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Sleeps in Elysium; next day, after dawn,
DESCRIPTION OF THE MISERABLE
Yon island's carrions, desperate of their bones, Ill-favour'dly become the morning field: Their ragged curtainst poorly are let loose, And our air shakes them passing scornfully, Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host, And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps. 'Their horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks, With torch-staves in their hand: and the poor jades Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips; The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes, And in their pale dull mouths the gimmalt bit Lies foul with chew'd grass still and motionless; And their executors, the knavish crows, Fly o’er them all, impatient for their hour. KING HENRY'S SPEECH BEFORE THE BATTLE OF AGIN
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe 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 Crispian'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, The sun.
+ Colours. * Ring.
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,
DESCRIPTION OF THE DUKE OF YORK'S
He smil'd me in the face, raught* me his hand, And, with a feeble gripe, says-Dear my lord, Commend my 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,
KING HENRY VI..
GLORY. GLORY is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought,
Marriage is a matter of more worth Than to be dealt in by attorneyship. *
For what is wedlock forced, but a hell,
KING HENRY VI.
A RESOLVED AND AMEITIOUS 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.
* By the discretional agency of another
HUSBAND WHEN DOING PENANCE.
ACT III. SILENT RESENTMENT DEEPEST. Smooth runs the water, where the brook is deep; And in his simple show he harbours treason.
A GUILTY COUNTENANCE. Upon thy eyeballs murderous tyranny Sits in grim majesty, to fright the world.
DESCRIPTION OF A MURDERED PERSON. See, how the blood is settled in his face! Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost, I Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and bloodlesk, Being all descended to the labouring heart; Who, in the conflict that it holds with death, Attracts the same for aidance 'gainst the enemy: Which with the heart there cools and ne'er returneth To blush and beautify the cheek again.
* Wrapped up in disgrace; alluding to the sheet of penance.
# A body become inanimate in the common course of nature; to which violence has not brought a timeless end.
But, see, his face is black, and full of blood;
What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted.
A GOOD CONSCIENCE.
A plague upon them! Wherefore should I curse
them? Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan, I would invent as bitter-searching terms, As curst, as barsh, and horrible to hear, Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth, With full as many signs of deadly hate, As lean-fac'd Envy in her loathsome cave: My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words: Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint: My hair be fix'd on end, as one distract: Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban: And even now my burden'd heart would break, Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink! Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste! Their sweetest shade, a grove of cyprus trees! Their chiefest prospect, murdering basilisks! Their softest touch, as smart as lizards' stings! Their music, frightful as the serpent's hiss; And boding screech-owls make the concert full! All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell.
Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from,