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And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
sans taste, sans every thing.
SHAKESPEARE. C H A P. x 1 x. The Entry of Bolingbroke and Richard
into London. Duke and Duchess of York. Duch. My lord, you told me, you would tell
the rest When weeping made you break the story off Of our two cousins coming into London.
York. Where did I leave?
Duch. At that sad stop, my lord , Where rude misgovern'd hands, from window-tops Threw dust and rubbish on king Richard's head. York. Then, as I said, the duke, great Boling
broke, Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed, Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know, With slow, hut stately pace , kept on his course : While all tongues cried, God save thee, B olin
broke! You would have thought the very windows spaker So many greedy looks of young and old Through casements darted their desiring eyes Upon bis visage ; and that all the walls With painted imag'ry had said at once, Jesu preserve thee! welcome Bolingbroke! Whilst be, from one side to the other turning
Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck
him ! No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home : But dust was thrown upon his sacred head ; Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off , (His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience) That had not God, for some strong purpose,
steel'd The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him. But Heaven hath a hand in these events, To whose high will we bound our calm contents.
( H A P. X X.
EASON thus with life :
Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep,
C H A P. X X I.
Hotspur's Description of a Fop. I
do remember, when the fight was done When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and saint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress’d; Fresh as a bridegroon, and his chin, new reap'd, Shew'd like a stubble land at harvest home. He was perfumed like a milliner; And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A pouncet box, which ever and anon
and took't away again ;
mark) And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth, Was parmacity, for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, so it was, This villainous salt-petre should be digg'd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd So cowardly: and but for these vile
guns, He would himself have been a soldier.
C H A P. x x I I.
Clarence and Brokenbury.
Clar. O! I have pass'd a miserable night,
Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days;
Tow'r, And was enibark'd to cross to Burgundy, And in my company my brother Glo'ster; Who from my cabin tempted me to walk Upon the hatches. Thence we look'd tow'rd Enge
land And cited up a thousand heavy times During the wars of York and Lancaster, That had befallen us. As we pass'd along Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, Methought that Glo'ster stumbled, and in falling Struck me (that sought to stay him) overboard, Into the tumbling billows of the main : Lord, Lord, methought what pain it was to drown What dreadful noise of waters in my
ears! What sights of ugly death within mine eyes ! I thought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon: Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Inestimable stones , unvalued jewels; Some lay in dead men's sculls': and in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by: Brak. Had
such leisure in the time of death, To gaze upon the secrets of the deep?
Clar. Methought I had ; and often did I strive
Brak. Awak'd you not with this sore agony?
dream was lengthen'd after life: