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with you.


Duch. Either thou wilt die by God's just | To be discover'd, that can do me good ? ordinance,

K. Rich. The advancement of your children, Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror,

gentle lady. Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish Q. Eliz. Up to some scaffold, there to lose And never more behold thy face again.

their heads? Therefore take with thee my most grievous curse; K. Rich. Untothedignity and height of fortune, Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more The high imperial type of this earth's glory. Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st! Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrow with report of it, My prayers on the adverse party fight; 191 Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour, And there the little souls of Edward's children Canst thou demise to any child of mine? Whisper the spirits of thine enemies

K. Rich. Even all I have; ay, and myself and all, And promise them success and victory. Will I withal endow a child of thine ; Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end; So in the Lethe of thy angry soul Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend. Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs

Erit. Which thou supposest I have done to thee. Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less Q. Eliz. Be brief, lest that the process of thy spirit to curse

kindness Abides in me: I say amen to her. Going. Last longer telling than thy kindness' date. K. Rich. Stay, madam, I must talk a word K. Rich. Then know, that from my soul I lore

thy daughter. Q. Eliz. I have no more sons of the royal blood Q. Eliz. My daughter's mother thinks it with For thee to slaughter: for my daughters, Richard, her soul. They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens; K. Rich. What do you think? And therefore level not to hit their lives.

Q. Eliz. That thou dost love my daughter from K. Rich. You have a daughter call'd Elizabeth, thy soul : Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.

So from thy soul's love didst thou love her Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? O! let brothers ; her live,

And from my heart's love I do thank thee for it. And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty; K. Rich. Be not so hasty to confound my Slander myself as false to Edward's bed;

meaning : Throw over her the veil of infamy:

209 I mean, that with my soul I love thy daughter, So she may live unscarrid of bleeding slaughter, And do intend to make her Queen of England, I will confess she was not Edward's daughter. Q. Eliz. Well then, who dost thou mean shall K. Rich. Wrong not her birth; she is a royal be her king? princess.

K. Rich. Even he that makes her queen : who Q. Eliz. To save her life, I 'll say she is not so. else should be ? K'. Rich. Her life is safest only in her birth. Q. Eliz. What! thou? Q. Eliz. And only in that safety died her K. Rich. Even so : how think you of it? brothers.

Q. Eliz. How canst thou woo her ? K. Rich. Lo! at their birth good stars were K. Rich,

That I would learn of you, opposite.

As one being best acquainted with her humour. Q. Eliz. No, to their lives ill friends were Q. Eliz. And wilt thou learn of me? contrary

K. Rich. Madam, with all my heart. 21 K. Rich. All unavoided is the doom of destiny. Q. Eliz. Send to her, by the man that slew Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes her brothers, destiny.

A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave My babes were destin'd to a fairer death, 220 Edward and York; then haply will she weep: If grace had bless d thee with a fairer life. Therefore present to her, as sometime Margaret K. Rich. You speak as if that I had slain my Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood, cousins.

A handkerchief, which, say to her, did drain Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed ; and by their uncle The purple sap from her sweet brothers' body, cozen'd

And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal. Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. If this inducement move her not to love, Whose hand soever lanc'd their tender hearts, Send her a letter of thy noble deeds; Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction : Tell her thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence, No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt Her uncle Rivers ; ay, and for her sake, Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart, Mad'st quick conveyance with her good annt To revel in the entrails of my lambs.

Anne. But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame, K. Rich. You mock me, madam ; this is not My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes; To win your daughter. And I, in such a desperate bay of death,

There is no other way Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft, Unless thou could'st put on some other shape, Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom.

And not be Richard that hath done all this. K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise K. Rich. Say that I did all this for love of her! And dangerous success of bloody wars,

Q. Eliz. Nay, then indeed she cannot choose As I intend more good to you and yours

but hate thee, Than ever you or yours by me were harm’d. Having bought love with such a bloody spoil. Q. Eliz. What good is cover'd with the face K. Rich. Look, what is done cannot be now of heaven,

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the way

Q. Eliz.






Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,

Q. Eliz. As long as hell and Richard likes of it. Which after-hours give leisure to repent.

K. Rich. Say, I, her sovereign, am her subject If I did take the kingdom from your sons,

low. To make amends I'll give it to your daughter. Q. Eliz. But she, your subject, loathes such If I have kill'd the issue of your womb,

sovereignty. To quicken your increase, I will beget

K. Rich. Be eloquent in my behalf to her. Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter: Q. Eliz. An honest tale speeds best being A grandam's name is little less in love

plainly told. Than is the doting title of a mother ;

K. Rich. Then plainly to her tell my loving tale. They are as children but one step below,

Q. Eliz. Plain and not honestis too harsha style. Even of your mettle, of your very blood;

K. Rich. Your reasons are too shallow and too Of all one pain, save for a night of groans

quick. Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow. Q. Eliz. O, no! my reasons are too deep and Your children were vexation to your youth,

dead; But mine shall be a comfort to your age. Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. The loss you have is but a son being king,

K. Rich. Harp not on that string, madam; And by that loss your daughter is made queen.

that is past. I cannot make you what amends I would, Q. Eliz. Harp on it still shall I till heartstrings Therefore accept such kindness as I can.

break. Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul

K. Rich. Now, by my George, my garter, and Leads discontented steps in foreign soil,

my crown, This fair alliance quickly shall call home

Q. Eliz. Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third To high promotions and great dignity:

usurp'd. The king, that calls your beauteous daughter wife, K. Rich. I swearFamiliarly shall call thy Dorset brother ;

Q. Eliz.

By nothing ; for this is no oath. Again shall you be mother to a king,

Thy George, profan'd, hath lost his holy honour; And all the ruins of distressful times

Thy garter, blemish d, pawnd his knightly virtue; Repair'd with double riches of content. 320 Thy crown, usurp'd, disgrac'd his kingly glory: What ! we have many goodly days to see : If something thou would'st swear to be believ'd, The liquid drops of tears that you have shed Swear then by something that thou hast not Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl, wrong'd. Advantaging their loan with interest

K. Rich. Now, by the world, Of ten times double gain of happiness.

Q. Eliz.

'Tis full of thy foul wrongs. Go then, my mother; to thy daughter go : K. Rich. My father's death, Make bold her bashful years with yourexperience; Q. Eliz.

Thy life hath it dishonour'd. Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale ;

K. Rich. Then, by myself, --Put in her tender heart the aspiring flame

Q. Eliz.

Thyself is self-misus'd. Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the princess 330 K. Rich. Why then, by God,With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys : Q. Eliz.

God's wrong is most of all. And when this arm of mine hath chastised If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by him, The petty rebel, dull-brain’d Buckingham, The unity the king my husband made Bound with triumphant garlands will I come, Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers died : And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed ; If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by him, To whom I will retail my conquest won, The imperial metal, circling now thy head, And she shall be sole victress, Cæsar's Cæsar, Had grac'd the tender temples of my child, Q. Eliz. What were I best to say? her father's And both the princes had been breathing here, brother

Which now, two tender bedfellows for dust, Would be her lord ? or shall I say her uncle? Thy broken faith hath made the prey for worms. Or he that slew her brothers and her uncles? 340 What canst thou swear by now? Under what title shall I woo for thee,

K. Rich.

The time to come. That God, the law, my honour, and her love, Q. Eliz. That thou hast wronged in the time Can make seem pleasing to her tender years ? o'erpast; K. Rich. Infer fair England's peace by this For I myself have many tears to wash alliance.

Hereafter time for time past wrong'd by thee. Q. Eliz. Which she shall purchase with still The children live, whose fathers thou hast lasting war.

slaughter'd, K. Rich. Tell her, the king, that may com- Ungovernd youth, to wail it in their age : mand, entreats.

The parents live, whose children thou hast Q. Eliz. That at her hands which the kings' butcher'd, King forbids.

Old barren plants, to wail it with their age. K. Rich. Say she shall be a high and mighty Swear not by time to come ; for that thou hast queen.

Misus'd ere us’d, by times ill-us'd o'erpast. Q. Eliz. To wail the title, as her mother doth. K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and repent, K. Rich. Say I will love her everlastingly. 350 So thrive I in my dangerous affairs Q. Eliz. But how long shall that title 'ever' last? Of hostile arms! myself myself confound ! K. Rich. Sweetlyin force unto her fair life'send. Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours ! Q. Eliz. But how long fairly shall her sweet Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy rest! life last

Be opposite all planets of good luck K. Rich. As long as heaven and nature To my proceeding, if, with dear heart's love, lengthens it

Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,




I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter!
In her consists my happiness and thine;
Without her, follows to myself, and thee,
Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul,
Death, desolation, ruin, and decay:
It cannot be avoided but by this;
It will not be avoided but by this.
Therefore, good mother, I must call you so,
Be the attorney of my love to her :
Plead what I will be, not what I have been ;
Not my deserts, but what I will deserve:
Urge the necessity and state of times,
And be not peevish-fond in great designs.

Q. Eliz. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus?
K. Rich. Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do good.
Q. Eliz. Shall I forget myself to be myself? 421
K. Rich. Ay, if yourself's remembrance wrong


Q. Eliz. Yet thou didst kill my children. K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I bury them :

Where, in that nest of spicery, they will 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. 430 K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss; and so farewell. Exit Queen ELIZABETII. Relenting fool, and shallow changing woman! Enter RATCLIFF; CATESBY following. How now! what news?

Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western


Rideth a puissant navy; to the shores
Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends,
Unarm'd, and unresolv'd to beat them back.
'Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral;
And there they hull, expecting but the aid
Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore.


K. Rich. Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Norfolk :

Ratcliff, thyself, or Catesby; where is he?
Cates. Here, my good lord.
K. Rich.
Catesby, fly to the duke.
Cates. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste.
K. Rich. Ratcliff, come hither. Post to Salisbury:
When thou com'st thither,- To CATESBY. Dull,
unmindful villain,

Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke? Cates. First, mighty liege, tell me your highness' pleasure,


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,
And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.

Cates. I go.


Rat. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury?

Nor none so bad but well may be reported.


K. Rich. Heyday, ariddle! 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?

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;


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. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess. K. Rich. Well, as you guess?

Stan. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham and Morton,

He makes for England, here to claim the crown. K. Rich. Is the chair empty is the sword unsway'd?


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?

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Enter a third Messenger.

And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew; Third Mese. My lord, the army of great Buck. And many other of great name and worth: ingham

And towards London do they bend their power, K. kich. Out on ye, owls! nothing but songs If by the way they be not fought withal. of death?

He strikes him.

Stan. Well, hie thee to thy lord : I kiss his

hand; There, take thou that, till thou bring better news. Third Mess. The news I have totell your majesty These letters will resolve him of my mind.

Farewell. Is, that by sudden floods and fall of waters, 511

Buckingham's army is dispers'd and scatter'd ;
And he himself wander'd away alone,

No man knows whither.
K. Rich.
I cry thee mercy :

SCENE I.-- Salisbury. An open Place. There is my purse to cure that blow of thine. Enter the Sheriffand Guard, with BUCKINGHAM, Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd

led to execution. Reward to him that brings the traitor in?

Buck. Will not King Richard let me speak Third Mess. Such proclamation hath been with him? made, my liege.

Sher. No, my good lord ; therefore be patient. Enter a fourth Messenger.

Buck. Hastings, and Edward's children, Grey,

and Rivers, Pourth Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward, Marquess Dorset,

Vaughan, and all that have miscarried 'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms : 520 By underband corrupted foul injustice, But this good comfort bring I to your highness, If that your moody discontented souls The Breton navy is dispers'd by tempest. Do through the clouds behold this present hour, Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat

Even for revenge mock my destruction! Into the shore to ask those on the banks

This is All-Souls' day, fellows, is it not? If they were his assistants, yea or no;

Sher. It is, my lord. Who answer'd him, they came from Buckingham Buck. Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's C'pon his party : he, mistrusting them,

doomsday. Hois'd sail and made away for Brittany. This is the day that, in King Edward's time, K. Rich. March on, march on, since we are up I wish'd might fall on me, when I was found in arms;

False to his children or his wife's allies ; If not to fight with foreign enemies, 530 This is the day wherein I wish'd to fall Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.

By the false faith of him whom most I trusted; Re-enter CATESBY.

This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul Cates. My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs. taken ;

That high All-Seer which I dallied with That is the best news: that the Earl of Richmond And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest.

Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head, Is with a mighty power landed at Milford

Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men Is colder news, but yet they must be told. K. Rich. Away towards Salisbury! while we Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck:

Toturntheirown points on their masters' bosoms : reason here A royal battle might be won and lost.

“When he,' quoth she, shall split thy heart

with sorrow, Some one take order Buckingham be brought

Remember Margaret was a prophetess.' To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.

Plourish. Exeunt. Come, lead me, officers, to the block of shame;

Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.

Excunt. SCENE V.- The Same. A Room in Lord STANLEY's House.

SCENE II.-A Plain near Tamworth. Enter STANLEY and Sir CHRISTOPHER Enter, with drum and colours, RICHMOND, OXFORD, URSWICK.

Sir JAMES BLUNT, Sir WALTER HERBERT, Stan. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this

and Others, with Porces, marching. from me:

Richm. Fellows in arms, and my most loving That in the sty of the most bloody boar

friends, My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold : Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny, If I revolt, off goes young George's head ; Thus far into the bowels of the land The fear of that holds off my present aid. Have we march'd on without impediment: So, get thee gone : commend me to thy lord. And here receive we from our father Stanley Withal, say, that the queen hath heartily con- Lines of fair comfort and encouragement. sented

The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar, He should espouse Elizabeth her daughter. That spoil'd your summer fields and fruitfulvines, But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now? Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes Chris. At Pembroke or at Ha'rford-west, in his trough Wales.

10 In your embowell’d bosoms, this foul swine Stan. What men of name resort to him? Lies now even in the centre of this isle,

Chris. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier, Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn : Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley,

From Tamworth thither is but one day's march. Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt, In God's name, cheerly on, courageous friends,



10 20


To reap the harvest of perpetual peace

Blunt. Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake it; By this one bloody trial of sharp war.

And so, God give you quiet rest to-night! Oxf. Everyman's conscience is a thousand men, Richm. Good night, good Captain Blunt. Come, To fight against this guilty homicide.

gentlemen, Herb. I doubt not but his friends will turn to us. Let us consult upon to-morrow's business ; Blunt. He hath no friends but what are friends In to my tent; the dew is raw and cold. for fear,

They withdraw into the tent. Which in his dearest need will fly from him.

Enter, to his tent, King RICHARD, NORFOLK, Richm. All for our vantage : then, in God's

name, march.
True hope is swift, and flies with swallow'swings; K. Rich. What is 't o'clock ?
Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. Cates.

It's supper-time, my lord ;
Ereunt. It's nine o'clock.

K. Rich. I will not sup to-night.
SCENE III.-Bosworth Field.

Give me some ink and paper.
Enter King RICHARD and Forces ; the Duke of

What, is my beaver easier than it was, NORFOLK, Earl of SURREY, and Others.

And all my armour laid into my tent?

Cates. It is, my liege; and all things are in K. Rich. Here pitch our tents, even here in

readiness. Bosworth field.

K. Rich. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge; My Lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?

Use careful watch ; choose trusty sentinels. Sur. My heart is ten times lighter than my

Nor. I go, my lord. looks.

K. Rich. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle K. Rich. My Lord of Norfolk,

Here, most gracious liege.
Nor. I warrant you, my lord.

Erit. K. Rich. Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha!

K. Rich. Ratcliff ! must we not!

Rat. My lord ! Nor. We must both give and take, my gracious

K. Rich. Send out a pursuivant at arms lord. K. Rich. Up with my tent! here will I lie to. Before sun-rising, lest his son George fall

To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power night;

Into the blind cave of eternal night. But where to-morrow? Well, all's one for that. Fill me a bowl of wine. Give me a watch. Who bath descried the number of the traitors ?

Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow. Nor. Six or seven thousand is their utmost Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy. power.

10 Ratcliff! K. Rich. Why, our battalia trebles thataccount:

Rat. My lord! Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength,

K. Rich. Saw'st thou the melancholy Lord Which they upon the adverse faction want.

Northumberland ? Up with the tent! Come, noble gentlemen,

Rat. Thomas the Earl of Surrey, and himself, Let us survey the vantage of the ground;

Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop Call for some men of sound direction :

Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers. Let's lack no discipline, make no delay ;

K. Rich. So; I am satisfied. Give me a bowl For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day. Exeunt.

of wine: Enter, on the other side of the field, RICHMOND, Sir Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have.

I have not that alacrity of spirit, William BRANDON, OXFORD, and other Officers. Set it down. Is ink and paper ready ? Some of the Soldiers pitch RICHMOND's tent.

Rat. It is, my lord. Richm. The weary sun hath made a golden set, K. Rich. Bid my guard watch ; leave me. And, by the bright track of his fiery car,

20 Ratcliff, about the mid of night come to my tent Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.

And help to arm me. Leave me, I say. Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard. King RICHARD retires into his tent. Exeunt Give me some ink and paper in my tent :

RATCLIFF and CATESBY. I'll draw the form and model of our battle,

RICHMOND's tent opens, and discovers him and Limit each leader to his several charge,

his Officers, etc. And part in just proportion our small power. My Lord of Oxford, you, Sir William Brandon,

Enter STANLEY. And you, Sir Walter Herbert, stay with me. Stan. Fortune and victory sit on thy helm! The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment: Richm. All comfort that the dark night can Good Captain Blunt, bear my good-night to him, afford And by the second hour in the morning

Be to thy person, noble father-in-law ! Desire the earl to see me in my tent.

Tell me, how fares our loving mother ? Yet one thing more, good captain, do for me ; Stan. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother, Where is Lord Stanley quarter'd, do you know? Who prays continually for Richmond's good :

Blunt. Unless I have mista'en his colours much, So much for that. The silent hours steal on, Which well I am assur'd I have not done, And flaky darkness breaks within the east. His regiment lies half a mile at least

In brief, for so the season bids us be,
South from the mighty power of the king. Prepare thy battle early in the morning,

Richm. If without peril it be possible, 39 And put thy fortune to the arbitrement
Good Captain Blunt, bear my good-night to him, Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war.
And give him from me this most needful scroll. I, as I may, that which I would I cannot,


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