Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set.
His passion is. so ripe, it needs must break:

NEWS BEARERS.

Old men, and beldams, in the streets
Do prophesy upon it dangerously:

Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths:
And when they talk of him they shake their heads,
And whisper one another in the ear;

And he, that speaks, doth gripe the hearer's wrist;
Whilst he, that hears, makes fearful action.
With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes,
I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,

With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news.
Who, with his shears and measure in his hand
Standing on slippers, (which his nimble haste
Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet,)
Told of a many thousand warlike French,
That were embattled and rank'd in Kent:
Another lean unwash'd artificer

Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death.

THE EVIL PURPOSES OF KINGS TOO SERVILELY EXECUTED.

It is the curse of kings, to be attended

By slaves, that take their humours for a warrant
To break within the bloody house of life:
And, on the winking of authority,

To understand a law; to know the meaning
Of dangerous majesty, when, perchance, it frowns
More upon humour than advis'd respect.*

A VILLAIN'S LOOK, AND READY ZEAL.
How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds,
Makes deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by,
A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd,
Quoted,† and sign'd, to do a deed of shame,
This murder had not come into my mind.
Hadst thou but shook thy head, or made a pause,
When I spake darkly what I purposed;
Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face,

* Deliberate consideration. † Observed

As bid me tell my tale in express words;

Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off, And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me.

Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes,
For villany is not without such rheum;*
And he, long traded in it, makes it seem
Like rivers of remorse† and innocency.

DESPAIR.

If thou didst but consent

To this most cruel act, do but despair,
And, if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread
That ever spider twisted from her womb

Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be

A beam to hang thee on; or would'st thou drown thyself,

Put but a little water in a spoon,
And it shall be as all the ocean,
Enough to stifle such a villain up.

ACT V.

A MAN IN TEARS.

Let me wipe off this honourable dew,
That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks;
My heart hath melted at a lady's tears,
Being an ordinary inundation:

But this effusion of such manly drops,
This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul,
Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd
Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven
Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors.

Lift
up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,
And with a great heart heave away this storm:
Commend these waters to those baby eyes,
That never saw the giant world enrag'd;
Nor met with fortune other than at feasts,
Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossipping.
+ Pity.

* Moisture.

Strike

DRUMS.

up the drums: and let the tongue of war

Plead for our interest.

Do but start

An echo with the clamour of thy drum,
And even at hand a drum is ready brac❜d,
That shall reverberate all as loud as thine;
Sound but another, and another shall,
As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's* ear,
And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder.

APPROACH OF DEATH.

It is too late; the life of all his blood

Is touch'd corruptibly; and his pure brain [house,)
(Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling-
Doth, by the idle comments that it makes,
Foretell the ending of mortality.

MADNESS OCCASIONED BY POISON.

Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow room;
It would not out at windows, nor at doors.
There is so hot a summer in my-bosom,
That all my bowels crumble up to dust:
I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen
Upon a parchment; and against this fire
Do I shrink up,

Poison'd,-ill fare:--dead, forsook, cast off:
And none of you will bid the winter come,
To thrust his icy fingers in my maw;

Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course
Through my burn'd bosom; nor entreat the north
To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips
And comfort me with cold.

ENGLAND INVINCIBLE IF UNANIMOUS.

England never did (nor never shall)
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,
But when it first did help to wound itself.
Now these her princes are come home again,
ome the three corners of the world in arms,

*Sky.

And we shall shock them: Nought shall make us

rue,

If England to itself do rest but true.

KING RICHARD II.

ACT I.

REPUTATION.

THE purest treasure mortal times afford,
Is-spotless reputation; that away,
Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay.

COWARDICE.

That which in mean men we entitle-patience, Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.

CONSOLATION UNDER BANISHMENT.

All places that the eye of heaven visits,
Are to a wise man ports and happy havens:
Teach thy necessity to reason thus;
There is no virtue like necessity.

Think not, the king did banish thee;

But thou the king: Wo doth the heavier sit,
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.
Go, say-I sent thee forth to purchase honour,
And not-the king exil'd thee: or suppose,
Devouring pestilence hangs in our air,
And thou art flying to a fresher clime.
Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it
To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou com'st,
Suppose the singing birds, musicians;

The grass whereon thou tread'st, the presence* strew'd;

The flowers, fair ladies; and thy steps, no more
Than a delightful measure, or a dance:
For gnarlingt sorrow hath less power to bite
The man that mocks at it, and sets it light.
*Presence chamber at court.

+ Growling.

And fits the mounting spirits, like myself:
For he is a bastard to the time,

That doth not smack of observation.

ACT II.

DESCRIPTION OF ENGLAND.

That pale, that white-fac'd shore,

Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides,
And coops from other lands her islanders,
Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main,
That water-walled bulwark, still secure
And confident from foreign purposes,
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,
His forces strong, his soldiers confident.
With him along is come the mother-queen,
An Ate,† stirring him to blood and strife;
With her her niece, the lady Blanch of Spain;
With them a bastard of the king deceas'd:
And all the unsettled humors of the land,-
Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries,

With ladies' faces, and fierce dragons' spleens,→
Have sold their fortunes at their native homes,
Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs,
To make a hazard of new fortunes here.
In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits,
Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er,
Did never float upon the swelling tide,
To do offence and scath‡ in Christendom.
The interruption of their churlish drums
Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand.

COURAGE.

By how much unexpected, by so much We must awake endeavour for defence: For courage mounteth with occasion.

* Immediate, expeditious. ↑ The Goddess of Revenge.

* Mischief.