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Thus we debase
The nature of our seats, and make the rabble
To peck the eagles.
Let our alliance be combined,
Our best friends made, and our best means stretch'd
And let us presently go sit in council,
How covert matters may be best disclosed,
And open perils surest answer'd.
Time it is, when raging war is done,
To smile at 'scapes and perils over-blown. 12-v. 2.
I will use the olive with my sword:
stint war; make
Prescribe to other, as each other's leech.
No more shall trenching war channel her fields,
Which,-like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
Shall now, in mutual, well-beseeming ranks,
Then, if you fight against God's enemy,
If you do fight against your country's foes,
O war, thou son of hell! Whom angry heavens do make their minister.
This battle fares like to the morning's war,
Sometime, the flood prevails; and then, the wind;
Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast,
So is the equal poise of this fell war.
The cannons have their bowels full of wrath;
Their iron indignation.
Doubtfully it stood;
As two spent swimmers, that do cling together,
He could not
Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride,
The happy man; whether defect of judgment,
From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace
Even with the same austerity and garb
As he controll'd the war.
I raised him, and I pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth: Who being so heighten'd,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
You shout me forth
In acclamations hyperbolical;
As if I loved my little should be dieted
He now, forsooth, takes on him to reform
Over his country's wrongs; and, by this face,
O, he sits high in all the people's hearts;
The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare speaker,
When these so noble benefits shall prove
Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt,
At some time when his soaring insolence
Shall teach the people (which time shall not want,
To the common people
How he did seem to dive into their hearts,
What reverence he did throw away on slaves;
With-Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends.
He speaks home; you may relish him more in the soldier, than in the scholar.
This man so cómplete,
Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we, Almost with ravish'd list'ning, could not find
His hour of speech a minute; he
Hath into monstrous habits put the graces,
That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading,
O, who shall believe,
But you misuse the reverence of your place;
For holy offices I have a time; a time
He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
His promises were, as he then was, mighty;
It better shew'd with you,
When that your flock, assembled by the bell,
Your exposition on the holy text;
Than now to see you here an iron man,
Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal
More like a soldier, than a man o' the church,
You are meek and humble-mouth'd;
You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,
You have, by fortune,
Gone slightly o'er low steps; and now are mounted, Where powers are your retainers: and your words, Domestics to you, serve your will, as't please Yourself pronounce their office.