That swells with silence in the tortur'd soul;
There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king,
For thy great bounty, that not only giv'st 300
Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way
How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon,
And then be gone and trouble you no more.
Shall I obtain it?
Boling. Name it, fair cousin. 304
K. Rich. 'Fair cousin!' I am greater than a king;
For when I was a king, my flatterers
Were then but subjects; being now a subject,
I have a king here to my flatterer. 308
Being so great, I have no need to beg.
Boling. Yet ask.
K. Rich. And shall I have?
Boling. You shall. 312
K. Rich. Then give me leave to go.
Boling. Whither?
K. Rich. Whither you will, so I were from your sights.
Boling. Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower. 316
K. Rich. O, good! convey? conveyers are you all,
That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.
Boling. On Wednesday next we solemnly set down
Our coronation; lords, prepare yourselves. 320
Abbot of Westminster, and Aumerle].
Abbot. A woeful pageant have we here beheld.
Bishop. The woe's to come; the children yet unborn
Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.
308 to: as
316 convey: conduct; cf. n.
319 Wednesday; cf. n.
