prains, did, in his ales and his angers, look you, kill his pest friend Clytus.-Id. Gower. Nay, that's right: but why wear your leek to-day ? Saint Davy's day is past. Fluellen. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things: I will tell you, as my friend, Captain Gower; the rascally, scald, beggarly, lowsy, pragging knave, Pistol,which you and yourself, and all the 'orld, know to be no petter than a fellow, look you now, of no merits, he is come to me, and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and bid me eat my leek: it was in a place where I could not breed no contentions with him; but I will be so pold as to wear it in my cap till I see him once again, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires. (Enter PISTOL.) Gower. Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock. Fluellen. 'Tis no matter for his swellings, nor his turkeycocks.-Pless you, ancient Pistol! you scurvy, lowsy knave, pless you! Pistol. Ha! art thou Bedlam? dost thou thirst, base To have me fold up Parca's fatal web? Fluellen. I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lowsy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek; because, look you, you do not love it, nor your affections, and your appetites, and your digestions, does not agree with it, I would desire you to eat it. Pistol. Not for Cadwallader, and all his goats. Fluellen. There is one goat for you. you be so goot, scald knave, as eat it? Pistol. Base Trojan, thou shalt die. (Strikes him.) Will Fluellen. You say very true, scald knave: I will desire you to live in the meantime, and eat your victuals; come, there is sauce for it. (Striking him again.) You called me yesterday "mountain-squire ;" but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree. I pray you, fall to; if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek. Gower. Enough, captain; you have astonished him. Fluellen. I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat his pate four days :-Pite, I pray you: It is good for your green wound, and your ploody coxcomb. Pistol. Must I bite ? Fluellen. Yes, certainly; and out of doubt, and out of questions too and ambiguities.-Act 5. Sc. 1. KING HENRY VI.-PART I. Sir William Lucy. Thus while the vulture of sedition Henry the Fifth.-Act 4. Sc. 3. KING HENRY VI.-PART II. Duke of Suffolk. Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep.-Act 3. Sc. 1. King Henry. What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted? Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just: And he but naked (though lock'd up in steel), KING HENRY VI.-PART III. Richard (afterwards Duke of Gloster). To weep, is to make less the depth of grief.-Act 2. Sc. 1. Lord Clifford. The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on; And doves will peck, in safeguard of their brood.-Sc. 2. Duke of Gloster. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind; The thief doth fear each bush an officer.-Act 5. Sc. 6. KING RICHARD III. Gloster. Now is the winter of our discontent Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; But I,-that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. Dive, thoughts, down to my soul! here Clarence comes.Act 1, Sc, 1. Sir Robert Brakenbury. Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing Makes the night morning, and the noontide night,-Sc. 4. life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die: I think, there be six Richmonds in the field; A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!-Act 5, Sc. 4. KING HENRY VIII. Duke of Norfolk. . . . ancestry (whose grace Chalks successors their way.)-Act 1, Sc. 1. Norfolk. To Wolsey. cope malicious censurers.-Sc. 2. Buckingham. Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels, Be sure you be not loose.-Act 2, Sc. 1. Norfolk. He dives into the king's soul; and there scatters Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, Fears and despairs, and all these for his marriage: Anne Bullen. Verily, I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Wolsey. Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness! I feel my heart new open'd: O! how wretched More pangs and fears than wars or women have.-Act 3, Sc. 2. Cromwell. How does your grace? Wolsey. Why, well; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me, A load would sink a navy, too much honour: O! 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Love thyself last cherish those hearts that hate thee; Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues-Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O! Cromwell, Thou fallest a blessed martyr. Serve the king; And,-pr'ythee lead me in: There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny: 'tis the king's: my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call my own. O! Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal |