-❝ Charge! and give no foot of ground!" And cried-" A crown, or else a glorious tomb! A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!" With this, we charged again: but, out, alas ! We bodg'd* again; as I have seen a swan A Father's Passion on the Murder of a Favourite Child. * That is, we boggled, made bad or bungling work of our attempt to rally. And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood: But you are more inhuman, more inexorable, O, ten times more,—than tigers of Hyrcania. ACT II. The Duke of York in Battle. Methought he bore him* in the thickest troop, Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs; Morning. See how the morning opes her golden gates, And takes her farewell of the glorious sun! How well resembles it the prime of youth, Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love! * Demeaned himself. + Cattle, cows, oxen, etc. Aurora takes for a time her farewell of the sun, when she dismisses him to his diurnal course. The Morning's Dawn. This battle fares like to the morning's war, When dying clouds contend with growing light; What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, Can neither call it perfect day nor night. The Blessings of a Shepherd's Life. O, God! methinks it were a happy life, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, So many hours must I take my rest; So So many hours must I sport myself; * So many years ere I shall shear the fleece; Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely! His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, When care, mistrust, and treason, wait on him. ACT III. Fickleness of the Populace. my Look, as I blow this feather from A Simile on ambitious Thoughts. Why, then I do but dream on sovereignty; Like one that stands upon a promontory, And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, Wishing his foot were equal with his eye; And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, Saying-he'll lade it dry to have his way. Gloster on his Deformity. Why, love foreswore me, And, for I should not deal in her soft laws, |