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If! thou protector of this damned strumpet,
Talk'st thou to me of ifs? Thou art a traitor :-
Off with his head:-now, by Saint Paul I swear,
I will not dine until I see the same.

That man, that sits within a monarch's heart,
And ripens in the sunshine of his favour,
Would he abuse the countenance of the king,
Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroach,
In shadow of such greatness!


This is all as true as it is strange :
Nay, it is ten times true; for truth is truth
To the end of reckoning.

If circumstances lead me, I will find
Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed
Within the centre.


For what is he they follow? truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyrant, and a homicide;

One rais'd in blood, and one in blood establish'd;
One that made means to come by what he hath,
And slaughter'd those that were the means to help him;
A base foul stone, made precious by the foil
Of England's chair, where he is falsely set;
One that hath ever been God's enemy.

And many an old man's sigh, and many a widow's,
And many an orphan's water-standing eye,-
Men for their sons, wives for their husbands' fate,
And orphans for their parents' timeless death,-
Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born.

Till now you have gone on, and fill'd the time
With all licentious measure, making your wills
The scope of justice; till now, myself, and such
As slept within the shadow of your power,

Have wandered with our travers'd arms, and breath'd Our sufferance vainly.

He would

Have made them mules, silenc'd their pleaders, and
Dispropertied their freedoms; holding them,
In human action and capacity,

Of no more soul, nor fitness for the world,
Than camels in their war; who have their provand
Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows
For sinking under them.

He hath no friends, but who are friends for fear;
Which, in his dearest need, will fly from him.

Both more and less have given him the revolt;
And none serve with him but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too.

I cannot tell, what you and other men
Think of this life; but, for my single self,
I had as lief not be, as live to be

In awe of such a thing as I myself.

Then live to be the shew and gaze o' the time;
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole; and under-writ,


may you see the tyrant.

Why should Cæsar be a tyrant then? Poor man! I know, he would not be a wolf, But that he sees the Romans are but sheep: He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.

I'll not call you tyrant;

But this most cruel usage of your queen
(Not able to produce more accusation

Than your own weak-hing'd fancy,) something savours
Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you,
Yea, scandalous to the world.

I grant him bloody,

Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,

Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin

That has a name.

His demand

Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love,
But from deceit, bred by necessity;

For how can tyrants safely govern home,
Unless abroad they purchase great alliance?

Our brother is imprison'd by your means,
Myself disgrac'd, and the nobility
Held in contempt; while great promotions

Are daily given, to ennoble those

That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble.

Plague of your policy!

You sent me deputy for Ireland;

Far from his succour, from the king, from all
That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st him;
Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,
Absolv'd him with an axe.



Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,

Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.


O, such a day

So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won,
Came not, till now, to dignify the times,
Since Cæsar's fortunes.

Thus far our fortune keeps an onward course,
And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory.

Now the time is come,
That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest,
And let her head fall into England's lap.

Which is the villain?


Let me see his eyes:

That when I note another man like him,

I may avoid him.

Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;

Thy school-days, frightful, desperate, wild, and furious; Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and venturous! Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody.

Thy currish spirit

Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human slaughter,
Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet,
And, whilst thou lay'st in thy unhallow'd dam,
Infus'd itself in thee: for thy, desires

Are wolfish, bloody, starv'd, and ravenous.

There's ne'er a villain, dwelling in all Denmark,
But he's an arrant knave.


How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do; Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike

As if we had them not.

Forgive me this my virtue:

For, in the fatness of these pursy times,
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg;
Yea, curb, and woo, for leave to do him good.

I never did repent for doing good,

Nor shall not now.

I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind;
And would, my father had left me no more!
For all the rest is held at such a rate,
As brings a thousand fold more care to keep,
Than in possession any jot of pleasure.



A sceptre, snatch'd with an unruly hand
Must be as boist❜rously maintain'd as gain'd.

For though usurpers sway the rule awhile,
Yet heavens are just, and time suppresseth wrongs.

Thou hast under-wrought his lawful king,
Cut off the sequence of posterity,
Out-faced infant state, and done a rape
Upon the maiden virtue of the crown.

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