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O For a Muse of Fire, that would ascend The brightest Heauen of Inuention: A Kingdome for a Stage, Princes to Act, And Monarchs to behold the swelling Scene. Then should the Warlike Harry, like himselfe, Assume the Port of Mars, and at his heeles (Leasht in, like Hounds) should Famine, Sword, and Fire Crouch for employment. But pardon, Gentles all:
As by your high Imperiall Maiesty, I had in charge at my depart for France, As Procurator to your Excellence, To marry Princes Margaret for your Grace;
Henry VI, part 2
Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with us? / Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France In my behaviour to the majesty, The borrowed majesty, of England here.
So shaken as we are, so wan with care, Find we a time for frighted peace to pant And breathe short-winded accents of new broils To be commenc'd in stronds afar remote. No more the thirsty entrance of this soil Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood.
Henry IV, part 1
Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster, / Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son, Here to make good the boisterous late appeal, Which then our leisure would not let us hear, Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
I Come no more to make you laugh, Things now, That beare a Weighty, and a Serious Brow, Sad, high, and working, full of State and Woe: Such Noble Scoenes, as draw the Eye to flow We now present. Those that can Pitty, heere May (if they thinke it well) let fall a Teare, The Subiect will deserue it.
Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! Comets, importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky And with them scourge the bad revolting stars That have consented unto Henry's death! King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long! England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.
Henry VI, part 1
Robert of Artois, banished though thou be From France, thy native Country, yet with us Thou shalt retain as great a Seigniorie: For we create thee Earl of Richmond here. And now go forwards with our pedigree: Who next succeeded Philip le Bew?
Open your ears; for which of you will stop The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? I, from the orient to the drooping west, Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold The acts commenced on this ball of earth.
Henry IV, part 2
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
I wonder how the King escap’d our hands. / While we pursu’d the horsemen of the north, He slily stole away and left his men;