your humble course;
But quite dislike the project of your suit.
Good words in an ill cause makes the fact worse:
Of blood or baseness justice will dispute.
The greater man, the greater his transgression:
Where strength wrongs weakness, it is mere oppression.

LADY F. O, but, King Henry, hear a sister speak.
Gloster was wrong'd, his lands were given away,
They are not justly said just laws to break,
That keep their own right with what power they may.
Think, then, thy royal self began the wrong,
In giving Skink what did to him[548] belong.

QUEEN. Hear me, son Henry, while thou art a king,
Give, take, prison: thy subjects are thy slaves.
Life, need, thrones[549], proud hearts in dungeons fling,
Grace men to day, to-morrow give them graves.
A king must be, like Fortune, ever turning,
The world his football, all her glory spurning.

GLO. Still your own counsel, beldam policy!
You're a fit tutress in a monarchy.

RICH. Mother, you are unjust, savage, too cruel,
Unlike a woman. Gentleness guides their sex;
But you to fury's fire add more fuel.
The vexed spirit will you delight to vex?
O God, when I conceit what you have done,
I am asham'd to be esteem'd your son.

JOHN. Base Richard, I disdain to call thee brother,
Tak'st thou a traitor's part in our disgrace?
For Gloster wilt thou wrong our sacred mother?
I scorn thee, and defy thee to thy face.
O, that we were in field! then should'st thou try.

ROB. How fast Earl John would from Prince Richard fly!
Thou meet a lion in field? poor mouse,
All thy careers are in a brothel house.

JOHN. 'Zounds, boy!

RICH. Now, man!

LEI. Richard, you wrong Prince John.

RICH. Leicester, 'twere good you prov'd his champion.

JOHN. Hasten the execution, royal lord[s],
Let deeds make answer for their worthless words.

GLO. I know, if I respected hand or head,
I am encompassed with a world of friends,
And could from fury be delivered.
But then my freedom hazards many lives.
Henry, perform the utmost of thy hate,
Let my[550] hard-hearted mother have her will.
Give frantic John no longer cause to prate:
I am prepared for the worst of ill.
You see my knees kiss the cold pavement's face,
They are not bent to Henry nor his friends,
But to all you whose blood, fled to your hearts,
Shows your true sorrow in your ashy cheeks:
To you I bend my knees: you I entreat
To smile on Gloster's resolution.
Whoever loves me, will not shed a tear,
Nor breathe a sigh, nor show a cloudy