"For making me fo young, fo old a widow!
"And when thou wed'ft, let forrow haunt thy bed;
"And be thy wife, if any be fo mad,
"More miferable by the life of thee,

"Than thou haft made me by my dear Lord's death!"
Lo, ere I can repeat this curfe again,
Within fo small a time, my woman's heart
Grofsly grew captive to his honey words,
And prov'd the subject of mine own foul's curse,
Which ever fince hath held mine eyes from reft.
For never yet one hour in his bed

Did I enjoy the golden dew of fleep,

"But with his tim'rous dreams was ftill awak'd. Befide, he hates me for my father Warwick; And will, no doubt, fhortly be rid of me.

Queen. Poor heart, adieu, I pity thy complaining. Anne. No more than with my foul I mourn for yours.

Dor. Farewel, thou woful welcomer of Glory! Anne. Adieu, poor foul, that tak'ft thy leave of it! Dutch. Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee! [To Dorfet. Go thou to Richard, and good Angels tend thee!

[To Anne.

Go thou to Sanctuary, good thoughts poffefs thee!
[To the Queen.
I to my grave, where peace and reft lie with me!
Eighty odd years of forrow have I seen,
And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen.
Queen. Stay; yet look back, with me, unto the

Tower.

Pity, you ancient ftones, thofe tender babes,
Whom envy hath immur'd within your walls!
Rough cradle for fuch little pretty ones!

• But with his tim'rous dreams.] 'Tis recorded by Polydore Virgil, that Richard was frequently dif

turbed by terrible dreams: this is therefore no fiction.

Rude

*Rude ragged nurfe! old fullen play fellow, For tender Princes; ufe my babies well!

So foolish forrow bids your ftones farewel, [Exeunt. †

SCENE II,

Changes to the Court.

Flourish of Trumpets. Enter Gloucester as King,
Buckingham, Cateíby.

K. Rich.

•STAN

TAND all apart-Coufin of Buckingham,-
Buck. My gracious Sovereign!

K. Rich. Give me thy hand. Thus high, by thy advice,
And thy affiftance, is King Richard feated.
But fhall we wear thefe glories for a day?
Or fhall they laft, and we rejoice in them?

Buck. Still live they, and for ever let them last! K. Rich. 7 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 fay, I would be King. Buck. Why, fo you are, my thrice-renowned Liege. K. Rich. Ha! am I King? 'tis fo—but Edward lives

Buck. True, noble Prince.

K. Rich. O bitter confequence!

That Edward still fhould live-true, noble Prince?
Coufin, thou wert not wont to be fo dull.
-Shall I be plain? I wish the baftards dead;

To call the Tower nurse and playfellow is very harth: perhaps part of this fpeech is addreffed to the Tower, and part to the Lieutenant.

Hither the third at fhould be extended, and here it very properly ends with a pause of action.

The poet wrote,

-now do I ply the touch. i. e. apply the touchstone: for that is meant by what he calls touch. So, again, in Timon of Athens, fpeaking of Gold, he fays;

-O, theu touch of hearts! 1 Ab! Buckingham, now do i. e. thou trial, touchitone. I play the Touch.] The

technical term is requifite here,

WARBURTON.

And

And I would have it fuddenly perform'd.
What fay'st thou now? fpeak fuddenly, be brief.
Buck. Your Grace may do your pleasure.

K. Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes :

Say, have I thy confent that they shall die?

Buck. Give me fome breath, fome little paufe, dear Lord,

Before I pofitively speak in this;

I will refolve your Grace immediately.

[Exit Buck. Catef. The King is angry; fee, he gnaws his lip. K. Rich. I will converfe with iron-witted fools, And unrespective boys; none are for me, That look into me with confid❜rate eyes. High-reaching Buckingham grows circumfpect. Boy,

Page. My Lord.

K. Rich. Know'st thou not any, whom corrupting gold Would tempt unto a clofe exploit of death? Page. I know a difcontented Gentleman,

Whofe humble means match not his haughty fpirit; Gold were as good as twenty orators,

And will, no doubt, tempt him to any thing.

K. Rich. What is his name?

Page. His name, my Lord, is Tirrel.

K. Rich. I partly know the man; go call him hi

ther.

-The deep-revolving witty Buckingham

[Exit Boy.

No more fhall be the neighbour to my counfels.
Hath he fo long held out with me untir'd,

And stops he now for breath?-well, be it fo.

Enter Stanley.

How now, Lord Stanley, what's the news?

Stanl. My Lord,

The Marquis Dorfet, as I hear, is fled

To Richmond, in the parts where he abides.

Clofe exploit, is fecret act.

K. Rich.

K. Rich. Come hither, Catesby; rumour is abroad, That Anne my wife is fick, and like to die. I will take order for her keeping close. Inquire me out fome mean-born gentleman, Whom I will marry ftrait to Clarence' daughter.The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.

Look, how thou dream'ft-I fay again, give out,
That Anne my Queen is fick, and like to die.
About it; for it ftands me much upon

To stop all hopes, whofe growth may damage me.
[Exit Catesby.
I must be married to my brother's daughter,
Or elfe my kingdom ftands on brittle glafs.
Murder her brothers, and then marry her!
Uncertain way of gain! but I am in
So far in blood, that fin will pluck on fin.

Enter Tirrel.

Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
Is thy name Tirrel?

Tir. James Tirrel, and your most obedient subject.
K. Rich. Art thou, indeed? [He takes him afide.
Tir. Prove me, my gracious Lord. [He kneels:
K. Rich. Dar'ft thou refolve to kill a friend of
mine?

Tir. Please you, I'd rather kill two enemies.

K. Rich. Why, then thou haft it; two deep enemies, Foes to my reft, and my sweet fleep's disturbers, Are they, that I would have thee deal upon; Tirrel, I mean thofe baftards in the Tower.

Tir. Let me have open means to come to them, And foon I'll rid you from the fear of them.

K. Rich. Thou fing'ft fweet mufick. Hark, come hither, Tirrel

Go, by this token-rife, and lend thine ear

There is no more but fo-fay, it is done,

[Whispers.

And

And I will love thee and prefer thee for it.
Tir. I will dispatch it strait.

Re-enter Buckingham.

[Exit.

Buck. My Lord, I have confider'd in my mind That late demand, that you did found me in.

K. Rich. Well, let that reft. Dorfet is fled to Richmond.

Buck. I hear the news, my Lord.

K. Rich. Stanley, he is your wife's fon. Well, look to it.

Buck. My Lord, I claim the gift, my due by promife,

For which your honour, and your faith is pawn'd; Th'Earldom of Hereford, and the moveables, Which you have promised I fhall poffefs.

K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife; if fhe convey Letters to Richmond, you fhall answer it.

Buck. What fays your Highness to my juft requeft? K. Rich. I do remember me-Henry the fixth Did prophefy, 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 promife for the Earldom-
K. Rich. Richmond? when I was laft at Exeter,
The Mayor in curtefy fhewed me the castle,
And call'd it Rouge-mont, at which name I started;
Because a bard of Ireland told me once,

8 A King, perhaps] From hence to the words, Thou troubleft me, I am not in the vein have been left out ever fince the first editions, but I like them well

enough to replace them. POPE.

The allufions to the plays of Henry VI. are no weak proofs of the authenticity of thefe difputed pieces.

I