Cap. The gaudy, blabbing and remorseful day

Is crept into the bosom of the sea :
And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades
That drag the tragic melancholy night;
Who, with their drowsy, slow and flagging wings,
Clip dead men's graves and from their misty jaws
Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.

Act 4, Sc. I.

Suf. True nobility is exempt from fear. -Act 4, Sc. 1.

Suf. Great men oft die by vile Bezonians :

A Roman sworder and banditto slave
Murder'd sweet Tully ; Brutus' hastard hand
Stabb’d Julius Cæsar; savage islanders
Pompey the Great ; and Suffolk dies by pirates.

Act 4. Sc. I.

Cade. Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment ? that parchment, being scribbled o'er, should undo a man? Some say the bee stings : but I say, 'tis the bee's wax; for I did but seal once to a thing, and I was never mine own man since.

Act 4, Sc. 2.

Cade. The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.

Act 4, Sc. 2.

Mess. My lord, a prize, a prize ! here's the Lord Say, which sold the towns in France; he that made us pay one and twenty

; fifteens, and one shilling to the pound, the last subsidy.

Cade. Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times. Ah, thou say, thou serge, nay, thou buckram lord ! now art thou within point-blank of our jurisdiction regal. What canst thou answer to my majesty for giving up of Normandy unto Mounsieur Basimecu, the dauphin of France ? Be it known

unto thee by these presence, even the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the besom that must sweep the court clean of such filth as thou art. Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar school : and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be used, and, contrary to the king, his crown and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill. It will be proved to thy face that thou hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun and a verb, and such abominable words as no Christian ear can endure to hear. Thou hast appointed justices of peace, to call poor men before them about matters they were not able to answer. Moreover, thou hast put them in prison ; and because they

; could not read, thou hast hanged them ; when, indeed, only for that cause they have been most worthy to live.

Act 4, Sc. 7. Say.

Ignorance is the curse of God,
Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven.

Act 4, Sc. 7. Rich. Oft have I seen a hot o'erweening cur

Run back and bite, because he was withheld;
Who, being suffer'd with the bear's fell paw,
Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs and cried.

Act 5, Sc. I.

Sal. It is great sin to swear unto a sin,

But greater sin to keep a sinful oath.
Who can be bound by any solemn vow
To do a murderous deed, to rob a man,
To force a spotless virgin's chastity,
To reave the orphan of his patrimony,
To wring the widow from her custom'd right,
And have no other reason for this wrong
But that he was bound by a solemn oath ?

Act 5, Sc. 1.

THIRD PART OF KING HENRY THE SIXTH.

Clis. The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on,
And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.

Act 2, Sc. 2.

K. Henry. Things ill got had ever bad success.

Act 2, Sc. 2.

K. Henry. O God ! methinks it were a happy life,

To be no better than a homely swain;
To sit upon a hill, as I do now,
To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,
Thereby to see the minutes how they run,
How many make the hour full complete ;
How many hours bring about the day;
How many days will finish up the

year;
How many years a mortal man may live.
When this is known, then to divide the times;
So many hours must I tend my flock;
So many hours must I take my rest;
So many hours must I contemplate ;
So many hours must I sport myself;
So many days my ewes have been with young ;
So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean;
So many years ere I shall shear the fleece :
So minutes, hours, days, months, and years,
Pass'd over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
Ah, what a life were this ! how sweet! how lovely!
Gives not the hawthorn-bush a sweeter shade
To shepherds looking on their silly sheep,
Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy
To kings that fear their subjects' treachery?
O, yes, it doth ; a thousand-fold it doth.

a

And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds,
His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle,
His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade,
All which secure and sweetly he enjoys,
Is far beyond a prince's delicates,
His viands sparkling in a golden cup,
His body couched in a curious bed,
When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him.

Act 2, Sc. 5. Son. Ill blows the wind that profits nobody.—Act 2, Sc. 5.

Cla. A little fire is quickly trodden out;
Which being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.

Act 4, Sc. 8.
War. What is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?
And live we how we can, yet die we must.

Act 5, Sc. 2. Glou. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind :

The thief doth fear each bush an officer.—Act 5, Sc. 6.

:

KING RICHARD THE THIRD

Glou. Now is the winter of our discontent

Made glorious summer by this sun of York; * It is desirable to state that the well-known quotations :

“Off with his head! so much for Buckingham ;” and “Richard's himself again,” (used in the acting edition of this play,) were written by Colley Cibber, and are not to be found in Shakespeare's works. In transferring passages from "Henry VI.,”Pt. III., Colley Cibber took not only the scene in which Richard kills Henry, but transferred to Richmond's mouth (Act 5, Sc. I) the line “Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just” from "Henry VI.,' Pt. II. (Act 3, Sc. 2) and parodied from the same play (Act 5, Sc. 2) “Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms” (Act 5, Sc. 8), where Richard exclaims, “Richard is hoarse with daring thee to arms." The expression “a thing devised by the enemy” (Act 5, Sc. 3) is printed in Colley Cibber's acting edition "a weak invention of the enemy."

And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtaild of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform’d, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity :
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain,
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

Act I, Sc. 1.

Anne.

Thou dost infect mine eyes.
Glou. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.
Anne. Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead !
Glou. I would they were, that I might die at once;

For now they kill me with a living death.-Act I, Sc. 2.