Bothwell: A Tragedy (Classic Reprint) - Tapa blanda

Sinopsis

Excerpt from Bothwell: A Tragedy

You have no faith 5 you steer by sight, and see This fellow gilt and garnished with her grace Sit covered by the queen where lords stand bare And jet before them lordlier and the sight Makes firm your faith that in his hand and eye This land is but a harp to play upon, Whose strings may turn to serpents or to swords To maim his hand or charm his eye to death. You have no faith to see this, or to read The sentence that ensuing shall write me king, And worth men's fears or faiths 10, now you laugh, As though my hope were braggart, and myself A fool and mouthpiece of its foolish vaunt You have no faith.

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