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And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus.
Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance.
Thou would'st be fee'd, I see, to make me sport:
York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown.
A crown for York! and, lords, bow low to him:
Hold you his hands, whilst I do set it on.

[Putting a paper crown on his head.
Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king!
Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair,
And this is he was his adopted heir.

But how is it that great Plantagenet

Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath?
As I bethink me, you should not be king

Till our King Henry had shook hands with death.
And will you pale your head in Henry's glory,

And rob his temples of the diadem,

Now in his life, against your holy oath?

O, 'tis a fault too too unpardonable!

Off with the crown; and, with the crown, his head; And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead. 3 Henry VI. i. 4.

HORROR.

24. Macbeth, about to murder Duncan, fancies he sees a dagger in the air.

Is this a dagger which I see before me,

The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.

I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.

Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible

To feeling as to sight? or art thou but

A dagger of the mind, a false creation.
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable

As this which now I draw.

Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still,
And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,

Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs

Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half-world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder,
Alarmed by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout,

And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives:
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

[A bell rings.

I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven or to hell.

Macbeth, ii. 1.

IMPATIENCE.

25. Eagerness of Hotspur to encounter his rival.

No more, no more; worse than the sun in March, This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come; They come like sacrifices in their trim,

And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war

All hot and bleeding will we offer them :
The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit

Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire

To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh

And yet not ours. Come, let me taste my horse,
Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt

Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales:

Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,

Meet and ne'er part till one drop down a corse.

Oh that Glendower were come !-1 Henry IV. iv. 1.

INDIGNATION.

26. Hotspur's Defence of Mortimer.

Revolted Mortimer!

He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,

But by the chance of war: to prove that true

Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds,
Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took,
When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank,

In single opposition, hand to hand,

He did confound the best part of an hour

In changing hardiment with great Glendower.

Three times they breathed and three times did they drink,

Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood:

Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,

Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds,

And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank
Bloodstained with these valiant combatants.
Never did base and rotten policy

Colour her working with such deadly wounds;
Nor never could the noble Mortimer
Receive so many, and all willingly :

Then let not him be slander'd with revolt.

1 Henry IV. i. 3.

JOY.

27. The Peri's Triumph.

Joy, joy for ever! my task is done-
The gates are pass'd, and heaven is won!
Oh! am I not happy? I am, I am—

To thee, sweet Eden! how dark and sad
Are the diamond turrets of Shadukiam,

And the fragrant bowers of Amberabad !

Farewell, ye odours of earth, that die,
Passing away like a lover's sigh :-
:-
My feast is now of the Tooba tree,

Whose scent is the breath of Eternity!

Farewell, ye vanishing flowers, that shone In my fairy wreath, so bright and brief,— Oh, what are the brightest that e'er have blown, To the lote-tree spring by Alla's throne,

Whose flowers have a soul in every leaf ! Joy, joy for ever!-my task is done

The gates are passed, and heaven is won!

MOORE, Paradise and the Peri.

JUDGMENT.

28. Henry V. to the Traitors.

The mercy that was quick in us but late,
By your own counsel is suppressed and kill'd:
You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy;

For your own reasons turn into your bosoms,

As dogs upon their masters, worrying you.
See you, my princes and my noble peers,

These English monsters! My Lord of Cambridge here,
You know how apt our love was to accord
To furnish him with all appertinents
Belonging to his honour; and this man
Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspired,
And sworn unto the practices of France,
To kill us here in Hampton: to the which
This knight, no less for bounty bound to us
Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn.
What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop? thou cruel,
Ingrateful, savage and inhuman creature!
Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels,

That knew'st the very bottom of my soul,

But 0,

That almost might'st have coined me into gold,
Would'st thou have practised on me for thy use,
May it be possible, that foreign hire

Could out of thee extract one spark of evil
That might annoy my finger? 'tis so strange,
That, though the truth of it stands off as gross
As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it.
Treason and murder ever kept together,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,

Working so grossly in a natural cause,
That admiration did not whoop at them.
But thou, 'gainst all proportion didst bring in
Wonder to wait on treason and on murder:
And whatsoever cunning fiend it was
That wrought upon thee so preposterously
Hath got the voice in hell for excellence :
All other devils that suggest by treasons
Do botch and bungle up damnation

With patches, colours, and with forms being fetch'd
From glistering semblances of piety;

But he that temper'd thee bade thee stand up,
Gave thee no instance why thou should'st do treason,
Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor.

If that same demon that hath gull'd thee thus
Should with his lion gait walk the whole world,
He might return to vasty Tartar back,
And tell the legions I can never win

Show men dutiful?

A soul so easy as that Englishman's.'
O, how hast thou with jealousy infected
The sweetness of affiance!
Why, so didst thou: seem they grave and learned ?
Why, so didst thou: come they of noble family?
Why, so didst thou: seem they religious?
Why, so didst thou: or are they spare in diet,
Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger,
Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood,
Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement,
Not working with the eye without the ear,
And but in purged judgment trusting neither?
Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem:
And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot,
To mark the full-fraught man and best indued
With some suspicion. I will weep for thee;
For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like
Another fall of man. Their faults are open:
Arrest them to the answer of the law;

And God acquit them of their practices -Henry V. ii. 2.

M

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