K. Rich. 'Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that call'd your grace

To breakfast once, forth of my company.
If I be so disgracious in your sight,

Let me march on, and not offend you, madam.-
Strike up the drum.

Duch.

I pr'ythee, hear me speak.
K. Rich. You speak too bitterly.
Duch.

Hear me a word,

For I shall never speak to thee again.

K. Rich. So.

Duch. Either thou wilt die, by God's just ordinance, Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror;

Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish,
And never look upon thy face again.

Therefore, take with thee my most heavy curse;
Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more,
Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st!
My prayers on the adverse party fight;
And there the little souls of Edward's children
Whisper the spirits of thine enemies,

And promise them success and victory.
Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end;

Shame serves thy life, and doth thy death attend.

[Exit. Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse

Abides in me; I say amen to her.

[Going. K. Rich. Stay, madam,' I must speak a word with

you.

5. Humphrey Hour,] I believe nothing more than a quibble was meant. In our poet's twentieth Sonnet we find a similar conceit; a quibble between hues (colours) and Hughes, (formerly spelt Hewes) the person addressed. MALONE.

6 Shame serves thy life,] To serve is to accompany, servants being near the persons of their masters.

Stay, madam,] On this dialogue 'tis not necessary to bestow

Q. Eliz. I have no more sons of the royal blood, For thee to murder: for my daughters, Richard,They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens; And therefore level not to hit their lives.

K. Rich. You have a daughter call'd-Elizabeth, Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.

Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? O, let her live,
And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty;
Slander myself, as false to Edward's bed;
Throw over her the veil of infamy:

So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter,
I will confess she was not Edward's daughter.

K. Rich. Wrong not her birth, she is of royal blood.

Q. Eliz. To save her life, I'll say-she is not so.
K. Rich. Her life is safest only in her birth.
Q. Eliz. And only in that safety died her brothers.
K. Rich. Lo, at their births good stars were
opposite.

Q. Eliz. No, to their lives bad friends were contrary.

K. Rich. All unavoided is the doom of destiny. Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes destiny: My babes were destin'd to a fairer death,

If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life.

K. Rich. You speak, as if that I had slain my

cousins.

much criticism, part of it is ridiculous, and the whole improbable. JOHNSON.

I cannot agree with Dr. Johnson's opinion. I see nothing ridiculous in any part of this dialogue; and with respect to probability, it was not unnatural that Richard, who by his art and wheedling tongue had prevailed on Lady Anne to marry him in her heart's extremest grief, should hope to persuade an ambitious, and, as he thought her, a wicked woman, to consent to his marriage with her daughter, which would make her a queen, and aggrandize her family. M. MASON.

• All unavoided, &c.] i. e. unavoidable.

Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle
cozen'd

Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.
Whose hands soever lanc'd their tender hearts,
Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction:

No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt,
Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart,
To revel in the entrails of my lambs.

But that still use' of grief makes wild grief tame,
My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys,
Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes;
And I in such a desperate bay of death,
Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft,
Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom.

K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprize,
And dangerous success of bloody wars,
As I intend more good to you and yours,
Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd!

Q. Eliz. What good is cover'd with the face of heaven,

To be discover'd, that can do me good?

K.Rich. The advancement of your children, gentle

lady.

Q. Eliz. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads?

K. Rich. No, to the dignity and height of fortune, The high imperial type' of this earth's glory.

Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrows with report of it; Tell me, what state, what dignity, what honour, Canst thou demise to any child of mine?

2

K. Rich, Even all I have; ay, and myself and all, Will I withal endow a child of thine;

-still use - i. e. constant use.

The high imperial type-] Type is exhibition, show, display, or perhaps emblem.

Canst thou demise-] To demise is to grant, from demittere, to devolve a right from one to another.

So in the Lethe of thy angry soul

Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs, Which, thou supposest, I have done to thee,

Q. Eliz. Be brief, lest that the process of thy kindness

Last longer telling than thy kindness' date.

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 you 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?

That I would learn of you,

Madam, with all my heart.

As one being best acquainted with her humour.

Q. Eliz. And wilt thou learn of me?

K. Rich.

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

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 way
To win your 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 doating 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.3
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.

3 -bid like sorrow.] Bid is in the past tense from bide.