And bestial appetite in change of lust; Which stretch'd unto their servants, daughters, wives, Even where his raging eye, or savage heart, Of that insatiate Edward, noble York, Where you shall find me well accompanied, K. RICHARD III., A. 3, s. 5. DANGER OF COQUETTING WITH EVIL. I Do not like her. She doth think, she has A drug of such damn'd nature: Those, she has, Then afterward up higher; but there is No danger in what show of death it makes, To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool'd CYMBELINE, A. 1, s. 6. DAWN OF LIGHT. Look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill. HAMLET, A. 1, s. 1. DEARLY IS SUCCESS BOUGHT BY OVER MENTAL ANXIETY. AND wherefore should these good news make me sick? Will fortune never come with both hands full, K. HENRY IV., PART II., A. 4, s. 4. DEATH. THIS Counsellor Is now most still, most secret, and most grave, Who was in life a foolish prating knave. HAMLET, A. 3, s. 4. DEATH NOT TERRIBLE WHEN ROSSE. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt: He only liv'd but till he was a man; The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd In the unshrinking station where he fought, But like a man he died. SIWARD. Then he is dead? ROSSE. Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then SIW. Had he his hurts before? ROSSE. Ay, on the front. SIW. Why, then, God's soldier be he! Had I as many sons as I have hairs, I would not wish them to a fairer death: And so his knell is knoll'd. MALCOLM. He's worth more sorrow, He's worth no more; And that I'll spend for him. SIW. They say, he parted well, and paid his score: MACBETH, A. 5, s. 7. DEATH OF INNOCENCE AND BEAUTY. SALISBURY. This is the prison: What is he lies here: [Seeing ARTHUR. O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty! The earth had not a hole to hide this deed. Murder, as hating what himself hath done, Doth lay it open, to urge on revenge. beheld, Have you Or have you read, or heard? or could you think? Or do you almost think, although you see, Form such another? This is the very top, To the yet unbegotten sin of times; BASTARD. It is a damned and a bloody work; The graceless action of a heavy hand, : SAL. If that it be the work of any hand? Nor conversant with ease and idleness, KING JOHN, A. 4, s. 3. DEATH OFTEN NEARER THE STILL going? This is a lord! O noble misery! 'Tis strange, he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds, Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we That draw his knives i'the war. CYMBELINE, A. 5, s. 3. DEATH OF THE AMBITIOUS MAN. WARWICK. Ah, who is nigh? come to me, friend or foe, And tell me, who is victor, York, or Warwick? That I must yield my body to the earth, |