Dorset, embrace him,-Hastings, love lord mar- K. RICHARD III., A. 2, s. 1. THE KING'S DESPAIR. I KNOW you; Where's the king? Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage, This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, And bids what will take all. KING LEAR, A. 3, s. 1. THE KING'S GRIEF THAT HE HAD NOT SEEN THE FAITH SOONER. QUEEN. This way the king will come; this is the way To Julius Cæsar's ill-erected tower, To whose flint bosom my condemned lord Enter KING RICHARD and Guards. But soft, but see, or rather do not see, My fair rose wither: Yet look up; behold; That you in pity may dissolve to dew, And wash him fresh again with true-love tears.Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand; Thou map of honour; thou king Richard's tomb, And not king Richard; thou most beauteous Inn, Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodg'd in thee, When triumph is become an alehouse guest ? K. RICHARD. Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, To make my end too sudden: learn, good soul, From which awak'd, the truth of what we are France, Hie thee to And cloister thee in some religious house: Transform'd, and weaken'd? Hath Bolingbroke Depos'd thine intellect? Hath he been in thy heart? The lion, dying, thrusteth forth his paw, And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage K. RICH. A king of beasts, indeed; if aught but beasts, I had been still a happy king of men. Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for Think, I am dead; and that even here thou tak’st, With good old folks; and let them tell thee tales And, ere thou bid good night, to quit their grief, And send the hearers weeping to their beds. And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black, K. RICHARD II., A.5, s. 1. THE KING'S LAMENT FOR A K. HENRY. My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best, Do, or undo, as if ourself were here. Q. MARGARET. What, will your highness leave the parliament ? K. HEN. Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with grief, Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes; For what's more miserable than discontent ?- What low'ring star now envies thy estate, Thou never didst them wrong, nor no man wrong: And as the butcher takes away the calf, And binds the wretch, and beats it when it strays, His fortunes I will weep; and, 'twixt each groan, [Exit. Q. MAR. Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun's hot beams. Henry my lord is cold in great affairs, That, for the beauty, thinks it excellent. Believe me, lords, were none more wise than I, (And yet, herein, I judge mine own wit good,) This Gloster should be quickly rid the world, To rid us from the fear we have of him. CARDINAL. That he should die, is worthy policy: But yet we want a colour for his death: 'Tis meet he be condemn'd by course of law. SUFFOLK. But, in my mind, that were no policy: The king will labour still to save his life; More than mistrust, that shows him worthy death. K. HENRY VI., PART II., A. 3, s. 1. THE KING'S LIVING DEATH. WHY doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, Being so troublesome a bedfellow ? O polish'd perturbation! golden care! That scalds with safety. By his gates of breath father! This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep, |