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K. Rich. Ev'n he that makes her queen ; who else

should be ?
Queen. What, thou !
K. RICH. Even so; how think you of it ?
QUEEN. How canst thou woo her?

K, Rich. I would learn of you,
As one being best acquainted with her humour.

Queen. And wilt thou learn of me?
K. Rich. With all my heart.

Queen. Send to her, by the man that few her brothers
A pair of bleeding hearts ; thereon engrave
Edward and York ; then haply will she weep:
Therefore present to her, as sometime Margret
Did to thy father, steept in Rutland's blood,
A handkerchief; which say to her, did drain
The purple tide from her sweèt brothers' bodies,
And bid her wipe her weeping eyes therewith.
If this inducement move her not to love,
Send her a letter of thy noble deeds ;
Tell her, thou mad'It away her uncle Clarence,
Her uncle Rivers; ay, and for her fake,
Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne.

K. RICh. You mock me, madam; this is not the way To win your daughter. QUEEN. There's no other

way, Unless thou could'st put on some other shape, And not be Richard that hath done all this.

K. Rich. Say, that I did all this for love of her.

Queen. Nay then, indeed, she cannot chuse. but hate thee; Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.

K. Ricu. Look, what is done cannot be now amended; Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,

Which after hours give leisure to repent of.
If I did take the kingdom from your sons,
To make amends, I'll give it to your daughter.
If I have kill'd the ifsue of your womb,
To quicken your increase I will beget
Mine issue of your blood, upon your daughter,
A grandam's name is little less in love,
Than is the doting title of a mother;
They are as children but one step below,
Even of your metal, of your very

blood :
Of all one pain, save for a night of groans
Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like forrow,
Your children were vexation to your youth,
But mine shall be a comfort to your age.
The loss you have, is but a son being king;
And by that loss your daughter is made queen.
I cannot make you what amends I would,
Therefore accept such kindness as I can.
Dorset your son, that with a fearful fou!
Leads discontented steps in foreign foil
This fair alliance quickly shall call home
To high promotions and great dignity.
The king, that calls your beautéous daughter wife,
Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother.'
Again fhall you be mother to a king;
And all the ruins of distressful times
Repair'd with double riches of content.
What! we have many goodly days to fee.
The liquid drops of tears, that you have shed,
Shall come again transformn'd co orient pearl;
Advantaging their lone with ic!erest
Of ten times double gain of Happirefs.

Go then, my mother, to thy daughter go ;
Make bold her bashful years with your experience ;
Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale ;
Put in her tender heart th: aspiring flame
Of golden fov'reignty; acquaint the princess
With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys.
And when this arm of mine hath chastised
The petty rebel, dull-brain’d Buckingham,
Bound with triumphant garlands will I come,
And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed;
To whom I will retail my conquest won,
And she shall be sole victress ; Cæsar's Cæsar.

Queen. What were I best to say, her father's brother
Would be her Lord ? or shall I fay, her uncle ?
Or he that slew her brothers, and her uncles ?
Under what title shall I woo for thee,
That God, the law, my honour, and her love,
Can make seem pleasing to her tender years ?

K. Rich. Iofer fair England's peace by this alliance. Queen. Which she shall purchase with still lasting war. K Rich. Tell her, the King, that may command, in


Queen. That at her hands, which the king's King forbids.

K. Rich. Say, she hall he a high and mighty Queen.-
QUEEN. To wail her title, as her mother doth.
K. Rich. Say, I will love her everlastingly.
Queen. But how long shall that title, ever, last?
K. Rich. Sweetly in force, unto her fair lise's end,
Queen. But how long, fairly, shall her sweet life last?
K. Rich. As long as heav'n and nature lengthen it.
Queen. As long as hell and Richard like of it.

K. Rich. Say I, her fovoreign am her subject now.
Queen. But she, your subject, loaths such sov'reignty.
K. Rich. Be eloquent in my behalf to her.
QUEEN. An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told.
K. Rich. Then, in plain terms tell her my loving tale.
Queen. Plain, and not honest, is too harsh a stile.
K. Rich. Your reasons are too shallow and too quick.

QUEEN. O no, my reasons are too deep and dead;
Two deep and dead poor infants in their grave ; ,
Harp on it still shall I, till heart-strings break.

K. Rich. Harp not on that string, Madam; that is part.
Now by my George, my garter, and my crown-
Queen: Profan’d, dishonour'd, and the third usurpd.
K. Rich. I swear."

Queen. By nothing; for this is no oath.
The George, profan’d; hath lost his holy honour;
The garter, blemish'd, pawn'd his knightly virtue ;
The crown, usurp’d, disgrac'd his kingly glory.
If something thou wouldst swear to be believ'd,
Swear then by something that thou hast not wrong'd.

K. Rich. Now by the world
Queen. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs.
K. Rich. My father's death-
QUEEN. Thy life hath that dishonour'd.
K. Rich. Then by myself.
Queen. Thyself thyself misusest.
K. Rich. Why then, by heav'n-

Queen. Heav'n's wrong is most of all.
If thou didit fear to break an oath with heav'n,
The unity the king my husband made
Thou had'It not broken, nor my brothers dy'd.
If thou hadit fear'd to break an oath with heav'a,

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Th' imperial metal circling now thy head
Had grac'd the tender temples of my child';
And both the princes had been breathing here;
Which now two tender bed-fellows for duft,
Thy broken faith hath made a prey to worms.
What canst thou swear by now?

K. Rich. By time to come.

QUEEN, That thou haft wronged in the time o’erpast,
For I myself have many tears to wash
Hereafter time, for time past, wrong?d by thee.
The children live, whose fathers thou hast slaughter’d,
Ungovero'd youth, to wail it in their age.
The parents live, whose children thou hast butcher'd,
Old wither'd plants, to wail it in their age.
Swear not by time to come, for that thou haft
Misus'd ere us’d, by times ill-us'd o'er paft.

K. Rich. As I intend to prosper and repent,
So thrive I in my dangerous attempt
Of hostile arms ! myself, myself confound,
Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours,
Day yield me not thy light, nor night thy rest,
Be opposite all planets of good luck
To my proceeding ; if with pure heart's love,
Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,
I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter.
In her consists my happiness, and thiae;
Without her, follows to myself and thee,
Herself, the land, and many a christian foul,
Death, desolation, ruin, and decay.
It cannot be avoided, but by this ;
It will not be avoided, but by
Therefore, dear mother, (I must call you so,)



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