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And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell.
Duch. O ill-dispersing wind of misery !
Stan. Come, madam, come; I in all haste was sent.
Anne. And I with all unwillingness will go.-
Q. Eliz. Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory;
Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse;
? A serpent supposed to originate from a cock's egg. 3 The crown.
Q. Eliz. Poor heart, adieu ; I pity thy complaining.
yours. Dor. Farewell, thou woful welcomer of glory! Anne. Adieu, poor soul, that tak’st thy leave of it! Duch. Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee!
[To DORSET, Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee!
[TO ANNE. Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee!
[TO Q. ELIZABETH. I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me! Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen, And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen.s
Q. Eliz. Stay yet; look back, with me, unto the
Tower. Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes, Whom envy hath immur'd within your walls ! Rough cradle for such little pretty ones! Rude ragged nurse! old sullen play-fellow For tender princes, use my babies well ! So foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell. [Exeunt.
A Room of State in the Palace. Flourish of Trumpets. RICHARD, as King upon his
Throne; BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, a Page, and others. K. Rich. Stand all apart.- Cousin of Bucking
ham, Buck. My gracious sovereign. K. Rich. Give me thy hand. Thus high, by thy
Buck. Still live they, and for ever let them last!
if thou be current gold, indeed :Young Edward lives; Think now what I would
Buck. Say on, my loving lord.
king. Buck. Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned liege. K. Rich. Ha! am I king? 'Tis so: but Edward
lives. Buck. True, noble prince. K. Rich.
O bitter consequence,
Buck. Your grace may do your pleasure.
freezes : Say, have I thy consent, that they shall die ? Buck. Give me some breath, some little pause,
dear lord, Before I positively speak in this : I will resolve your grace immediately.
[Exit BUCKINGHAM. Cate. The king is angry; see, he gnaws his lip.
[Aside. K. Rich. I will converse with iron-witted fools,
[Descends from his Throne. And unrespective boys :? none are for me, That look into me with considerate eyes ;High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect. Boy,„Page. My lord.
K. Rich. Know'st thou not any, whom corrupting
gold Would tempt unto a close exploits of death ?
Page. I know a discontented gentleman,
K. Rich. What is his name?
His name, my lord, is-Tyrrel. K. Rich. I partly know the man; Go, call him hither, boy.
[Exit Page. The deep-revolving witty Buckingham No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels : Hath he so long held out with me untir'd, And stops he now for breath ?--well, be it so.
How now, lord Stanley? what's the news ?
Know, my loving lord,
K. Rich. Come hither, Catesby: rumour it abroad, That Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick ;. I will take order for her keeping close. Inquire me out some mean-born gentleman, Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' daughter: The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.Look, how thou dream’st !-I say again, give out, That Anne my queen is sick, and like to die ;
8 Secret act.