PRINCE. Who saw the Duke of Clarence? CLARENCE. I am here, brother, full of heaviness. PRINCE. How now! Rain within doors, and none abroad! How doth the King? PRINCE HUMPHREY. Exceeding ill. PRINCE. Heard he the good news yet? Tell it him. PRINCE HUMPHREY. He alt'red much upon the hearing it. PRINCE. If he be sick with joy, he'll recover without physic. WARWICK. Not so much noise, my lords. Sweet Prince, speak low; The King your father is dispos'd to sleep. CLARENCE. Let us withdraw into the other room. WARWICK. Will't please your Grace to go along with us? PRINCE. No; I will sit and watch here by the King. Exeunt all but the PRINCE Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, Being so troublesome a bedfellow? O polish'd perturbation! golden care! That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide To many a watchful night! Sleep with it now! Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet As he whose brow with homely biggen bound Snores out the watch of night. O majesty! When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit Like a rich armour worn in heat of day That scald'st with safety. By his gates of breath There lies a downy feather which stirs not. Did he suspire, that light and weightless down Perforce must move. My gracious lord! my father! This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd So many English kings. Thy due from me Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood Which nature, love, and filial tenderness, Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously. My due from thee is this imperial crown, Which, as immediate from thy place and blood, Derives itself to me. [Putting on the crown] Lo where it sits- Which God shall guard; and put the world's whole strength Into one giant arm, it shall not force This lineal honour from me. This from thee Will I to mine leave as 'tis left to me. Exit KING. Warwick! Gloucester! Clarence! Re-enter WARWICK, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE