:14:00
That year, the king spent
Christmastime in London...
:14:02
...but his health was undermined
through sickness."
:14:07
Many good-morrows
your majesty.
:14:09
- Is it good-morrows, lords?
- 'Tis one o'clock and past.
:14:13
Why, then good-morrows,
my lords.
:14:16
Where is the Prince of Wales?
Where is he?
:14:19
Is not his brother John of
Lancaster, with him?
:14:21
- No, my good lord, he is here.
- Thou must sleep, my lord...
:14:25
...thou hath been sick for fifteen
days, it shall wreck thy health.
:14:30
- What would my lord?
- Thou should at Windsor...
:14:33
...with thy brother.
- He dines in on London.
:14:36
And how accompanied?
:14:39
With Poins and other his
continual followers.
:14:43
Most subjet is the fattest
soil to weeds.
:14:47
And he, the noble image of my
youth, is overspread with them.
:14:51
My grief streches itself beyond
the hour of death.
:14:56
The blood weeps from my heart
when I do shape...
:15:00
...in froms imaginary...
:15:03
...the unguided days and rotten
times that you shall look...
:15:07
...upon when I'm sleeping
with my ancestors.
:15:10
My good lord, you look
beyond him quite.
:15:14
The prince will, in time,
cast off his followers.
:15:18
'Tis seldom when the bee
doth leave her comb.
:15:34
Enter not, he hath a fit.
:15:38
He cannot long hold art
these pangs.
:15:43
The incessant labour
of his mind hath...
:15:47
...worn out the shell that
contains life.
:15:52
The crown. Give me the crown.
:15:55
Set it upon my pillow.