That God, the law, my honour, and her love, K. Rich. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance. war. K. Rich. Tell her, the king, that may command, entreats. Q. Eliz. That at her hands, which the king's King forbids.' K. Rich. Say, she shall be a high and mighty queen. Q. Eliz. To wail the title, as her mother doth. K. Rich. Say, I will love her everlastingly. Q. Eliz. But how long shall that title, ever, last? K. Rich. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end. Q. Eliz. But how long fairly shall her sweet life last? K. Rich. As long as heaven, and nature, lengthens it. Q. Eliz. As long as hell, and Richard, likes of it. K. Rich. Be eloquent in my behalf to her. told. K. Rich. Then, in plain terms tell her my loving tale. Q. Eliz. Plain, and not honest, is too harsh a style.. K. Rich. Your reasons are too shallow and too quick. Q. Eliz. O, no, my reasons are too deep and dead; Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. K. Rich. Harp not on that string, madam; that is past. which the king's King forbids.] Alluding to the prohibition in the Levitical law. Q. Eliz. Harp on it still shall I, till heart-strings break. K. Rich. Now, by my George, my garter, and crown, my Q. Eliz. Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third usurp❜d. K. Rich. I swear. Q. Eliz. By nothing: for this is no oath. Thy George, profan'd, hath lost his holy honour; Thy garter, blemish'd, pawn'd his knightly virtue; Thy crown, usurp'd, disgrac'd his kingly glory: If something thou would'st swear to be believ'd, Swear then by something that thou hast not wrong'd. K. Rich. Now by the world, Q. Eliz. "Tis full of thy foul wrongs. K. Rich. My father's death,- Thy life hath that dishonour'd. K. Rich. Then, by myself,- Thyself is self-mis-us'd. by God, K. Rich. Why then, Q. Eliz. God's wrong is most of all. If thou had'st fear'd to break an oath by him, The unity, the king thy brother made, Had not been broken, nor my brother slain. If thou had'st fear'd to break an oath by him, The imperial metal, circling now thy head, Had grac'd the tender temples of my child; And both the princes had been breathing here, Which now, two tender bed-fellows for dust, Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms. What canst thou swear by now? K. Rich. By the time to come. Q. Eliz. That thou hast wronged in the time o'er past; For I myself have many tears to wash Hereafter time, for time past, wrong'd by thee. Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age: The parents live, whose children thou hast butcher'd, K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and repent! Of hostile arms! myself myself confound! To my proceeding, if, with pure heart's love, I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter! Q. Eliz. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus? Q. Eliz. But thou didst kill my children. K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I bury them: Where, in that nest of spicery, they shall breed Q. Eliz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? K. Rich. And be a happy mother by the deed. Q. Eliz. I go.-Write to me very shortly, And you shall understand from me her mind. K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss, and so farewell. [Kissing her. Exit Q. ELIZABETH. Relenting fool, and shallow, changing-woman!" How now? what news? Enter RATCLIFF; CATESBY following. Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast Rideth a puissant navy; to the shore Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, Ratcliff, thyself,-or Catesby; where is he? K. Rich. Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke? Cate. First, mighty liege, tell me your highness' pleasure, What from your grace I shall deliver to him. -changing-woman!] Such was the real character of this Queen dowager, who would have married her daughter to King Richard, and did all in her power to alienate the Marquis of Dorset, her son, from the earl of Richmond. 7 Some light-foot friend, &c.] Richard's precipitation and confusion is in this scene very happily represented by inconsistent orders, and sudden variations of opinion. JOHNSON. K. Rich. O, true, good Catesby;-Bid him levy straight The greatest strength and power he can make, Cate. I go. [Exit. Rat. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salis bury? K. Rich. Why, what would'st thou do there, before I go? Rat. Your highness told me, I should post before. Enter STANLey. K. Rich. My mind is chang'd.-Stanley, what news with you? Stan. None good, my liege, to please you with the hearing; Nor none so bad, but well may be reported. K. Rich. Heyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad! What need'st thou run so many miles about, When thou may'st tell thy tale the nearest way? Once more, what news? Stan. Richmond is on the seas. K. Rich. There let him sink, and be the seas on him! White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there? Stan. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and He makes for England, here to claim the crown. K. Rich. Is the chair empty? Is the sword unsway'd? Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd? What heir of York is there alive, but we? And who is England's king, but great York's heir? Then, tell me, what makes he upon the seas? |