A substitute shines brightly as a king
Until a king be by, and then his state
Empties itself, as doth an inland brook
Into the main waters. William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice V i 94
The King is a good king. Henry V 2012 starring Tim Hiddleston & Geraldine Chaplin & Paul Freeman & Julie Walters & John Hurt & Tom Georgeson & Richard Griffiths & Paterson Joseph & James Laurenson et al, director Thea Sharrock
But if the cause be not good, the King himself hath the heavy reckoning to make. ibid. soldier
Never was monarch better feared and loved
Than is your majesty. There’s not, I think a subject
That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness
Under the sweet shade of your government. William Shakespeare, Henry V II ii 25-28, Cambridge to King Harry
And be assured, you’ll find a difference,
As we his subjects have in wonder found,
Between the promise of his greener days
And these his masters now: now he weights time
Even to the utmost grain. ibid. II iv 134-138, Exeter
The king’s a bawcock, and a heart of gold,
A lad of life, an imp of fame,
Of parents good, of fist most valiant:
I kiss his dirty shoe, and from my heart-string
I love the lovely bully. ibid. IV i 44
I think the King is but a man, as I am. ibid. IV i 101-102
King Harry (in disguise): Methinks I could not die anywhere so contented as in the King’s company, his case being just and his quarrel honourable.
Williams: That’s more than we know.
Bates: Ay, or more than we should seek after. For we know enough if we know we are the King’s subjects. If his cause be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes out the crime of it out of us.
Williams: But if the cause be not good, the King himself hath a heavy reckoning to make ... I am afeard there are few die well that die in a battle, for how can they charitably dispose of anything, when blood is their argument? Now, if there men do not die well, it will be a black matter for the King that led them to it ...
King Harry: ... The King is not bound to answer the particular endings of his soldiers, the father of his son, not the master of his servant, for they purpose not their deaths when they propose their services ... Now, if these men have defeated the law and outrun native punishment, though they can outstrip men, they have no wings to fly from God ... Every subject’s duty is the King’s, but every subject’s soul is his own. Therefore should every soldier in the wars do as every sick man in his bed: wash every mote out of his conscience. And dying so, death is to him advantage; or not dying, the time was blessedly lost wherein such preparation was gained. ibid. IV i @ 125, King Harry to Williams, Bates et al
Let us our lives, our souls, our debts, our care-full wives, Our children, and our sins, lay in the King. We must bear all. O hard condition, Twin-born with greatness: subject to the breath of every fool, whose sense no more can feel but his own reckoning. What infinite heart-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? ... Wherein thou art less happy, being feared, than they in fearing. What drink’st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, but poisoned flattery? ibid. IV i @228
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? ibid. IV i 256
’Tis not the balm, the scepter and the ball,
The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
The intertissed 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 filled and vacant mind
Gets him to rest, crammed and distressful bread. ibid. IV i 280
I was born free as Caesar; so were you:
We both have fed as well, as we can both
Endure the winter’s cold as well as he. William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar I ii 97
Ye gods, it doth amaze me.
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world,
As bear the palm along. ibid. I ii 128
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus; and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Men at such times are masters of their own fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings. ibid. I ii 134
When could they say, till now, that talked of Rome,
That her wide walls encompassed but one man?
Now is it Rome indeed and room enough,
When there is in it but one only man. ibid. I ii 153
When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. ibid. II ii 30
O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low?
Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,
Shrunk to this little measure? ibid. III i 148
Live a thousand years,
I shall not find myself so apt to die:
No place will please me so, no mean of death,
As here by Caesar, and by you cut off,
The choice and master spirits of this age. ibid. III i 159
O! pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers;
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
That ever lived in the tide of times. ibid. III i 254
But yesterday the word of Caesar might
Have stood against the world: now lies he there.
And none so poor to do him reverence. ibid. III ii 124
He hath left you all his walks,
His private arbours, and new-planted orchards,
On this side Tiber; he hath left them you,
And to your heirs for ever; common pleasures,
To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves. ibid. III ii 252
Here was a Caesar! when comes such another? ibid. III ii 257
Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemned to have an itching palm. ibid. IV iii 7
This was the noblest Roman of them all;
All the conspirators save only he
Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;
He only in a general honest thought
And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle, and the elements
So mixed in him that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world, ‘This was a man!’ ibid. V v 68
Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
The imperial jointress to this warlike state,
Have we, as ‘twere with a defeated joy, –
With an auspicious and a dropping eye,
With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,
In equal scale weighing delight and dole, –
Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr’d
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
With this affair along. For all, our thanks.
Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,
Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
Or thinking by our late dear brother’s death
Our state to be disjoint and out of frame ... William Shakespeare, Hamlet I ii, Claudius
He that plays the king shall be welcome; his majesty shall have tribute of me. ibid. II ii 341
To keep those many many bodies safe
That live and feed upon your majesty. ibid. III iii 9-10
A king of shreds and patches. ibid. III iv 102
There’s such divinity doth hedge a king,
That treason can but peep to what it would. ibid. IV v 123
The king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them. William Shakespeare, Macbeth IV iii 91
Then they for sudden joy did weep,
And I for sorrow sung,
That such a king should play bo-peep
And go the fools among. William Shakespeare, King Lear I iv @168, Fool
Gloucester: Is’t not the king?
Lear: Ay, every inch a king. ibid.
His legs bestrid the ocean; his rear’d arm
Crested the world: his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;
But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder. William Shakespeare, Antony and Cleopatra V ii 28
… and falsehood
Is worse in kings than beggars. William Shakespeare, Cymbeline III vi 13-14, Innogen