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As well we know your tenderness of heart,
And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse',
Which we have noted in you to your kindred,
And equally, indeed, to all estates,—
Yet know, whe'r you accept our suit or no,
Your brother's son shall never reign our king;
But we will plant some other in your throne,
To the disgrace and downfal of your house.
And, in this resolution, here we leave you ;-
Come, citizens, we will entreat no more.

[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM, and Citizens. Cate. Call them again, sweet prince, accept their suit; If you deny them, all the land will rue it.

Glo. Will you enforce me to a world of cares? Well, call them again; I am not made of stone, But penetrable to your kind entreaties, [Exit CATESBY. Albeit against my conscience and my soul.—

Re-enter BUCKINGHAM, and the rest.

Cousin of Buckingham,—and sage †, grave men,—
Since you will buckle fortune on my back,
To bear her burden, whe'r I will, or no,
I must have patience to endure the load:
But if black scandal, or foul-fac'd reproach,
Attend the sequel of your imposition,
Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me
From all the impure blots and stains thereof;
For God he knows, and you may partly see,
How far I am from the desire of this.

May. God bless your grace! we see it, and will say it.
Glo. In saying so, you shall but say the truth.
Buck. Then I salute you with this royal title,
Long live king Richard, England's worthy king!
All. Amen.

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Buck. To-morrow may it please you to be crown'd? Glo. Even when you please, since you will have it so. Buck. To-morrow then we will attend your grace; And so, most joyfully, we take our leave.

Glo. Come, let us to our holy work again :

[To the Bishops.

Farewell, good cousin ;-farewell, gentle friends.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I-Before the Tower.

Enter, on one side, Queen ELIZABETH, Duchess of YORK, and Marquis of DORSET; on the other, ANNE, Duchess of GLOSTER, leading Lady MARGARET PLANTAGEnet, Clarence's young daughter.

Duch. Who meets us here ?-my niece Plantagenet Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloster? Now, for my life, she's wand'ring to the Tower, On pure heart's love, to greet the tender prince.Daughter, well met.

Anne.

God give your graces both A happy and a joyful time of day!

Q. Eliz. As much to you, good sister! Whither away? Anne. No further than the Tower; and, as I guess, Upon the like devotion as yourselves,

To gratulate the gentle princes there.

Q. Eliz. Kind sister, thanks; we'll enter all together:

Enter BRAKENBURY.

-

And, in good time, here the lieutenant comes.
Master lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,
How doth the prince, and my young son of York?

Brak. Right well, dear madam: By your patience,

I may not suffer you to visit them;

The king hath strictly charg'd the contrary.
Q. Eliz. The king! who's that?

Brak.

I mean, the lord protector. Q. Eliz. The Lord protect him from that kingly title! Hath he set bounds between their love, and me? I am their mother, who shall bar me from them?

Duch. I am their father's mother, I will see them. Anne. Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother: Then bring me to their sights; I'll bear thy blame, And take thy office from thee, on my peril.

Brak. No, madam, no, I may not leave it so ; I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.

Enter STANLEY.

[Exit BRAKENBURY.

Stan. Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence, And I'll salute your grace of York as mother,

And reverend looker-on of two fair queens.

Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster, [To the Duchess of GLOSTER. There to be crowned Richard's royal queen.

Q. Eliz. Ah, cut my lace asunder!

That my pent heart may have some' scope to beat,
Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news.

Anne. Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news!
Dor. Be of good cheer:-Mother, how fares your
grace?

Q. Eliz. O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee gone, Death and destruction dog thee at the heels; Thy mother's name is ominous to children: If thou wilt outstrip death, go cross the seas, And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell. Go, hie thee, hie thee, from this slaughter house, Lest thou increase the number of the dead; And make me die the thrall of Margaret's curse,— Nor mother, wife, nor England's counted queen.

Stan. Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam :Take all the swift advantage of the hours;

You shall have letters from me to my son
In your behalf, to meet you on the way:
Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.

Duch. O ill-dispersing wind of misery!-
O my accursed womb, the bed of death;
A cockatrice hast thou hatch'd to the world,
Whose unavoided eye is murderous!

Stan. Come, madam, come; I in all haste was sent.
Anne. And I with all unwillingness will go.-
O, would to God, that the inclusive verge
Of golden metal, that must round my brow,
Were red-hot steel, to sear me to the brain'!
Anointed let me be with deadly venom;

And die, ere men can say-God save the queen!
Q. Eliz. Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory;
To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm.

Anne. No! why ?-When he, that is my husband

now,

Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse;

When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his hands,
Which issu'd from my other angel husband,

And that dead saint which then I weeping follow'd;
O, when, I say, I look'd on Richard's face,
This was my wish,-Be thou, quoth I, accurs'd,
For making me, so young, so old a widow!

And, when thou wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;
And be thy wife (if any be so mad)
More miserable by the life of thee,

Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death!
Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,

Even in so short a space, my woman's heart

3 Were red-hot steel, to sear me to the brain!] She seems to allude to the ancient mode of punishing a regicide, or any other egregious criminal, viz. by placing a crown of iron, heated redhot, upon his head.

Grossly grew captive to his honey words,

And prov'd the subject of mine own soul's curse:
Which ever since hath held mine eyes from rest;
For never yet one hour in his bed

Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep,

4

But with his timorous dreams was still awak'd.
Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick;
And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.

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Q. Eliz. Poor heart, adieu; I pity thy complaining.
Anne. No more than with my soul I mourn for 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 '.

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.

4 But with his timorous dreams-] 'Tis recorded by Polydore Vergil, that Richard was frequently disturbed by terrible dreams: this is therefore no fiction. JOHNSON.

And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen.] Teen is

sorrow.

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