For I am proverbed with a grandsire phrase.
Friendly counsel cuts off many foes.
Death, a necessary end, will come when it will come
I cannot tell what the dickens his name is.
GLOUCESTER: Yet so much is my poverty of spirit, So mighty and so many my defects, As I had rather hide me from my greatness, Being a bark to brook no mighty sea, Than in my greatness covet to be hid, And in the vapour of my glory smother'd. But God be thanked. . . .
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where.