For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd; K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife; if the convey Letters to Richmond, you fhall answer it. Buck. What fays your Highness to my just request? K. Rich I do remember me -Henry the Sixth Did prophefy, that Richmond should be King, When Richmond was a little peevish boy. A King, perhaps Buck. My Lord, K. Rich. How chance the prophet could not at that time Have told me, I being by, that I fhould kill him? 1 should not live long after I saw Richmond. Buck My Lord K. Rich. Ay, what's o'clock? Buck. I am thus bold to put your Grace in mind Of what you promis'd me. K Rich. But what's o'clock ? Buck, Upon the stroke of ten. K. Rich. Because that, like a jack, thou keep'ft the Betwixt thy begging and my meditation. I am not in the giving vein to-day. [itroke Buck. Why, then refolve me whe'r you will or no. [Exit. Buck. Is it ev'n fo? repays he my deep fervice With fuch contempt ? made I him King for this? , let me think on Haftings, and be gone To Brecknock, while my fearful head is on, [Exit. SCENE III. Enter Tyrrel. Tyr. The tyrannous and bloody act is done • That ever yet this land was guilty of! Albeit they were fleth'd Villains, bloody dogs, Melting with tenderness and mild compaffion, • Wept like two children, in their deaths' sad story. O thus (quoth Dighton) lay the gentle babes; Thus, thus, (quoth Forreit), girdling one another • Within their innocent alabaster arms: Their lips were four red roles on a stalk, Which once (quoth Forreft) alnost chang'd my mind, But, oh! the devil-there the villains ftopp'd: When Dighton thus told on-we fmothered • The molt replenished sweet work of nature, • That from the prime creation e'er fhe framed • Hence both are gone with confcience and remorfe ; • They could not speak, and fo I left them both, • To bear these 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 charge Beget your happinefs, be happy then; For it is done. K. Rich. But didst thou fee them dead? K. Rich. And buried, gentle Tyrrel? Tyr. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them; But where, to fay the truth, I do not know. K. Rich. Come to me, Tyrrel, foon. soon after fupper, When thou shalt tell the process of their death. Mean time- -but think how I may do thee goud, And be inheritor of thy defire. Farewel till then. Tyr. i humbly take my leave. [Exit. K. Rich. The ion of Clarence have I pent up close; His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage; The fons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bofom ; ̈ And Anne my wife hath bid this world good night. Now, for I know the Briton Richmond aims Catef My Lord, Enter Catesby. K. Rich. Good or bad news, that thou com'ft in fo Catef. Bad news, my Lord. Morton is fled to Richmond; And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welchmen, Is in the field, and still his power increaseth. K. Rich. Ely with Richmond troubles me more near, Than Buckingham and his rafh-levied army. Come, I have learn d, that fearful commenting Is leaden fervitor to dull delay; Delay leads impotent and fnail-pac'd beggary. "Then fiery Expedition be my wing, "Jove's Mercury, and herald for a King!" Go mufter men; my countel is my thield; We must be brief when traitors brave the field. [Exit. 2. Mar. So now profperity begins to mellow, And will to France, hoping the confequence Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret! Who comes here? Queen. Ah, my poor princes! ah, my tender babes! My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets! If yet your gentle fouls fly in the air, 2 Mar. Hover about her; fay, that wrong for wrong Hath dimm'd your infant-morn to aged night. * Bishop of Ely. Duch. So many miferies have craz'd my voice, That my woe-wearied tongue is ftill and mute. Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead? 2. Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet, Edward for Edward pays a dying debt. Queen. Wilt thou, O God, fly from fuch gentle lambs, And throw them in the intrails of the wolf? Why didst thou fleep when fuch a deed was done? Then would I hi ie my bones, not rest them here. 2 Mar. If ancient forrow be moft reverend, Give mine the benefit of feniority; And let my griefs frown on the upper hand. Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine. Duch. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him ; I had a Ru land too, thou holp'ft to kill him. 2 Mar. Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard kill'd him. From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept -and my fweet fon. Duch. Dead life, blind fight, poor mortal living ghoft, Reft thy unreft on England's lawful earth, And makes her pue-fellow with others' moan! Duch. Oh, Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes: God witness with me, I have wept for thine. 2. Mar. Bear with me, I am hungry for revenge. The adulterer Haftings, Rivers, Vaughan, Gray, And fend them thither: but at hand, at hand, Infues his piteous and unpitied end. Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, faints pray, for vengeance. Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, That may live to fay, The dog is dead! Queen. Oh! thou didst prophefy, the time would I call'd thee then, poor fhadow, painted Queen, The flatt'ring index of a direful page; Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers? X |