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



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,

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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. Cute. 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,


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 bath 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 hit I lay what you would lay on me,
The right and fortune of his happy stars,-
Which God defend, that I should wring from

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


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 withal,

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 no,
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.


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 MARCARET PLANTAGENET, CLAREN '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.

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

Daughter, well met.

• Pity

Anne. God give your graces both A happy and a joyful time of day !

Anne. And I with all unwillingness will go.

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

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

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I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me. [Exit BRAKENBURY. Enter STANLEY.

Stan. Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour bence,

And I'll salute your grace of York as mother, And reverend looker-on of two fair queens.— Come, madamı, you must straight to Westmins

ter. [To the Duchess of GLOSTER. There to be crowned Richard's royal queen. Q. Eliz. Ah! cut my lace asunder, That my pent heart may have some scope to beat,

Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news. Anne. Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing

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Anointed let me be with deadly venom;
And die, ere men can say-God save the queen!
Q. Eliz. Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy

To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm. Anne. No! why ?-When be, that is my husband now,

Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse; When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his bands,

Which issu'd from my other angel husbaud, And that dead saint which then I weeping follow'd ;

Oh! when, I say, I look'd on Richard's face,
This was my wish,-Be thou, quoth 1, accurs'd,
For making me, so young, so old a widow!
And, when thou wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy

And be thy wife, (if any be so mad)
More miserable by the life of thee,
Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's


Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,
Even in so short a space, my woman's heart
Grossly grew captive to his honey words,
And prov'd the subject of mine own soul's


Which ever since hath held mine eyes from rest ;

For never yet one hour in his bed
Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep,

But with his timorous dreams was still awak'd.
Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick;
And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.


Q. Eliz. Poor heart, adieu; I pity thy complaining.

Anne. No more than with my soul I mourn for your's.

Dor. Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory!

Anne. Adieu, poor soul, that tak'st thy leave of it!

Duch. Go thon to Richmond, and good for.
tune guide thee !- [TO DORSET.
thou to Richard, and good angels tend
thee !-

Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess
I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with


Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen, And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen. I

Q. Eliz. Stay yet; look back, with me, unta the Tower.

Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes,
Whom envy hath immur'd within your walls f
Rough cradle for such little pretty ones!
Rude ragged nurse! old sullen play-fellow
For tender princes, use my babies well!
So foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell.


SCENE II.-A Room of State in the

Flourish of Trumpets. RICHARD as King upon his Throne; BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY a PAGE, and others.

K. Rich. Stand all apart.-Cousin of Buck. ingham,-

Buck. My gracious sovereign.

K. Rich. Give me thy hand. Thas high, by

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But shall we wear these glories for a day?
Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?
Buck. Still live they, and for ever let them


K Rich. Ah! Buckingham, now do I play the touch,

To try if thou be current gold indeed :


To stop all hopes, whose growth may damage
[Exit CATESB2.
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.


Buck. Say on, my loving lord.

K. Rich. Why, Buckingham, I say, I would be king.

Buck. Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned liege.

K. Rich. Ha! am I king? 'Tis so: but Edward lives.

Buck. True, noble prince.

K. Rich. O bitter consequence,

That Edward still should live,-true, noble

Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull :-
Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead:
And I would have it suddenly perform'd.
What say'st thou now! speak suddenly,



Buck. Your grace may do your pleasure.
K. Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kind-
ness freezes :

Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?
some breath, some little

Buck. Give me

panse, dear lord,

Before I positively speak in this;
I will resolve your grace immediately.


Re-enter PAGE, with TYRREL.

Is thy name Tyrrel?

Tyr. James Tyrrel, and your most obedient

K. Rich. Art thou, indeed ?

Tyr. Prove me, my gracious lord.

K. Rich. Dar'st thou resolve to kill a friend
of mine?

Tyr. Please you; but I had rather kill two

K. Rich. Why, then thou hast it; two deep

Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleep's dis-
Are they that I would have thee deal upon :
Tyrrel, I mean those bastards in the Tower.
Tyr. Let me have open means to come to

And soon I'll rid you from the fear of them.
K. Rich. Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark,
come hither, Tyrrel;

Go, by this token :-Rise, and lend thine ear:
There is no more but so:-Say, it is done,

Cate. The king is angry; see, he gnaws his And I will love thee, and prefer thee for it.



Tyr. I will despatch it straight.



Buck. My lord, I have consider'd in my

K. Rich. I will converse with iron-witted fools, [Descends from his Throne. And unrespective + boys: noue are for me, That look into me with considerate eyes;High-reaching Buckingham grows circum-The spect.


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Gold were as good as twenty orators,
And will, no doubt, tempt him to any thing.
K. Rich. What is his name?

Page. His name, my lord, is Tyrrel.
K. Rich. I partly know the man; Go, call
him hither, boy.-
[Exit PAGE.

The deep-revolving witty ý Buckingham
No more shall be the neighbour to my coun-

Hath he so long held out with me untir'd,

late demand that you did sound me in.
K. Rich. Well, let that rest. Dorset is filed
to Richmond.

Buck. I hear the news, my lord.

K. Rich. Stanley, he is your wife's son :

Well, look to it.

Buck. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by

For which your honour and


your faith is
The earldom of Hereford, and the moveables,
Which you have promised I shall possess.
K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife; if she

Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.
Buck. What says your highness to my just
request ?

K. Rich. I do remember me,-Henry the

Did prophesy that Richmond should be king,

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

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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 I, a jolly thriving wooer.

Buck. Why, then resolve me whe'r you will

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Tyr. The tyrannous and bloody act is done; The most arch deed of piteous massacre, That ever yet this land was guilty of. Dighton and Forrest, whom I did suborn To do this piece of ruthless butchery, Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs, Melting with tenderness and mild compassion, Wept like two children, in their death's sad story.

O thus, quoth Dighton, lay the gentle babes,-Thus, thus, quoth Forrest, girdling one another

Within their alabaster innocent arms:
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,
Which in their summer beauty, kiss'd each

A book of prayers on their pillow lay; Which once, quoth Forrest, almost chang'd my mind;

But oh! 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

Hence both are gone; with conscience and


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

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Cate. My lord,—

K. Rich. Good news or bad, that thou com'st in so bluntly!

Cate. Bad news, my lord; Morton is fled to Richmond;

And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welshmen,

Is in the field, and still his power increaseth. H. Rich. Ely with Richmond troubles me more near,

Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength. Come,-I have learn'd, that fearful menting


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 meu: My counsel is my shield:
We must be brief, when traitors brave the field.
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 induction am I witness to,
And will to France; hoping the consequence
Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.
Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret! who comes

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 Bly in the air,
And be not fix'd in doom 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

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Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here!

Ah, who has 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.' 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

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 bell-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

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

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And the beholders of this tragic play,

The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan,

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:
hell burus, fiends roar, saints

Earth gapes,

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 would 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 i
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 husbaud now? Where be thy


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Who sues, and kneels, and says-God save the queen?

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


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;
but thought of what thou
Having no more


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'ʼn

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


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

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. Duch. Why should calamity be full of


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


Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart. Duch. If so, then be not tongue-ty'd: go with me,

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


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

K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedition?

Duch. Oh 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


The slaughter of the prince that ow'd that

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

And little Ned Plantagenet, his son ? Q. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vangban, Grey?

• Owned

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