_Aum._ He means, my lord, that we are too remiss; Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security,[1323] Grows strong and great in substance and in power.[1324] 35 _K. Rich._ Discomfortable cousin! know'st thou not[1325] That when the searching eye of heaven is hid,[1326] Behind the globe, that lights the lower world,[1326][1327] Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen In murders and in outrage, boldly here;[1328] 40 But when from under this terrestrial ball[1329] He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines And darts his light through every guilty hole,[1330] Then murders, treasons and detested sins, The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs, 45 Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves? So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke, Who all this while hath revell'd in the night Whilst we were wandering with the antipodes,[1331] Shall see us rising in our throne, the east, 50 His treasons will sit blushing in his face,[1332] Not able to endure the sight of day, But self-affrighted tremble at his sin.[1333] Not all the water in the rough rude sea[1334] Can wash the balm off from an anointed king;[1335] 55 The breath of worldly men cannot depose[1336] The deputy elected by the Lord: For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd[1337] To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown,[1338] God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay[1339] 60 A glorious angel: then, if angels fight, Weak men must fall, for heaven still guards the right. _Enter_ SALISBURY. Welcome, my lord: how far off lies your power?[1340] _Sal._ Nor near nor farther off, my gracious lord, Than this weak arm: discomfort guides my tongue 65 And bids me speak of nothing but despair. One day too late, I fear me, noble lord,[1341] Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth:[1342] O, call back yesterday, bid time return, And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men![1343] 70 To-day, to-day, unhappy day, too late, O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune and thy state:[1344] For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead, Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispersed and fled.[1345] _Aum._ Comfort, my liege: why looks your grace so pale? 75 _K. Rich._ But now the blood of twenty thousand men[1346] Did triumph in my face, and they are fled; And, till so much blood thither come again,[1347] Have I not reason to look pale and dead?[1347] All souls that will be safe fly from my side, 80 For time hath set a blot upon my pride. _Aum._ Comfort, my liege; remember who you are.