Page 2916 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

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 fear’d, and kill with looks, [165]
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this flesh which 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! [170]
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, [175]
Taste grief, need friends. Subjected thus,
How can you say to me I am a king?

CARLISLE

My lord, wise men ne’er sit and wail their woes,
But presently prevent the ways to wail.
To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, [180]
Gives in your weakness strength unto your foe,
And so your follies fight against yourself.
Fear, and be slain: no worse can come to fight;
And fight and die is death destroying death,
Where fearing dying pays death servile breath. [185]

AUMERLE

My father hath a power; inquire of him,
And learn to make a body of a limb.

RICHARD

Thou chidest me well. Proud Bolingbroke, I come
To change blows with thee for our day of doom.
This ague-fit of fear is overblown. [190]
An easy task it is to win our own.
Say, Scrope, where lies our uncle with his power?
Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour.

SCROPE