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Kings: Quotations from Shakespearian Quotations

He may not, as unvalu'd persons do, Carve for himself; for on his choice depends The safety and the health of the whole state; And therefore must his choice be circumscrib'd Unto the voice and yielding of that body, Whereof he is the head.— Hi. 3

O hard condition, twin-born with greatness, Subject to the breath of every fool, Whose sense no more can feel but his own wringing' What infinite heart's ease must kings neglect, That private men enjoy! And what have kings, that privates have not too, Save ceremony, save general ceremony? And what art thou, thou idol ceremony? What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers? What are thy rents? what are thy comings in ? O, ceremony, show me but thy worth What, is thy soul of adoration? Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form Creating awe and fear in other men? Wherein thou art less happy, being fear'd, Than they in fearing Shakespearinu Dictionary. What drink'st thou oft instead of homage sweet, But poison'd flattery? O, be sick, great greatness, And bid thy ceremony give thee cure! Think'st thou, the fiery fever will go out With titles blown from adulation? Will it give place to flexure and low bending? Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee, Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream; That play'st so subtly with a king's repose; I am a king, that find thee; and I know, 'Tis not the balm, the sceptre, and the ball, The sword, the mace, and crown imperial, The inter-tissued robe of gold and pearl, The farced title running 'fore the king, The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp, That beats upon the high shore of this world: No, not all these, thrice gorgeous ceremony, Not all these, laid in bed majestical, Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave; Who, with a body fill'd, and vacant mind, Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread; Never sees horrid night, the child of hell; But like a lackey, from the rise to set, Sweats in the eye of Phœbus, and all night Sleeps in Elysium; next day, after dawn, Doth rise, and help Hyperion to his horse; And follows so the ever-running year With profitable labour, to his grave: And, but for ceremony, such a wretch, Winding up his days with toil, and nights with sleep, Had the fore-hand and vantage of a king.— H. V. iv. 1

Draw not thy sword to guard iniquity, For it was lent thee all that brood to kill. Poems Ay, every inch a king. K.— .L. iv. 6.

Kings are earth's gods: in vice their law's their will; And if Jove stray, who dares say, Jove doth ill? P. P. i. f. Princes are A model which heaven makes like to itself: As jewels lose their glory, if neglected, So princes their renown if not respected.— P. P. ii. 2.

Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers, When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! O, now doth death line his dead chaps with steel; The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs; And now he feasts, mouthing the flesh of men, In undetermin'd differences of kings. KJ2 D but think, How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown; Within whose circuit is Elysium, And all that poets feign of bliss and joy!— H.VI. PT. III. i. 2

O majesty! When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit Like a rich armour worn in heat of day,— H. IV. PT. II. iv. 4..

That scalds with safety. Yet looks he like a king; behold, his eye, As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth Controlling majesty: Alack, alack, for woe, That any harm should stain so fair a show.— R. II. iii. 3

Not all the water in the rough, rude sea— R. II. iii. 2..

Can wash the balm from an anointed king! Is not the king's name forty thousand names ? R. II. iii.— R. II. iii. 2..

There's such divinity doth hedge a king, That treason can but peep to what it would,— H. iv. 5

Acts little of his will. How long a time lies in one little word, Four lagging winters, and four wanton springs,— R. II. i. 3

End in a word; such is the breath of kings. High heaven forbid, That kings should let their ears hear their faults hid.— P. P. i. 2

When we are wrong'd, and would unfold our griefs, We are denied access unto his person, Even by those men that most have done us wrong.— H. IV. PT. II. iv. 1.

The king is a good king; but it must be as it may; he— H. V. ii. 1.

passes some humours and careers. He is a happy king, since from his subjects He gains the name of good, by his government. P. P. i. 1. The hearts of princes kiss obedience, So much they love it; but, to stubborn spirits, They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. H. VILC iii. L Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy, To kings that fear their subjects' treachery? 0, yes, it doth; a thousand fold it doth. And, to conclude, -The shepherd's homely curds, His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, Is far beyond a prince's delicates; His viands sparkling in a golden cup, His body couched in a curious bed, When care, mistrust, and treason, wait on him.— H. VI. PT. III. ii. 5

Mulmutius, Who was the first of Britain, that did put His brows within a golden crown, and called Himself a king.— Cym. iii. 1

Who has a book of all that monarchs do, He's more secure to keep it shut than shown.— P. P. i. 1

Peace, peace, my lords, and give experience tongue. They do abuse the king that flatter him: For flattery is the bellows blows up sin; The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark, To which that breath gives heat and stronger glowing; Whereas reproof, obedient, and in order, Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err.— P. P. i. 2

The mightier man, the mightier is the thing That makes him honour'd, or begets him hate. Poems A thousand flatteries sit within thy crown, Whose compass is no bigger than thy head; And yet, incaged in so small a verge, The waste is no whit lesser than thy land.— R. II. ii. 1

What? I will be jovial; come, come; I am a king, My masters, know you that?— K. L. iv. 6

Landlord of England art thou now, not king: Thy state of law is bond-slave to the law.— R. II. ii 1

The king is not himself, but basely led by flatterers.— R. II. ii 1

The skipping king he ambled up and down, With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits.— H. IV. PT. I. iii 2

Princes have but their titles for their glories, An outward honour for an inward toil; And, for unfelt imaginations, They often feel a world of restless cares : So that, between their titles, and low name, There's nothing differs but the outward fame. R. III. i. 4 For within the hollow crown, That rounds the mortal temples of a king, Keeps death his court: and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp; Allowing him a breath, a little scene To monarchise, be fear'd, and kill with looks; Infusing him with self and vain conceit, - As if this flesh, that walls about our life, Were brass impregnable; and humour'd thus, Comes at the last, and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall, and farewell, king.— R.II. iii.

Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood With solemn reverence; throw away respect, Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty, For you have but mistook me all this while: I live on bread like you, feel want like you, Taste grief, need friends, like you: subjected thus, How can you say to me-I am a king!— R. II. iii. 2.

O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but serv'd my God, with half the zeal I serv'd the king, he would not in mine age— H. VIII. iii. 2.

Have left me naked to mine enemies. I think the king is but a man, as I am: the violet smells to him as it doth to me; the element shows to him as it doth to me; all his senses have but human conditions; his ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man; and though his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet, when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing; therefore, when he sees reason of fears, as we do, his fears, out of— H. V. iv. 1

doubt, be of the same relish as ours are. Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow, and had good discretion, that being bid to ask what he would of the king, desired he might know none of his secrets. Now do I see he had some reason for it: for if a king bid a man be a villain, he is bound by the indenture of his oath to be one.— P. P. i. 3

But not a minute, king, that thou can'st give: Shorten my days, thou can'st, with sullen sorrow, And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow: Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage; Thy word is current with him for my death, But, dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. R. II. i.— HENRY V

I saw young Harry with his beaver on, His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd,- KING HENRY V.,-continued. Rise from the ground, like feather'd Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch the world with noble horsemanship.— H. IV. PT. I. iv. I

England ne'er had a king until his time. Virtue he had, deserving to command; His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams; His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings; His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire, More dazzled and drove back his enemies, Than mid-day sun, fierce bent against their faces. What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech: He ne'er lift up his hand, but conquered. H. VI. PT. I. 1. 1 Hear him but reason in divinity, And, all-admiring, with an inward wish You would desire the king were made a prelate: Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, You would say-it hath been all-in-all his study; List his discourse of war, and you shall hear A fearful battle render'd you in music: Turn him to any cause of policy, The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, Familiar as his garter; that, when he speaks, The air, a charter'd libertine, is still, And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences.— H.V. i. L

But all his mind is bent to holiness, To number Ave-Maries on his beads; His champions are the prophets and apostles; His weapons, holy saws of sacred writ; His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves Are brazen images of canoniz'd saints. H. VI. PT. II.— RICHARD III

Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; Thy school-days frightful, desperate, wild, and furious; Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous; Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody.— R. III. iv 4

-'S ABSENCE AND RETURN, TYPIFIED. Know'st thou not, That when the searching eye of heaven is hid Behind the globe, and lights the lower world, Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen,