The chronicles of my doing,-let me say,
'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake*
That virtue must go through. We must not stint
Our necessary actions, in the fear
To copet malicious censurers; which ever,
As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow
That is new trimm'd; but benefit no further
Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
By sick interpreters, once§ weak ones, is
Not ours, or not allow'd||; what worst, as oft,
Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up
For our best act. If we shall stand still,
In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at,
We should take root here where we sit, or sit
State statues only.
Though they be never so ridiculous,
Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd.
THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM'S PRAYER FOR THE KING.
Longer than I have time to tell his years!
Ever belov'd and loving may his rule be!
And, when old time shall lead him to his end,
Goodness and he fill up one monument!
DEPENDENTS NOT TO BE TOO MUCH TRUSTED BY GREAT MEN.
This from a dying man receive as certain:
Where you are liberal of your loves, and counsels,
Be sure, you be not loose: for those you make friends,
And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
Like water from ye, never found again
But where they mean to sink ye.
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre;
Of her, that loves him with that excellence
That angels love good men with; even of her
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
Will bless the king.
THE BLESSINGS OF A LOW STATION.
'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.
QUEEN KATHARINE'S SPEECH TO HER HUSBAND.
Alas, sir,
In what have I offended you? what cause
Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure,
That thus you should proceed to put me off,
And take your good grace from me? Heaven wit-
I have been to you a true and humble wife, [ness,
At all times to your will conformable:
Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,
Yea, subject to your countenance: glad, or sorry, As I saw it inclin'd. When was the hour,
I ever contradicted your desire,
Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends
Have I not strove to love, although I knew
He were mine enemy? what friend of mine
That had to him deriv'd your anger, did I
Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice
He was from thence discharg'd? Sir, call to mind
That I have been your wife, in this obedience,
Upward of twenty years, and have been blest
With many children by you: If, in the course
And process of this time, you can report,
And prove it too, against mine honour aught,
My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty,
Against your sacred person, in God's name,
Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
To the sharpest kind of justice.
QUEEN KATHARINE'S SPEECH TO CARDINAL WOLSEY.
You are meek, and humble mouth'd;
You sign your place and calling, in full seeming*,
With meekness and humility: but your heart
Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.
You have, by fortune, and his highness' favours,
Gone slightly o'er low steps; and now are mounted
Where powers are your retainers: and your
words,
Domestics to you, serve your will, as 't please.
Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you,
You tender more your person's honour, than
Your high profession spiritual.
KING HENRY'S CHARACTER OF QUEEN KATHARINE.
That man i'the world, who shall report he has
A better wife, let him in nought be trusted,
For speaking false in that; Thou art, alone
(If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government,― * Appearance.
Obeying in commanding,—and thy parts Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out*), The queen of earthly queens.
QUEEN KATHARINE ON HER OWN MERIT.
Have I liv'd thus long-(let me speak myself, Since virtue finds no friends),—a wife, a true one? A woman (I dare say, without vain glory), Never yet branded with suspicion?
Have I with all my full affections
Still met the king? lov'd him next heaven? obey'd
Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him?
Almost forgot my prayers to content him?
And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords.
Bring me a constant woman to her husband,
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure;
And to that woman, when she has done most,
Yet will I add an honour,—a great patience.
QUEEN KATHARINE COMPARED TO A LILY.
That once was mistress of the field, and flourish'd, I'll hang my head, and perish.
The hearts of princes kiss obedience,
So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits,
They swell, and grow as terrible as storms.
OUTWARD EFFECTS OF HORROR.
Some strange commotion
*Speak out thy merits.
+ Served him with superstitious attention.
Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts;
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,
Then lays his finger on his temple; straight,
Springs out into fast gait*; then, stops again,
Strikes his breast hard; and anon, he casts
His eye against the moon: in most strange postures
We have seen him set himself.
Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and
Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty,
As doth a rock against the chiding flood,
Should the approach of this wild river break,
And stand unshaken yours.
EXTERNAL EFFECTS OF ANGER.
What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it? He parted frowning from me, as if ruin Leap'd from his eyes: So looks the chafed lion Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him; Then makes him nothing.
I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness;
And, from that full meridian of my glory,
I haste now to my setting: I shall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man see me more.
THE VICISSITUDES OF LIFE.
So farewell to the little good you bear me. Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man; To-day he puts forth
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