22 August 1485 On this day of sorrow for the loss of our king, the bells do toll, and cannot ring. Anointed, betrayed, King Richard is slain, never to watch over his realm again. Never to smile or converse, to laugh or to write. To dance or to hunt, or display his royal might. Never to mete justice and care for his nation, or defend his people from foreign invasion. Today there is sorrow for the loss of our king. The bells do toll, and cannot ring.
