Page 1092 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

KING

And wherefore should these good news make me sick?
Will Fortune never come with both hands full,
But write her fair words still in foulest letters?

She either gives a stomach and no food − [105]
Such are the poor, in health − or else a feast
And takes away the stomach − such are the rich,
That have abundance and enjoy it not.
I should rejoice now at this happy news,

And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy. [110]
O me! Come near me. Now I am much ill.

GLOUCESTER
Comfort, your majesty!

CLARENCE
O my royal father!

WESTMORELAND
My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up.

WARWICK

Be patient, princes. You do know these fits
Are with his highness very ordinary. [115]
Stand from him, give him air, he’ll straight be well.

CLARENCE
No, no, he cannot long hold out these pangs.
The incessant care and labour of his mind

Hath wrought the mure that should confine it in
So thin that life looks through [and will break out]. [120]

GLOUCESTER
The people fear me, for they do observe
Unfathered heirs and loathly births of nature.

The seasons change their manners, as the year
Had found some months asleep and leaped them over.