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. Eliz. '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 †,- God's wrong is most of all. If thou had'st fear'd to break an oath by him, 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, 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 ; Q. Eliz. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus ? K. Rich. Ay, if your self's remembrance wrong your- Q. Eliz. But thou didst kill my children. K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I bury them: Q. Eliz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? 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. ELIZABETH. Relenting fool, and shallow, changing—woman! How now? what news? Enter RATCLIFF; CATESBY following. Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, K. Rich. Some light-foot friend post to the duke' of Ratcliff, thyself,-or Catesby; where is he? Cate. Here, my good lord. K. Rich. Catesby, fly to the duke. Cate. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. K. Rich. Ratcliff, come hither: Post to Salisbury; When thou com'st thither,-Dull, unmindful villain, [TO CATESBY. Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke? Cate. First, mighty liege, tell me your highness' pleasure, What from your grace I shall deliver to him. 6 K. Rich. O, true, good Catesby; - Bid him levy straight changing-woman!] Such was the real character of this queen dowager, who would have married her daughter to king Richard, and did all in her power to alienate the marquis of Dorset, her son, from the earl of Richmond. 7 Some light-foot friend, &c.] Richard's precipitation and confusion is in this scene very happily represented by inconsistent orders, and sudden variations of opinion. JoHNSON. The greatest strength and power he can make, Cate. I go. [Exit. Rat. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salis bury? 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? Stan. Richmond is on the seas. Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by 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? Is 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? Stan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess. Stan. No, mighty liege, therefore mistrust me not. VOL. VI. I Where be thy tenants, and thy followers? Stan. No, my good lord, my friends are in the north. north, When they should serve their sovereign in the west ? I'll muster up my friends; and meet your grace, K. Rich. Ay, ay, thou would'st be gone to join with I will not trust you, sir. Stan. Most mighty sovereign, K. Rich. Well, go, muster men. But, behind Your son, George Stanley; look your heart be firm, Stan. So deal with him, as I prove true to you. Enter a Messenger. [Exit STANLEY. 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 8 Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong. 8 more competitors -] That is, more opponents to us, or rather, associates with them. |