Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother.
Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother.
Good mother, do not marry me to yond fool.
Mother, for love of grace,
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul
That not your trespass but my madness speaks.
Silence, good mother; hear the embassy.
There shall your master have a thousand loves,
A mother, and a mistress, and a friend,
A phoenix, captain, and an enemy,
A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,
A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear;
His humble ambition, proud humility,
His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,
His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world
Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms
That blinking Cupid gossips.
DUCHESS OF YORK God bless thee, and put meekness in thy mind, Love, charity, obedience, and true duty GLOUCESTER Aside Amen and make me die a good old man That is the butt-end of a mothers blessing I marvel why her grace did leave it out.
Father and mother is man and wife; man and wife is
one flesh; and so, my mother.
Think with thyself
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither; since that thy sight, which should
Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,
Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow,
Making the mother, wife, and child, to see
The son, the husband, and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out.
And brief, good mother; for I am in haste.
Which means she to deceive, father or mother?
Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another,
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
Venus salutes him with this fair good-morrow;
"O thou clear god, and patron of all light,
From whom each lamp and shining star doth borrow
The beauteous influence that makes him bright,
There lives a son that suck'd an earthly mother,
May lend thee light, as thou dost lend to other.
Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu;
My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet!
A grandam's name is little less in love
Than is the doating title of a mother;
They are as children but one step below,
Even of your metal, of your very blood;
Of all one pain, save for a night of groans
Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow.
His eldest sister, Anne,
My mother, being heir unto the crown,
Married Richard Earl of Cambridge, who was
To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third's fifth son, son.
O wonderful son, that can so stonish a mother!
Then, good my mother, let me know my father-
Some proper man, I hope.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories