The Same. A Room of State in the Palace. |
|
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, |
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, |
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. |
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: |
Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead; |
And I would have it suddenly perform'd. |
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: |
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. |
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! |
Page. My lord! |
K. Rich. Know'st 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: |
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. |
The deep-revolving witty Buckingham |
No more shall be the neighbour to my counsel. |
Hath he so long held out with me untir'd, |
And stops he now for breath? well, be it so. |
|
Enter STANLEY. |
How now, Lord Stanley! what's 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, |
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. |
Look, how thou dream'st! 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 brother's daughter, |
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. |
|
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. |
K. Rich. Dar'st 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 sleep's disturbers, |
Are they that I would have thee deal upon. |
Tyrrell, I mean those bastards in the Tower. |
Tyr. Let me have open means to come to them, |
And soon I'll rid you from the fear of them. |
K. Rich. Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrell: |
Go, by this token: rise, and lend thine ear. [Whispers. |
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. |
|
Re-enter BUCKINGHAM. |
Buck. My lord, I have consider'd in my mind |
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 wife's son: well, look to it. |
Buck. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise, |
For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd; |
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. |
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— |
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, |
The mayor in courtesy show'd me the castle, |
And call'd 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! |
K. Rich. Ay, what's o'clock? |
Buck. I am thus bold to put your Grace in mind |
Of what you promis'd me. |
K. Rich. Well, but what is't o'clock? |
Buck. Upon the stroke of ten. |
K. Rich. Well, let it strike. |
Buck. Why let it strike? |
K. Rich. Because that, like a Jack, thou keep'st the stroke |
Betwixt thy begging and my meditation. |
I am not in the giving vein to-day. |
Buck. Why, then resolve me whe'r 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 |
To Brecknock, while my fearful head is on. [Exit. |
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