For never yet one hour in his bed

Whose humble means match not his haughty mind:
Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep,

Gold were as good, as twenty orators,
But with lng timorous dreams was still awak'd. And will, no doubt, tempt him to any thing.
Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick; K. Rich. What is his name?
And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me,

Page. His name, my lord, is- Tyrrel.
Q. Eliz. Poor heart, adieu ! I pity thy complaining. K. Rich. I partly know the man. Go, call him hi-
Anne. No more than with my soull mourn for yours. ther, boy!-

[Exit Page. Dor. Farewell, thou woful welcomer of glory! The deep-revolving witty Buckingham

Anne. Adieu, poor soul, that tak’st thy leave of it! No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels:
Duch.Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide Hath he so long held out with me untir’d,
thee!

[To Dorset. And stops he now for breath ?-well, be it so !Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee!

Enter STANLEY.

[To Anne. How now, lord Stanley? what's the news ?
Go thou to sanctuary,and good thoughts possess thee! Stan. Know, my loving lord,

[To Q. Elizabeth. The marquis Dorset, as I hear, is fled
I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me! To Richmond, in the parts where he abides.
Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen;

K. Rich. Come hither, Catesby! Rumour it abroad,
And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen. That Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick ;
& Eliz. Stay yet; look back, with me, unto the I will take order of her keeping close.
Tower!

Inquire me out some mean-born gentleman,
Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes, Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' daughter:-
Whom envy hath immur'd within your walls! The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.
Rough cradle for such little pretty ones!

Look, how thou dream'st!- 1 say again, give out,
Rude ragged nurse! old sullen play-fellow That Anne my queen is sick, and like to die:
For tender princes, use my babies well!

About it; for it stands me much upon,
So foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell. (Exeunt. To stop all hopes, whose growth may damage me.“

[Exit Catesby.
SCENE II. - A room of state in the palace. I must be married to my brother's daughter,
Flourish of trumpets. Richard, as King, upon his or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass :
throne ; BUCKINGHAM, Catesby, a Page, and Others. Murder her brothers, and then marry her!
K. Rich. Stand all apart !--Cousin of Buckingham,- Uncertain way of gain! But I am in
Buck. My gracious sovereign!

So far in blood, that sin will pluck on sin.
K.Rich. Give me thy hand! Thus high, by thy advice, Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye. —
And thy assistance, is king Richard seated :

Re-enter Page, with Tyrrel.
But shall we wear these glories for a day? Is thy name Tyrrel ?
Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?

Tyr. James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject.
Buck. Still live they, and for ever let them last! K. Rich. Art thou, indeed ?
K. Rich. Ah, Buckingham, now do I play the touch, Tyr. Prove me, my gracions lord !
To try if thou be current gold, indeed ;

K. Rich. Dar'st thou resolve to kill a friend of
Young Edward lives; — think now what I would speak. mine?
Buck. Say on, my loving lord!

Tyr. Please you; but I had rather kill two enemies.
K. Rich. Why, Buckingham, I say, I would be king. K. Rich. Why, then thou hast it; two deep enemies,
Buck. Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned liege. Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleep's disturbers,
K. Rich. Ha! am I king? 'Tisso : but Edward lives. Are they that I would have thee deal upon :
Buck. True, noble prince !

Tyrrel, I mean those bastards in the Tower.
K. Rich. O bitter consequence,

Tyr. Let me have open means to come to them,
That Edward still should live,, true, noble prince!- And soon I'll rid you from the fear of them.
Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull:-

K. Rich. Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead;

hither, Tyrrel!
And I would have it suddenly perform’d.

Go, by this token :-rise, and lend thine ear:
What say'st thou now? speak suddenly, be brief!

[Whispers. Buck. Your grace may do your pleasure.

There is no more but so. - Say, it is done, K. Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness And I will love thee, and prefer thee for it. freezes :

Tyr. I will dispatch it straight.

[Erit. Say, have I thy consent, that they shall die ?

Re-enter BuckINGHAM.
Buck. Give me some breath, some little pause, dear Buck. My lord, I have considerd in my

mind
Iord,

The late demand that you did sound me in.
Before I positively speak in this:

K. Rich. Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to Rich-
I will resolve your grace immediately.

mond.

[Exit Buckingham. Buck. I hear the news, my lord. Cate. The king is angry; see, he gnaws his lip. K. Rich. Stanley, he is your wife's son. - Well,

[Aside. look to it! K. Rich. I will converse with iron-witted fools, Buck. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise,

[Descends from his throne. For which your honour and your faith is pawa'd; And unrespective boys; none are for me,

| The earldom of Hereford, and the moveables,
That look into me with considerate eyes;

Which you have promised I shall possess.
High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect. K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife; if she convey

Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.
Page. My lord!

Buck. What says your highness to my just request? K. Rich. Know'st thou not any, whom corrupting K. Rich. I do remember me, Henry the sixth gold

Did prophecy, that Richmond should be king,
Would tempt anto a close exploit of death ? When Richmond was a little peevish boy.
Page. I know a discontented gentleman,

A king! - perhaps —

Boy,

Buck. My lord, -
His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage;

I had K. Rich. How chance, the prophet could not at The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's hosom, I had that time

And Anne my wife hath bid the world good-night. Thou Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him? Now, for I know the Bretagne Richmond aims

Thor Buck. My lord, your promise for the earldom, - At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter,

Tut K. Rich. Richmond! - When last I was at Exeter, And, by that knot, looks proudly on the crown; I had The mayor, in courtesy, show'd me the castle, To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer.

l. And call'd it Rouge-mont: at which name, I

Enter Catesby. started; Cate. My lord,

From Because a bard of Ireland told me once,

K. Rich. Good news or bad, that thou com’st in I should not live long after I saw Richmond.

so bluntly?

That Buck. My lord,

Cate. Bad news, my lord! Morton is fled to Rich- To και K. Rich. Ay, what's o'clock?

mond;

That Buck. I am thus bold

And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welshmen, That To put your grace in mind of what you promis'dm me. Is in the field, and still his power encreaseth.

That K. Rich. Well, but what is't o'clock?

K. Rich. Ely with Richmond troubles me more near, Buck. Upon the stroke of ten.

Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength. OUP K. Rich. Well, let it strike.

Come, - I have learn’d, that fearful commenting How Buck. Why, let it strike? Is leaden servitor to dull delay;

Prer K. Rich. Because that, like a Jack, thou keep'st Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary. the stroke Then fiery expedition be my wing,

DIE Betwixt thy begging, and my meditation. Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king!

God I am not in the giving vein to-day. Go, muster men! My council is my shield;

. Buck. Why, then resolve me, whe'r you will, or no. We must be brief, when traitors brave the field. K. Rich. Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein.

(Exeunt. T) (Exeunt King Richard and Train, SCENE IV. The same. Before the palace. T Buck. And is it thus? repays he my deep service

Enter Queen MARGARET,
With such contempt? Made I him king for this? Q. Mar. So, now prosperity begins to mellow,
0, let me think on Hastings; and be gone
And drop into the rotten mouth of death.

Th To Brecknock, while my fearful head is on. (Exit. Here in these confines slily have I lurk’d,

AB
To watch the waning of mine enemies.

TH
SCENE III. - The same.
A dire induction am I witness to,

l'u
Enter TYRREL.
And will to France; hoping, the consequence

RiTyr. The tyrannous and bloody act is done; Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.

OE The most arch deed of piteous massacre,

Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret! who comes here ? Ai That ever yet this land was guilty of.

Enter Queen Elizabeth and the Duchess of Yons. E. Dighton, and Forrest, whom I did suborn

Q. Eliz. Ah, my poor princes! ah, my tender babes! Ea To do this piece of ruthless butchery, My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets!

TO Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs, If yet your gentle souls fly in the air,

CE Melting with tenderness and mild compassion, And be not fix'd in doom perpetual,

TI Wept like two children, in their death's sad story. Hover about me with your airy wings,

C O thus, quoth Dighton, lay the gentle babes, - And hear your mother's lamentation ! Thus, thus, quoth Forrest, girdling one another Q. Mar. Hover about her; say, that right for right TI Within their alabaster innocent arms:

Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night. TE Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,

Duch. So many miseries have craz'd my voice, Which, in their summer beauty, kiss'd each other. That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute, A book of prayers on their pillow lay;

Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead ? Which once, quoth Forrest, almost chang'd my mind; Q. Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet, But 0, the devil - there the villain stopp’d; Edward for Edward pays a dying debt.

1 When Dighton thus told on, we smothered l. Eliz. Wilt thou, o God, fly froin such gentle The most replenished sweet work of nature,

lambs, That, from the prime creation, ere she fram’d. -- And throw them in the entrails of the wolf? Hence both are gone with conscience and remorse, When didst thou sleep, when such a deed was done? They could not speak; and so I left them both, Q. Mar. When holy Harry died, and my sweet son, To bear this tidings to the bloody king.

Duch. Dead life, bliud sight, poor mörtal-living Enter King RICHARD,

ghost,
And here he comes: - - All health, my sovereign lord ! Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life
K. Rich. Kind Tyrrel! am I liappy in thy news? usurp'd,
Tyr. If to have done the thing you gave in charge Brief abstract and record of tedious days,
Beget your happiness, be happy then,

Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth,
For it is done.
K. Rich. But didst thou see them dead?

Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood!
Tyr. I did, my lord.

Q. Eliz. Ah, that thou would'st as soon afford a grare,
K. Rich. And buried, gentle Tyrrel ?

As thou canst yield a melancholy seat;
Tyr. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them; Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here!
But where, to say the truth, I do not know. Ah, who hath any cause to mourn, but we?

K. Rich. Come to me, Tyrrel, soon, at after supper,
When thou shalt tell the process of their death. Q. Mar. If ancient sorrow be most reverent,
Mean time, but think how I may do thee good, Give mine the benefit of seniory,
And be inheritor of thy desire.

And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.
Farewell, till then!

If sorrow can admit society,
Tyr. I humbly take my leave.

[Exit.
K. Rich. The son of Clarence have I penn'd up clo s; Tell o'er your woes again, by viewing mine :

[Sitting down.

(Sitting down by her

1

(Sitting down with them.

I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him; Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow?
I had a husband, till a Richard kill'd him : Now thy proud neck bears half my burden'd yoke,
Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him; From which even here I slip my wearied head,
Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard kill'd him. And leave the burden of it all on thee.

Dutch. I had a Richard too, and thon didst kill him; Farewell, York's wife, and queen of sad mischance.
I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him. These English woes shall make me smile in France.
Q. Mar. Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard Q. Eliz. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay a while,
kill'd him.

And teach me, how to curse mine enemies !
From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the day!
A hell-hound, that doth luntas all to death: Compare dead happiness with living woe!
That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes, Think, that thy babes were fairer, than they were,
To worry lambs, and lap their gentle blood; And he, that slew them, fouler than he is !
That foui defacer of God's handy-work;

Bettering thy loss makes the bad-causer worse;
That excellent grand tyrant of the earth, Revolving this will teach thee, how to cuirse.
That reigns in galled eyes oh weeping souls, Q. Eliz. My words are dull, 0, quicken them with
Thy womb let loose, to chase us to our graves.-

thine!
O upright, just, and true, disposing God,

Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce How do I thank thee, that this carnal cur

like mine.

[Exit . Margaret. Preys on the issue of his mother's body,

Dutch. Why should calamity be full of words?
And makes her pew-fellow with others' moan ! Q. Eliz. Windy attorneys to their client woes,
Dutch. O, Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes ; Airy succeeders of intestate joys,
God witness with me, I have wept for thine. Poor breathing orators of miseries!

Q. Mar. Bear with me! I am hungry for revenge, Let them have scope: though what they do impart
And now I cloy me with beholding it.

Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart.
Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward ; Dutch. If so, then be not tongue-ty’d! go with me,
Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward; And in the breath of bitter words let's smother
Young York he is but boot, because both they My damned son, that thy two sweet sons smother'd!
Match not the high perfection of my loss.

(Drum within.
Thy Clarence, he is dead, that stabb'd my Edward; I hear his drum, – be copious in exclaims !
And the beholders of this tragic play,

Enter King Richard, and his Train, marching.
The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedition?
Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves.

Durch. O, she, that might have intercepted thee,
Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer, By strangling thee in her accursed womb,
Only reserv'd their factor, to buy souls,

From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done.
And send them thither: but at hand, at hand, Q. Eliz. Hid'st thou that forehead with a golden
Ensues his piteous and unpitied end :

crown,
Earth gapes, hell barns, fiends roar, saints pray,

Where should be branded, if that right were right,
To have him suddenly convey'd from hence.
Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray,

The slaughter of the prince, that ow'd that crown,
That I may live to say, The dog is dead!

And the dire death of my poor sons, and brothers? Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophecy, the time would

Tell me, thou villain-slave, where are my children?

Dutch. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother come,

Clarence?
That I should wish for thee to help me curse
That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad. And little Ned Plantagenet, his son ?
Q. Mar. I cal”d thee then, vain flourish of my Q. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Grey?
fortune;

Dutch. Where is kind Hastings?
I call'd thee then, poor shadow, painted queen;

K.Rich. A flourish,trumpets! ---strike alarum,drums!

Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women
The presentation of but what I was,
The lattering index of a direful pageant,

Rail on the Lord's anointed! Strike, I say ! -
One heav'd a high, to be hurl'd down below,

(Flourish. Alarums. A mother only mock'd with two fair babes,

Either be patient, and entreat me fair,
A dream of what thou wast, a garish flag,

Or with the clamorous report of war
To be the aim of every dangerous shot,

Thus will I drowu your exclamations.
A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble,

Dutch. Art thou my son ?
A
in jest, only to fill the scene.

K. Rich. Ay; I thank God, my father, and yourself.
queen
Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers? Dutch. Then patiently hear my impatience!
Where be thy two sons? wherein dost thou joy?

K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your condition,
Who sues, and kneels, and says : God save the queen? That cannot brook the accent of reproof.

Dutch. 0, let me speak!
Where be the bending peers, that flatter'd thee?

K. Rich. Do, then! but I'll not hear.
Where be the thronging troops, that follow'd thee?
Decline all this, and see what now thou art :

Dutch. I will be mild and gentle in my words.
For happy wife, a most distressed widow ;

K. Rich. And brief, good mother! for I am in haste. For joyful mother, one that wails the name;

Dutch. Art thon so hasty? I have staid for thee,
For one being sued to, one that humbly sues;

God knows, in torment and in agony.
For queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care;

K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you?
For one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me;

Dutch. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well, For one beivg fear'd of all, now fearing one;

Thou cam’st on earth, to make the earth my hell.
For one commanding all, obey'd of none.

A grievous burden was thy birth to me;
Thus hath the course of justice wheeld about,

Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;
And left thee but a very prey to time,

Thy school-days, frightful, desperate, wild, and
Having no more but thought of what thou wert,

furious; To torture thee the more, being what thou art.

Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and venturous; Thou didst usurp my place; and dost thou not Thy age confirm’d, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody,

End You

I ca The

ness

More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred : Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd!

If I What comfortable hour canst thou name,

Q. Eliz. What good is cov:r'd with the face of Το That ever grac'd me in thy company?

heaven,

Miu K. Rich. 'Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that To be discover'd, that can do me good ? call'd your grace

K. Rich. The advancement of your children, gentle Thai To breakfast once, forth of my company.

lady!

TheIf I be so disgracious in your sight,

Q. Eliž. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their Ever Let me march on, and not offend

you,
madam!
heads?

Of a Strike up the drum!

K. Rich. No, to the dignity and height of fortune,
Dutch. I pr’ythee, hear me speak!

The high imperial type of this eartlı’s glory.
K. Rich. You speak too bitterly.
Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrows with report of it!

But Dutch. Hear mne a word !

Tell me, what state, what dignity, what honour, The For I shall never speak to thee again. Canst thou demise to any child of mine?

And K. Rich. So,

K. Rich. Even all I have; ay, and myself and all,
Dutch. Either thou wilt die, by God's just ordinance, Will I withal endow a child of thine,
Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror;
So in the Lethe of thy angry soul

Dor
Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish, Thou drown th: sad remembrance of those wrongs, Lea
And never look upon thy face again,
Which, thou supposest, I have done to thee.

Thi Therefore, take with thee my most heavy curse, Q. Eliz. Be brief, lest that the process of thy kind- To Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more,

Th Than all the complete armour, that thou wear'st! Last longer telling, than thy kindness' date!

Far My prayers on the adverse party fight;

K. Rich. Then know, that from my son) I love And there the litile sonls of Edward's children:

thy daughter. Whisper the spirits of thine enemies,

Q. Eliz. My daughter's mother thinks it with her he And promise them success and victory!

soul.

W Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end;

K. Rich. What do

you
think?

T Shame serves thy life, and doth thy death attend. l. Eliz. That thou dost love my daughter from $

[Exit.
thy soul:

A Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less 'So, from thy soul's love, didst thou love her brothers; 0 spirit to curse

And, from my heart's love, I do thank thee for it. GO Abides in me, I say amen to her.

[Going. K. Rich. Be not so hasty to confonnd my meaning: M K. Rich. Stay, madam, I must speak a word with I mean, that with my soul I love thy daughter,

PE yoll. And do intend to make her queen of England.

Р Q. Eliz. I have no more sous of the royal blood, Q. Eliz. Well then, who dost thou mean shall be For thee to murder: for my daughters, Richard, her king ? They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens; K. Rich. Even he that makes her queen. Who And therefore level not to hit their lives!

else should be?

T K. Rich. You have a daughter callid – Elizabeth, Q. Eliz. What, thou? Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.

K. Rich. Even so. What think you of it, madam? Q. Eliz. And must she die for this ? 0, let her live, Q. Eliz. How canst thon woo her ?

T And i'll corrupt her manuers, stain her beauty, K. Rich. That I would learn of you, Slander myself, as false to Edward's bed,

As one being best acquainted with her humous.
Throw over her the veil of infamy.

Q. Eliz. And wilt thou learn of me?
So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter, K. Rich. Madam, with all my heart!
I will confess, she was not Edward's daughter. Q. Eliz. Send to her, by the man,
K. Rich. Wrong not her birth! she is of royal blood. brothers,
Q. Eliz. To save her life, I'll say, she is not so. A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave,
K. Rich. Her life is safest only in her birth. Edward, and York; then, haply, will she weep,
Q. Eliz. And only in that safety died her brothers. Therefore present to her, --as sometime Margaret
K. Rich. Lo, at their births good stars were opposite. Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood, -
Q. Eliz. No, to their lives bad friends were contrary. A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain
X. Rich. All unavoided is the doom of destiny. The purple sap from her sweet brother's body,
Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes destiny: And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal!
My babes were destin'd to a fairer death,

If this inducement move her not to love,
If
grace
had bless'd thee with a fairer life.

Send her a letter of thy noble deeds!
K. Rich. You speak, as if that I had slain my cou- Tell her, thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence,
sins.

Her uncle Rivers , ay, and for her sake,
Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle cozen’d Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne!
of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.

K. Rich. You mock me, madam; this is not the way
Whose hands soever lauc'd their tender hearts, To win your daughter.
Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction :

Q. Eliz. There is no other way;
No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt, Unless thou could'st put on some other shape,
Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart, And not be Richard, that hath done all this.
To revel in the entrails of my lambs.

K. Rich. Say, that I did all this for love of her?
But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame, Q. Eliz. Nay, theu indeed, she cannot choose but
My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys,

have thee,
Till that my nails were anchor’d in thine eyes; Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.
And I, in such a desperate bay of death,

K. Rich. Look, what is done,cannot be now ameud-
Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft,

ed :
Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom.

Men shall deal onadvisedly sometimes,
K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprize, Which after-hours give leisure to repent.
And dangerous success of bloody wars,

If I did take the kingdom froin your sons,
As I intend more good to you and yours, To make amends, l'il give it to your daughter.

that slew her

:

is past.

If I have kill'd the issue of your womb,

Q. Eliz. O, no, my reasons are too deep and dead ;-
To quichen your increase, I will beget

Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves.
Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter. K. Rich. Harp not on that string, madam! that
A grandam’s name is little less in love,
Than is the doting title of a mother;

Q. Eliz. Harp on it still shall I, till heart-strings
They are as children, but one step below,

break. Even of your mettle,of your very blood ;

K. Rich. Now, by my George, my garter, and my Of all one pain, — save for a night of groans

crown,
Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow. Q. Eliz. Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third usurp'd.
Your children were vexation to your youth,

K. Rich. I swear.
But mine sliall be a comfort to your age.

& Eliz. By nothing; for this is no oath.
The loss, you have, is but — a son being king, Thy George, profan'd, hath lost his holy hononr;
And, by that loss! your daughter is made queen. Thy garter, blemislı’d, pawu'd his knightly virtue;
I cannot make you what amends I would, Thy crown, usurp’d, disgrac'd his kingly glory.
Therefore accept such kindness as I can!

If something thou would'st swear to be believ'd,
Dorset, your son, that, with a fearful soul, Swear then by something, that thou hast not wrong'd.
Leads discontented steps in foreign soil,

K. Rich. Now, by the world, –
This fair alliance quickly shall call home

Q. Eliz. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs.
To high promotions and great dignity:

K. Rich. My father's death,
The king, that calls your beauteous daughter, wife, Q. Eliz. Tliy life hath that dishonour'd.
Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother;

K. Rich. Then, by myself, —
Again shall you be mother to a king,

Q. Eliz. Thyself is self misus'd.
And all the ruins of distressful times

H. Rich. Why then, by God, -
Repair'd with double riches of content.

Q. Eliz. God's wrong is most of all.
What! we have many goodly days to see:

If thou had'st fear'd to break an oath by him,
The liquid drops of'tears, that you have shed, The unity, the king thy brother made,
Shall come again transform’d to orient pearl, Had not been broken, nor my brother slain.
Advantaging their loan, with interest

If thou had'st fear'd to break an oath by him,
Of ten-times double gaip of happiness.

The imperial metal, circling now thy head,
Go then, my mother, to thy danghter go!

Had grac'd the tender temples of my

child ; Make bold her bashful years with your experience! And both the princes had been breathing here, Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale!

Which now, two tender bed-fellows for dust,
Put iu her tender heart the aspiring flame

Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms.
of golden sov’reiguty! acquaint the princess What canst thou swear by now?
With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys! K. Rich. By the time to come.
And when this arm of mine hath chastised

Q. Eliz. That thou hast wronged in the time o'erpast;
The petty rebel, dull-braiu'd Buckingham, For I myself have many tears to wash
Boumd with triumphant garlands will I come, Hereafter time, for time past, wrong'd by thec.
And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed; The children live, whose parents thou hast slaught-
To whom I will retail my conquest won,

er’d,
And she shall be sole victress, Caesar's Caesar. Ungovern’d youth, to wail it in their age;
Q. Eliz. What were I best to say? her father's The parents live, whose children thou hast butcher'd,
brother

old barren plants, to wail it with their age.
Would be her lord? Or, shall I say, her uncle? Swear not by time to come! for that thou hast
Or, he that slew her brothers, and her uncles ? Misus'd cre used, by times ill-us'd o'er-past.
Under what title shall I woo for thee,

K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and repent!
That God, the law, my honour, and her love, So thrive I in my dangerous attempt
Can make seem pleasing to her tender years ? Of hostile arms! myself myself confound !
K. Rich. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance! Heaven, and fortune, bar me happy hours !
Q. Eliz. Which she shall purchase with still lasting Day, yield me not thy light, nor, night, thy rest!

Be opposite all planets of good luck
K. Rich. Tell her, the king, that may command. To my proceeding, if, with pure heart's love,
entreats.

Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,
Q. Eliz. That at her hands, which the king's King I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter!
forbids.

In her consists my happiness, and thine;
K. Rich. Say, she shall be a high and mighty queen! Without her, follows to myself, and thee,
Q. Eliz. To wail the title, as her mother doth. Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul,
K. Rich. Say, I will love her everlastingly. Death, desolation, ruin, and decay.
Q Eliz. But how long shall that title, ever, last? It cannot be avoided, but by this;
K. Rich. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end. It will not be avoided, but by this.
Q. Eliz. But how long fairly shall her sweet life Therefore, dear mother, (I must call you so,)
last?

Be the attorney of my love to her!
K. Rich. As long, as heaven,and nature,lengthens it. Plead what I will be, not what I have been;
P. Eliz. As long, as hell, and Richard, likes of it. Not my deserts, but what I will deserve!
K. Rich. Say, 1, her sov'reign, am her subject low! Urge the necessity and state of times,
8. Eliz. But she, your subject, loaths such sor- And be not peevish found in great designs !
reignty.

Q. Eliz. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus ?
K. Rich. Be eloquent in my behalf to her! K. Rich. Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do good.
0. Eliz. An honest tale speeds best, being plainly Q. Eliz. Shall I forget myself, to be myself?
told.

K. Rich. Ay, if your self's remembrance wrong
K. Rich. Then,in plain terms tell her my loving tale! yourself.
l. Eliz. Plain, and not honest, is too harsh a style. 0. Eliz. But thou didst kill my children.
K. Rich. Your reasons are too shallow and too quick. K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I bury them:

war.