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To ridicule the sumptuary laws,
And the glum Solons whose oppressive acts
Tax at three shillings every English head?
Is this, I pray to know, good comradeship?
Did I e'er shrink from your mad escapades?
Have I been seen less often than of yore,
Despite the recent laws, at cocking-mains
And horse-races? In fine have I not matched
In every point your reckless hardihood,
And played with you in all your comedies?
Barebones [aside, wrathfully.
The Sadducee!
Richard. The Sadducee! Duels and merry-makings
And sinful pranks have found me ever fain;—
What blame you in me?
Clifford. What blame you in me? Your good qualities,
Whereof the merit is notorious,
Are dear to us.
Richard. Are dear to us. But no. It well may be
That I do think too highly of myself.
Our eyes too often miss our own shortcomings,
And only our own better side we see.
Have I offended?
Sedley. Have I offended? Nay.
Richard. Have I offended? Nay. It likes me much
To be informed.
Rosebery. To be informed. Richard!
Richard. To be informed. Richard! I make no doubt
That you do me the justice to believe
That I detest these cursed Puritans,
As you do?
Barebones. As you do? What? As we do?
Richard. As you do? What? As we do? So I say.
How tolerate those stupid sectaries,
Who mar the sacred books with commentaries