Richard II (excerpts): This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle

This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle,This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,This other Eden, demi-paradise,This fortress built by Nature for her selfAgainst infection and the hand of war,This happy breed of men, this little world,This precious stone set in a silver seaWhich serves it in the office of a wallOr as a moat defensive to a house,Against the envy of less happier lands,This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,Feared by their breed and famous for their birth,Renownèd for their deeds as far from homeFor Christian service and true chivalryAs is the sepulchre in stubborn JewryOf the world's ransom, blessèd Mary's son.This land of such dear souls, this dear, dear land,Dear for her reputation through the world,Is now leased out - I die pronouncing it -Like to a tenement or pelting farm.England, bound in with the triumphant sea,Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siegeOf watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds.That England that was wont to conquer othersHath made a shameful conquest of itself.