Buck. To-morrow may it please you to be crown'd? Glo. Even when you please, since you will have it so. Buck. To-morrow then we will attend your grace; And so most joyfully, we take our leave. Glo. Come, let us to our holy work again : [To the Bishops. Farewell, good cousin ;- farewell, gentle friends. [Exeunt. ACT IV. And, in good time, here the lieutenant comes. — I may not suffer you to visit them; The king hath strictly charg'd the contrary. I mean, the lord protector. Q. Eliz. The Lord protect him from that kingly Hath he set bounds between their love, and me? Anne. Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news Dor. Be of good cheer: Mother, how fares your grace? Q. Eliz. O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee gone, Death and destruction dog thee at the heels; Stan. Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam : Take all the swift advantage of the hours; Duch. O ill-dispersing wind of misery! Stan. Come, madam, come; I in all haste was Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse; When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his hands, Which issu'd from my other angel husband, Anne. Their aunt I am in law, in love their And that dead saint which then I weeping follow'd; O, when, I say, I look'd on Richard's face, Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death! And prov'd the subject of mine own soul's curse: Anne. No more than with my soul I mourn for yours. Dor. Farewell, thou woful welcomer of glory! And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen. Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes, [Exeunt. SCENE II. — A Room of State in the Palace. Flourish of trumpets. RICHARD, as King upon his throne; BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, a Page, and others. K. Rich. Stand all apart. ham, The deep-revolving witty Buckingham How now, lord Stanley? what's the news? Buck. My gracious sovereign. Inquire me out some mean-born gentleman, K. Rich. Give me thy hand. Thus high, by thy The boy is foolish, and I fear not him. — advice, Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull: :- K. Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness Say, have I thy consent, that they shall die? Before I positively speak in this. [Erit BUCKINGHAM. Cate. The king is angry; see, he gnaws his lip. [Aside. K. Rich. I will converse with iron-witted fools, [Descends from his throne. And unrespective boys; none are for me, Look, how thou dream'st! I say again, give out, To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me. — I must be married to my brother's daughter, Re-enter Page, with TYRREL. Tyr. Please you; but I had rather kill two enemies. Tyr. Let me have open means to come to them, Rise, and lend thine ear: There is no more but so: Say, it is done, Re-enter BUCKINGHAM. [Erit. Buck. My lord, I have consider'd in my mind The late demand that you did sound me in. K. Rich. Well, let tnat rest. Richmond. Dorset is fled to Buck. I hear the news, my lord. That, from the prime creation, e'er she fram`d. K. Rich. Stanley, he is your wife's son: - - Well, To bear this tidings to the bloody king. 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, Which you have promised I shall possess. K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife; if she convey Letters to Richmond, 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 Richmond should be king, When Richmond was a little peevish boy. A king! — perhaps Buck. My lord, Betwixt thy begging and my meditation. I am not in the giving vein to-day. Buck. Why, then resolve me whe'r you will, or no. K. Rich. Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. [Exeunt KING RICHARD and Train. Buck. And is it thus? repays he my deep service With such contempt? made I him king for this? O, let me think on Hastings; and be gone To Brecknock, while my fearful head is on. [Exit. 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: Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, Which, in their summer beauty, kiss'd each other. A book of prayers on their pillow lay: Which once, quoth Forrest, almost chang'd my But, 0, the devil· there the villain stopp'd; When Dighton thus told on, -we smothered The most replenished sweet work of rature, mind; K. Rich. Kind Tyrrel! am I happy in thy news? Tyr. If to have done the thing you gave in charge Beget your happiness, be happy then, For it is done. K. Rich. But didst thou see them dead? Tyr. I did, my lord. K. Rich. And buried, gentle Tyrrel? Tyr. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them; But where, to say the truth, I do not know. K. Rich. Come to me, Tyrrel, soon, at after supper, When thou shalt tell the process of their death. Mean time, but think how I may do thee good, And be inheritor of thy desire. Farewell, till then. Tyr. [Ext. I humbly take my leave. K. Rich. The son of Clarence have I penn'd up close; His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage; Cate. My lord, K. Rich. Good news or bad, that thou com'st in so bluntly? Cate. Bad news, my lord: Morton is fled to Richmond; And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welshmen, Is in the field, and still his power encreaseth. K. Rich. Ely with Richmond troubles me more Enter QUEEN MARGARET. Q. Mar. So, now prosperity begins to mellow. And will to France; hoping, the consequence And be not fix'd in doom perpetual, Hover about me with your airy wings, And hear your mother's lamentation ! Q. Mar. Hover about her; say, that right for right Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night. Duch. So many miseries have craz'd my voice, That my woe-wearied tongue is stiil and mute, Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead? Q. Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet, Edward for Edward pays a dying debt. Q. Eliz. Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs, And throw them in the entrails of the wolf? Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life usurp'd, Brief abstract and record of tedious days, [Sitting down. Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood! Q. Eliz. Ah, that thou would'st as soon afford a grave, As thou canst yield a melancholy seat; [Sitting down ty her [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 aim: Thou 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 Q. Mar. Bear with ine; I am hungry for revenge, And now I cloy me with beholding it. Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward; Ensues his piteous and unpitied end: Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophecy, the time would come, That I should wish for thee to help me curse I call'd thee then, poor shadow, painted queen; Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee? These English woes shall make me smile in France 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 fast the Compare dead happiness with living woe; Q. Eliz. My words are dull, O, quicken them with thine! Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce like mine. (Erit Q. MARGARET. Duch. Why should calamity be full of words? Q. Eliz. Windy attorneys to their client woes, Airy succeeders of intestate joys, Poor breathing orators of miseries! Let them have scope: though what they do impart Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart. Duch. If so, then be not tongue-ty'd go with me, And in the breath of bitter words let's smother My damned son, that thy two sweet sons smother'd [Drum, within I hear his drum, -be copious in exclaims. Enter KING RICHARD, and his Train, marching. crown, Where should be branded, if that right were right, And little Ned Plantagenet, his son? Q. Eliz. I have no more sons of the royal blood, Q. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, And therefore level not to hit their lives. Duch. Where is kind Hastings? K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets!-strike alarum, Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women Either be patient, and entreat me fair, K. Rich. Ay; I thank God, my father, and Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience. K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your condition, K. Rich. Duch. Art thou so hasty? I have staid for thee, K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you? Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and venturous, K. Rich. 'Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that To breakfast once, forth of my company. Let me march on, and not offend you, madam. Duch. I pr'ythee, hear me speak. K. Rich. You speak too bitterly. Duch. K. Rich. You have a daughter call'd - Elizabeth, Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? O, let her live, So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter, Q. Eliz. To save her life, I'll say - she is not so. K. Rich. Her life is safest only in her birth. Q. Eliz. No, to their lives bad friends were con- K. Rich. All unavoided is the doom of destiny. Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes destiny: My babes were destin'd to a fairer death, If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life. K. Rich. You speak, as if that I had slain ny cousins. Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt, K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprize, Q. Eliz. What good is cover'd with the face of For I shall never speak to thee again. K. Kich. So. Duch. Either thou wilt die, by God's just or- Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror; 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. Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrows with report of it; Tell me, what state, what dignity, what honour, Canst thou demise to any child of mine? K Rich. Even all I have; ay, and myself and all |