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Being a bark to brook no mighty sea
Than in my greatness covet to be hid,
And in the vapour of my glory smother'd.
But, God be thank'd, there is no need of me;
(And much I need to help you, if need were);
The royal tree hath left us royal fruit,

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Which, mellow'd by the stealing hours of time,
Will well become the seat of majesty,

And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign.
On him I lay what you would lay on me,

The right and fortune of his happy stars,

Which, God defend, that I should wring from him! Buck. My lord, this argues conscience in your grace; But the respects thereof are nicet and trivial,

All circumstances well considered.

You say, that Edward is your brother's son;
So say we too, but not by Edward's wife:
For first he was contract to lady Lucy,
Your mother lives a witness to his vow;
And afterwards by substitute betrothed
To Bona, sister to the king of France.
These both put by, a poor petitioner,
A care-crazed mother to a many sons,
A beauty-waning and distressed widow,
Even in the afternoon of her best days,
Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye,
Seduced the pitch and height of all his thoughts
To base declension and loath'd bigamy:

By her, in his unlawful bed, he got

This Edward, whom our manners call-the prince.
More bitterly could I expostulate,,

Save that, for reverence to some alive,

I give a sparing limit to my tongue.

Then, good my lord, take to your royal self
This proffer'd benefit of dignity:

If not to bless us and the land withal,
Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry
From the corruption of abusing time,
Unto a lineal true-derived course.

May. Do, good my lord; your citizens entreat you.
Buck. Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer'd love.
Cate, O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit.
Glo. Alas, why would you heap those cares on me?
I am unfit for state and majesty:

I do beseech you, take it not amiss;

I cannot, nor I will not, yield to you.

Buck. If you refuse it,-as in love and zeal,
Loath to depose the child, your brother's son;
As well we know your tenderness of heart,
And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,
Which we have noted in you to your kindred,

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Want ability.

+ Minute.

: Pity.

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And equally, indeed, to all estates,
Yet know, whe'r you accept our suit or no,
Your brother's son shall never reign our king;
But we will plant some other in your throne,
To the disgrace and downfal of your house.
And, in this resolution, here we leave you;
Come, citizens, we will entreat no more.

[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Citizens. Cate. Call them again, sweet prince, accept their suit; If you deny them, all the land will rue it.

Glo. Will you enforce me to a world of cares?
Well, call them again; I am not made of stone,
But penetrable to your kind entreaties,
Albeit against my conscience and my soul.-

[Exit CATESBY.

Re-enter BUCKINGHAM and the rest.
Cousin of Buckingham, and sage, grave men,-
Since you will buckle fortune on my back,
To bear her burden, whe'r I will, or no,
I must have patience to endure the load:
But if black scandal, or foul-faced reproach,
Attend the sequel of your imposition,
Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me
From all the impure blots and stains thereof;
For God he knows, and you may partly see,
How far I am from the desire of this.

May. God bless your grace! we see it, and will say it.
Glo. In saying so, you shall but say the truth.
Buck. Then I salute you with this royal title,-
Long live king Richard, England's worthy king!
All. Amen!

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.

SCENE I-Before the Tower.

Enter on one side, QUEEN ELIZABETH, Duchess of YORK, and Marquis of DORSET; on the other, ANNE, Duchess of GLOSTER, leading LADY MARGARET PLANTAGENET, CLARENCE'S young daughter.

Duch. Who meets us h us here ?-my niece Plantagenet, Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloster P

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E

Now, for my life, she's wand'ring to the Tower, in 167
On pure heart's love, to greet the tender prince.
Daughter, well met."

Anne. God give your graces both

A happy and a joyful time of day!

Q. Eliz. As much to you, good sister! Whither away? Anne. No further than the Tower; and, as I guess, Upon the like devotion as yourselves,

To gratulate the gentle princes there.

Q. Eliz. Kind sister, thanks; we'll enter all together:

Enter BRAKENBURY.

And, in good time, here the lieutenant comes.-
Master lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,
How doth the prince, and my young son of York?
Brak. Right well, dear madam: By your patience,
I may not suffer you to visit them;

The king hath strictly charged the contrary.
Q. Eliz. The king! who's that?

Brak. I mean, the lord protector.

Q. Eliz. The Lord protect him from that kingly title!
Hath he set bounds between their love and me?
I am their mother, who shall bar me from them?
Duch. I am their father's mother, I will see them.
Anne. Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother:
Then bring me to their sights; I'll bear thy blame,
And take thy office from thee, on thy peril.

Brak. No, madam, no, I may not leave it so;
I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.

Enter STANLEY.

[Exit BRAKENBURY.

Stan. Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence,
And I'll salute your grace of York as mother,
And reverend looker-on of two fair queens.-
Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster.

[To the Duchess of GLOSTER.

There to be crowned Richard's royal queen.
Q. Eliz. Ah, cut my lace asunder!
That my pent heart may have some scope to beat,
Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news.

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;
Thy mother's name is ominous to children:
If thou wilt outstrip death, go cross the seas,
And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell.
Go, hie thee, hie thee, from this slaughter-house,
Lest thou increase the number of the dead;
And make me die the thrall of Margaret's curse,-
Nor mother, wife, nor England's counted queen.

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Stan. Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam:-
Take all the swift advantage of the hours;
You shall have letters from me to my son
In your behalf, to meet you on the way:
Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.

Duch. O ill dispersing wind of misery
O my accursed womb, the bed of death;
A cockatrice* hast thou hatch'd to the world,
Whose unavoided eye is murderous !

Stan. Come, madam, come; I in all haste was sent.
Anne. And I with all unwillingness will go.-

O, would to God, that the inclusive verge
Of golden metal,t that must round my brow,
Were red-hot steel, to sear me to the brain!
Anointed let me be with deadly venom;
And die, ere men can say-God save the queen!
Q. Eliz. Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory;
To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm.

Anne. No! why ?-When he, that is my husband now,

Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse;

When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his hands,
Which issued from my other angel husband,

And that dead saint which then I weeping follow'd;

O, when, I say, I look'd on Richard's face,

This was my wish,-Be thou, quoth I, accursed,
For making me, so young, so old a widow!

And, when thou wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;
And be thy wife (if any be so mad)

More miserable by the life of thee,

Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death.
Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,

Even in so short a space, my woman's heart
Grossly grew captive to his honey words,

And proved the subject of mine own soul's curse:
Which ever since hath held mine eyes from rest;
For never yet one hour in his bed

Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep,

But with his timorous dreams was still awaked.
Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick;

And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.

Q. Eliz. Poor heart, adieu; I pity thy complaining.
Anne. No more than with my soul I mourn for yours.
Dor. Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory!
Anne. Adieu, poor soul, that tak'st thy leave of it!

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h. Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee!
[To DORSET.
[To ANNE.

Go thor to Richard, and good angels tend thee!
Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee!
[To QUEEN ELIZABETH.

I to my trave, where peace and rest lie with me.

A serpent supposed to originate from a cock's egg.
The crown.

Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen,

And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen.*

Q. Eliz. Stay yet; look back, with me unto the Tower.-
Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes,

Whom envy hath immured within your walls!
Rough cradle for such little pretty ones!
Rude ragged nurse! old sullen play-fellow
For tender princes, use my babies well!
So foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell.

SCENE II-A Room of State in the Palace.

[Excunt.

Flourish of Trumpets. RICHARD, as King upon his Throne;
BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, a PAGE, and others.

K. Rich. Stand all apart. Cousin of Buckingham,——
Buck. My gracious sovereign.

K. Rich. Give me thy hand. Thus high, by thy advice,
And thy assistance, is king Richard seated:-

But shall we wear these glories for a day?

Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?

Buck. Still live they, and for ever let them last!

K. Rich. Ah, Buckingham, now do I play the touch,† To try if thou be current gold, indeed:

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Young Edward lives;-Think now what I would speak.
Buck. Say on, my loving lord.

K. Rich. Why, Buckingham, I say, I would be king.
Buck. Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned liege.
K. Rich. Ha! am I king? "Tis so: but Edward lives.
Buck. True, noble prince.

K. Rich. O bitter consequence,

That Edward still should live,-true, noble prince !-
Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull:-

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Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead:
And I would have it suddenly perform'd.
What say'st thou now! speak suddenly, be brief.
Buck. Your grace may do your pleasure.

K. Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes:

Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?

Buck. Give me some breath, some little pause, dear lord, Before I positively speak in this:

I will resolve your grace immediately.

[Exit BUCKINGHAM. [Aside.

Cate. The king is angry; see he gnaws his lip.
K. Rich. I will converse with iron-witted fools,

[Descends from his throne.

And unrespective boys: none are for me,
That look into me with considerate eyes;-
High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect.-
Boy,
Page. My lord.

* Sorrow.

+ Touchstone.

Inconsiderate.

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