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The Same. A Room of State in the Palace. | |
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Sennet. RICHARD, in pomp, crowned: BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, a Page, and Others. | |
| K. Rich. Stand all apart. Cousin of Buckingham. | |
| Buck. My gracious sovereign! | |
| K. Rich. Give me thy hand. [He ascends the throne.] Thus high, by thy advice, | 5 |
| And thy assistance, is King Richard seated: | |
| But shall we wear these glories for a day? | |
| Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them? | |
| Buck. Still live they, and for ever let them last! | |
| K. Rich. Ah! Buckingham, now do I play the touch, | 10 |
| To try if thou be current gold indeed: | |
| Young Edward lives: think now what I would speak. | |
| Buck. Say on, my loving lord. | |
| K. Rich. Why, Buckingham, I say, I would be king. | |
| Buck. Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned liege. | 15 |
| K. Rich. Ha! am I king? Tis so: but Edward lives. | |
| Buck. True, noble prince. | |
| K. Rich. O bitter consequence, | |
| That Edward still should live! True, noble prince! | |
| Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull: | 20 |
| Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead; | |
| And I would have it suddenly performd. | |
| What sayst thou now? speak suddenly, be brief. | |
| Buck. Your Grace may do your pleasure. | |
| K. Rich. Tut, tut! thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes: | 25 |
| Say, have I thy consent that they shall die? | |
| Buck. Give me some little breath, some pause, dear lord, | |
| Before I positively speak in this: | |
| I will resolve you herein presently. [Exit. | |
| Cate. [Aside to another.] The king is angry: see, he gnaws his lip. | 30 |
| K. Rich. [Descends from his throne.] I will converse with iron-witted fools | |
| And unrespective boys: none are for me | |
| That look into me with considerate eyes. | |
| High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect. | |
| Boy! | 35 |
| Page. My lord! | |
| K. Rich. Knowst thou not any whom corrupting gold | |
| Will tempt unto a close exploit of death? | |
| Page. I know a discontented gentleman, | |
| Whose humble means match not his haughty spirit: | 40 |
| Gold were as good as twenty orators, | |
| And will, no doubt, tempt him to anything. | |
| K. Rich. What is his name? | |
| Page. His name, my lord, is Tyrrell. | |
| K. Rich. I partly know the man: go, call him hither. [Exit Page. | 45 |
| The deep-revolving witty Buckingham | |
| No more shall be the neighbour to my counsel. | |
| Hath he so long held out with me untird, | |
| And stops he now for breath? well, be it so. | |
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Enter STANLEY. | 50 |
| How now, Lord Stanley! whats the news? | |
| Stan. Know, my loving lord, | |
| The Marquess Dorset, as I hear, is fled | |
| To Richmond, in the parts where he abides. | |
| K. Rich. Come hither, Catesby: rumour it abroad, | 55 |
| That Anne my wife is very grievous sick; | |
| I will take order for her keeping close. | |
| Inquire me out some mean poor gentleman, | |
| Whom I will marry straight to Clarence daughter: | |
| The boy is foolish, and I fear not him. | 60 |
| Look, how thou dreamst! I say again, give out | |
| That Anne my queen is sick, and like to die: | |
| About it; for it stands me much upon, | |
| To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me. [Exit CATESBY. | |
| I must be married to my brothers daughter, | 65 |
| Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass. | |
| Murder her brothers, and then marry her! | |
| Uncertain way of gain! But I am in | |
| So far in blood, that sin will pluck on sin: | |
| Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye. | 70 |
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Re-enter Page, with TYRRELL. | |
| Is thy name Tyrrell? | |
| Tyr. James Tyrrell, and your most obedient subject. | |
| K. Rich. Art thou, indeed? | |
| Tyr. Prove me, my gracious lord. | 75 |
| K. Rich. Darst thou resolve to kill a friend of mine? | |
| Tyr. Please you; but I had rather kill two enemies. | |
| K. Rich. Why, then thou hast it: two deep enemies, | |
| Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleeps disturbers, | |
| Are they that I would have thee deal upon. | 80 |
| Tyrrell, I mean those bastards in the Tower. | |
| Tyr. Let me have open means to come to them, | |
| And soon Ill rid you from the fear of them. | |
| K. Rich. Thou singst sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrell: | |
| Go, by this token: rise, and lend thine ear. [Whispers. | 85 |
| There is no more but so: say it is done, | |
| And I will love thee, and prefer thee for it. | |
| Tyr. I will dispatch it straight. [Exit. | |
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Re-enter BUCKINGHAM. | |
| Buck. My lord, I have considerd in my mind | 90 |
| The late demand that you did sound me in. | |
| K. Rich. Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to Richmond. | |
| Buck. I hear the news, my lord. | |
| K. Rich. Stanley, he is your wifes son: well, look to it. | |
| Buck. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise, | 95 |
| For which your honour and your faith is pawnd; | |
| The earldom of Hereford and the moveables | |
| Which you have promised I shall possess. | |
| K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife: if she convey | |
| Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it. | 100 |
| Buck. What says your highness to my just request? | |
| K. Rich. I do remember me, Henry the Sixth | |
| Did prophesy that Richmond should be king, | |
| When Richmond was a little peevish boy. | |
| A king! perhaps | 105 |
| Buck. My lord! | |
| K. Rich. How chance the prophet could not at that time | |
| Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him? | |
| Buck. My lord, your promise for the earldom, | |
| K. Rich. Richmond! When last I was at Exeter, | 110 |
| The mayor in courtesy showd me the castle, | |
| And calld it Rougemont: at which name I started, | |
| Because a bard of Ireland told me once | |
| I should not live long after I saw Richmond. | |
| Buck. My lord! | 115 |
| K. Rich. Ay, whats oclock? | |
| Buck. I am thus bold to put your Grace in mind | |
| Of what you promisd me. | |
| K. Rich. Well, but what is t oclock? | |
| Buck. Upon the stroke of ten. | 120 |
| K. Rich. Well, let it strike. | |
| Buck. Why let it strike? | |
| K. Rich. Because that, like a Jack, thou keepst the stroke | |
| Betwixt thy begging and my meditation. | |
| I am not in the giving vein to-day. | 125 |
| Buck. Why, then resolve me wher you will, or no. | |
| K. Rich. Thou troublest me: I am not in the vein. [Exeunt KING RICHARD and Train. | |
| Buck. And is it thus? repays he my deep service | |
| With such contempt? made I him king for this? | |
| O, let me think on Hastings, and be gone | 130 |
| To Brecknock, while my fearful head is on. [Exit. | |
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