And prov'd the subject of mine own soul's curse: Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep, But with his timorous dreams was still awak'd. [To ANNE. Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee ! [To the Queen. 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. Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes, 100 [Exeunt. SCENE SCENE II. The Court. Flourish of Trumpets. Enter RICHARD, as King, BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, a Page, and others. K. Rich. Stand all apart.-Cousin of Buckingham Buck. My gracious sovereign. K. Rich. Give me thy hand. Thus high, by thy advice, And thy assistance, is king Richard seated :- Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them? 110 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, 120 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; K. Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes : Say, have I thy consent, that they shall die? Buck. Give me some breath, some little pause, dear lord, Before I positively speak in this : I will resolve your grace immediately. 130 [Exit BUCKINGHAM. Cates. The king is angry; see, hé gnaws his lip. K. Rich. 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 Would tempt unto a close exploit of death? Page. I know a discontented gentleman, 140 Whose humble means match not his haughty mind: 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-Tyrrel. K. Rich, I partly know the man; Go, call him hi ther, boy.. [Exit Boy. The |