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answer arms Arthur Aumerle BAST bear better blood BOLING Bolingbroke breath brother cause character common CONST cousin crown dead death dost doth DUCH Duke earth England Enter Exeunt eyes face fair faith fall father fear Folios France French friends GAUNT give grace GREEN grief hand hast hath head hear heart heaven hold honour hour Hubert infra James Gurney keep King John King Richard Lady land leave lies live look lord majesty means mother mouth never night noble NORTH once pardon peace play present prince Quartos QUEEN rest RICH Richard royal SCENE Shakespeare shame sorrow soul speak stand supra sweet tears tell thee thine thou thought tongue true uncle wrong YORK young
Page 73 - Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bon.es.
Page 140 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me ; Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief.
Page 36 - Renowned for their deeds as far from home, For Christian service and true chivalry, As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son, This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world...
Page 73 - All murder'd: for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp...
Page 27 - All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. Teach thy necessity to reason thus ; There is no virtue like necessity.
Page 69 - Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm from an anointed king; The breath of worldly men cannot depose The deputy elected by the Lord.
Page 79 - Ah, none, but in this iron age, would do it ! The iron of itself, though heat ' red-hot, Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears, And quench his fiery indignation Even in the matter of mine innocence ; Nay, after that, consume away in rust, But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
Page 124 - Ha ! ha ! keep time : how sour sweet music is, When time is broke and no proportion kept ! So is it in the music of men's lives.
Page 83 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
Page 35 - Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands ; This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth...