Again, the Duke of Suffolk, having to inform the Queen of King Henry VI. regarding the steps which he has taken about the Duchess of Gloucester, conveys his news in the language of the bird-catcher: Madam, myself have limed a bush for her, And placed a quire of such enticing birds, That she will light to listen to the lays, And never mount to trouble you again.[9] [Sidenote: _Similes from Bird-Capture_] The King in _Hamlet_, torn with compunction for his crime, exclaims O wretched state! O bosom black as death! O limed soul, that struggling to be free Art more engaged.[10] The supposed experience of a bird that has once been nearly caught is transferred by the poet to the human heart. King Henry VI. laments his fate in this wise: The bird that hath been limed in a bush, With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush; And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird, Have now the fatal object in my eye Where my poor young was limed, was caught and kill’d.[11] On the other hand, the innocent assurance of a blameless soul is likened to that of a bird that has never known the treacherous arts of the fowler. For unstain’d thoughts do seldom dream on evil; Birds never limed no secret bushes fear.[12] We find reference to “poor birds deceived with painted grapes,” and to “poor birds that helpless berries saw.”[13] There is a graphic force in the exclamation Look how a bird lies tangl’d in a net,[14] and in the simile applied to Lucrece, Like a new-kill’d bird she trembling lies.[15] But it is from the sport of falconry that Shakespeare draws most frequently his allusions to bird-capture. Some of these I shall quote in connection with his references to hawks and hawking. The poet does not confine his similes to birds in the wild state, but draws them also with effect from birds in confinement, as where he represents King Henry VI. thanking the Lieutenant of the Tower for courtesy shown to him during his imprisonment: I’ll well requite thy kindness, For that it made my imprisonment a pleasure; Ay, such a pleasure as incaged birds Conceive, when after many moody thoughts, At last, by notes of household harmony, They quite forget their loss of liberty.[16] [Sidenote: _His feeling for Nature_] It will be remembered, also, how touchingly the same comparison appears in the scene wherein Cordelia and Lear are led off the stage guarded. When she asks her father, “Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?” Lear impatiently answers, No, no, no, no. Come, let’s away to prison: We two alone will sing like birds i’ the cage; When thou dost ask me the blessing, I’ll kneel down And ask of thee forgiveness: so we’ll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, … And take upon’s the mystery of things.[17]