Again, in Richard's affliction, he says:—
As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well graced actor leaves the stage,
Are idly bent on him who enters next;
Thinking his prattle to be tedious,
Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes
Did scowl on Richard: no man cried, God save him.
Again, describing a soldier (Shakespeare describes everything successfully), he says:—
Not fierce and terrible,
Only in thy strokes; but with thy grim looks
Thou mad'st thy enemies shake, as if the world
Were feverous, and did tremble.
Again,—
Let not the world see fear and blank distrust
Govern the motion of a kingly eye.
When speaking of war, he says:—
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility;
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect,
Let it pry thro' the portage of the head,
Like a brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it,
As fearfully as doth a galled rock,
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base.
Describing sympathy, he says:—
Passion, I see is catching, for mine eyes
Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine.
The magnificent sublimity of thought in Brackenbury's Dream contains so much of the grand, that it may be referred to, especially as he says:—
What sights of ugly death within mine eyes—
Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
