K. Rich. How chance the prophet could not at that time Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him ? Buck. My lord, your promise for the earldom, K. Rich. Richmond! When last I was at Exeter, The mayor in courtesy show'd me the castle, And call'd it Rougemont: at which name I started, Because a bard of Ireland told me once, I should not live long after I saw Richmond. Bek. My Lord! K. Rich. Ay, what's o'clock ? 111 Buck. I am thus bold to put your grace in mind Of what you promised me. K. Rich. Buck. Why let it strike? Well, let it strike. K. Rich. Because that, like a Jack, thou keep'st the stroke Betwist thy begging and my meditation. I am not in the giving vein to-day. Back. Why, then resolve me whether you will or no. 120 K. Rich. Tut. tut, Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. [Exeunt all but Buckingham. Buck. Is it even so ? rewards he my true service Win such deep contempt ? made I him king for this? O, let me think on Hastings, and be gone SCENE III. The same. Enter TYRREL. [Exit. Tyr. The tyrannous and bloody deed is done, The most arch act of piteous massacre Melting with tenderness and kind compassion Yept like two children in their deaths' sad stories. Lo, thus' quoth Dighton, 'lay those tender babes: Within their innocent alabaster arms: A book of prayers on their pillow lay; But O! the devil '-there the villain stopp'd: Whilst Dighton thus told on: We smothered The most replenished sweet work of nature, That from the prime creation e'er she framed. Thus both are gone with conscience and remorse; 20 They could not speak; and so I left them both, To bring this tidings to the bloody king. Enter KING RICHARD. All hail, my sovereign liege! K. Rich. Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in thy news? Tyr. If to have done the thing you gave in charge Then fiery expedition be my wing, Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king! Come, muster men: my counsel is my shield; We must be brief when traitors brave the field. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Before the palace. Enter QUEEN MARGARET. Q. Mar. So, now prosperity begins to mellow And drop into the rotten mouth of death. comes here ? who Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and the DUCHESS OF YORK. Q. Eliz. Ah, my young princes! ah, my tender babes! 11 My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets! Q. Mar. Hover about her; say, that right for right Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night. Duch. So many miseries have crazed my voice, That my woe-wearied tongue is mute and dumb, Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead? Q. Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet. Edward for Edward pays a dying debt. 21 Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine: had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him; 40 I had a Harry, till a Richard kill'd him : Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill d him Thou hadst a Richard till a Richard killed him; Duch. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him; I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him. From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept moau ! others' ward; Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward; And the beholders of this tragic play, Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves. 70 And send them thither: but at hand, at hand, Ensues his piteous and unpitied end: Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray, To have him suddenly convey'd away. would come Q. Mar. I call'd thee then vain flourish o my fortune; I call'd thee then poor shadow, painted queen To be the aim of every dangerous shot; Where is thy husband now ? where be thy brothers ? Where are thy children? wherein dost thou joy? Who sues to thee and cries 'God save the queen' ? Where be the bending peers that flatter'd To torture thee the more, being what thou art. From which even here I slip my weary neck, And leave the burthen of it all on thee. Farewell, York's wife, and queen of sad mischance : [France. These English woes will make me smile in Q. Eliz. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay awhile, And teach me how to curse mine enemies! Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the nights, and fast the days; Compare dead happiness with living woe; Think that thy babes were fairer than they were, 120 And he that slew them fouler than he is: Bettering thy loss makes the bad causer And the dire death of my two sons and brothers? Tell me, thou villain slave, where are my children? Duch. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother Clarence ? And little Ned Plantagenet, his son ? K. Rich. A flourishi, trumpets! strike alarum, drums! 151 Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women K. Rich. Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself. Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience. K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your condition, Which cannot brook the accent of reproof. Do then; but I'll not hear. Duch. I will be mild and gentle in my speech. 160 K. Rich. And brief, good mother; for I am in haste. Duch. Art thou so hasty? I have stay'd for thee, God knows, in anguish, pain and agony. K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you? Duch. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well, Thou camest on earth to make the earth my hell. A grievous burthen was thy birth to me; Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous, 170 Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, bloody, treacherous, More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred : What comfortable hour canst thou name, K. Rich. Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, |