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Knowest thou not that kings have long hands?
[Lat., An nescis longos regibus esse manus?]
Knowest thou not that kings have long hands?
[Lat., An nescis longos regibus esse manus?]
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.]
A merry monarch, scandalous and poor.
A merry monarch, scandalous and poor.
Though good faith should be banished from the rest of the world,
it should be found in the mouths read more
Though good faith should be banished from the rest of the world,
it should be found in the mouths of kings.
[Fr., Si la bonne foi etait bannie du reste du monde, il faudrait
qu'on la trouvat dans la bouche des rois.]
Over all good things certain, this is sure indeed,
Suffer not the old King, for we know the breed.
Over all good things certain, this is sure indeed,
Suffer not the old King, for we know the breed.
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.
Hener was the hero-king,
Heaven-born, dear to us,
Showing his shield
A shelter for read more
Hener was the hero-king,
Heaven-born, dear to us,
Showing his shield
A shelter for peace.
A crown is merely a hat that lets the rain in.
A crown is merely a hat that lets the rain in.
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,