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. Tut, tut,]

Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein.

121

Exeunt all but Buckingham.

Buck. And is it thus? Repays he my deep service
With such contempt? Made I him king for this?
O, let me think on Hastings, and be gone
To Brecknock, while my fearful head is on!

SCENE III

[The same.]

Enter Tyrrel.

125

Exit.

5

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, who I did suborn
To do this piece of ruthless butchery,
Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs,
Melted 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,

I

11

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

Which once," quoth Forrest, "almost chang'd my

mind;

15

But O! 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 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 25
Beget your happiness, be happy then,

For it is done.

K. Rich.

Tyr. I did, my lord.

But didst thou see them dead?

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,

And buried, gentle Tyrrel?

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.

30

34

Tyr.
K. Rich. The son of Clarence have I pent 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 this world good-night.
Now, for I know the Breton 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.

I humbly take my leave. Exit.

Rat. My lord!

Enter Ratcliff.

40

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

bluntly?

45

Rat. Bad news, my lord. Morton is fled to Richmond;
And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welsh-

men,

Is in the field, and still his power increaseth.
K. Rich. Ely with Richmond troubles me more near 49

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.

55

Exeunt.

SCENE IV

[Before the palace.]

Enter old 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.

5

Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret; who comes here?

[Retires.]

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 !

10

Q. Mar. Hover about her; say, that right for right 15
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 mute.
Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?

Q. Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet.

20

Edward for Edward pays a dying debt. Q. Eliz. Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs,

And throw them in the entrails of the wolf?

When didst thou sleep when such a deed was

done?

Q. Mar. When holy Harry died, and my sweet son. 25 Duch. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal living ghost, Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life

usurp❜d,

Brief abstract and record of tedious days,

Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth,

[Sitting down.]

Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood! 30 Q. Eliz. Ah, that thou wouldst as soon afford a grave As thou canst yield a melancholy seat!

Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here.
Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but we ?

[Sitting down by her.]

Q. Mar. [Coming forward.] If ancient sorrow be most

reverend,

Give mine the benefit of seniory,

And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.

If sorrow can admit society,

35

[Sitting down with them.] [Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine.]

I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him; 40
I had a Harry, till a Richard kill'd him :