And I with tears do wash the blood away. ACT II. THE DUKE OF YORK IN BATTLE. Methought, he bore him* in the thickest troop, Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs; MORNING. See, how the morning opes her golden gates, And takes her farewell of the glorious sun!‡ How well resembles it the prime of youth, Trimm'd like a younker, prancing to his love! THE MORNING'S DAWN. This battle fares like to the morning's war, When dying clouds contend with growing light; What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, Can neither call it perfect day, or night. THE BLESSINGS OF A SHEPHERD'S LIFE. O God! methinks, it were a happy life, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, * Demeaned himself. † Neat cattle, cows, oxen, &c. Aurora takes for a time her farewell of the sun, when she dismisses him to his diurnal course. So many hours must I take my rest; So many days my ewes have been with young; So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds, When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him. ACT III. NO STABILITY IN A MOB. Look, as I blow this feather from my face, A SIMILE ON AMBITIOUS THOUGHTS. Why, then I do but dream on sovereignty; And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, GLOSTER'S DEFORMITY. Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb: And, for I should not deal in her soft laws She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub; To make an envious mountain on my back, Where sits deformity to mock my body; To shape my legs of an unequal size; To disproportion me in every part, Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear whelp, That carries no impression like the dam. And am I then a man to be belov'd? GLOSTER'S DISSIMULATION. Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile; And cry, content, to that which grieves my heart; And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions. I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; ACT IV. HENRY VI. ON HIS OWN LENITY. I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands, Nor posted off their suits with slow delays; My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds, My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs, My mercy dry'd their water-flowing tears: I have not been desirous of their wealth, Nor much oppress'd them with great subsidies, Nor forward of revenge, though they much err'd 2 ACT V. DYING SPEECH OF THE EARL OF WARWICK. Ah who is nigh? come to me, friend or foe, And tell me, who is victor, York, or Warwick? Why ask I that? my mangled body shows, My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows, That I must yield my body to the earth, And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe. Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge, Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle, Under whose shade the ramping lion slept! Whose top-branch over-peer'd Jove's spreading tree, And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind. These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's black veil, Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun, To search the secret treasons of the world: The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with blood, For who liv'd king, but I could dig his grave? QUEEN MARGARET'S SPEECH BEFORE THE BATTLE OF Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I should say My tears gainsay;* for every word I speak, Ye see, I drink the water of mine eyes. Therefore, no more but this:-Henry, your sovereign, Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp'd, His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain, * Unsay, deny. OMENS ON THE BIRTH OF RICHARD III. The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign; Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree. KING RICHARD III. ACT I. THE DUKE OF GLOSTER ON HIS OWN DEFORMITY. NOW are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty, To rook, signified to squat down or lodge on any thing. † Dances. + Armed |