Her royal stock graft with ignoble plants,
And almost shoulder'd in the swallowing gulf
Of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion.
Which to recure, we heartily solicit
Your gracious self to take on you the charge
And kingly government of this your land:
Not as protector, steward, substitute,
Or lowly factor for another's gain:
But as successively from blood to blood,

Your right of birth, your empery, ‡ your own.
For this, consorted with the citizens,
Your very worshipful and loving friends,
And by their vehement_instigation,

In this just suit come I to move your grace.
Glo. I cannot tell, if to depart in silence,
Or bitterly to speak in your reproof,
Best fitteth my degree, or your condition :
If not to answer,-you might haply think,
Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded
To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty,
Which fondly you would here impose on me;
If to reprove you for this suit of your's,
So season'd with your faithful love to me,
Then, on the other side, I check'd my friends.
Therefore, to speak, and to avoid

first;

the

And, then in speaking, not to incur the last,-
Definitively thus I answer you.

Your love deserves my thanks; but my desert
Unmeritable, shuns your high request.
First, if all obstacles were cut away,

And that my path were even to the crown,
As the ripe revenue and due of birth;
Yet so much is my poverty of spirit,
So mighty and so many my defects,

Buck. Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer's
Jove.

Cate. Oh make them joyful, grant their law.
ful suit.

Glo. Alas, why would you heap those carca
ou me ?

I am unfit for state and majesty :-
I do beseech you, take it not amiss;

I cannot, nor I will not, yield to you.

Buck. If you refuse it,-as in love and zeal,

Loath to depose the child, your brother's son;
As well we know your tenderness of heart,
And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,
Which we have noted in you to your kindred,
And equally, indeed, to all estates,-
Yet know, whe'r you accept our suit or no,
Your brother's son shall never reign our king;
But we will plant some other in your throne,
To the disgrace and downfal of your house.
And, in this resolution, here we leave you;
Come, citizens, we will entreat no more.

[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Citizens. Cate. Call them again, sweet prince, accept their suit;

If you deny them, all the land will rue it.

Glo. Will you enforce me to a world of
cares?

Well, call them again; I am not made of stone,
But penetrable to your kind entreaties,

[Erit CATESBY.
Albeit against my conscience and my soul.-
Re-enter BUCKINGHAM and the rest.
Cousin of Buckingham, and sage, grave men,

That I would rather hide me from my great- Since you will buckle fortune on my back,

ness,

Being a bark to brook no mighty sea,-
Than in my greatness covet to be hid,
And in the vapour of my glory smother'd,
But, God be thank'd, there is no need of me ;
(And much I need to help you, if need were ;)
The royal tree hath left us royal fruit,
Which, mellow'd by the stealing hours of time,
Will well become the seat of majesty,
And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign.
On him I lay what you would lay on me,
The right and fortune of his happy stars,-
Which God defend, that I should wring from
bim!

Buck. My lord, this argues conscience in

your grace;

But the respects thereof are nice and trivial,
All circumstances well considered.
You say, that Edward is your brother's son;
So say we too, but not by Edward's wife :
For first he was contract to lady Lucy,
Your mother lives a witness to his vow:
And afterwards by substitute betroth'd
To Bona, sister to the king of France.
These both put by, a poor petitioner,
A care-craz'd mother to a many sons,
A beauty-waning and distressed widow,
Even in the afternoon of her best days,
Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye,
Seduc'd the pitch and height of all his thoughts
To base declension and loath'd bigamy:
By her, in his unlawful bed, he got
This Edward, whom our manners call-the

prince.

More bitterly could I expostulate,
Save that, for reverence to some alive,

I give a sparing limit to my tongue.

Then, good my lord, take to your royal self

This proffer'd benefit of dignity:

If not to bless us and the land witbal,

Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry

From the corruption of abusing time,
Unto a lineal true-derived course.

To bear her burden, whe'r I will or uo,
I must have patience to endure the load:
But if black scandal, or foul-fac'd reproach,
Attend the sequel of your imposition,
Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me
From all the impure blots and stains thereof;
For God he knows, and you may partly see,
How far I am from the desire of this.

May. God bless your grace! we see it, and

will say it.

Glo. In saying so, you shall but say the truth.

Buck. Then I salute you with this royal
title,-

Long live king Richard, England's worthy king!
All. Amen!

Buck. To-morrow may it please you to be
crown'd?

Glo. Even when you please, since you will have it so.

Buck. To-morrow then we will attend your
grace;

And so, most joyfully we take our leave.
Glo. Come, let us to our holy work again :-
(To the Bishops.
Farewell, good cousin ;-farewell, gentle friends.
[Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE 1.-Before the Tower.

Enter on one side, Queen ELIZABETH, Duchess of YORK, and Marquis of DORSET; on the other, ANNE, Duchess of GLOSTER, leading Lady MARGARET PLANTAGENET, CLARENCK'S young Daughter.

Duch. Who meets us here ?-my niece Plantagenet

Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloster ?

May. Do, good my lord; your citizens en- Now, for my life, she's wand'ring to the Tower,

treat you.

On pure heart's love, to greet the tender prince.

Daughter, well met.

• Pity

Q. Eliz. As much to you, good sister! Whi-Oh! would to God, that the inclusive verge ther away? Of golden metal, that must round my brow,

Anne. No further than the Tower; and, as I Were red-hot steel, to sear + me to the bram!

I must be married to my brother's daughter,
Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass :-
Murder her brothers, and then marry her!
Uncertain way of gain! But I am in
So far in blood, that sin will pluck on sin.

Young Edward lives;-Think now what I would Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.

circum-The

And stops he now for breath 3-well, be it When Richmond was a little peevish †‍ boy.

And Anne my wife hath bid the world good night.

Now, for I know the Bretagne Richmond aims

thou At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter, And, by that knot, looks proudly on the crown, To her go 1, a jolly thriving wooer.

570

Then would I hide my bones, not rest them | Who sues, and kneels, and says-God save the here!

Ah, who has auy 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.'
If sorrow can admit society,

[Sitting down with them.
Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine :-
I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him,
I had a husband, till a Richard kill'd him:
Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd
him;

Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard kill'd him.
Duch. I had a Richard too, and thou didst
kill him 3

I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him.
Q. Mar. Thou had'st a Clarence too, and
Richard kill'd him.

From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept
A hell-hound, that doth hunt us all to death:
That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes,
To worry lambs, and lap their gentle blood;
That foul defacer of God's handy-work;
'That excellent grand tyrant of the earth,
That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls,
Thy womb let loose, to chase us to our
graves.-

O upright, just, and true-disposing God,
How do I thank thee, that this carnal cur
Preys on the issue of his mother's body,
And makes her pew-fellow with others' moan!
Duch. O Harry's wife, triumph not in my

woes;

God witness with me, I have wept for thine,
Q. Mar Bear with me, I am hungry for re-

venge,

And now I cloy me with beholding it.
Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Ed-
ward;

Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward;
Young York he is but boot, because both
they

Match not the high perfection of my loss.

Thy Clarence he is dead, that stabb'd my Ed

ward;

And the beholders of this tragic play,

The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan,

Grey,

Untimely, smother'd in their dusky graves.
Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer;
Only reserv'd their factor, to buy souls,
And send them thither: But at band, at hand,
Ensues his piteous and unpitied end:
Earth gapes, hell burus, fiends roar, saints

pray,

To have him suddenly convey'd from hence :-
Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray,
That I may live to say, The dog is dead!
Q. Eliz. Oh thou didst prophesy, the time
world come,
That I should wish for thee to help me curse
That bottled spider, that foul buuch-back'd

toad.

Q. Mar. I call'd thee then, vain flourish of
my fortune;

I call'd thee then, poor shadow, painted queen;
The presentation of but what i was,
The flattering index of a direful pageant,
One heav'd a high, to be hurl'd down below:
A mother only mock'd with two fair babes ;
A dream of what thou wast; a garish || flag,
To be the aim of every dangerous shot:
A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble;
A queen in jest, only to fill the scene.
Where is thy husband now? Where be thy

brothers ?

Where be thy two sons? Wherein dost thou

juy?

queen? Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee f Where be the thronging troops that follow'd

thee?

Decline all this, and see what now thou art.
For happy wife, a most distressed widow;
For joyful mother, one that wails the name;
For one being sued to, one that humbly sues;
For queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care:
For one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me ;
For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one;
For one commanding all, obey'd of none.
Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about,
And left thee but a very prey to time;
Having no more but thought of what thou
wert,

To torture thee the more, being what thou art.
Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not
Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow!

Now thy proud neck bears half my burden'a
yoke;

From which even here I slip my wearied bead,
And leave the burden of it all on thee.
Farewell, York's wife,-and queen of sad miɛ-

chance,

These English woes shall make me smile in
France.

Q. Eliz. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay a
while,

And teach me how to curse mine enemies.
Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast
the day;

Compare dead happiness with living woe;
Think that thy babes were fairer than they
were,

And he, that slew them, fouler than he is:
Bettering thy loss makes the bad-causer worse;
Revolving this will teach thee how to curse.

Q. Eliz. My words are dull, O quicken them
with thine!

Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce like mine.

[Exit Q. MARGARET. be full of Duch. Why should calamity

words?

Q. Eliz. Windy attornies 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-ty'd: go with me,

sous

And in the breath of bitter words let's smother
My damned son, that thy two sweet
[Drum witkin.

smother'd.

I hear his drum,-be copious in exclaims. Enter King RICHARD, and his Train, marching.

K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedition ?

Duch. Ob she that might have intercepted
thee,

By strangling thee in her accursed womb,
From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou bast
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 sous and bro thers?

Tell me thou villain-slave, where are my chil dren ?

Duch. Thou toad, thou toad, where is 'hy brother Clarence?

And little Ned Plantagenet, his son ?

Q. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaugban, Grey?

• Owned