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Nay, Sir Nicholas, Let it alone; my state now will but mock me. When I came hither, I was lord high constable And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun: Yet I am richer than my base accusers, That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it; And with ...
Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you As I would be forgiven: I forgive all; There cannot be those numberless offences 'Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with: no black envy Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his grace; And if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell ...
All good people, You that thus far have come to pity me, Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. I have this day received a traitor's judgment, And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness, And if I have a conscience, let it ...
My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already: I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on, By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell.
O, Nicholas Hopkins?
So, so; These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope.
It will help me nothing To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven Be done in this and all things! I obey. O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well!
Lo, you, my lord, The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish Under device and practise.
No, not a syllable: I do pronounce him in that very shape He shall appear in proof.
Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal The articles o' the combination drew As himself pleased; and they were ratified As he cried 'Thus let be': to as much end As give a crutch to the dead: but our count-cardinal Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey ...
To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch as strong As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox, Or wolf, or both,--for he is equal ravenous As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief As able to perform't; his mind and place Infecting one ...
Sir, I am thankful to you; and I'll go along By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow, Whom from the flow of gall I name not but From sincere motions, by intelligence, And proofs as clear as founts in July when We see each grain of gravel, I do ...
I'll to the king; And from a mouth of honour quite cry down This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim There's difference in no persons.
I read in's looks Matter against me; and his eye reviled Me, as his abject object: at this instant He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king; I'll follow and outstare him.
This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book Outworths a noble's blood.
Why, all this business Our reverend cardinal carried.
Every man, After the hideous storm that follow'd, was A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke Into a general prophecy; That this tempest, Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded The sudden breach on't.
O, many Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em For this great journey. What did this vanity But minister communication of A most poor issue?
Why the devil, Upon this French going out, took he upon him, Without the privity o' the king, to appoint Who should attend on him? He makes up the file Of all the gentry; for the most part such To whom as great a charge as little honour He meant ...
The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed From his ambitious finger. What had he To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder That such a keech can with his very bulk Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun And keep it from the earth.
I pray you, who, my lord?
Who did guide, I mean, who set the body and the limbs Of this great sport together, as you guess?
O, you go far.
All the whole time I was my chamber's prisoner.
An untimely ague Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, Met in the vale of Andren.
Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done Since last we saw in France?