Page:Richard II (1921) Yale.djvu/66

54

Can wash the balm off from an anointed king;

The breath of worldly men cannot depose

The deputy elected by the Lord.

For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd

To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown,

God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay

A glorious angel: then, if angels fight,

Weak men must fall, for heaven still guards the right.

Welcome, my lord: how far off lies your power?

Sal. Nor near nor farther off, my gracious lord,

Than this weak arm: discomfort guides my tongue

And bids me speak of nothing but despair.

One day too late, I fear me, noble lord,

Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth.

O! call back yesterday, bid time return,

And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men:

To-day, to-day, unhappy day too late,

O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state;

For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead,

Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispers'd, and fled.

Aum. Comfort, my liege! why looks your Grace so pale?

K. Rich. But now, the blood of twenty thousand men

Did triumph in my face, and they are fled;

And till so much blood thither come again

Have I not reason to look pale and dead?

All souls that will be safe, fly from my side;

 55 balm: holy oil used in consecrating a king

58 press'd: recruited, levied

59 shrewd: accursed

64 near: nearer

65 discomfort: discouragement

