GLOUCESTER: A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege: Amongst this princely heap, if any here, By false intelligence, or wrong surmise, Hold me a foe; If I unwittingly, or in my rage, Have aught committed that is hardly borne By any in this presence, I desire To reconcile me to his friendly peace: 'Tis death to me to be at enmity; I hate it, and desire all good men's love.