O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!
King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain.

The early village cock

Ibid.

Hath twice done salutation to the morn.

Ibid.

By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard
Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers.

Ibid.

And I will stand the hazard of the die :

I think there be six Richmonds in the field. Act v. Sc. 4.

A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!

Ibid.

Order gave each thing view. King Henry VIII. Act i. Sc. 1.

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
That it do singe yourself.

This bold bad man.2

"T is better to be lowly born,

And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perked up in a glistering grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.

"T is well said again;

And 't is a kind of good deed to say well:

And yet words are no deeds.

1 Compare Cibber. Page 248.

Ibid.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

2 Compare Spenser. Page 10.

And then to breakfas. with

What appetite you have. King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
I have touched the highest point of all my greatness:
And, from that full meridian of my glory,

I haste now to my setting: I shall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man see me more.

Press not a falling man too far!

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness!
This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea of glory,
But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride
At length broke under me and now has left me,
Weary and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye:
I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have:
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,

Never to hope again.

A peace above all earthly dignities,

A still and quiet conscience.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

And sleep in dull cold marble.

King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ;

A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it. Ibid.

I charge thee, fling away ambition:

By that sin fell the angels.

Ibid.

Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty.

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 Crom

well,

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!

Had I but served my God with half the zeal

I served my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.

A royal train, believe me.

An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
Give him a little earth for charity!

Ibid.

Ibid.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

He gave his honours to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.

So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him!

Ibid.

Ibid.

He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one;
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading.
Lofty and sour to them that loved him not;
But to those men that sought him sweet as summer.
King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.

After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honour from corruption,
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.

To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures.

"T is a cruelty

To load a falling man.

Ibid.

Act v. Sc. 2.

Act v. Sc. 3.1

Ibid.1

You were ever good at sudden commendations.

They are too thin and bare to hide offences.

Those about her

From her shall read the perfect ways of honour.

Ibid.1

Act v. Sc. 5.2

Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,
His honour and the greatness of his name
Shall be, and make new nations.

A most unspotted lily shall she pass

Ibid.2

To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her. Ibid.2

I have had my labour for my travail.

Troilus and Cressida. Act i. Sc. 1.

The baby figure of the giant mass

Of things to come.

Welcome ever smiles,

And farewell goes out sighing.

Act i. Sc. 3.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

1 Act v. Sc. 2, Dyce, Singer, Staunton, White.
2 Act v. Sc. 4, Dyce, Singer, Staunton, White.

One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.

Troilus and Cressida.

And give to dust that is a little gilt

More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.

And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
Be shook to air.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

His heart and hand both open and both free;
For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows;
Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty.

The end crowns all.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Act iv. Sc. 5.

Ibid.

A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't.1 Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Many-headed multitude.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

I thank you for your voices: thank you:

Your most sweet voices.

Ibid.

Hear you

Act iii. Sc. 1.

this Triton of the minnows?

His nature is too noble for the world:

He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for 's power to thunder.

Serv. Where dwellest thou?

Cor. Under the canopy.

A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears,

And harsh in sound to thine.

Chaste as the icicle

That's curdied by the frost from purest snow

Ibid.

Act iv. Sc. 5.

Ibid.

And hangs on Dian's temple.

Act v. Sc. 3.

1 See Richard Lovelace. Page 172.