Imatges de pàgina
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My Tongue fhould to thy Ears not name my Boys,
Till that my Nails were anchor'd in thine Eyes;
And I in fuch a defp'rate Bay of Death,
Like a poor Bark of Sails and Tackling reft,
Rufh all to pieces on thy Rocky Bofom.

K. Rich. Madam, fo thrive I in my Enterprize,
And dangerous fuccefs of bloody Wars,
As I intend more good to you and yours,
Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd.

Queen. What good is cover'd with the Face of Heav'n, To be difco er'd, that can do me good?

K. Rich. Th' Advancement of your Children, gentle Lady: Queen. Up to fome Scaffold, there to lofe their Heads. K.Rich. Unto the dignity and heighth of Fortune, The high Imperial Type of this Earth's Glory. Queen. Flatter my Sorrow with report of it; Tell me, what State, what Dignity, what Honour Canft thou devife to any Child of mine?

K. Rich. Ev'n all I have; ay, and my felf and all, Will I withal endow a Child of thine:

So in the Lethe of thy angry Soul

1 hou drown the fad remembrance of thofe Wrongs, Which thou fuppofeft I have done to thee.

Queen. Be brief, left that the process of thy kindness Laft longer telling, than thy kindness date.

K. Rich. Then know,

That from my Soul I love thy Daughter.

Queen. My Daughter's Mother thinks it with her Soul: K. Rich. What do you think?

Queen. That thou doft love my Daughter from thy Soul.
So from thy Soul's love didft thou love her Brothers,
And from my Heart's love, I do thank thee for it.

K. Rich. Be not fo hafty to confound my meaning;
I mean, that with my Soul I love thy Daughter,
And do intend to make her Queen of England.

Queen. Well then, who doft thou mean fhall be her King.
K. Rich. Even he that makes her Queen;

Who elfe fhould be?

Queen. What, thou!

1

R. Rich. Even fo; how think you of it?

Queen:

5

Oneen. How can'ft thou woo her?

K. Rich. That I would learn of you,
As one being beft acquainted with her Humour.
Queen. And wilt thou learn of me?

K. Rich. Madam, with all my Heart.

Queen. Send to her, by the Man that flew her Brothers,
A pair of bleeding Hearts; thereon engrave
Edward and York, then haply will fhe weep:
Therefore prefent to her, as fometime Margaret
Did to thy Father, fteept in Rutland's Blood,
A Handkerchief; which, fay to her, did drain
The purple fap from her fweet Brothers Bodies
And bid her wipe her weeping Eyes withal.
If this Inducement move her not to Love,
Send her a Letter of thy Noble Deeds;
Tell her, thou mad'ft away her Uncle Clarence,
Her Uncle Rivers; ay, and for her fake,

Mad'ft quick Conveyance with her good Aunt Anne,
K. Rich. You mock me, Madam, this is not the way
To win your Daughter.

Queen. There is no other way,

Unless thou could'ft put on fome other Shape,
And not be Richard, that hath done all this.

K. Rich. Say, that I did all this for love of her.

Queen. Nay then indeed the cannot chufe but hate thee, Having bought love with fuch a bloody Spoil.

K. Rich. Look, what is done, cannot be now amended: Men fhall deal unadvifedly fometimes,

of.

Which after-hours give leifure to repent
If I did take the Kingdom from your Sons,
To make amends, I'll give it to your Daughter:
If I have kill'd the Iffue of your Womb,
To quicken your encreafe I will beget
Mine Iffue of your blood, upon your Daughter:
A Grandam's name is little lefs in love,
Than is the doting Title of a Mother;
They are as Children but one ftep below,
Even of your Metal, of your very Blood:
Of all one pain, fave for a Night of Groans
Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like Sorrow.
Your Children were Vexation to your Youth,

But

But mine fhall be a comfort to your Age,
The lofs you have is but a Son being King,
And by that lofs your Daughter is made Queen.
I cannot make you what amends I would,
Therefore accept fuch kindness as I can.
Dorfet, your Son, that with a fearful Soul
Leads difcontented Steps in Foreign Soil,
This fair Alliance quickly fhall call home
To high Promotions and great Dignity.
The King that calls your beauteous Daughter Wife,
Familiarly fhall call thy Dorfet Brother:
Again fhall you be Mother to a King;
And all the ruins of diftrefsful Times,
Repair'd with double Riches of Content.
What? we have many goodly Days to fee:
The liquid drops of Tears that you have shed
Shall come again, transform'd to Orient Pearl,
Advantaging their Love with Intereft
Oftentimes double gain of Happiness.
Go then, my Mother, to thy Daughter, go,
Make bold her bafhful Years with your Experience,
Prepare her Ears to hear a Wooer's tale.
Put in her tender Heart th' afpiring flame
Of golden Sovereignty; acquaint the Princess
With the fweet filent hours of Marriage Joys;
And when this Arm of mine hath chaftifed
The petty Rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham,
Bound with triumphant Garlands will I come,
And lead thy Daughter to a Conqueror's Bed;
To whom I will retail my Conqueft won,
And the fhall be fole Victress, Cafar's Cafar.

Queen. What were I beft to fay, her Father's Brother
Would be her Lord? or fhall I fay, her Uncle?
Or he that flew her Brothers? and her Uncles?
Under what Title fhall I woo for thee,.
That God, the Law, my Honour, and her Love,
Can make seem pleafing to her tender Years?

K. Rich. Infer fair England's Peace by this Alliance.
Queen. Which the fhall purchafe with ftill lafting War.
K. Rich. Tell her, the King, that may command, intreats.
Queen. That at her Hands, which the King's King forbids.

K. Rich. Say, the fhall be a high and mighty Queen.
Queen. To vail the Title, as her Mother doth,
K. Rich. Say, I will love her everlastingly,

Queen. But how long fhall that Title ever laft?
K. Rich. Sweetly in force, unto her fair life's end.
Queen. But how long, fairly, fhall her fweet life last ?
K. Rich. As long as Heav'n and Nature lengthens it.
Queen. As long as Hell and Richard likes of it.
K. Rich. Say, I, her Sovereign, am her Subject low.
Queen. But the, your Subject, loaths fuch Sovereignty.
K. Rich. Be eloquent in my behalf to her.

Queen. An honeft Tale fpeeds beft, being plainly told.
K. Rich. Then, plainly, to her tell my loving Tale.
Queen. Plain and not honeft, is too harsh a Stile.
K. Rich. Your Reafons are too fhallow, and too quick.
Queen. O no, my Reasons are too deep and dead;
Too deep and dead, poor Infants in their Graves,
Harp on it still shall I, 'till Heart-ftrings break.

K. Rich. Harp not on that String, Madam, that is past. Now by my George, my Garter, and my Crown Queen. Profan'd, difhonour'd, and the third ufurp'd. K. Rich. I fwear.

Queen. By nothing, for this is no Oath:

Thy George profan'd, hath loft his lordly Honour,
Thy Garter blemish'd, pawn'd his kingly Virtue,
Thy Crown ufurp'd, difgrac'd his kingly Glory:
If fomething thou would'ft fwear to be believ'd,
Swear then by fomething that thou haft not wrong'd.
K. Rich. Then by my felf-

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Queen. Thy felf is felf-mifus'd.

K. Rich. Now by the World-
Queen. 'Tis full of thy foul Wrongs.
K. Rich. My Father's Death-
Queen. Thy Life hath it dishonour'd.
K. Rich. Why then, by Heav'n
Queen. Heav'n's Wrong is most of all:
If thou didst fear to break an Oath with him,
The Unity the King my Husband made
Thou hadít not broken, nor my Brothers dy'd.
If thou hadft fear'd to break an Oath by him,
Th' Imperial Metal, circling now thy Head,
VOL. IV.

M

Had

Had grac'd the tender Temples of my Child,
And both the Princes had been breathing here,
Which now two tender Bed-fellows for duft,
Thy broken Faith hath made the prey for Worms.
What canst thou fwear by now?

K. Rich. The Time to come.

Queen That thou haft wronged in the time o'er-paft:
For I my felf have many Tears to wash

Hereafter Time, for time-paft, wrong'd by thee.
The Children live, whofe Fathers thou haft flaughter'd,
Ungovern'd Youth, to wail it with their Age.
The Parents live, whofe Children thou haft butcher'd,
Old barren Plants, to wail it with their Age.
Swear not by Time to come, for that thou haft
Mifus'd e'er us'd, by times ill-us'd o'erpaft.

K. Rich. As I intend to profper, and repent;
So thrive I in my dangerous Affairs

Of hoftile Arms; My felf, my felf confound,
Heaven and Fortune bar me happy Hours,

Day yield me not thy Light, nor Night thy Reft,
Be oppofite all Planets of good Luck

To my proceeding, if with dear Hearts Love,
Immaculate Devotion, holy Thoughts,

I tender not thy beauteous Princely Daughter.
In her confifts my Happinefs and thine;
Without her, follows to my felf and thee,
Her felf, the Land, and many a Christian Soul,
Death, Defolation, Ruin, and Decay :
It cannot be avoided, but by this ;
It will not be avoided, but by this:
Therefore, dear Mother, I must call you fo,
Be the Attorney of my Love to her;
Plead what I will be, not what I have been ;-
Not my Defires, but what I will deferve:
Urge the neceffity and ftate of Times;
And be not peevith found in great Defigns.

Queen. Shall I be tomoted of the Devil thus ?
K. Rich. Av, if the Devil tempt you to do good.
Queen. Shall I forget my felf to be my felf?

K. Rich. Ay, if your felf's remembrance wrong your felf.
Queen. Yet thou didst kill my Children.

K. Rich.

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