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. Anne. And I with all unwillingness will go.O, would to God, that the inclusive verge Of golden metal, that must round my brow, Were red-hot steel, to sear3 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; Q. Eliz. Kind sister, thanks; we'll enter all When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his Buck. My gracious sovereign. together: 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, Enter Stanley. 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. Anne. Despiteful tidings! Ounpleasing 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. Stan. Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam: Take all the swift advantage of the hours; (1) A serpent supposed to originate from a cock's egg. hands, Which issu'd from my other angel husband, And that dead saint which then I weeping follow'd; Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death! Even in so short a space, my woman's heart And prov'd the subject of mine own soul's curse: Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep, But with his timorous dreams was still awak'd. 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 woful welcomer of glory! Anne. Adieu, poor soul, that tak'st thy leave of it! Duch. Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee![To Dorset. Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee![To Anne. Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee! [To Q. Elizabeth. I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me! 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, So foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell. [Exe. SCENE II-A room of state in the palace. Flourish of trumpets. Richard, as king upon his throne; Buckingham, Catesby, a Page, and others. K. Rich. Stand all apart. -Cousin of Buckingham, (2) The crown. (3) Burn. (4) Sorrow. Look, how thou dream'st! I say again, give out, K. Rich. Give me thy hand. Thus high, by thy That Anne my queen is sick, and like to die: 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, About it; for it stands me much upon, 5 I must be married to my brother's daughter, speak. Re-enter Page, with Tyrrel. Buck. Say on, my loving lord. 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, K. Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes: Say, have I thy consent, that they shall die? Before I positively speak in this: And unrespective2 boys: none are for me, Page. My lord. K. Rich. Know'st thou not any, whom corrupt ing gold Would tempt unto a close exploit of death? Page. I know a discontented gentleman, Whose humble means match not his haughty mind: Gold were as good as twenty orators, And will, no doubt, tempt him to any thing. K. Rich. What is his name? His name, my lord, is-Tyrrel. The deep-revolving, witty4 Buckingham Enter Stanley. Tyr. James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject. Prove me, my gracious lord. K. Rich. Dar'st thou resolve to kill a friend of mine? Tyr. Please you; but I had rather kill two ene mies. K. Rich. Why, then thou hast it; two deep ene- Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleep's disturbers, Go, by this token:-Rise, and lend thine ear: Re-enter Buckingham. [Exit. Buck. My lord, I have consider'd in my mind The late demand that you did sound me in. K. Rich. Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to Richmond. Buck. I hear the news, my lord. Buck. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd; K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife; if she convey K. Rich. How chance, the prophet could not at that time, How now, lord Stanley? what's the news? K. Rich. Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. [Exeunt King Richard, and train. Buck. And is it thus? repays he my deep service With such contempt? made I him king for this? O, let me think on Hastings; and be gone To Brecknock, 2 while my fearful head is on: [Exit. SCENE III.-The same. Enter Tyrrel. Within their alabaster innocent arms: mind; But, O, the devil-there the villain stopp'd; Cate. My lord, so bluntly? K. Rich. Good news or bad, that thou com'st in Cate. Bad news, my lord: Mortons is filed to Richmond; men, And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welsh- near, Than Buckingham, and his rash-levied strength. SCENE IV. The same. Before the Palace. Q. Mar. So, now prosperity begins to mellow, And drop into the rotten mouth of death. Here in these confines slily have I lurk'd, To watch the waning of mine enemies. A dire induction ani I witness to, And will to France; hoping, the consequence Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical. Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret! who comes here? Enter Queen Elizabeth and the Duchess of York. Q. Eliz. Ah, my poor princes! ah, my tender babes! My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets! Q. Mar. Hover abouther; say, that right for right Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night. Duch. So many miseries have craz'd my voice, That my wo-wearied tongue is still and mute,Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead? Q. Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet, Edward for Edward pays a dying debt. Q. Eliz. Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs, And throw them in the entrails of the wolf? When didst thou sleep, when such a deed was done? Q. Mar. When holy Harry died, and my sweet 1 ! Ah, who hath any cause to mourn, but we? [Sitting down by her. Q. Mar. If ancient sorrow be most reverent, Give mine the benefit of seniory,1 And let my griefs frown on the upper hand. If sorrow can admit society, [Sitting down with them. Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine :- Q. Mar. Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard kill'd him. From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept Q. Mar. Bear with me, I am hungry for revenge, Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray, Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophesy, the time would come, That I should wish for thee to help me curse I call'd thee then, poor shadow, painted queen; queen? Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee? (1) Seniority. (2) Companion. For joyful mother, one that wails the name; chance, These English woes shall make me smile in France. Q. Eliz. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay a while, And teach me how to curse mine enemies. Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the day; Compare dead happiness with living wo; Q. Eliz. My words are dull, O, quicken them with thine! Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce like mine. Exit Q. Mar. Duch. Why should calamity be full of words? Q. Eliz. Windy attorneys to their client woes, Airy succeeders of intestate joys, Poor breathing orators of miseries! Let them have scope: though what they do impart Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart. Duch. If so, then be not tongue-ty'd: go with K. Rich. Ay, I thank God, my father, and your- Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience. That cannot brook the accent of reproof. Duch. O, let me speak. Do, then; but I'll not hear. Duch. Art thou so hasty? I have staid for thee, K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you? Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and ven turous; Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, That ever grac'd me in thy company? K. Rich. Lo, at their births good stars were opposite. Q. Eliz. No, to their lives bad friends were contrary. K. Rich. All unavoided is the doom of destiny. My babes were destin'd to a fairer death, K. Rich. You speak, as if that I had slain my Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart, But that stills use of grief makes wild grief tame, K. Rich. 'Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes; call'd your grace To breakfast once, forth of my company. If I be so disgracious in your sight, For I shall never speak to thee again. K. Rich. So. Duch. Either thou wilt die, by God's just ordi nance, Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror; And I, in such a desperate bay of death, Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft, Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom. K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprize, And dangerous success of bloody wars, As I intend more good to you and yours, Q. Eliz. What good is cover'd with the face of heaven, To be discover'd, that can do me good? K. Rich. The advancement of your children, gentle lady. Q. Eliz. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads? K. Rich. No, to the dignity and height of fortune, The high imperial type of this earth's glory.6 Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrows with report of it; K. Rich. Even all I have; ay, and myself and all, [Exit. Q. Eliz. Be brief, lest that the process of thy Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse Abides in me; I say amen to her. [Going. K. Rich. Stay, madam, I must speak a word with you. Q. Eliz. I have no more sons of the royal blood, For thee to murder: for my daughters, Richard,They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens; And therefore level not to hit their lives. K. Rich. You have a daughter call'd-Elizabeth, Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? O, let her live, K. Rich. Wrong not her birth, she is of royal kindness K. Rich. What do you think? Q. Eliz. That thou dost love my daughter, from So, from thy soul's love, didst thou love her brothers; I mean, that with my soul I love thy daughter, Q. Eliz. Well then, who dost thou mean shall be K. Rich. Even he, that makes her queen: Who else should be? Q. Eliz. What, thou? (5) Constant. (6) A crown. (7) Bequeath. |