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againſt Anne arms bear better blood brother Buck Buckingham Cade Cardinal Clar Clarence Clifford comes Crown dead death doth Duke Earl Edward England Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fall father fear fight firſt follow foul France friends gentle give Grace hand Haſtings hath head hear heart heav'n Henry Highneſs honour hope I'll King lady land leave live look lord Madam mean mind moſt mother muſt never night noble once peace pleaſe poor pray Prince Queen Rich Richard royal ſay SCENE ſee ſelf ſhall ſhe ſhould ſome Somerſet ſon ſoul ſpeak ſtand ſuch Suffolk ſweet tears tell thank thee theſe thine thing thoſe thou thought tongue Tower true unto Warwick whoſe wife York
336 psl. - tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.
213 psl. - With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears Such hideous cries, that with the very noise, I trembling wak'd, and, for a season after, Could not believe but that I was in hell; Such terrible impression made my dream.
366 psl. - Why, well; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience.
190 psl. - Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them...
190 psl. - That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun And descant on mine own deformity; And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
200 psl. - I'll have her, but I will not keep her long. What ! I, that kill'd her husband and his father, To take her in her heart's extremest hate ; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit withal, But the plain devil, and dissembling looks, And yet to win her, all the world to nothing ! Ha!
211 psl. - That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days : So full of dismal terror was the time.
366 psl. - This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me, and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream that must for ever hide me.