| Of all the court and princes of my blood: | |
| The hope and expectation of thy time | |
| Is ruin'd, and the soul of every man | |
| Prophetically doth forethink thy fall. | |
| Had I so lavish of my presence been, | |
| So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men, | |
| So stale and cheap to vulgar company, | |
| Opinion, that did help me to the crown, | |
| Had still kept loyal to possession | |
| And left me in reputeless banishment, | |
| A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. | |
| By being seldom seen, I could not stir | |
| But like a comet I was wonder'd at; | |
| That men would tell their children 'This is he;' | |
| Others would say 'Where, which is Bolingbroke?' | |
| And then I stole all courtesy from heaven, | |
| And dress'd myself in such humility | |
| That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, | |
| Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, | |
| Even in the presence of the crowned king. | |