« EdellinenJatka »
I find myselli ven here my soul
North. No more, but that you read
Was this the face, that fac'd so many follies,
Offering a Paper. And was at last out-fac'd by Bolingbroke 's These accusations, and these grievous crimes, A brittle glory shineth in this face : Committed by your person and your followers, As brittle as the glory is the face : Against the state and profit of this land;
Dashes the glass against the ground. That, by confessing then, the souls of men For there it is, crack'd in a huudred sbivers.May deem that you are worthily depos'd.
Mark, silent hing, the moral of this sport, K. Rich. Must I do so? and must I ravel How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd ny face. out
Boling. The shadow of your sorrow bath My weav'd-up follies ? Gentle Northumberland,
destroy'd If thy offences were upon record,
The shadow of your face. Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop,
K. Rich. Say that again. To read a lecture of them ? If thou would'st, The shadow of my sorrow ? Ha ! let's see :There should'st thou find one heinous article, 'Tis very true, my grief lies all within ; Containing the deposing of a king,
And these external manners of lament And cracking the strong warrant of an oath, - Are merely shadows to the unseen grief, Mark'd with a blot, damu'd in the book of Tbat swells with silence iu the tortur'd soul; heaven :
There lies the snbstance: and I thank thee, king, Nay, all of you, that stand and look upon me, For thy great bounty, that uot only giv'st Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait my. Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way sell.
How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon, Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your And theu be gone, and trouble you no more. bands,
Shall I obtain it? Showing an outward pity : yet you Pilates
Boling. Name it, fair consin. Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross,
K. Rich. Fair cousin ? Why, I am greater than And water cannot wash away your sin,
a kiug: North. My lord, despatch; read o'er these For, when I was a king, my flatterers articles,
Were then but subjects : being now a subject, K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot I have a king here to my flatterer. see :
Being so great, I bave no need to beg.
K. Rich. And sball I have ?
Boling. You shall. I find myself a traitor with the rest :
K. Rich. Then give me leave to go. For I have given here my soul's consent,
Boling. Whither? To undeck the pompons body of a king ;
K. Rich. Whither you will, so I were frcın Make glory base ; and sovereignty a slave;
your sig:ats. Proud majesty a subject; state a peasant.
Boling. Go, some of you, convey him to the North. My lord,
Tower. K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught, + in- K. Rich. O good! Convey |--Couveyers are sulting man,
you all, Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title, That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall. No, not that name was given me at the font,
(Ereunt K. RICHARD, some Lords, and But 'tis usurp'd :-Alack the heavy day,
a Guard. That I have worn so many winters out,
Boling. On Wednesday next, we solemuly set And know not now what name to call inyself!
down o that I were a mockery king of snow,
Our coronation : lords, prepare yourselves. Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke,
(Exeunt all but the ABBOT, Bishop of To melt myself away in water-drops !
CARLISLE, and AUMER LE. Good king,--great king,-(and yet not greatly Abbot. A woeful pageant have we here begood,)
held. An if my word be sterling yet in England,
Car. The woe's to come; the children yet uu. Let it command a mirror bither straight;
born That it may show me what a face I have,
Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn. Since it is bankrupt of his majesty,
Aum. You holy clergymen, is there no plot Boling. Go some of you, and fetch a looking. To rid the realm of this pernicious blot ? glass.
(Erit an Attendant. Abbot. Before I freely speak my mind herein, North, Read o'er this paper, while the glass You shall not only take tbe sacrament doth compe.
To bury + mine intents, but to effect K. Rich. Fiend ! thou torment'st me ere 1 Whatever I shall happen to devise :come to hell.
I see your brows are full of discoutent, Boling. Urge it nom
lord Northum Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears : berland.
Come home with me to supper; I will lay North. The commons will not then be satis- A plot, sball show us all a merry day. fed.
(Exeunt. K. Rich. They shall be satisfied : I'll read
SCENE 1.-London.-A Street leading to
the Tower. Give me that glass, and therein will I read.No deeper wrinkles yet! Hath sorrow struck
Enter QUEEN, and Ladies. So many blows upon this face of mine,
Queen. This way the king will come; this is And made no deeper wounds 1-0 tlattering
the way glass,
To Julius Cæsar's ill-erected tower, 1 Like to my followers in prosperity,
To whose fint bosom my condemned lord Thou dost beguile me! Was this face the face, lied
ice, Is doom'd a prisoner, by proud Boliugbroke : That every day under his household roof
Here let us rest if this rebellious earth Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the Have any resting for her true king's queen.
face, That, like the sun did make beholders wink?
The tower of London is, traditionally, said to bars • l'ack.
* Haughty. | been raised by Julius Casar.
Enter King RICHARD, and Guards.
North. My guilt be on my head, and there an But soft, but see, or rather do not see,
end. My fair rose wither : Yet look up; behold; Take leave, and part ; for you must part forth. That you in pity may dissolve to dew,
witb. And wash him fresh again with true-lovel K. Rich. Doubly divorc'd ?-Bad man. ve tears.
violate Ah ! thou. the model where old Troy did stand : A twofold marriage ; 'twixt my crown and me : Thon map of bonour thou king Richard's | And then, betwixt me and my married wife tomb
Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me : And not king Richard ; thou most beauteous inn, And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made.Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodg'din | Part us, Northumberland; I towards the north. thee,
Where shivering cold and sickness pines the When triumph is become an ale-house guest ?
clime; K. Rich. Join not with grief. fair woman, do | My wife to France; from whence set forth in not so,
pomp, To make my end too sudden : learn, good soul, She came adorned hither like sweet May, To think our former state a happy dream;
Sent back like Hallowmas, • or sliort'st of day. From wbich awak'd, the truth of what we are Queen. And must we be divided ? must we Shows us but this; I am sworn brother, sweet,
part 1 To grim necessity ; and he and I
K. Rich. Ay, band from hand, my love, and Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to
heart from heart. France,
Queen. Banish us both, and send the king And cloister thee in some religious house :
with me. Our holy lives must win a new world's crown, North. That were some love, but little policy. Which our profane hours here have stricken Queen. Then whither he goes, thither let me
down. Queen. What, is my Richard both in shape K. Rich. So two, together weeping, make one and mind
woe. Transform'd and weakened ? Hath Bolingbroke Weep thon for me in France, I for thee here : Depos'd thine intellect? hath he been in thy | Better far off, than-hear, be ne'er the near'.t heart?
Go, count thy way with sighs; I, mine with The lion, dying, thrusteth fortb his paw,
groans. And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with Queen. So longest way shall have the longest rage
moans. To be o'erpower'd ; and wilt thou, pvpil-like,
K. Rich. Twice for one step I'll groan, the Take thy correction mildly ? kiss the rod;
way being short, And fawn on rage with base humility,
And piece the way out with a heavy heart, Which art a lion, and a king of beasts?
Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief, K. Rich. A king of beasts, indeed ; if aught
Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief. but beasts,
One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly I had been still a happy king of men.
part; Good sometime queen, prepare thee bence for Thus give I mine, and thus I take thy heart. France :
They kiss. Think I am dead ; and that even here thou Queen. Give me mine own again ; 'twere no tak'st,
good part, As from my death-bed, my last living leave.
To take on me to keep, and kill thy beart. In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire
(Kiss again. With good old folks : and let them tell tbee tales | So, now I have my own again, begone, or woful ages, long ago betid : t
| Tbat I may strive to kill it with a groan. Aud, ere thou bid good night, to
K. Rich. We make woe wanton with this fond grief,
delay : Tell thou the lamentable fall of me,
Once more, adieu ; the rest let sorrow say. And send the hearers weeping to their beds.
(Éreunt. For wby, the senseless brands will sympathize The heavy accent of thy moving tongue,
SCENE II.-The same.-A Room in the Duke And, in compassion, weep the fire out:
of YORK's Palace. And some will mourn in asbes, some coal-black, For the deposing of a rightful king.
Enter YORK, and his DUCHESS.
Duch. My lord, you told me you would tell Enter NORTHUMBERLAND attended.
the rest, North. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is When weeping made you break the story oft ebang'd;
of our two cousins coming into London. You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.--- York. Where did I leave ? And, madam, there is order ta'en for you;
Duch. At that sad stop, my lord, With all swift speed you must a way to France. Where rude misgovern'd bands, from window's K. Rich. Northumberland, thou ladder where.
Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,
head. The time shall not be many hours of age
York. Then, as I said, the duke, great Bol. More than it is, ere foul sin, gathering head,
ingbroke, Sball break into corruption : thou shalt think, Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed, Though he divide the realm, and give thee balf,
d give thee balf. Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know,It is too little, helping him to all;
With slow but stately pace, kept on his course, And he shall think that thou, which know'st the Wbile all tongues cried-God save thee, Bolway
ingbroke! To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again, You would have thought the very windows Being ne'er so little urg'd, another way
spake, To pluck him headlong from the usurped So many greedy looks of young and old throne.
Through caseinents darted their desiring eyes The love of wicked friends converts to fear; Upon bis visage ; and that all the walls, That fear, to hate ; and bate turns one, or both, With painted imag'ry, I had said at once,To worthy danger, and deserved death.
• All-hallows, i. e. All-saints, Nov. I. • Picture of greatness.
Never the nigher. i t'assed Be even with them.
• Tapestry hung from the windows.
Vork. Gube, Yorkbe trespe we like with line age,
Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke! York. Give me my boots, I say , saddle my Whilst he, from one side to the other turuing,
borse : Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck, Now by mine honour, by my life, my troth, Bespake them thus -- thank you, countrymen : I will appeach the villain. [Exit Servant. And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.
Duch. What's the matter 1 Duch. Alas, poor Richard! where rides he York. Peace, foolish woman. the while ?
Duch. I will not peace :- What is the matter, York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
son After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage,
Aum. Good mother, be content ; it is no Are idly bent on him that enters wext,
more Thinking his prattle to be tedious :
Than my poor fise must answer. Even so, or with much more contempt, men's Duch. Thy life answer !
eyes Did scowl on Richard ; no man cried, God save
Re-enter Servant, with Boots. him ;
York. Bring me my boots, I will unto the No joyful tongue gave him bis welcome home ;
king But dust was thrown upon his sacred bead; Duch. Strike him, Aumerle.-Poor boy, thou Which with such gentle sorrow be shook off,
art amaz'd : His face still combating with tears and smiles, Hence, villain I never more come in my sight.The badges of his grief and patience,
(75 the Servant. That bad uot God, for some strong purpose, York. Give me iny boots, I say. steel'd
Duch. Why, York, what wilt thou do? The hearts of men, they must perforce, have Wilt thou pot hide the trespass of thine own? melted,
Have we more sons I or are we like to have ? And barbarism itself have pitied bim.
Is not my teeming • date drunk up with time? But heaven bath a hand in these events ;
And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age, To whose high will we bound our calm contents. And rob me of a happy mother's name? To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now, Is be not like thee? is he got thine owu? Whose state and honour I for aye + allow.
York. Thou fond mad woman,
Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy!
A dozen of tbem bere have ta'en the sacrament, - Duch. Here comes my son Auinerle.
And interchangeably set down their hands, York. Anmerle that was ;
To kill the king at Oxtord. But that is lost, for being Richard's friend,
Duch. He shall be none;
(him And, madam, you must call him Rutland now : We'll keep him here : Then what is that to I am in parliament pledge for his truth,
| York. Away, And lasting fealty to the new-made king. Fond woman I were he twenty times my son, Duch. Welcome, my son: Who are the vio. I would appeach hin. lets now,
Duch. Hadst thon groan'd for him, That strew the green lap of the new-come As I have done, thou'd'st be more pitiful. spring ?
But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect, Aum. Madain, I know not, nor I greatly care That I have been disloyal to thy bed, not:
Aud that he is a bastard, not tby son : God knows, I had as lief be hone, as one. Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind: York. Well, bear you well in this new spring | He is as like thee as a man may be, of time,
Not like to me, or any of my kin, Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime, And yet I love him. Wbat news from Oxford I hold those justs 1 and York. Make way, unruly woman. (Rrit. triumphs ?
Duch. After, Aumerle ; mount thee vpon his Aum. For aught I know, my lord, they do.
borse ; York. You will be there, I know.
Spur, post; and get before him to the king, Aum. If God prevent it not; I purpose so. And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee. York. What seal is that, that hangs without P'll not be long behind : though I be old, thy bosom ?
I doubt not but to ride as fast as York: Yea, look'st thou pale ? let me see the writing. And never will I rise up from the ground, Aum. My lord, 'tis nothing.
Till Bolingbroke have pardou'd thee : Away ; York. No matter then who sees it :
[Exeunt. I will be satisfied, let me see the writing, Aum. I do beseech your grace to pardon me;
SCENE III.-W'indsor.-A Room in the It is a matter of sinall consequence,
Enter BOLI OBROKE as King ; PERCY, and to see.
other LORDS. I fear, I fear,
Boling. Can no man tell of my unthrifty son? Duch. What should you fear ?
'Tis full three months since I did see bien Tis nothing but some bond that he is enter'd
If any plague hang over us, 'tis be. For gay apparel, 'gainst the triumph day. I would to God, my lords, he might be found : York. Bound to himself? what doth be with Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there, a bond
For there, they say, he daily doth frequent, That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool. With unrestrained loose companions ; Boy, let me see the writing.
Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes, Aum. I do beseech you, pardon me; I may And beat our watch, and rob our passengers ; not show it.
While he, young, wanton, and effeininate boy, York. I will be satisfied ; let me see it, I say. Takes on the point of honour, to support
(Snatches it, and reads. So dissolute a crew. Treason ! foul treason I.-villain ! traitor ! slave! Percy. My lord, some two days since I saw Duch. What is the matter, my lords
the prince ; York. Ho! who is within there [Enter a And told him of these triumplis held at Ox. Servant.1 Saddle my borse.
ford. God for his mercy! what treachery is here!
Boling. And what said the gallant? Duch. Wby, what is it, my lord ?
Percy. His answer was,-he would unto the
stewe ; • Carelessly turned. Tilts und tourosments.
earth,ve to my fee or speaki.
SDuch. entle liege.good aunt:ch:
Aud from the common'st creature pluck a l Thou kill'st me in bis life : giving him breath. glove
The traitor lives, the true man's put to death. And wear it as a favour; and with that
Duch. [Within.) Wbat ho, my liegel for He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.
God's sake let me in. Boling. As dissolute as desperate; yet Boling. What shrill-voic'd suppliant makes through both
tbis eager cry? I see some sparkles of a better hope,
Duch. A woinan, and thine aunt, great king, Wbicb elder days may happily bring forth.
'tis I. But who comes bere?
Speak with me, pity ine, open the door
A beggar begs, tbat never begg'd before.
Boling. Our scene is alter'd,--from a serious Aum. Where is the king ?
thing, Boling. What means
And now chang'd to The Beggar and the Our cousin, that he stares and looks so wildly?
King. Aum. God save your grace. I do beseech | My dangerous cousin, let your mother in : your majesty,
I know she's come to pray for your foul sin. To have some conference with your grace alone.
York, if thou do pardon, whosoever pray, Boling. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us
More sins, for this forgiveness, prosper may. bere alone.
This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rests sound ; [Ereunt PERCY and LORD
This, let alone, will all the rest confound. What is the matter with our cousiu now?
Enter DUCHESS. Aum. For ever may my knees grow to the
e [Kneels. Duch. O king, believe not this hard-hearted Ms tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth,
man ; Unless a pardon, ere I rise or speak
Love, loving not itself, none other can. Boling. Intended or committed, was this York. Thou frantic woman, what dost thou fault ?
make + here? If but the first, how heinous ere it be,
Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear ? To win thy after-love, I pardou thee.
Duch. Sweet York, be patient : Hear me, Aum. Then give me leave that I may turn
[Kneels. the key,
Boling. Rise up, good aunt, That no mpan enter till my tale be done. .
Duch. Not yet, i thee beseech : Boling. Have thy desire.
For ever will I kneel upon my knees, [AUMERLE locks the door. And never see day that the happy sees, York. Within.] My liege, beware : look to / Till thou give joy ; until thou bid me joy, thyself;
By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.
Aum. Uuto my mother's prayers, I bend my Boling. Villain, I'll make thee safe.
(Kneels. Drawing. York. Against them both, my true joints Aum. Stay thy revengeful hand;
(Kneels. Thou hast no cause to fear.
Il may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any grace! York. (Wichin.] Oven the door. secure. fool Duch. Pleads he in earnest ? look upon bis hardy king :
face ; Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face? His eyes do drop no tears, bis prayers are in Open the door, or I will break it open.
jest ; (BOLING BROKE opens the door. His words come from his mouth, ours from our
breast : Enter YORK.
He prays but faintly, and would be denied ;
We pray with heart, and soul, and all be. Boling. What is the matter, uncle ? speak;
side : Recover breath; tell us how pear is danger,
His weary joints would gladly rise, I know ; Tbat we may arm us to encounter it.
Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they York. Peruse tbis writing here, and thou
grow; shalt know
His prayers are full of false bypocrisy ; The treason that my haste forbids me show.
Our's of true zeal and deep integrity. Aum. Remember, as thou read'st, thy pro- Our prayers do out-pray his ; then let them mise past :
have I do repent me ; read pot my name there,
That mercy, which true prayers ought to have. My heart is not confederate with my hand.
Boling. Good aunt, stand up. York. 'Twas, villain, ere thy hand did set it Duch. Nay, do not say-stand up ; down.
But, pardon, first; and afterwards stand up. I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king:
And if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, Fear, and not love, begets his penitence :
Pardon should be the first word of thy speech. Forget to pity bim, lest thy pity prove
I never long'd to hear a word till now; A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.
Say pardon, king; let pity teach thee how : Boling. 0 heinous, strong, and bold conspi. The word is short, but not so short as sweet ; racy!
No word like pardon, for kings' mouths so O royal father of a treacberous son !
meet. Tbou sbeer, . immaculate, and silver fountain, York. Speak it in French, king ; say, par. From whence this stream through muddy pas
donnex moy. I sages,
Duch. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to de. Hath held bis current, and defil'd himself !
stroy ; Thy overflow of good converts to bad ;
Ah! my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord, And thy abundant goodness sball excuse
That set'st the word itself against the word ? This deadly blot iu thy digressing + son.
Speak, pardou, as 'tis current in our land; York. So hall my virtue be his vice's The chopping French we do not understand. bawd ;
Thine eye begins to speak, set thy tongue And he shall spend mine honour with his
there : shame,
Or, in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear; As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold.
That, hearing, bow our plaints and prayers do Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies,
pierce, Or my sham'd life in his dishonour lies :
Pity may move thee, pardon to rehearse.
• An old ballad.
* Excuse me.
grobare fullnd dee
Boling. Good aunt, stand up.
| Nor shall not be the last ; like silly beggars, Duch. I do not sue to stand,
Who, sitting in the stocks refuge their shame,Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.
That many have, and others must sit there : Bodins. I pardon him, as God shall pardon | And in this thought they find a kind of ease. ine.
Bearing their own misfortune on the back Duch. U happy vantage of a kneeling knee ! or such as have before endur'd the like. Yet am I sick for fear : speak it again ;
Thus play I, in one person, many people, Twice saying pardon, dotb not pardon twain, And none contented : Sometimes am I king : But makes one pardon strong.
Then treason makes me wish myself a beggar, Boling. With all my heart
And so I am : Then crushing penury I pardon him.
Persuades me I was better when a king : Duch. A god on earth thou art.
Then am I king'd again and, by-and-by, Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law, Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke, and the abbot,
And straight am nolbing :-But, whale'er I am, With all the rest of that consorted crew,
Nor I, nor any man, that but man is, Destruction straight shall dog them at the With nothing shall be pleas'd, till be be eas'd heels.
With being nothing.-Music do I hear? Good uncle, help to order several powers •
(Music. To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are : Ha, ba! keep time :-How sour sweet muThey shall not live witbin this world, I swear,
sic is, But I will have them, if I once know where. When time is broke, and no proportion kept ! Uucle, farewell, and cousin too, adieu :
So is it in the music of men's lives. Your mother well bath pray'd, and prove you And here have I the daintiness of ear, true.
To check time broke in a disorder'd string ; Duch. Come, my old son :-) pray God make But for the concord of my state and time, thee new.
Exeunt. Had not an ear to bear my true time broke.
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me. SCENE IV.
For now hath time made me his uumb'ring
clock : Enter EXTON, and a SERVANT.
My thoughts are minutes ; and, with sigbs, Erton. Did'st thou uot mark the king, what
(watch, words he spake ?
Their watches on to mine eyes, the outward Have I no friend will rid me of this living Where to my finger, like a dial's point, fear ?
Is pointing still, in cleansing them froin tears. Was it not so ?
Now, Sir, the sound, that tells what hour it is. Serv. Those were his very words.
Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my. E.ston. Have I no friend ? quoth he: he
heart, spake it twice,
Which is the bell : So sighs, and tears, and And urg'd it twice togeiher; did he not?
[time Serv. He did.
Show minutes, times, and hours :- but my Exton. And, speaking it, he wistfully look'a Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy, on me;
While I stand fooling here, is Jack o'the clock. As who should say I would thou wert the This music mads me, let it sound no more : man
For, though it have holpe madmen to their That would divorce this terror from my heart;
wits, Meaning, the king at Pomfret. Come, let's In me, it seems it will make wise men mad. go;
Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me! I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe. For 'tis a sign of love ; aud love to Richard
Ercunt. Is a strange brooch 1 in this all-hating world. SCENE 7.-Pomfret.-The Dungeon of the
Groom. Hail, royal prince !
K. Rich. Thanks, noble peer;
The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear. K. Rich. I have been studying how I may What art thou ? and how comest thou hither, compare
Where no man never comes, but that sad dog This prison wbere I live, unto the world :
That brings me food, to make misfortune live ? And, for because the world is populous,
Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, And here is not a creature but myself,
king, I cannot do it ;-Yet I'll haminer it out.
When thou wert king; who, travelling towards My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;
York, My soul, the fatber : and these two beget
With much ado, at length have gotten leave A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
To look upon my soinetiines ý master's face. And these same thoughts people this little Ob! how it yearu'd my heart, when I bebeld, world ; t
In London streets, that coronation day,
That borse, that I so carefully have dress'd!
gentle friend, Against the word : 1
How went he under him? As thus,-Come little ones ; and then ag
Groom. So proudly, as if he disdain'd the It is as hard to come, as for a camel
ground. To thread the postern g of a needle's eye.
K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on Thought tending to ambition, they do plot
his back! Unlikely wonders : how these vain weak nails That jade hath eat bread from my royal band; May tear a passage through the finty ribs
Tbis hand bath made him proud with clapping of this hard world, my ragged prison walls;
hin. And, for they cannot, die in their own pride. Would be not stumble? Would he not fall Thoughts tending to content, flatter them
(Since pride must have a fall,) and break the That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,
• Tick. Forces.
+ Strike for him, like the figure + His own body. of a man on a bell.
An ornamented buckle, $ Holy scripture Little gate. and also a jewel in general.