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K. Rich. Then know, that, from my soul, I love

thy daughter. Q. Eliz. My daughter's mother thinks it with her

soul.! K. Rich. What do


think? Q. Eliz. That thou dost love my daughter, from

thy soul: So, from thy soul's love, didst thou love her brothers; And, from my heart's love, I do thank thee for it.

K. Rich. Be not so hasty to confound my meaning: I mean, that with my soul I love thy daughter, And do intend to make her queen of England. Q. Eliz. Well then, who dost thou mean shall be

her king ? K. Rich. Even he, that makes her queen;

Who else should be ? Q. Eliz. What, thou ? K. Rich.

Even so: What think you of it, madam ? Q. Eliz. How canst thou woo her ? K. Rich.

That I would learn of you, As one being best acquainted with her humour.

Q. Eliz. And wilt thou learn of me?
K. Rich.

Madam, with all


heart. Q. Eliz. Send to her, by the man that slew her

A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave,
Edward, and York; then, haply, will she weep :
Therefore present to her,-as sometime Margaret
Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood,

A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain
The purple sap from her sweet brother's body,
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'st away her uncle Clarence,
Her uncle Rivers; ay, and, for her sake,
Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne.
K. Rich. You mock me, madam ; this is not the

To win you daughter.
Q. Eliz.

There is no other way ;
Unless thou could'st put on some other shape,
And not be Richard that hath done all this.

K. Rich. Say, that I did all this for love of her ?
Q. Eliz. Nay, then indeed, she cannot choose but

have thee, Having bought love with such a bloody spoil. K. Rich. Look, what is done cannot be now

amended :
Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,
Which after-hours give leisure 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 issue of

your womb,
To quicken your increase, I will beget
Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter.
A grandam's name is little less in love,
Than is the doting title of a mother;
They are as children, but one step below,

Even of your mettle, of your very blood; Of all one pain,-save for a night of groans Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow. Your children were vexation to your youth, But mine shall be a comfort to your age. The loss, you have, is but-a son being king, And, by that loss, your daughter is made queen. I cannot make you what amends I would, Therefore accept such kindness as I can. Dorset your son, that, with a fearful soul, Leads discontented steps in foreign soil, This fair alliance quickly shall call home To high promotions and great dignity : The king, that calls your beauteous daughter,-wife, Familiarly shall call thy Dorset-brother; Again shall you be mother to a king, And all the ruins of distressful times Repair’d with double riches of content. What! we have many goodly days to see : The liquid drops of tears that you have shed, Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl ; Advantaging their loan, with interest Of ten-times-double gain of happiness. Go then, my mother, to thy daughter go; Make bold her bashful years with your experience; Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale; Put in her tender heart the aspiring flame Of golden soy'reignty, acquaint the princess With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys: And when this arm of mine hath chástised

The petty rebel, dull-brain's Buckingham,
Bound with triumphant garlands will I come,
And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed ;
To whom I will retail my conquest won,
And she shall be sole victress, Cæsar's Cæsar.
Q. Eliz. What were I best to say ? her father's

Would be her lord ? Or shall I say, her uncle?
Or, he that slew her brothers, and her uncles ?
Under what title shall I woo for thee,
That God, the law, my honour, and her love,
Can make seem pleasing to her tender years ?

K. Rich. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance.
Q. Eliz. Which she shall purchase with still lasting


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. Say, I, her soy'reign, am her subject low. VOL. IX.


Q. Eliz. But she, your subject, loaths such sov'

reignty. K. Rich. Be eloquent in my behalf to her. Q. Eliz. An honest tale speeds best, being plainly

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. You 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. Q. Eliz. Harp on it still shall I, till heart-strings

break. K. Rich. Now, by my george, my garter, and my

crown, Q. Eliz. Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third


K, Rich, I swear.
Q. Eliz.

By nothing; for this is no oath,
Thy george, profan'd, hath lost his holy honour;
Thy garter, blemishd, pawn'd his knightly virtue;
Thy crown, usurp'd, disgrac'd his kingly glory:
If something thou wouldst 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,

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