KING RICHARD II: A king of beasts, indeed; if aught but beasts, I had been still a happy king of men. Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for France: Think I am dead and that even here thou takest, As from my death-bed, thy last living leave. In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire With good old folks and let them tell thee tales Of woeful ages long ago betid; And ere thou bid good night, to quit their griefs, Tell thou the lamentable tale of me And send the hearers weeping to their beds: For why, the senseless brands will sympathize The heavy accent of thy moving tongue And in compassion weep the fire out; And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black, For the deposing of a rightful king.