There's such divinity doth hedge a king
That treason can but peep to what it would,
Acts read more

There's such divinity doth hedge a king
That treason can but peep to what it would,
Acts little of his will.

Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom
there is no help.

Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom
there is no help.

A crown! what is it?
It is to bear the miseries of a people!
To bear the read more

A crown! what is it?
It is to bear the miseries of a people!
To bear the miseries of a people!
And sink beneath a load of splendid care!

Kings are earth's gods; in vice their law's their will.

Kings are earth's gods; in vice their law's their will.

The king reigns but does not govern.
[Fr., Le roi regne, il ne gouverne pas.]

The king reigns but does not govern.
[Fr., Le roi regne, il ne gouverne pas.]

We will ourself in person to this war;
And, for our coffers, with too great a court
read more

We will ourself in person to this war;
And, for our coffers, with too great a court
And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light,
We are enforced to farm our royal realm,
The revenue whereof shall furnish us
For our affairs in hand.

The rule
Of the many is not well. One must be chief
In war and one the read more

The rule
Of the many is not well. One must be chief
In war and one the king.

For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings!
read more

For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings!
How some have been deposed, some slain in war,
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed,
Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed--
All murdered; 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 monarchize, be feared, and kill with looks;
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this flesh which walls about our life
Were brass impregnable; and humored thus,
Comes at the last, and with a little pin
Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
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 with bread like you, feel want, taste grief,
Need friends. Subjected thus,

God gives not kings the stile of Gods in vaine,
For on his throne his sceptre do they sway;
read more

God gives not kings the stile of Gods in vaine,
For on his throne his sceptre do they sway;
And as their subjects ought them to obey,
So kings should feare and serve their God againe.