Smile Dollallolla—Ha! what wrinkled sorrow
Hangs, sits, lies, frowns upon thy knitted brow?[76]
Whence flow those tears fast down thy blubber'd cheeks,
Like a swoln gutter, gushing through the streets?
Queen. Excess of joy, my lord, I've heard folks say,[77]
Gives tears as certain as excess of grief.
King. If it be so, let all men cry for joy,
Till my whole court be drowned with their tears;[78]
Nay, till they overflow my utmost land,
And leave me nothing but the sea to rule.