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But shall we wear these glories for a day?
K. Rich. Ah! Buckingham, now do I play the touch,
To try if thou be current gold indeed :
To stop all hopes, whose growth may damage [Exit CATESBY.
I must be married to my brother's daughter,
Young Edward lives;-Think now what I would Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
Buck. Your grace may do your pleasure. K. Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes :
Say, have I thy consent that they shall die? Buck, Give me some breath, some little pause, dear lord,
Before I positively speak in this; I will resolve your grace immediately. [Exit BUCKINGHAM. Cate. The king is angry; see, be guaws his lip. [Aside. K. Rich. I will converse with iron-witted fools, [Descends from his Throne. And unrespective + boys: none are for me, That look into me with considerate eyes;— High-reaching Buckingham
Page. My lord.
Gold were as good as twenty orators,
Page. His name, my lord, is Tyrrel.
The deep-revolving witty § Buckingham No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels:
Hath he so long held out with me untir'd,
Buck. My lord, I have consider'd in my mind
The late demand that you did sound me in. K. Rich. Well, let that rest. Dorset is filed to Richmond.
Buck. I hear the news, my lord.
K. Rich. Stanley, he is your wife's sou:-Well, look to it.
Buck. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise,
For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd;
The earldom of Hereford, and the moveables,
K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife; if she
Letters to Richmoud, you shall answer it. Buck. What says your highness to my just request ?
K. Rich. I do remember me,-Henry the sixth
Did prophesy that Richmoud should be king,
And stops he now for breath 7-well, be it When Richmond was a little peevish ↑ boy.
Buck. My lord,
K. Rich. How chance, the prophet could not at that time,
Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him!
Buck. My lord, your promise for the earldom,
K. Rich. Richmond-When last I was at
SCENE III.-The same.
Tyr. The tyrannous and bloody act is done; The most arch deed of piteous massacre, That ever yet this land was guilty of. Dighton and Forrest, whom I did suborn To do this piece of ruthless butchery, Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs, Melting with tenderness and mild compassion, Wept like two children, in their death's sad story.
O thus, quoth Dighton, lay the gentle babes,Thus, thus, quoth Forrest, girdling one another
Within their alabaster innocent arms :
A book of prayers on their pillow lay;
But oh! the devil-there the villain stopp'd;
Hence both are gone; with conscience and
They could not speak; and so I left them both, To bear this tidings to the bloody king.
Enter King RICHARD.
And here he comes :-All health, my sovereign lord!
K. Rich. Kind Tyrrel! am I happy in thy news?
Tyr. If to have done the thing you gave in
Beget your happiness, be happy, then,
K. Rich. But didst thou see them dead?
K. Rich. And buried, gentle Tyrrel?
But where, to say the truth, I do not know.
K. Rich. Come to me, Tyrrel, soon, at after
When thou shalt tell the process of their death.
Tyr. 1 bumbly take my leave.
K. Rich. The son of Clarence have I penn'd up close;
His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage;
The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom,
Cate. My lord,
K. Rich. Good news or bad, that thou com'st
Cate. Bad news, my lord; Morton + is fled to
And Buckingham, back'd
Is in the field, and still his power increaseth. H. Rich. Ely with Richmond troubles me more near,
Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength. Come,-I have learn'd, that fearful menting
Is leaden servitor to dull delay;
SCENE IV.-The same.-Before the Palace.
Q. Mar. So, now prosperity begins to mellow, And drop into the rotten mouth of death. Here in these confines slily have I lurk'd, To watch the waning of mine enemies. A dire induction am I witness to, And will to France; hoping the consequence Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical. Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret who comes here!
Enter Queen ELIZABETH, and the Duchess of YORK.
Q. Eliz. Ah! my poor princes, ah! my ten-
My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets!
Q. Mar. Hover about her; say, that right for
Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night. Duch. So many miseries have craz'd my voice,
That my woe-wearied tongue is still and
Then would I hide my bones, not rest them | Who sues, and kneels, and says-God save the here !
Ah, who has any cause to mourn, but we?
[Sitting down by her. C. Mar. If ancient sorrow be most reverent, Give mine the benefit of seniory,⚫ And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.] If sorrow can admit society,
[Sitting down with them. Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine :I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him, I had a husband, till a Richard kill'd him: Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him;
Thon hadst a Richard, till a Richard kill'd him. Duch. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him;
I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him.
From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept
O upright, just, and true-disposing God,
God witness with me, I have wept for thine,
And now I cloy me with beholding it.
Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward;
Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward; Young York he is but bool, because both they
Match not the high perfection of my loss.
And the beholders of this tragic play,
Untimely, smother'd in their dusky graves.
To have him suddenly convey'd from hence :-
Q. Mar. I call'd thee then, vain flourish of my fortune;
I call'd thee then, poor shadow, painted queen ;
queen? Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee? Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee?
Decline all this, and see what now thou art.
To torture thee the more, being what thou art.
From which even here I slip my wearied head,
These English woes shall make me smile in
Q. Eliz. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay a while,
And teach me how to curse mine enemies. Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fist the day;
Compare dead happiness with living woe; Think that thy babes were fairer than they were,
And he, that slew them, fouler than he is: Bettering thy loss makes the bad-causer worse; Revolving this will teach thee how to curse.
Q. Eliz. My words are dull, O quicken them with thine!
Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce like mine.
[Exit Q. MARGARET. Duch. Why should calamity be full of
The slaughter of the prince that ow'd that crown,
And the dire death of my poor sons and bro thers?
Tell me thou villain-slave, where are my children?
Duch. Thou toad, thou toad, where
And little Ned Plantagenet, his son ? Q. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaug han, Grey?
Duch. Where is kind Hastings?
K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets!--strike alarum, drums!
Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women
K. Rich. Ay; I thank God, my father, and yourself.
Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience.
That cannot brook the accent of reproof.
K. Rich. Do, then; but I'll not hear.
Duch. Art thou so hasty? I have staid for thee,
God knows, in torment and in agony.
K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you ?
Duch. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well,
Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my
Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody,
More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in batred :
What comfortable hour canst thou name,
K. Rich. 'Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that call'd your grace
To breakfast once, forth of my company.
Let me march on, and not offend you, madam.—
Duch. I pr'ythee, hear me speak.
For I shall never speak to thee again.
K. Rich. So.
Duch. Either thou wilt die, by God's just ordinance,
Ere from this war thon turn a conqueror ;
Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? O let her live,
And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty; Slander nyself, as false to Edward's bed; Throw over her the veil of infamy:
So she may live uuscarr'd of bleeding slaughter & I will confess she was not Edward's daughter. K. Rich. Wrong not her birth, she is of royal blood.
Q. Eliz. To save her life, I'll say she is not
K. Rich. Her life is safest only in her birth. Q. Eliz. And only in that safety died her brothers.
K. Rich. Lo, at their birth good stars were opposite.
Q. Eliz. No, to their lives bad friends were contrary.
K. Rich. All anavoided is the doom of destiny.
Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes destiny:
My babes were destin'd to a fairer death,
Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle cozen'd
Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.
Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart,
My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys,
Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes;
K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprize,
And dangerous success of bloody wars,
To be discover'd that can do me good?
K. Rich. The advancement of your children, gentle lady.
Q. Eliz. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads?
K. Rich. No, to the dignity and height of fortune,
The high imperial type of this earth's glory.t
Tell me, what state, what dignity, what honour, Canst thon demise ý to any child of mine?
K. Rich. Even all I have; ay, and myself and all,
Will I withal endow a child of thine;
Shame serves thy life, and doth thy death at-Thou drown the sad remembrance of those tend.
Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse
Abides in me; I say Amen to her. [Going. K. Rich. Stay, madam, I must speak a word with you.
Q. Eliz. I have no more sons of the royal blood,
For thee to murder: for my daughters, Richard,They shall be praying nuns, not weeping
And therefore level not to hit their lives.
K. Rich. You have a daughter call'd-Elizabeth,
Virtuous aud fair, royal and gracious.
Which, thou supposest, I have done to thee. Q. Eliz. Be brief, lest that the process of thy kindness
Last longer telling than thy kindness' date. K. Rich. Then know, that, from my soul, I love thy daughter.
Q. Eliz. My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul.
K. Rich. What do you think?
Q. Eliz. That thou dost love my daughter, from thy soul:
So, from thy soul's love, didst thou love her brothers;
And, from my heart's love, I do thank thee for
K. Rich. Be not so hasty to confound my
I mean, that with my soul I love thy daughter,
K. Rich. Even he, that makes her queen :
Q. Eliz. What, thou?
Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl;
Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale;
K. Rich. Even so: What think you of it, The petty rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham,
Q. Eliz. How canst thou woo her?
A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave,
Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood,—
And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal.
Tell her, thou mad'st away her uncle Cla-
Her uncle Rivers; ay, and, for her sake,
Bound with triumphaut garlands will I come,
Would be her lord? Or shall I say, her uncle?
Under what title shall I woo for thee,
Your children were vexation to your youth,
I cannot make you what amends I would,
Familiarly shall call thy Dorset-brother;
Q. Eliz. Which she shall purchase with still lasting war.
K. Rich. Tell her the king, that may com.
Q. Eliz. That at her hands, which the king's
K. Rich. Say, she shall be a high and mighty
Q. Eliz. To wail the title, as her mother
K. Rich. Say, I will love her everlastingly.
K. Rich. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's
Q. Eliz. But how long fairly shall her sweet life last?
K. Rich. As long as heaven, and nature lengthens it.
Q. Eliz. As long as hell, and Richard, likes
K. Rich. Say, I her sovereign, am her subject low.
Q. Eliz. But she, your subject, loaths such
K. Rich. Be eloquent in my behalf to her.
K. Rich. Then, in plain teims, tell her my
Q. Eliz. Plain, and not honest, is too harsh a
K. Rich. Your reasons are too shallow and
Q. Eliz. Oh no, my reasons are too deep and
deep and dead, poor infants, in their