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Page 191 - Sir, I desire you do me right and justice ; And to bestow your pity on me : for I am a most poor woman, and a stranger, Born out of your dominions ; having here No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance Of equal friendship and proceeding.
Page 136 - Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host. That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart; his passport shall be made And crowns for convoy put into his purse: We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us.
Page 304 - I'll show. And wilt thou shew no more, quoth he, Than doth thy duty bind ? I well perceive thy love is small, When as no more I find. Henceforth I banish thee my court, Thou art no child of mine ; Nor any part of this my realm By favour shall be thine. Thy elder sisters...
Page 306 - He made his answer then; In what I did let me be made Example to all men. I will return again, quoth he, Unto my Ragan's court; She will not use me thus, I hope, But in a kinder sort.
Page 167 - Murder her brothers, and then marry her! Uncertain way of gain ! But I am in So far in blood, that sin will pluck on sin.
Page 228 - From his cradle He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty and sour to them that loved him not ; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer...
Page 305 - Nay, one she thought too much for him: So took she all away, In hope that in her court, good king, He would no longer stay. Am I rewarded thus, quoth he.
Page 215 - Sir, forasmuch as they be strangers, and can speak no English, they have desired me to declare unto your Grace thus; they, having understanding of this your triumphant banquet, where was assembled such a number of excellent fair dames, could do no less, under the supportation of your good Grace, but to repair hither to view as well their incomparable beauty, as for to accompany them at mum-chance, and then after to dance with them, and so to have of them acquaintance.
Page 307 - Grew frantick mad ; for in his mind He bore the wounds of woe : ' Which made him rend his milk-white locks, And tresses from his head, And all with blood bestain his...