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Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make
'Tis said they ate each other. Rosse. They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes, That look'd upon't.
Up with me! up with me into the clouds,
For thy song, Lark, is strong;
Lift me, guide me, till I find
And to-day my heart is weary;
Up to thee would I fly.
In that song of thine ;
οργή τ’ έχώρουν προς βίαν πειθαρχίας,
ώσπερ ξυν ανθρώποισιν άψοντες μάχην. ΓΕΡ. Λέγουσι δ' ως φάγοιεν αλλήλους. ΡΟΣΣ.
Εγώ φάγοντας είδον, και κατέπτησσον φόβω.
THE SAME TRANSLATED.
Mecum scande volans cærula nubium ;
Duc me, suavis alauda,
Dum visam, tibi qui sic placeat, locum.
Ægrum cor mihi languet :
Pennas indueret, me tibi jungerem.
Joyous as morning,
Happy, happy liver,
Alas! my journey, rugged and uneven,
Aurorâ levior, lætior ebrio
Est cum conjuge nidus :
Errabunda vias, strenua quamlibet.
Felices ego sim tuque! Sed asperos
Et spinosa vagandum :
Te coetusque tuos, par tibi gaudium
Vitæ spe melioris,
FROM RICHARD III.
Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death,
a And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave ? My brother kill'd no man, his fault was thought; And yet his punishment was bitter death. Who sued to me for him ? who, in my wrath, Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advised ? Who spake of brotherhood ? who spake of love? Who told me, how the poor soul did forsake
, The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? Who told me, in the field at Tewkesbury, When Oxford had me down, he rescued me, And said, Dear brother, live, and be a king ? Who told me, when we both lay in the field, Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me Even in his garments; and did give himself, All thin and naked, to the numb-cold night? All this from my remembrance brutish wrath Sinfully pluck’d, and not a man of you Had so much grace to put it in my mind. But, when your carters, or your waiting-vassals,