It seems the marriage with his brother’s wife Has crept too near his conscience.
It seems the marriage with his brother’s wife Has weighed too heavily on his conscience.
Lord Chamberlain · Act 2, Scene 2
The Chamberlain is correcting Suffolk's observation about the king's conscience, offering the real reason for the looming divorce. This line lands because it cuts through the theological language to name the actual mechanism of power: desire disguises itself as conscience, and the king's will becomes the king's scrupulousness. It shows how personal ambition wears the mask of spiritual urgency.
These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse, and fight for bitten apples; that no audience, but the tribulation of Tower-hill, or the limbs of Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have some of ’em in Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to dance these three days; besides the running banquet of two beadles that is to come.
These are the kids who cause chaos at a playhouse, and fight over stolen apples; no audience, except the trouble of Tower Hill, or the bad folks from Limehouse, their close friends, can stand them. I have some of them locked up in Limbo Patrum, and there they are likely to dance for three days; plus the running banquet of two police officers that’s about to start.
Lord Chamberlain · Act 5, Scene 4
The Porter is complaining about the raucous crowd outside the palace during Elizabeth's christening, dismissing them as hooligans from the worst parts of London. The line is memorable because it is the play's only sustained comic bit, full of vivid contempt and real threat, and because it reminds us that even in the midst of high ceremony and prophecy, the common people are loud, messy, and ungovernable. It offers a counterweight to the formal grandeur of the court.