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To: Bucky Katt who wrote (42432)	4/23/2010 9:38:11 AM
From: joseffy	Respond to of 48463

HOTSPUR: But I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat and trimly dressed, Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reaped Showed like a stubble land at harvest home. He was perfumèd like a milliner, And twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet box, which ever and anon He gave his nose, and took't away again; Who therewith angry, when it next came there, Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talked; And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse Betwixt the wind and his nobility. With many holiday and lady terms He questioned me, amongst the rest demanded My prisoners in your majesty's behalf. I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, To be so pestered with a popingay, Out of my grief and my impatience Answered neglectingly, I know not what-- He should, or he should not; for he made me mad To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman Of guns and drums and wounds -- God save the mark! -- And telling me the sovereignest thing on earth Was parmacity for an inward bruise, And that it was great pity, so it was, This villainous saltpetre should be digged Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good fellow had destroyed So cowardly, and but for these vile guns, He would himself have been a soldier. HENRY IV, PART I

To: Bucky Katt who wrote (42432)	4/23/2010 9:40:44 AM
From: joseffy	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 48463

All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players, They have their exits and entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. Then, the whining schoolboy with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd, With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws, and modern instances, And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side, His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide, For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again towards childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. from Shakespeare's As You Like It