網頁圖片
PDF

A book of prayers on their pillow lay :
Which once, quoth Forrest, almost chang'd my mind;
But, O, the devil-there the villain stopp'd;
When Dighton thus told on, we smothered
The most replenished sweet work of nature,
That, from the prime creation, e'er she fram'd.
· Hence both are gone with conscience and remorse,

They could not speak; and so I left them both,
To bear this tidings to the bloody king.

Enter King Richard.
And here he comes :--All health, my sovereign lord !

K, Rich. Kind Tyrrel ! an I happy in thy news?

Tyr. If to have done the thing you gave in charge
Beget your happiness, be happy then,
For it is done.

K. Rich. But didst thou see them dead ? "
Tyr. I did, my lord.
K. Rich.

And buried, gentle Tyrrel ?
Tyr. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried

them; But where, to say the truth, I do not know. K. Rich. Come to me, Tyrrel, soon, at after sup

per,
When thou shalt tell the process of their death.
Meantime, but think how I may do thee good,
And be inheritor of thy desire.
Farewell, till then.

Tyr. I humbly take my leave... [Exit.
K. Rich. The son of Clarence have I penn'd up

close;
His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage;
The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom,
And Anne my wife hath bid the world good night.
Now, for I know the Bretagne* Richmond aims
At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter,
And, by that knot, looks proudly on the crown,
To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer.“

* The country in which Richmond had taken refage. VOL. VII.

Enter Catesby. Cate. My lord, K. Rich. Good news or bad, that thou com’st in

so bluntly?... Cate. Bad news, my lord: Morton* is fed 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 rash-levied strength. Come, I have learn'd, that fearful commenting Is leaden servitor to dull delay; Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary: Then fiery expedition by my wing, Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king ! Go, muster men: My counsel is my shield; We must be brief, when traitors brave the field.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.
The same Before the palace.

Enter Queen Margaret.
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 inductiont am I witness to,
And will to France; hoping, the consequence
Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.
Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret! who comes

here?, !
• Bishop of Ely. + Introduction.

[graphic][subsumed][subsumed][ocr errors][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][ocr errors][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Enter Queen Elizabeth and the Duchess of York.
Q. Eliz. Ah, my poor princes ! ah, my tender

babes!
My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets !
If yet your gentle souls fly in the air,
And be not fix'd in doon perpetual,
Hover about me with your airy wings,
And hear your mother's lamentation !

Q. Mar. Hover about her ; 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 woe-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 son. Duch. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal-living

ghost, Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life ... usurp’d, Brief abstract and record of tedious days, Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth,

(Sitting down. Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood ! Q. Eliz. Ah, that thou would'st as soon afford a

grave, As thou canst yield a melancholy seat; Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here! 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*, And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.

. * Seniority.

« 上一頁繼續 »