K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see: 244
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; 248
For I have given here my soul's consent
To undeck the pompous body of a king;
Made glory base and sovereignty a slave,
Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant. 252
North. My lord,—
K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man,
Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title,
No, not that name was given me at the font, 256
But 'tis usurp'd: alack the heavy day!
That I have worn so many winters out,
And know not now what name to call myself.
O! that I were a mockery king of snow, 260
Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke,
To melt myself away in water-drops.
Good king, great king,—and yet not greatly good—
An if my word be sterling yet in England, 264
Let it command a mirror hither straight,
That it may show me what a face I have,
Since it is bankrupt of his majesty.
Boling. Go some of you and fetch a looking-glass. 268
North. Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come.
K. Rich. Fiend! thou torment'st me ere I come to hell.
246 sort: 'crew'
252 state: grandeur
254 haught: haughty
256 Cf. n.
264 be sterling: pass current
