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Of times long past, ev'n now with woe remember'd,
Have no delight to pass away my hours,
I'll climb betimes, without remorse or dread,
A Chamber in the Tower.
KING Henry, sleeping on a Couch.
Lieut. Asleep so soon! but sorrow minds no sea
sons ; The morning, noon, and night, with her's the same; She's fond of any hour, that yields repose. K. Hen. Who's there! Lieutenant! is it you?
Come hither! Lieut. You shake, my lord, and look affrighted ! K. Hen. Oh! I have had the fearfullst dream!
That, as I live,
Enter GLOSTER. Glost. Good day, my lord ; what, at your book
so hard ?
I disturb you.
K. Hen. You do indeed.
fer. K. Hen. What bloody scene has Roscius now to act?
[Exit LIEUTENANT. Glost. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind : The thief does fear each bush an officer. K. Hen. Where thieves, without controlment, rob
and kill, The traveller does fear each bush a thief : The poor bird, that has been already lim'd, With trembling wings misdoubts of every bush; And I, the hapless male of one sweet bird, Have now the fatal object in my eye, By whom my young one bled, was caught, and
kill'd. Glost. Why, what a peevish fool was that of
Crete, That taught his son the office of a fowl! And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown'd: Thou shouldst have taught thy boy his prayers
alone, And then he had not broke his neck with climbing. K. Hen. Ah! kill me with thy weapon, not thy
words; My breast can better brook thy dagger's point,
Than can my ears that piercing story ;
Glost. Think'st thou I am an executioner?
K. Hen. If murdering innocents be executing,
Glost. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption.
old men's sighs, and widow's moans ; How many orphans' water-standing eyes; Men for their sons, wives for their husbands' fate, And children for their parents' timeless death, Will rue the hour that ever thou wert born! The owl shriek'd at thy birth-an evil sign! The night-crow cry’d, foreboding luckless time; Dogs howld, and hideous tempests shook down trees; The raven rook'd her on the chimney top, And chattering pies in dismal discord sung; Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope. Teeth hadst thou in thy head, when thou, wert born, Which plainly said, thou cam'st to bite mankind ; And, if the rest be true, which I have heard, Thou cam'st Glost. I'll hear no more-Die, prophet, in thy
speech; For this, ainongst the rest, I was ordain'd. [Stabs him. K. Hen. Oh! and for much more slaughter after
this; Just Heav'n forgive my sins, and pardon thee! [Dies.
Glost. What will the aspiring blood of Lancaster Sink in the ground ?-I thought it would have
mounted. See how my sword weeps for the poor king's death! Oh may such purple tears be always shed,
From those, who wish the downfall of our house!
reigns, When they are gone, then must I count my gains.