Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were,
His equal had awaked them, and his honour,
to itself, knew the true minute when
Exception bid him speak, and at this time
His tongue obey'd his hand: who
were below him
He used as creatures of another place
And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks,
them proud of his humility,
In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man
Might be a copy to these younger
Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now
But goers backward.
His good remembrance, sir,
Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb;
So in approof lives not his
As in your royal speech.
Would I were with him! He would always say--
Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words
not in ears, but grafted them,
To grow there and to bear,--'Let me not live,'--
This his good melancholy
On the catastrophe and heel of pastime,
When it was out,--'Let me not live,' quoth he,
flame lacks oil, to be the snuff
Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses
All but new things disdain; whose
Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies
Expire before their fashions.' This he
I after him do after him wish too,
Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home,
I quickly were dissolved
from my hive,
To give some labourers room.
You are loved, sir:
They that least lend it you shall lack you first.
I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, count,
Since the physician at your father's died?
He was much famed.
Some six months since, my lord.
If he were living, I would try him yet.
Lend me an arm; the rest have worn me out
With several applications; nature
Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count;
My son's no dearer.
Thank your majesty.
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