K. Rich.

Enter KING RICHARD.

All health, my sovereign lord!

Kind Tyrrel, am 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?

And buried, gentle Tyrrel?

Tyr. I did, my lord.

K. Rich.

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 supper,
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 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.

Cates.
K. Rich.

My lord,

Enter CATESBY.

Good news or bad, that thou com'st in so bluntly? Cates. Bad news, my lord: Ely is fled to Richmond; And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welshmen,

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 be 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 III. Before the Palace.

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 doom perpetual,
Hover about me with your airy wings,
And hear your mother's lamentation !

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-tied: go with me,
And in the breath of bitter words let's smother

My damnéd son, that thy two sweet sons smother'd.

I hear his drum :-be copious in exclaims.

K. Rich.

[Drum within.

Enter KING RICHARD and his Train.

Who intercepts me in my expedition?
Duch. O, she that might have intercepted thee,
By strangling thee in her accursed womb,

From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done!
Q. Eliz.
Hid'st thou that forehead with a golden crown,
Where should be branded, if that right were right,
The slaughter of the prince that ow'd that crown,
And the dire death of my poor sons and brothers ?
Tell me, thou villain-slave, where are my children?

Duch.
Q. Eliz.
Duch.

Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother Clarence?
Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Grey?
Where is kind Hastings?

K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets! strike alarum, drums!
Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women

Rail on the Lord's anointed: strike, I say!

Either be patient, and entreat me fair,

[Flourish.

Or with the clamorous report of war
Thus will I drown your exclamations.
Duch. Art thou my son?

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, That cannot brook the accent of reproof.

Duch. O, let me speak!

K. Rich.
Duch.

Do, then; but I'll not hear.
I will be mild and gentle in my words.

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 torment and in agony.

K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you? Duch. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well, Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell. A grievous burden was thy birth to me;

Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;

Thy school-days frightful, desperate, wild, and furious;
Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous;
Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, bloody, treacherous,
More mild, but yet more harmful-kind in hatred :
What comfortable hour canst thou name,

That ever grac'd me in thy company?

K. Rich. If I be so disgracious in your eye, Let me march on, and not offend you, madam.Strike up the drum.

Duch.

I prithee, hear me speak.
K. Rich. You speak too bitterly.
Duch.

For I shall never speak to thee again.

Hear me a word;

Duch. Either thou'lt die, by God's just ordinance,

Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror;

Or I with grief and éxtreme 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 armour that thou wear'st!
My prayers on the adverse party fight;

And there the little souls of Edward's children

VOL. II

X

Whisper the spirits of thine enemies,
And promise them success and victory.
Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end;

Shame serves thy life, and doth thy death attend.
Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less

curse

Abides in me; I say amen to her.

[Exit. spirit to

[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,
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 unscarr❜d of bleeding slaughter,
I will confess she was not Edward's daughter.

K. Rich.
Q. Eliz.

K. Rich.
Q. Eliz.

K. Rich.
Q. Eliz.

K. Rich.

Wrong not her birth, she is of royal blood.
To save her life, I'll say she is not so.
Her life is safest only in her birth.
And only in that safety died her brothers.
Lo, at their births good stars were opposite.
No, to their lives bad friends were contrary.
All unavoided is the doom of destiny.

Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes destiny:

My babes were destin’d to a fairer death,

If grace had bless'd 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 cozen'd

Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.

Whose hand soever lanc'd 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.

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 and yours by me were harm'd!

Q. Eliz.

What good is cover'd with the face of heaven,

To be discover'd, that can do me good?

K. Rich.

2. Eliz.

Th' advancement of your children, gentle lady. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads? No, to the dignity and height of honour, The high imperial type of this earth's glory.

K. Rich.

Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrows with report of it; Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour, 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 kindness
Last longer telling than thy kindness' date.

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

Q. Eliz. 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?

Q. Eliz.

K. Rich.

Q. Eliz.

K. Rich.

What, thou?

Even I: what think you of it, madam ? How canst thou woo her?

As one being best acquainted with her humour.

2. Eliz.

K. Rich.
Q. Eliz.

That would I learn of you,

Madam, with all my heart.

And wilt thou learn of me?

Send to her, by the man that slew her brothers,

A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engraven
"Edward and York;" then haply will she weep:
Therefore present to her as sometime Margaret
Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood-
A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain