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FALLEN GREATNESS,—continued.

High events as these

Strike those that make them: and their story is
No less in pity, than his glory, which

Brought them to be lamented.

Nay then, farewell!

A.C. v. 2

I've touch'd the highest point of all my greatness!
And, from that full meridian of my glory,
I haste now to my setting. I shall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man see me more.

H.VIII. iii. 2.

Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers?
Where be thy two sons? wherein dost thou joy?
Who sues, and kneels, and says-God save the queen?
Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee?
Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee?
Decline all this, and see what now thou art.

A falcon, tow'ring in her pride of place,
Was, by a mousing owl, hawk'd at, and kill'd.
An argument that he is pluck'd, when hither
He sends so poor a pinion of his wing,
Which had superfluous kings for messengers,
Not many moons gone by.

O wither'd is the garland of the war,

R. III. iv. 4.

M. ii. 4.

A. C. iii. 10.

The soldier's pole is fallen; young boys, and girls
Are level now with men; the odds is gone,

And there is nothing left remarkable

Beneath the visiting moon.

A. C. iv. 13.

O mighty Cæsar! Dost thou lie so low?

Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,
Shrunk to this little measure?

J.C. iii. 1.

'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune,
Must fall out with men too: What the declin'd is,
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others,
As feel in his own fall:-for men, like butterflies,
Show not their mealy wings but to the summer.

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.

I know myself now; and I feel within me

A peace above all earthly dignities,

T.C. iii. 3

A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me,
I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders,

These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken

A load would sink a navy, too much honour:

O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden,

Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven. H.VIII, iii. 2.

FALLEN GREATNESS,-continued.

My lord of Winchester, you are a little,

By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble,
However faulty, yet should find respect,
For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty,
To load a falling man.

His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little.
What, amazed

At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder,

H. VIII. v. 2.

H.VIII. iv. 2

A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,

I am fallen indeed.

H. VIII. iii. 2

There was the weight that pull'd me down. O Cromwell,

The king has gone beyond me, all my glories

In that one woman I have lost for ever:

No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours,

Or gild again the noble troops that waited

Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell;
I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now

To be thy lord and master.

H. VIII. iii. 2.

Brave Percy: Fare thee well, great heart!
Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk !
When that this body did contain a spirit,

A kingdom for it was too small a bound;
But now, two paces of the vilest earth
Is room enough.

H. IV. PT. I. v. 4.

Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs,
Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes,
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.
Let's choose executors, and talk of wills:
And yet not so, for what can we bequeath,
Save our deposed bodies to the ground?
Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's,
And nothing can we call our own, but death;
And that small model of the barren earth,
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
For heaven's sake let us sit upon the ground,
And tell sad stories of the death of kings:-
How some have been depos'd, some slain in war;-
Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd;
Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd;
All murder'd.
R. II. iii. 2.

O, my lord,

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Press not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue:

His faults lie open to the laws; let them,

FALLEN GREATNESS,-continued.

Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him
So little of his great self.

H. VIII. iii. 2.

I must now forsake ye; the last hour
Of my long weary life is come upon me.

Farewell:

And when you would say something that is sad,
Speak how I fell.

Pry'thee go hence,

Or I shall show the cinders of my spirit

Through the ashes of my chance.

Now boast thee, death! in thy possession lies
A lass unparallel'd.—Downy windows, close;
And golden Phoebus never be beheld

Of eyes again so royal!

FALSE CHARACTERS.

H.VIII. ii. 4.

A. C. v. 2.

A.C. v. 2.

I am damned in hell, for swearing to gentlemen, my friends, you were good soldiers, and tall fellows: and when Mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan, I took't upon mine honour, thou hadst it not. M.W. ii. 2.

HAIR.

So are those crisped snaky golden locks,

Which make such wanton gambols with the wind,
Upon supposed fairness, often known

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That same Diomed is a false-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave; I will no more trust him when he leers, than I will a serpent when he hisses; he will spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabler the hound; but when he performs, astronomers fortel it; it is prodigious; there will come some change; the sun borrows of the moon, when Diomed keeps his word. T. C. v. 1.

FALLSTAFF.

I have much to say on behalf of that Fallstaff.

FAME (See also CELEBRITY).

Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives,
Live register'd upon our brazen tombs,

H. IV. PT. I. ii. 4.

FAME,-continued.

;

And then grace us in the disgrace of death
When, spite of cormorant devouring Time,
The endeavour of this present breath may buy
That honour which shall bate his scythe's keen
And make us heirs of all eternity.

All-telling Fame.

It deserves with characters of brass,

A forted residence, 'gainst the tooth of time
And razure of oblivion.

The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones.
Men's evil manners live in brass: their virtues
We write in water.

Death makes no conquest of this conqueror;
For now he lives in fame, though not in life.

He lives in fame, that died in virtue's cause.

After my death, I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour from corruption,
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.

edge, L.L. i. 1.

L. L. ii. 1.

M. M. v. 1.

J. C. iii. 2.

H. VIII. iv. 2.

R. III. iii. 1.

Tit. And. i. 2.

H.VIII. iv. 2.

Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!
Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,
But not remember'd in thy epitaph.

Fame, at the which he aims,—

H. IV. PT. I. V. 4.

In whom already he is well grac'd,—cannot
Better be held, nor more attain'd, than by
A place below the first: for what miscarries
Shall be the general's fault, though he perform
To the utmost of a man; and giddy censure
Will then cry out of Marcius, O, if he
Had borne the business!

O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth,
I better brook the loss of brittle life,

Than those proud titles thou hast won of me;

C. i. 1.

They wound my thoughts, worse than thy sword my flesh:

But thought's the slave of life, and life, time's fool;

And time, that takes survey of all the world,

Must have a stop.

Having his ear full of his airy fame,

Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent
Lies mocking our designs.

H. IV. PT. I. v. 4.

T. C. i. 3.

FAME,-continued.

If a man do not erect, in this age, his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument, than the bell rings, and the widow weeps. * * * An hour in clamour, and a quarter in rheum.

M. A. v. 2.

I would give all my fame for a pot of ale, and safety.

FANCY.

So full of shapes is fancy,

That it alone is high-fantastical.

H.V. iii. 2.

T. N. i. 1.

An old hat, and the humour of forty fancies stuck in it

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She knew her distance, and did angle for me,

Madding my eagerness with her restraint,

As all impediments in fancy's course

Are motives of more fancy.

A. W. v. 3.

We must every one be a man of his own fancy.

A. W. iv. 1.

In maiden meditation, fancy-free.

M. N. ii. 2.

FASHION.

See'st thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this fashion is? how giddily he turns about all the hot bloods between fourteen and five-and-thirty? M. A. iii. 3.

Eat, speak, and move, under the influence of the most received star; and though the devil lead the measure, such are to be followed.

A. W. ii. 1.

I see that the fashion wears out more apparel than the

man.

New customs,

Though they be never so ridiculous,

M. A. iii. 3.

Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd. H. VIII. i. 3.

These remnants

of fool and feather, that they got in France,

With all their honourable points of ignorance
Pertaining thereunto.

H.VIII. i. 3.

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