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K. HENRY. Thou dost belie him, Percy; thou beliest
He never did encounter with Glendower;
He durst as well have met the devil alone,
Art not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth
Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,
[Exit K. Henry.
HOT. And if the devil come and roar for them,
I will not send them. I will after straight,
And tell him so; for I will ease my heart,
Altho' it be with hazard of my head.
NORTH. What, drunk with choler? Stay and pause awhile.
HOT. Not speak of Mortimer?
Yes, I will speak of him ; and let my soul
NORTH. My son, farewell! No further go in this
Where you and Douglas, and our powers at once
To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
HOT. Father, adieu! Oh, let the hours be short, Till fields, and blows, and groans applaud our sport.
SIR GILES OVERREACH AND LOVALL.
OVER. To my wish; we are private.
With her, my lord, comes to you; nor shall you have
I live too long, since every year I'll add
OVER. You shall have reason
To think me such. How do you like this seat?
Lov. 'Tis a wholesome air
And well built pile; and she that's mistress of it
OVER. She the mistress !
may be so for a time: but let my lord
Say only that he likes it, and would have it,
I say, ere long 'tis his.
Lov. Impossible !
OVER. You do conclude too fast, not knowing me, Nor the engines that I work by. 'Tis not alone
The lady Allworth's lands, for those once Wellborn's (As by her dotage on him I know they will be,) Shall soon be mine; but point out any man's In all the shire, and say they lie convenient, And useful for your lordship, and once more say aloud, they are yours.
Lov. I dare not own
What's by unjust and cruel means extorted,
OVER. You run, my lord, no hazard.
Nor can my actions, though condemned for ill,
Shall e'er be sullied with one taint or spot
The scourge of prodigals, want shall never find you.
OVER. Yes, as rocks are,
When foamy billows split themselves against
When wolves, with hunger pinched, howl at her bright
I am of a solid temper, and, like these,
Steer on, a constant course: with my own sword,
Or the least sting of conscience.
Lov. I admire
The toughness of your nature.
OVER. "Tis for you,
My lord, and for my daughter, I am marble;
In little, I enjoy more true delight
In my arrival to my wealth through these dark
And crooked ways, than you shall e'er take pleasure
My haste commands me hence; in one word, therefore,
Lov. I hope that it is past doubt now.
OVER. Then rest secure; not the hate of all mankind
Nor fear of what can fall on me hereafter,
Shall make me study aught but your advancement
Dispute not my religion nor my faith;
Though I am borne thus headlong by my will,
Is no more shaken than Olympus is
THE NATURE OF TRUE ELOQUENCE.
WHEN public bodies are to be addressed on momentous occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing is valuable in speech, farther than it is connected with high intellectual and moral endowments. Clearness, force, and earnestness, are the qualities which produce conviction. quence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labour and learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire after it; they cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like the out-breaking of a fountain from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught in the schools, the