Duch.

Hear me a word;

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;

Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish,
And never look upon thy face again.

Therefore take with thee my most heavy curse;
Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more,
Than all the complete armor that thou wear'st!
My prayers on the adverse party fight;
And there the little souls of Edward's children
Whisper the spirits of thine enemies,
And promise them success and victory.
Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end;

Shame serves1 thy life, and doth thy death attend.

[Exit. 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 called-Elizabeth, Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.

Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? O, let her live, And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty; Slander myself, as false to Edward's bed; Throw over her the veil of infamy;

So she may live unscarred of bleeding slaughter,

I will confess she was not Edward's daughter.

K. Rich. Wrong not her birth; she is of royal blood.
Q. Eliz. To save her life, I'll say she is not so.
K. Rich. Her life is safest only in her birth.

1 i. e. accompanies.

Q. Eliz. And only in that safety died her brothers. 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. Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes destiny. My babes were destined to a fairer death,

If grace had blest thee with a fairer life.

K. Rich. You speak as if that I had slain my cousins. Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle

cozened

Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.
Whose hands soever lanced their tender hearts,
Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction.

No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt,
Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart,
To revel in the entrails of my lambs.

2

But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame,
My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys,
Till that my nails were anchored in thine eyes;
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 enterprise,
And dangerous success of bloody wars,

As I intend more good to you and yours,

Than ever you or yours by me were harmed!

Q. Eliz. What good is covered with the face of heaven,

To be discovered, 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.

Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrows with report of it.

1 Unavoidable.

2 i. e. constant use.

Tell me, what state, what dignity, what honor,
Canst thou demise to any child of mine?

K. Rich. Even all I have; ay, and myself and all, Will I withal endow a child of thine;

So in the Lethe of thy angry soul

Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs,
Which thou supposest I have done to thee.

Q. Eliz. Be brief, lest that the process of thy kind

ness

Last longer telling than thy kindness' date.

K. Rich. Then know, that from my soul, I love thy daughter.

Q. Eliz. My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul.

K. Rich. What do you think?

Q. Eliz. That thou dost love my daughter, from thy

soul:

So, from thy soul's love, didst thou love her brothers; And from my heart's love, I do thank thee for it.

K. Rich. Be not so hasty to confound my meaning. I mean, that with my soul I love thy daughter, And do intend to make her queen of England.

Q. Eliz. Well then, who dost thou mean shall be her king?

K. Rich. Even he that makes her queen. Who else should be?

Madam, with all my heart.

As one being best acquainted with her humor.
Q. Eliz. And wilt thou learn of me?

K. Rich.

Q. Eliz. Send to her, by the man that slew her

brothers,

A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave,

Edward, and York; then, haply, will she weep.

1 The second folio reads devise.

Therefore present to her-as sometime Margaret
Did to thy father, steeped in Rutland's blood-
A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain
The purple sap from her sweet brothers' body,
And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal.
If this inducement move her not to love,
Send her a letter of thy noble deeds;

Tell her, thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence,
Her uncle Rivers; ay, and, for her sake,

Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne.
K. Rich. You mock me, madam; this is not the way
To win your daughter.

Q. Eliz.

There is no other way;

Unless thou couldst put on some other shape,

And not be Richard that hath done all this.

K. Rich. Say that I did all this for love of her? Q. Eliz. Nay, then, indeed, she cannot choose but hate thee,1

Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.

K. Rich. Look, what is done cannot be now amended;

Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,
Which after-hours give leisure to repent.
If I did take the kingdom from your sons,
To make amends, I'll give it to your daughter.
If I have killed the issue of your womb,
To quicken your increase, I will beget
Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter.
A grandam's name is little less in love,
Than is the doting title of a mother;
They are as children, but one step below,
Even of your mettle, of your very blood;
Of all one pain,-save for a night of groans
Endured of her, for whom you bid like sorrow.

1 Tyrwhitt suggested that the sense seemed to require we should read "but love thee," ironically. Mason proposed "but have thee," which Steevens admitted into the text. "It is by no means evident that this is spoken ironically (says Mr. Boswell), and if not, the old reading affords a perfectly clear meaning. A virtuous woman would hate the man who thought to purchase her love by the commission of crimes."

2 Of is used for by; bid is the past tense from bide.

Your children were vexation to your youth,
But mine shall be a comfort to your age.
The loss you have, is but-a son being king,
And, by that loss, your daughter is made queen.
I cannot make you what amends I would,
Therefore accept such kindness as I can.
Dorset, your son, that with a fearful soul,
Leads discontented steps in foreign soil,
This fair alliance quickly shall call home
To high promotions and great dignity.
The king, that calls your beauteous daughter,-wife,
Familiarly shall call thy Dorset-brother;
Again shall you be mother to a king,

And all the ruins of distressful times
Repaired with double riches of content.
What! we have many goodly days to see;
The liquid drops of tears that you have shed,
Shall come again, transformed 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 bashful years with your experience;
Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale;
Put in her tender heart the aspiring flame
Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the princess
With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys;
And when this arm of mine hath chastised
The petty rebel, dull-brained Buckingham,
Bound with triumphant garlands will I come,
And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed;
To whom I will retail1 my conquest won,
And she shall be sole victress, Cæsar's Cæsar.

Q. Eliz. What were I best to say? Her father's brother

Would be her lord? Or shall I say, her uncle?
Or, he that slew her brothers, and her uncles?
Under what title shall I woo for thee,

That God, the law, my honor, and her love,
Can make seem pleasing to her tender years ?

1 i. e. recount.