I loved no King since Forty One
When Prelacy went down,
A Cloak and Band I then read more

I loved no King since Forty One
When Prelacy went down,
A Cloak and Band I then put on,
And preached against the Crown.

Every subject's duty is the king's, but every subject's soul is
his own.

Every subject's duty is the king's, but every subject's soul is
his own.

'Tis so much to be a king, that he only is so by being so.
- Michael read more

'Tis so much to be a king, that he only is so by being so.
- Michael Eyquen de Montaigne,

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

Hail, glorious edifice, stupendous work!
God bless the Regent, and the Duke of York.

Hail, glorious edifice, stupendous work!
God bless the Regent, and the Duke of York.

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.

The King is dead! Long live the King!

The King is dead! Long live the King!

What is a king? a man condemn'd to bear
The public burthen of the nation's care.

What is a king? a man condemn'd to bear
The public burthen of the nation's care.

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,