King Rich. Now, by my george, my garter, and

my crown,

Queen. Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third ufurp'd. K. Rich. I swear.

Queen. By nothing; for this is no oath.

The george, profan'd, hath lost his holy honour;
The garter, blemish'd, pawn'd his knightly virtue;
The crown, ufurp'd, disgrac'd his kingly glory:
If fomething thou wouldst swear to be believ'd,
Swear then by fomething that thou hast not wrong'd.

K. Rich. Now by the world,
Queen. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs.
K. Rich. My father's death,-
Queen. Thy life hath that dishonour'd.
K. Rich. Then, by myself,-
Queen. Thyself is felf-mif-us'd.
K. Rich. Why then, by heaven,-
Queen. Heaven's wrong is most of all.
If thou didst fear to break an oath with heaven,
The unity, the king my husband made,
Had not been broken, nor my brother flain.
If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by him,
The imperial metal, circling now thy head,
Had grac'd the tender temples of my child;

::

with heaven.) The quarto reads by him. The folio

-with him. STEEVENS.

read:

by him.] Thus all the old copies. The modern ones

with heaven, I have restored the old reading, because him (the oblique case of be) was anciently used for it, in a neutral sense. STEEVENS. Shakspear, I have no doubt, wrote by him in both places. This appears from the first words of this speech, which began originally :

God's wrong is most of all.

The players probably substituted Heaven instead of the sacred name, in this and many other places, after the passing of the Rat. 3 Jac. I. c. 21; and having changed-God's wrong-to Heaven's wrong, it became necessary to read, " an oath with Heaven," instead of " an oath by him." MALONE.

And both the princes had been breathing here,
Which now, two tender bed-fellows for dust,
Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms.
What can'ft thou swear by now?
King Rich. By time to come.

Queen. That thou haft wronged in the time oer

palt

For I myself have many tears to wash
Hereafter time, for time past, wrong'd by thee.
The children live, whose parents thou hast slaughter'd.
Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age:
The parents live, whose children thou hast butcher'd,
Old barren plants, to wail it with their age.
Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast
Misus'd ere us'd, by times ill-us'd o'er-paft.

K. Rich. As I intend to profper, and repent!
So thrive I in my dangerous attempt
Of hoftile arms! myself myself confound!
Heaven, and fortune, bar me happy hours!
Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy rest!
Be opposite all planets of good luck
To my proceeding, if, with pure heart's love,
Immaculate, devotion, holy thoughts,
I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter!
In her confifts my happiness, and thine;
Without her, follows to myself, and thee,
Herself, the land, and many a christian foul,
Death, defolation, ruin, and decay;
It cannot be avoided, but by this;
It will not be avoided, but by this.
Therefore, dear mother (I must call you so)
Be the attorney of my love to her :
Plead what I will be, not what I have been:
Not my deferts, but what I will deserve:

Which now, two tender, &c.] Mr. Roderick observes, that

the word two is without any force, and would read: Which now too tender, &C. STEEVENS.

Urge

Urge the necessity and state of times,
And be not peevish found in great designs.

Queen. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus ?
K. Rich. Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do good.
Queen. Shall I forget myself, to be myself?
K. Rich. Ay, if your self's remembrance wrong

yourself.

Queen. But thou didst kill my children. K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I. bury them: Where, in that nest of spicery, they shall breed Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.

Queen. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? K. Rich. And be a happy mother by the deed. Queen. I go. Write to me very shortly,. And you shall understand from me her mind. K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss, and fo [Kiffing her. Exit Queen.

farewel.

Relenting fool, and fhallow, changing-woman! How now? what news?

Enter Ratcliff, and Catesby.

Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western coaft Rideth a puissant navy; to the shore Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, Unarm'd, and unrefolv'd to beat them back: 'Tis thought, that Richmond is their admiral; And there they hull, expecting but the aid Of Buckingham, to welcome them afhore.

K. Rich. Some light-foot friend poft to the duke

of Norfolk;

Ratcliff, thyself-or Catesby; where is he?

Cates. Here, my good lord.
K. Rich. Catesby, fly to the duke.

غيب

in that neft of spicery, Alluding to the phenix.

STEEVENS.

Some light-foot friend post to the duke-] Richard's precipitation and confufion is in this scene very happily represented by inconfiftent orders, and sudden variations of opinion. JOHNSON.

Catef.

:

Cates. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. K. Rich. Ratcliff, come hither: Post to Salisbury; When thou com'st thither, -Dull unmindful villain, [To Catesby. Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke? Cates. First, mighty liege, tell me your highness pleasure,

What from your grace I shall deliver to him.

K. Rich. O, true, good Catesby; -Bid him levy

straight

The greatest strength and power he can make,
And meet me fuddenly at Salisbury.

Cates. I go.

[Exit.

Rat. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salif

bury?

K. Rich. Why, what wouldst thou do there, before I go?

Rat. Your highness told me, I should post before.

Enter Lord Stanley.

K. Rich. My mind is chang'd-Stanley, what

news with you?

Stanl. None good, my liege, to please you with the hearing;

Nor none so bad, but well may be reported.

K. Rich. Heyday, a riddle! neither good, nor bad! What need'st thou run so many miles about, When thou may'st tell thy tale the nearest way? Once more, what news?

Stanl. Richmond is on the feas.

K. Rich. There let him fink, and be the seas on

him!

White-liver'd runagate', what doth he there?

white-liver'd runagate.] This epithet, descriptive of cowardice, is not peculiar to Shakspeare. Stephen Gosson in his School of Abuse, 1579, speaking of the Helots, says:

" Leave those precepts to the white-livered Hylotes."

STEEVENS.

Stanl.

Stanl. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.
K. Rich. Well, as you guess ?
Stanl. Stirr'd up by Dorfet, Buckingham, and

Morton,

He makes for England, here to claim the crown.
K. Rich. Is the chair empty? is the sword unfway'd?
Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd?
• What heir of York is there alive, but we?
And who is England's king, but great York's heir?
Then, tell me, what makes he upon the seas ?

Stanl. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess ? K. Rich. Unless for that he comes to be your liege, You cannot guess wherefore the Welfhman comes. Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear.

Stanl. No, mighty liege, therefore mistrust me not. K. Rich. Where is thy power then, to beat him back?

Where be thy tenants, and thy followers ?
Are they not now upon the western shore,
Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships?

Stanl. No, my good lord, my friends are in the

north.

K. Rich. Cold friends to me: What do they in the north,

When they should serve their fovereign in the weft? Stanl. They have not been commanded, mighty

king:

Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave,
I'll muster up my friends; and meet your grace,
Where, and what time, your majesty shall please.

K. Rich. Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join

with Richmond:

But I'll not trust you, fir.

Stanl. Most mighty fovereign,

1

You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful; I never was, nor never will be false.

2 What beir of York?] i. e. What fon of Richard duke of

York? REMARKS.