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I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm?
Was he not born of woman? The spirits, that know
All mortal consequents, pronounc'd me thus:
Fear not, Macbeth! no man, that's born of woman,
Shall e'er have power on thee.-Then fly, false thanes,
And mingle with the English epicures!
The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never saga with doubt, nor shake with fear.
Enter a Servant.

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon!
Where got'st thou that goose look?

Serv. There is ten thousand-
Macb. Geese, villain?

Serv. Soldiers, sir.

Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, Thou lily-liver'd boy! What soldiers, patch? Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, wheyface? Serv. The English force, so please you. Macb. Take thy face hence! Seyton! - I am sick at heart,

When I behold-Seyton, I say! This push
Will cheer me ever, or disscat me now.

I have liv'd long enough: my way of life

Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf.
And that, which should accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not.
Seyton!-

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SCENE IV. Country near Dunsinane: A wood in

view.

Enter, with drum and colours, MALCOLM, old SIWARD,
and his Son, MACDUIF, MENTETH, CATHNESS, ANGUS,
LENOX, ROSSE, and Soldiers marching.
Mal. Cousins, I hope, the days are near at hand,
That chambers will be safe.
Ment. We doubt it nothing.

Siw. What wood is this before us?
Ment. The wood of Birnam.

Mal. Let every soldier hew him down a bough,
And bear't before him! thereby shall we shadow
The numbers of our host, and make discovery
Err in report of us.

Sold. It shall be done.

Siw. We learn no other, but the confident tyrant Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure Our setting down before't.

Mal. 'Tis his main hope:

For where there is advantage to be given,
Both more and less hath given him the revolt;
And none serve with him but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too.

Macd. Let our just censures

Attend the true event, and put we on
Industrious soldiership!

Siw. The time approaches,

That will with due decision make us know,
Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate;
What we shall say we have, and what we owe.

But certain issue strokes must arbitrate:
Towards which, advance the war. [Exeunt, marching.

SCENE V.-Dunsinane. Within the castle. Enter, with drums and colours, MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers.

Mach. Hang out our banners on the outward walls! The cry is still, They come. Our castle's strength Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie, Till famine, and the ague, eat them up! Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours,

Hang those that talk of fear!-Give me mine armour! - We might have met them dareful, beard to beard, How does your patient, doctor?

Doct.Not so sick, my lord,

As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies, That keep her from her rest.

Macb. Cure her of that!

Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd,
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
Race out the written troubles of the brain,
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart?

Doct. Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.

Macb. Throw physic to the dogs! I'll none of it. Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff!. Seyton, send out! -Doctor, the thanes fly from me!Come, sir, despatch. If thou could'st, doctor, cast The water of my land, find her disease, And purge it to a sound and pristine health, I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud again. — Pull't off, I say! What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug, Would scour these English hence? -Hearest thou of

them?

-

Doct. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation Makes us hear something.

Macb. Bring it after me!

And beat them backward home. What is that noise? [A cry within, of Women.

Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.
Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears.
The time has been, my senses would have cool'd
To hear a night-shriek, and my fell of hair
Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir
As life were in't. I have supp'd full with horrors;
Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts,
Cannot once start me. - Wherefore was that cry?
Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead.

Mach. She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Enter a Messenger.

Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. Mess. Gracious my lord,

I shall report that which I say I saw,

But know not, how to do it.

I will not be afraid of death and bane, Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.

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Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, Profit again should hardly draw me here.

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Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the hill,

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To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,
That lies like truth: Fear not, till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane; - and now a wood
Comes toward Dunsinane! - Arm, arm, and out!-
If this, which he avouches, does appear,
There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here.
I'gin to be a-weary of the sun,

And wish the estate of the world were now undone.
Ring the alarum bell! - Blow, wind! come, wrack!
At least we'll die with harness on our back. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI. The same. A plain before the castle.
Enter, with drums and colours, MALCOLM, old SIWARD,
MACDUFF, etc. and their army, with boughs.
Mal. Now near enough; your leavy screens throw
down,

And show like those you are! You, worthy uncle,
Shall, with my cousin, your right noble son,
Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff, and we,
Shall take upon's what else remains to do,
According to our order.

Siw. Fare you well!

Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,
Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.

Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,

Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death! [Exeunt. Alarums continued.

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Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes Do better upon them.

Re-enter MACDUFF. Macd. Turn, hell-hound, turn!

Macb. Of all men else I have avoided thee: But get thee back, my soul is too much charg'd With blood of thine already.

Macd. I have no words,

My voice is in my sword, thou bloodier villain, Than terms can give thee out! - [They fight.

Macb. Thou losest labour:

AS easy may'st thou the intrenchant air
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests!
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed:

I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.

Macd. Despair thy charm,

And let the angel, whom thou still hast serv'd,
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ripp'd.

Macb. Accursed be that tongue, that tells me so,
For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
That palter with us in a double sense,
And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,

That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope. - I'll not fight with thee.
Macd. Then yield thee, coward,

And live to be the show and gaze o'the time.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and underwrit,
Here may you see the tyrant.

Mach. I'll not yield,

To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
And to be baited with the rabble's curse.

Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born,

Yo. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter Yet I will try the last. Before my body

name,

Than any is in hell.

Macb. My name's Macbeth.

I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff,
And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough!
[Exeunt, fighting.

Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce a Retreat. Flourish. Re-enter, with drum and colours, title

More hateful to mine ear.

Macb. No, nor more fearful.

Yo.Siw. Thouliest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword I'll prove the lie, thou speak'st.

[They fight, and young Siward is slain. Macb. Thou wast born of woman. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Brandish'd by man, that's of a woman born.

Alarums. Enter MACDUFF.

[Exit.

Macd. That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face!

If thou be'st slain, and with no stroke of mine,
My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.

I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms
Are hir'd to bear their staves; either thou, Macbeth,
Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge,

I sheath again undeeded. There thou should'st be;
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune!
And more I beg not.

MALCOLM, Old SIWARD, ROSSE, LENOX, ANGUS, CATHNESS, MENTETH, and Soldiers.

Mal. I would, the friends, we miss, werè safe arriv’d.
Siw. Some must go off: and yet by these I see,
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
Mal. Macduffis missing, and your noble son.
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.

Siw. Then he is dead?

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King Jons.

KING JOHN.

Persons of the Drama.

Prince HENRY, his son; afterwards king Henry III.
ARTHUR, duke of Bretagne, son of Geffrey, late duke
of Bretagne, the elder brother of King John.
WILLIAM MARESHALL, earl of Pembroke.
GEFFREY FITZ-PETER, earl of Essex, chief justiciary
of England.

WILLIAM LONGSWORD, earl of Salisbury.
ROBERT BIGOT, earl of Norfolk.

HUBERT DE BURGH, chamberlain to the king.

ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE, son of Sir Robert Faulconbridge.

PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE, his half-brother, bastard son toking Richard the first.

JAMES GURNEY, Servant to lady Faulconbridge.
PETER of Pomfret, a prophet.

PHILIP, king of France.
LEWIS, the dauphin.
Archduke of Austria.

Cardinal PANDULPH, the Pope's legate.
MELUN, a French lord.

CHATILLOS, ambassador from France to king John. ELINOR, the widow of king Henry II. and mother of king John.

CONSTANCE, mother to Arthur.

BLANCH, daughter to Alphonso, king of Castile, and niece to king John.

Lady FAULCONBRIDGE, mother to the Bastard and Robert Faulconbridge.

Lords, Ladies, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Atten

dants.

SCENE, sometimes in England, and sometimes in France.

АСТ

-

I.

SCENE I.-Northampton. A Room of state in the palace.

Enter King JoHN, Queen ELINOR, PEMBROKE, ESSEX, SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON.

K. John. Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with us?

Chat. Thus, after greeting, speaks the king of France, In my behaviour, to the majesty,

The borrow'd majesty of England here.

Eli. A strange beginning! - borrow'd majesty!
K.John. Silence, good mother; hear the embassy!
Chat. Philip of France, in right and true behalf
Of thy deceased brother Gellrey's son,
Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim
To this fair island, and the territories;

To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine:
Desiring thee to lay aside the sword,
Which sways usurpingly these several titles,
And put the same into young Arthur's hand,
Thy nephew, and right royal sovereign.

K. John. What follows, if we disallow of this?

Chat. The proud contronl of fierce and bloody war, To enforce these rights, so forcibly withheld.

K. John. Here have we war for war, and blood for blood,

Controlment for controlment. So answer France. Chat. Then take my king's defiance from my mouth, The furthest limit of my embassy!

K.John. Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace! Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France; For ere thou canst report, I will be there, The thunder of my cannon shall be heard. So, hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath, And sullen presage of your own decay!An honourable conduct let him have: Pembroke, look to't! Farewell, Chatillon!

[Exeunt Chatillon and Pembroke.
Eli. What now, my son? have I not ever said,
How that ambitious Constance would not cease,
Till she had kindled France, and all the world,
Upon the right and party of her son?

This might have been prevented and made whole
With very easy arguments of love,

Which now the manage of two kingdoms must
With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.

K. John. Our strong possession, and our right, for us. Eli. Your strong possession much more, than your right;

you,

|(As I have heard my father speak himself,}) When this same lusty gentleman was got. Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd whis-His lands to me, and took it, on his death,

Or else it must go wrong with
and me.
So much my conscience whispers in your ear;
Which none but heaven, and you, and I, shall hear.
Enter the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, who
pers ESSEX.

Essex. My liege, here is the strangest controversy,
Come from the country to be judg'd by you,
That e'er I heard. Shall I produce the men?
K. John. Let them approach!— [Exit Sheriff.
Our abbies and our priories shall pay
Re-enter Sheriff, with ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE, and
PHILIP, his bastard brother,

This expedition's charge. What men are you?
Bast. Your faithful subject I, a gentleman,
Born in Northamptonshire, and eldest son,
As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge;
A soldier, by the honour-giving hand
Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field.
K. John. What art thou?

Rob. The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge.
K. John. Is that the elder, and art thou the heir?
You came not of one mother then, it seems..

Bast. Most certain of one mother, mighty king,
That is well known; and, as I think, one father:
But, for the certain knowledge of that truth,

I put you o'er to heaven, and to my mother;
Of that I doubt, as all men's children may.

That this, my mother's son, was none of his;
And, if he were, he came into the world
Full fourteen weeks before the course of time.
Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine,
My father's land, as was my father's will!

K. John. Sirrah, your brother is legitimate;
Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him,
And, if she did play false, the fault was hers;
Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands,
That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother,
Who, as you say, took pains to get this son,
Had of your father claim'd this son for his?
In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept
This calf, bred from his cow, from all the world;
In sooth, he might: then, if he were my brother's,
My brother might not claim him; nor your father,
Being none of his, refuse him. This concludes,
My mother's son did get your father's heir;
Your father's heir must have your father's land.
Rob. Shall then my father's will be of no force,
To dispossess that child, which is not his?
Bast. Of no more force to disposses me, sir,
Than was his will to get me, as I think.

Eli. Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy Eli. Whether hadst thou rather: be a Faulcon

mother,

And wound her honour with this diffidence.

Bast. I, madam? no, I have no reason for it;
That is my brother's plea, and none ofmine;
The which if he can prove, 'a pops me out
At least from fair five hundred pounds a-year.
Heaven guard my mother's honour, and my land!
K. John. A good blunt fellow! Why, being youn-
ger born,

Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance?

Bast. I know not why, except to get the land.
But once he slander'd me with bastardy:
But whe'r I be as true begot, or no,
That still I lay upon my mother's head;
But, that I am as well begot, my liege,

(Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!)
Compare our faces, and be judge yourself!
If old sir Robert did beget us both,
And were our father, and this son like him ·
O, old sir Robert, father, on my knee
I give heaven thanks, I was not like to thee.

--

bridge,

And, like thy brother, to enjoy thy land;
Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion,
Lord of thy presence, and no land beside?

Bast. Madam, an if my brother had my shape,
And I had his, sir Robert his, like him:
And if my legs were two such riding-rods,

My arms such eel-skins stuff'd, my face so thin,
That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose,

Lest men should say, Look, where three- farthings
goes!

And, to his shape, were heir to all this land,
'Would I might never stir from off this place,
I'd give it every foot to have this face;

I would not be sir Nob in any case.

Eli. I like thee well. Wilt thou forsake thy fortune, Bequeath thy lan to him, and follow me?

I am a soldier, and now bound to France.

Bast. Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance:
Your face hath got five hundred pounds a year;
Yet sell your face for five pence, and 'tis dear.-

K.John. Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us Madam, I'll follow you unto the death.

here!

Eli. He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion's face,

The accent of his tongue affecteth him.
Do you not read some tokens of my son
In the large composition of this man?

K. John. Mine eye hath well examined his parts,
And finds them perfect Richard. Sirrah, speak,
What doth move you to claim your brother's land?
Bast. Because he hath a half-face, like my father;
With that half-face would he have all my land:
A half-fac'd groat five hundred pound a year!
Rob. My gracious liege, when that my father liv'd,
Your brother did employ my father much. -

Bast. Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land;
Your tale must be, how he employ'd my mother.
Rob. And once dispatch'd him in au embassy
To Germany, there, with the emperor,
To treat of high affairs touching that time.
The advantage of his absence took the king,
And in the mean time sojourn'd at my father's
Where how he did prevail, I shame to speak.
But truth is truth; large lengths of seas and shores
Between my father and my mother lay,

Eli. Nay, I would have you go before me thither.
Bast. Our country manners give our betters way.
K. John. What is thy name?

whose form

Bast. Philip, my liege; so is my name begun;
Philip, good old sir Robert's wife's eldest son.
K. John. From henceforth bear his name,
thou bear'st!
Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great;
Arise sir Richard, and Plantagenet!

Bast. Brother, by the mother's side, give me your
hand;

My father gave me honour, yours gave land;—
Now blessed be the hour, by night or day,
When I was got, sir Robert was away!

Eli. The very spirit of Plantagenet!

I am thy grandame, Richard; call me so!

Bast. Madam, by chance, but not by truth: what though?

Something about, a little from the right,

In at the window, or else o'er the hatch:
Who dares not stir by day, must walk by night;
And have is have, however men do catch:
Near or far off, well won is still well shot:

And I am I, howe'er I was begot.

KJohn. Go, Faulconbridge; now hast thou thy desire, A landless knight makes thee a landed 'squire. Come, madam, and come, Richard! we must speed For France, for France; for it is more than need. Bast. Brother, adieu! Good fortune come to thee! For thou wast got i'the way of honesty:

What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?
Bast. Knight,knight, good mother! -Basilisco-like:
What! I am dubb'd; I have it on my shoulder.
But, mother, I am not sir Robert's son;
I have disclaim'd sir Robert, and my land;
Legitimation, name, and all is gone:

Then, good my mother, let me know my father!
[Exeunt all but the Bastard. Some proper man, I hope! Who was it, mother?

A foot of honour better than I was ;
But many a many foot of land the worse.
Well, now can I make any Joan a lady :-

:

Lady F. Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge?
Bast. As faithfully, as I deny the devil.

Lady F.King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father;

Good den, sir Richard, God-a-mercy, fellow; - By long and gehement suit I was seduc'd

And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter: For new-made honour doth forget men's names; "Tis to respective, and too sociable,

For your conversion. Now your traveller -
He and his tooth-pick at my worship's mess;
And when my knightly stomach is suffic'd,
Why then I suck my teeth, and catechise
My picked man of countries:- My dear sir,
(Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin,)
Ishall beseech you - That is question now;
And then comes answer like an ABC-book:
O sir, says answer, at your best command;
At your employment; at your service, sir:
No, sir, says question, I, sweet sir, at yours:
And so, ere answer knows, what question would,
(Saving in dialogue of compliment;
And talking of the Alps, and Apennines,
The Pyrenean, and the river Po,)

It draws toward supper in conclusion so.
But this is worshipful society,

And fits the mounting spirit, like myself:
For he is but a bastard to the time,
That doth not smack of observation;
(And so am I, whether I smack, or no ;)
And not alone in habit and device,
Exterior form, outward accoutrement,
But from the inward motion to deliver

Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth:
Which, though I will not practise to deceive,
Yet, to avoid deccit, I mean to learn;

For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising.-
But who comes in such haste, in riding robes ?
What woman-post is this? hath she no husband,
That will take pains to blow a horn before her?

Enter Lady FAULCONBRIDGE and JAMES GURNEY.
O me! it is my mother.-How now, good lady?
What brings you here to court so hastily?

Lady F. Where is that slave, thy brother? where is he?

That holds in chase mine honour up and down?
Bast. My brother Robert? old sir Robert's son?
Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man?
Is it sir Robert's son, that you seek so?

Lady F. Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy,
Sir Robert's son. Why scorn'st thou at sir Robert?
He is sir Robert's son; and so art thou.

Bast. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a while? Gur. Good leave, good Philip!

Bast. Philip? - sparrow!-James, There's toys abroad; anon I'll tell thee more.

[Exit Gurney.

Madam, I was not old sir Robert's son.
Sir Robert might have eat his part in me
Upon Good-Friday, and ne'er broke his fast:
Sir Robert could do well; Marry, (to confess!)
Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it;

We know his handy-work.-Therefore, good mother,
To whom am I beholden for these limbs?
Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.

Lady F. Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, That for thine own gain should'st defend mine honour?

To make room for him in my husband's bed:
Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge!-
Thou art the issue of my dear offence,
Which was so strongly urg'd, past my defence.
Bast. Now, by this light, were I to get again,
Madam, I would not wish a better father.
Some sins do bear their privilege on earth,
And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly:
Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, -
Subjected tribute to commanding love,
Against whose fury and unmatched force
The awless lion could not wage the fight,
Norkeep his princely heart from Richard's hand.
He, that perforce robs lions of their hearts,
May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother,
With all my heart I thank thee for my father!
Who lives and dares but say, thou didst not well,
When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell.
Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin;
And they shall say, when Richard me begot,
If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin.
Who says, it was, he lies; I say, 'twas not. [Exeunt.

А СТ II.

SCENE I. -France. Before the walls of Angiers.
Enter, on one side, the Archduke of Austria; and for-
ces; on the other, PHILIP, king of France, and for-
ces; LEWIS, CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and Attendants.
Lew. Before Angiers well met, brave Austria!—
Arthur, that great fore-runner of thy blood,
Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart,
And fought the holy wars in Palestine,
By this brave duke came early to his grave:
And, for amends to his posterity,
At our importance hither is he come,
To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf,
And to rebuke the usurpation

Of thy unnatural uncle, English John.
Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither!
Arth. God shall forgive you Coeur-de-lion's death,
The rather, that you give his offspring life,
Shadowing their right under your wings of war.
I give you welcome with a powerless hand,
But with a heart full of unstained love.
Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke!
Lew. A noble boy! Who would not do thee right?
Aust. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss,
As seal to this indenture of my love,
That to my home I will no more return,
Till Angiers, and the right, thou hast in France,
Together with that pale, that white-fac'd shore,
Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides,
And coops from other lands her islanders,
Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main,
That water-walled bulwark, still secure
And confident from foreign purposes,
Even till that utmost corner of the west
Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy,
Will I not think of home, but follow arms.
Const. O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks,

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