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But, I 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 dressid, Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd, Show'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 He gave his nose, and took't away again; Who, therewith angry, when it next came there, Took it in snuff:--and still he smild, and talk'd; And, as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, He call'd them-untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse Betwixt the wind and his nobility. With many holiday and lady terms He questioned me; anong

the rest demanded
My prisoners, in your majesty's behall.
I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold,
To be so pesterd with a popinjav,t
Out of my grieff and my impatience,
Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what;
He should, or he should not;—for he made me mad,
To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman,
or guns, and drums, and wounds, (God save the

And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth
Was permaceti, for an inward bruise;
And that it was great pity, so it was,
That villanous salt-petre should be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good taliş fellow had destroy'd
So cowardly; and, but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.

A small box for musk or other perfiimes. + Parrot.

§ Brave.

# Pain.


I'll read you matter deep and dangerous;
As full of peril, and advent’rous spirit,
As to o’erwalk a current, roaring loud,
On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.


By heaven, methinks, it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honour from the pale-fac'd moon; Or dive into ihe bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up downward honour by the locks; Snhé, that doth redeem her thence, might wear, Without corrival,* all her dignities: But out upon this half-tac'd fellowship!t.


O my good lord, why are you thus alone? For what offence have I, this fortnight, been A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed? Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thes Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep? Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth: And start so often when thou sit'st alone? Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks; And given my treasures, and my rights of thee, To thick-ey'd musing, and curs'd melancholy? In thy saint slumbers, I by thee have watchid, And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars: Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed; Cry, Courage!-to the field! And thou hast talk'd or sallies, and retires; of trenches, tents, of pallisadoes, frontiers, parapets; of basilisks, of cannon, culverin; of prisoners ransom, and of soldiers slain, And all the 'currentst of a heady fight. Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war, And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep,

• A rival + Friendship Occurrencon

That beads* of sweat have stood upon thy brow,
Like bubbles in a late disturbed stream;
And in thy face strange motions have appear’d,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden haste. O, what portents are

Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not.


I cannot blame him: at my nativity
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
Of burning cressets;t and, at my birth,
The frame and huge foundation of the earth
Shak'd like a coward.

Why, so it would have done
At the same season, if your mother's cat had
But kitten'd, though yourself had ne'er been born.

Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth
In strange eruptions; ost the teeming earth
Is with a kind of cholic pinch'd and vex'd
By the imprisoning of unruly wind
Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving,
Shakes the old beldame earth, and topplest down
Steeples and moss-grown towers.


Marry, and I am glad of it with all my heart.
I had rather a kitten, and cry--mew,
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers:
I had rather hear a brazen cansticks turn'd,
Or a dry wheel grate on an axletree;
And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,

* Drops.

+ Lights set cross ways upon beacons, and also upon poles, which were used in processions, Sec. Tumbles.

§ Candlestick.

Nothing so much as mincing poetry;
'Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag.


I'll give thrice so much land
To any well-deserving friend;
But, in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.


She bids you

Upon the wanton rushes lay you down,
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
And she will sing the song that pleaseth you,
And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep,
Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness:
Making such difference 'twixt wake and sheep,
As is the difference 'twixt day and night,
The hour before the heavenly-harness team
Begins his golden progress in the east.

Had I so lavish of my presence been,
So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men,
So stale and cheap to vulgar company:
Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
Had still kept loyal to possession;*
And left me in reputeless banishment,
A fellow of no mark, nor likelihood.
By being seldom seen, I could not stir,
But, like a comet, I was wonderd at:
That men would tell their children, This is he;
Others would say,–Where?--which is Boling broke?
And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,
And dress'd myself in such humility,
That I did.pluck allegiance from men's hearts,
Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths,
Even in the presence of the crowned king.
Thus did I keep my person fresh, and new;
My presence, like a robe pontifical,

* True to him that had then possession of the crowd.

Ne'er seen, but wonder'd at: and so my state,
Seldom, hut sumptuous, showed like a seast;
And won, by rareness, such solemnity.
The skipping king, he ambled up and down
With shallow jesters, and rash bavin* wits,
Soon kindled, and soon burn'd: carded his state;
Mingled his royalty with capering fools;
Had his great name prosaned with their scorns
And gave his countenance against his name,
To laugh at gibing boys, and stand the push
Of every beardless vain comparative:f
Grew a companion to the common streets,
Enfeoff'd himself to popularity:
That being daily swallow'd by men's eyes,
They surfeited with honey; and began
To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a littlo
More than a little is by much too much.
So, when he had occasion to be seen,
He was but as the cuckoo is in June,
Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes,
As, sick and blunted with community,
Afford no extraordinary gaze,
Such as is bent on sun-like majesty
When it shines seldom in admiring eyes:
But rather drowz'd, and hung their eyelids down,
Slept in his face, and renderid such aspect
As cloudy men use to their adversaries;
Being with his presence glutted, gorg’d and full.

God forgive them, that have so much sway'd
Your majesty's good thoughts away from me!
I will redeem all this on Percy's head,
And, in the closing of some glorious day,
Be bold to tell you, that I am your son;
When I will wear a garment all of blood,
And stain my favours in a bloody mask,
Which, wasħd away, shall scour my shame with it,
And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,
That this same child of honour and renown,
This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,

* Brushwood + Rival Powgossing.

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