Richard. Iwasted Time and now doth Time waste me. For now hath Time made me his numbring clock. Publish'd by F. & C. Rivington, London. Aug. 15.1803. The cares I give, I have, though given away; Therefore no no, for I resign to thee. North. read No more, but that you These accusations, and these grievous crimes, Against the state and profit of this land; say here, that his cares are not made less by the increase of Bolingbroke's cares; for this reason, that his care is the loss of care, -his grief is, that his regal cares are at an end, by the cessation of the care to which he had been accustomed. JOHNSON. 8 my balm,] The oil of consecration. He has mentioned it before. JOHNSON. 1 That, by confessing them, the souls of men K. Rich. Must I do so? and must I ravel out My weav'd-up follies? Gentle Northumberland, If thy offences were upon record, Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop, And cracking the strong warrant of an oath,Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaven : Nay, all of you, that stand and look upon me, North. My lord, despatch; read o'er these articles. K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see: And yet salt water blinds them not so much, But they can see a sort of traitors here. Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself, I find myself a traitor with the rest: For I have given here my soul's consent, To undeck the pompous body of a king; Make glory base; and sovereignty, a slave; Proud majesty, a subject; state, a peasant. North. My lord, K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught,' insulting man, Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title,- That I have worn so many winters out, Good king, great king,-(and yet not greatly good,) An if my word be sterling yet in England, glass. Boling. Go some of you, and fetch a looking[Exit an Attendant. North. Read o'er this paper, while the glass doth come. K. Rich. Fiend! thou torment'st me ere I come to hell. Boling. Urge it no more, my lord Northumberland. 7 North. The commons will not then be satisfied. K. Rich. They shall be satisfied: I'll read enough, When I do see the very book indeed Where all my sins are writ, and that's-myself. Re-enter Attendant, with a Glass. Give me that glass, and therein will I read.— And made no deeper wounds ?-O, flattering glass, Thou dost beguile me! Was this face the face, Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face, As brittle as the glory is the face; [Dashes the Glass against the ground. For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers.Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport,How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face. Boling. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd The shadow of your face. K. Rich. Say that again. The shadow of my sorrow? Ha! let's see :- Boling. Name it, fair cousin. K. Rich. Fair cousin? Why, I am greater than a king: For, when I was a king, my flatterers Were then but subjects; being now a subject, Being so great, I have no need to beg. Boling. Yet ask. K. Rich. And shall I have? Boling. You shall. K. Rich. Then give me leave to go. K. Rich. Whither you will, so I were from your sights. Boling. Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower. |