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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?
Madam, with all
heart. Q. Eliz. Send to her, by the man that slew her
A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain
There is no other way ;
K. Rich. Say, that I did all this for love of her ?
have thee, Having bought love with such a bloody spoil. K. Rich. Look, what is done cannot be now
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,
K. Rich. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance.
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.
By nothing; for this is no oath,
K. Rich. Now by the world,-
"Tis full of thy foul wrongs. K. Rich. My father's death,