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Go, by this token. Rise, and lend thine ear:

There is no more but so :-say, it is done,
And I will love thee, and prefer thee for it.
Tyr. I will despatch it straight.

Re-enter BUCKINGHAM.

[whispers.

[Exit.

Buck. My lord, I have consider'd in my mind The late demand that you did sound me in.

K. Rich. Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled 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 promise,

For which your honor and your faith is pawn'd;
The earldom of Hereford, and the moveables,
Which you have promised I shall possess.

K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife: if she

convey

Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.

Buck. What says your highness to my just request?

K. Rich. I do remember me,-Henry the sixth Did prophesy, that Richmond should be king, When Richmond was a little peevish1 boy. A king!-perhaps

1 Foolish.

Buck. My lord,

K. Rich. How chance, the prophet could not at that time

Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him?
Buck. My lord, your promise for the earldom,
K. Rich. Richmond! When last I was at Exeter,
The mayor in courtesy show'd me the castle,
And call'd it Rougemont; at which name I started;
Because a bard of Ireland told me once,

I should not live long after I saw Richmond.

Buck. My lord,

K. Rich. Ay, what 's o'clock?

Buck. I am thus bold to put your grace in mind

Of what you promised me.

K. Rich. Well, but what 's o'clock?

Buck. Upon the stroke of ten.

K. Rich. Well, let it strike.

Buck.

Why let it strike?

K. Rich. Because that, like a Jack,1 thou keep'st

the stroke

Betwixt thy begging and my meditation.

I am not in the giving vein to-day.

Buck. Why, then resolve me whether you will

or no.

K. Rich. Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. [Exeunt King Richard and train. Buck. And is it thus? repays he my deep service

1 An automaton figure appended to clocks, which strikes the hour.

With such contempt? made I him king for this? O, let me think on Hastings, and be gone

To Brecknock,1 while my fearful head is on. [Exit.

SCENE III.

The same.

Enter TYRRel.

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.

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Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,

Which, in their summer beauty, kiss'd each other. A book of prayers on their pillow lay;

Which once,' quoth Forrest, almost changed my

mind;

But, O, the devil!' there the villain stopp'd;
When Dighton thus told on;- We smothered
The most replenished sweet work of Nature,

1 Where his castle was situated.

That, from the prime creation, e'er she framed.' Hence both are gone with conscience and remorse, They could not speak; and so I left them both, To bear this tidings to the bloody king.

Enter KING RICHARD.

And here he comes. All health, my sovereign lord! K. Rich. 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?
Tyr. I did, my lord.

K. Rich.

And buried, gentle Tyrrel?

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 son of Clarence have I penn'd up

close;

His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage; The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom, And Anne my wife hath bid the world good night.

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