Glo.
Good day, my lord! What, at your book so hard?

K. Hen.
Ay, my good lord: My lord, I should say rather;
'Tis sin to flatter, good was little better:
Good Gloster, and good devil, were alike,
&mast;And both preposterous; therefore, not good lord.

&mast;Glo.
&mast;Sirrah, leave us to ourselves: we must confer. [Exit Lieutenant.

&mast;K. Hen.
&mast;So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf:
&mast;So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece,
&mast;And next his throat unto the butcher's knife.—
What scene of death hath Roscius now to act^{4 note}

Glo.
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind;
The thief doth fear each bush an officer.

&mlquo;K. Hen.
&mlquo;The bird, that hath been limed in a bush,
&mlquo;With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush^{5 note}

:
And I, the hapless male^{6 note} to one sweet bird,
Have now the fatal object in my eye,
Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught, and kill'd.

&mlquo;Glo.
&mlquo;Why, what a peevish fool^{7 note}

&mlquo;K. Hen.
&mlquo;I, Dædalus; my poor boy, Icarus;
Thy father, Minos, that denied our course;
&mlquo;The sun, that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy,
&mlquo;Thy brother Edward; and thyself, the sea,

&mlquo;Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life.
&mast;Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words!
&mlquo;My breast can better brook thy dagger's point,
Than can my ears that tragick history.—
&mast;But wherefore dost thou come? is't for my life?

&mlquo;Glo.
&mlquo;Think'st thou, I am an executioner?

K. Hen.
A persecutor, I am sure, thou art;
&mlquo;If murdering innocents be executing,
&mlquo;Why, then thou art an executioner.

Glo.
Thy son I kill'd for his presumption.

K. Hen.
Hadst thou been kill'd, when first thou didst presume,
Thou hadst not liv'd to kill a son of mine.
&mlquo;And thus I prophecy,—that many a thousand,
&mlquo;Which now mistrust no parcel of my fear^{9 note};
&mlquo;And many an old man's sigh, and many a widow's,
&mlquo;And many an orphan's water-standing eye,—
&mlquo;Men for their sons, wives for their husbands' fate^{1 note},
&mlquo;And orphans for their parents' timeless death^{2 note},—
&mlquo;Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born.
The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign;
&mlquo;The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time;
Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down trees;
The raven rook'd her^{3 note}

And chattering pies in dismal discords sung.
Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain,
And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope;
&mlquo;To wit,—an indigest^{4 note}
deformed lump,
Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree.
Teeth hadst thou in thy head, when thou wast born,
To signify,—thou cam'st to bite the world:
And, if the rest be true which I have heard,
&mlquo;Thou cam'st^{5 note}

Glo.
I'll hear no more;—Die, prophet, in thy speech; [Stabs him.
For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd.

K. Hen.
Ay, and for much more slaughter after this.
O God! forgive my sins, and pardon thee! [Dies.

Glo.
What, will the aspiring blood of Lancaster
&mlquo;Sink in the ground? I thought it would have mounted.
See, how my sword weeps for the poor king's death!
&mlquo;O, may such purple tears be always shed
&mlquo;From those that wish the downfal of our house!—
&mlquo;If any spark of life be yet remaining^{6 note}
,
Down, down to hell; and say—I sent thee thither, [Stabs him again.
I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.—
Indeed, 'tis true, that Henry told me of^{7 note}

For I have often heard my mother say,
I came into the world with my legs forward:
Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste,
&mlquo;And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right?
The midwife wonder'd; and the women cried,
O, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!
&mlquo;And so I was; which plainly signified—
That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog.
&mlquo;Then, since the heavens have shap'd my body so,
Let hell^{8 note}

And then, to purge his fear, I'll be thy death.
&mlquo;King Henry, and the prince his son, are gone:
&mlquo;Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest;
Counting myself but bad, till I be best.—
&mlquo;I'll throw thy body in another room,
And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom. [Exit.

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