The Gloomy Shade Of Death.

As I Love The Name Of Honour More Than I Fear Death.

Such Thanks As Fits A King's Remembrance.

King Henry: But What A Point, My Lord, Your Falcon Made, And What A Pitch She Flew Above The Rest! To See How God In All His Creatures Works! Yea, Man And Birds Are Fain Of Climbing High. Suffolk: No Marvel, An It Like Your Majesty, My Lord Protectors Hawks Do Tower So Well; They Know Their Masters Loves To Be Aloft, And Bears His Thoughts Above His Falcon's Pitch. Gloucester: My Lord, 'tis But A Base Ignoble Mind That Mounts No Higher Than A Bird Can Soar.

There's Nothing Ill Can Dwell In Such A Temple. If The Ill Spirit Have So Fair A House, Good Things Will Strive To Dwell With't

And A Man's Life's No More Than To Say "one."