Queen. Nay then, indeed, fhe cannot chufe but hate
Having bought love with fuch a bloody spoil. [thee,
K. Rich. Look, what is done, cannot be now a-
Men fhall deal unadvisedly fometimes, [mended.
Which after hours give leisure to repent of.
If I did take the kingdom from your fons,
To make amends, I'll give it to your daughter.
If I have kill'd the iffue of your womb,
To quicken your increafe, I will beget
Mine iffue of your blood, upon your daughter.
A grandam's name is little lefs 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, fave for a night of groans
Endur'd of her for whom you bid like forrow.
Your children were vexation to your youth,
But mine fhall be a comfort to your age.
The lofs you have, is but a fon being King;
And by that lofs your daughter is made Queen..
I cannot make you what amends I would,
Therefore accept fuch kindness as I can.
Dorset your fon, that with a fearful foul
Leads difcontented steps in foreign foil,
This fair alliance quickly thail call home
To high promotions, and great dignity.
The King, that calls your beauteous daughter wife,
Familiarly fhall call thy Dorfet brother.
Again fhall you be mother to a King;
And all the ruins of diftrefsful 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, transform'd to orient pearl ;
Advantaging their loan with interest
Of ten times double gain of happiness.
Go then, my mother, to thy daughter go,
Make bold her bafhful 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 Princefs.
With the fweet filent hours of marriage-joys,
And when this arm of mine hath chaftifed
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 retale my conquest won,
And fhe fhall be fole victrefs, Cæfar's Cæfar.
Queen. What were I best to say, her father's brother
Would be her lord? or fhall I fay, her uncle?
Or he that flew her brothers and her uncles ?
Under what title fhall I woo for thee,
That God, the law, my honour, and her love,
Can make feem pleafing to her tender years?
K Rich. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance.
Queen Which fhe fhall purchase with ftill lafting 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, fhe fhall be a high and mighty Queen-
Queen. To wail the title, as her mother doth.
K. Rich. Say, I will love her everlastingly.
Queen. But how long fhall that title ever laft?
K. Rich. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end.
Queen. But how long, fairly, fhall her fweet life laft?
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 Sov'reign, am her subject now.
Queen But the, your fubject, lothes such sovreignty.
K. Rich. Be eloquent in my behalf to her.
Queen An honest tale speeds belt, being plainly told.
K. Rich. Then, in plain terms, tell her my loving tale.
Queen. Plain, and not honest, is too harsh a ftyle.
K. Rich. Your reafons are too thallow, and too quick.
Now, by my George, my garter, and my crown-
Queen Profan'd, difhonour'd, and the third ufurp'd.
K. Rich. I fwear.
Queen. O no, my reafons are too deep and dead; Two deep and dead poor infants in their grave;
Harp on i ftill fhall I, till heart-ftrings break.
K. Rich. Harp not on that string, Madam; that is past.
Queen. By nothing, for this is no oath.
The George profan'd, hath loft his holy honour :
The garter blemish'd, pawn'd his knightly virtue;
The crown ufurp'd, difgrac'd his kingly glory.
If fomething thou would'ft fwear to be believ d,
Swear then by fomething that thou haft 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. Thyfelf thyfelf mifufeft.
K. Rich. Why then, by heav'n
Queen. Heav'n's wrong is most of all.
If thou didst fear to break an oath with heav'n,
The unity the King my husband made
Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers dy'd.
If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath with heav'n,
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 canft thou fwear by now?
K. Rich. By time to come.
Queen. That thou haft wronged in the time e'erpaft: For I myself have many tears to wash
Hereafter time, for time paft, wrong'd by thee.
The children live, whofe fathers thou haft flaughter'd,
Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age.
The parents live, whose children thou haft butcher'd,
Old wither'd plants to wail it in their age *.
K. Rich. As I intend to profper and repent,
So thrive I in my dangerous attempt
Of hoftile arms! myself myfelf confound;
Heaven and Fortune bar me happy hours;
Day yield me not thy light, nor night thy reft;
Be oppofite all planets of good luck
Swear not by time to come, for that thou haft
Mifus'd ere us❜d, by times ill-us'd.o'erpast.
K. Rich. As I intend, &c.
To my proceeding; if with pure heart's love,
Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,
I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter !
In her confifts my happiness an i thine;
Without her, follows to myself and thee,
Herfelf, the land, and many a Chriftian foul,
Death, defolation, ruin, and decay.
It cannot be avoided but by this;
It will not be avoided but by this.
Therefore, dear mother, (I must call you so),
Be the attorney of my love to her;
Plead what I will be, not what I have been;
Not my deferts, but what I will deserve;
Urge the neceffity and ftate of times;
And be not peevith found in great designs.
Queen. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus ?
K. Rich. Ay, if the devil tempt you to do good.
Queen. Shall I forget myself to be myself?
K. Rich. Ay, if yourself's remembrance wrong yourfelf.
Queen. But thou didst kill my children.
K. Rich But in your daughter's womb I bury them;
Where in that neft of spicery they shall breed
Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.
Queen, Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?
K. Rich. And be a happy mother by the deed.
Queen. I go; write to me fhortly.
K. Rich. Bear her iny true love's kifs, and fo fare
Relenting fool, and fhallow, changing woman.
SCENE VI. Enter Ratcliff.
Rat. Molt mighty Sovereign, on the western coaft Rideth a puiffant navy: to our shores
doubtful hollow-hearted friends, Unarm'd, and unrefolv'd to beat them back. 'Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral: And there they hull, expecting but the aid Of Buckingham to welcome them afhore.
K. Rich. Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Ratcliff, thyself, or Catesby; where is he? Catef. Here, my good Lord.
K. Rich. Catesby, fly to the Duke.
Catef will, my Lord, with all convenient hafte. K Rich. Ratcliff, come hither, poft to Salisbury; When thou com'ft thither-Dull unmindful villain, [To Catesby.
Why ftay'st thou here, and go'ft not to the Duke? Catef. First, mighty Liege, tell me your highness' pleafure,
What from your Grace I fhall deliver to him.
K. Rich. O true, good Catesby,-bid him levy ftrait The greatest strength and power he can make, And meet me fuddenly at Salisbury.
Rat. What, may it please you, fhall I do at Salif
K. Rich. Why, what would't thou do there, before
Rat. Your Highness told me I fhould post before. K. Rich. My mind is chang d
Enter Lord Stanley.
Stanley, what news with you?
Stan None good, my Liege, to please you with the hearing;
Nor none fo bad, but well may be reported.
K. Rich. Heyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad: Why dost thou run fo many miles about,
When thou may'ft tell thy tale the nearest way?
Once more, what news!
Stan. Richmond is on the feas.
K. Rich. There let him fink, and be the feas on him! White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there?
Stan. I know not, mighty Sovereign, but by guess.
K. Rich. Well, as you guess?
Stan Stirr'd up by Doriet, Buckingham, and Morton, He makes for England here to claim the crown.
K Rich, Is the chair empty? is the fword unfway'd? Is the King dead? the empire unpoffets'd?
What heir of York is there alive but we?
And who is England's King, but great York's heir? Then tell me, what makes he upon the fea?
Stan. Unless for that, my Liege, I cannot guess.
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