Shakespeare's King Henry the eighth, a historical play, revised by J.P. Kemble; and now first publ. as it is acted at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden, Volume 226

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Page 47 - A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it. Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me. Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : By that sin fell the angels...
Page 47 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd me Out of thy honest truth to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell ; And, — when I am forgotten, as I shall be ; And sleep in dull cold marble...
Page 49 - He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading; Lofty, and sour, to them that lov"d him not; But to those men that sought him, sweet as summer: And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin) yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely.
Page 45 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope ; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Page 49 - Noble madam, Men's evil manners live in brass, their virtues We write in water. May it please your highness To hear me speak his good now ? Kath.
Page 63 - Her own shall bless her: Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, And hang their heads with sorrow: Good grows with her : In her days every man shall eat in safety, Under his own vine, what he plants; and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours...
Page 49 - Oxford ! one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it ; The other, though unfinished, yet so famous, So excellent in art, and still so rising, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
Page 47 - Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues; be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, 0 Cromwell!
Page 46 - Long in his highness' favour, and do justice For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones, When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings, May have a tomb of orphans
Page 47 - Pr'ythee, lead me in : There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny : 'tis the king's : my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.

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