Untouch’d or slightly handled in discourse:
[20] And when mine oratory grew to an end,
[♦] I bid them that did love their country’s good
Cry ‘God save Richard, England’s royal king!’
[♦] Glou. Ah! and did they so?
[♦] Buck. No, so God help me, they spake not a word;
[25] But, like dumb statuas or breathing stones,
[♦] Gazed each on other, and look’d deadly pale.
Which when I saw, I reprehended them;
[♦] And ask’d the mayor what meant this wilful silence: