Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
North. North.
North. My Lord dispatch, reade o're these Articles.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Mine Eyes are full of Teares, I cannot see:
Rich. And yet salt‑Water blindes them not so much,
Rich. But they can see a sort of Traytors here.
Rich. Nay, if I turne mine Eyes vpon my selfe,
Rich. I finde my selfe a Traytor with the rest:
Rich. For I haue giuen here my Soules consent,
Rich. T'vndeck the pompous Body of a King;
Rich. Made Glory base; a Soueraigntie, a Slaue;
Rich. Prowd Maiestie, a Subiect; State, a Pesant.
North. My Lord.
Rich. No Lord of thine, thou haught‑insulting man;
Rich. No, nor no mans Lord: I haue no Name, no Title;
Rich. No, not that Name was giuen me at the Font,
Rich. But 'tis vsurpt: alack the heauie day,
Rich. That I haue worne so many Winters out,