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. 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 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. Elix. '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. K. Rich. Why then, by God,- Had not been broken, nor my brother slain. /* The ensigns of the order of the Garter. Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms. 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. The children live, whose parents thou hast slaughter'd, 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! To my proceeding, if, with pure heart's love, I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter! It cannot be avoided, but by this; Plead what I will be, not what I have been; * Foolish. Q. Eliz. But thou didst kill my children. them; Where, in that nest of spicery*, they shall breed Selves of themselves, to your recomforture. 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. Eliz. 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, K. Rich. Some light-foot friend post to the duke of Norfolk: Ratcliff, thyself,-or Catesby; where is he? lain, What from your grace I shall deliver to him. K. Rich. O, true, good Catesby;-Bid him levy straight The greatest strength and power he can make, Cate. I go. *The phoenix's nest. [Exit. Rat. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury? 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? And who is England's king, but great York's heir? Stan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess. K. Rich. Unless for that he comes to be your liege, You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes. Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear. Stan. No, mighty liege; therefore mistrust me not. K. Rich. Where is thy power then, to beat him back? Where be thy tenants, and thy followers? Stan. No, my good lord, my friends are in the north. K. Rich. Cold friends to me: what do they in the north, When they should serve their sovereign in the west? Stan. They have not been commanded, mighty king: Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave, I'll muster up my friends; and meet your grace, Where, and what time, your majesty shall please. K. Rich. Ay, ay, thou wouldst begone to join with Richmond: I will not trust you, sir. Stan. Most mighty sovereign, You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful; I never was, nor never will be, false. K. Rich. Well, go, muster men. But, hear you, leave behind Your son, George Stanley; look your heart be firm, Or else his head's assurance is but frail. Stan. So deal with him, as I prove true to you. [Exit Stanley. Enter a Messenger. Mess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, As I by friends am well advértised, Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate, With many more confederates, are in arms, Enter another Messenger. 2 Mess. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in arms; And every hour more competitors* Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong. * Associates. |