Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Aum. pale?
Rich. Rich.
Rich. But now the blood of twentie thousand men
Rich. Did triumph in my face, and they are fled,
Rich. And till so much blood thither come againe,
Rich. Haue I not reason to looke pale, and dead?
Rich. All Soules that will be safe, flye from my side,
Rich. For Time hath set a blot vpon my pride.
Aum. Aum.
Aum. Comfort my Liege, remember who you are.
Rich. I had forgot my selfe. Am I not King?
Rich. Awake thou sluggard Maiestie, thou sleepest:
Rich. Is not the Kings Name fortie thousand Names?
Rich. Arme, arme my Name: a punie subiect strikes
Rich. At thy great glory. Looke not to the ground,
Rich. Ye Fauorites of a King: are wee not high?
Rich. High be our thoughts: I know my Vnckle Yorke
Rich. Hath Power enough to serue our turne.
Rich. But who comes here?