Buck. I hear that 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 pawned; Th' earldom of Hereford and the moveables

The which you promiséd I should 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 demand?

K. Rich. As I remember, 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 showed me the castle,
And called 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 promised me.

Well, but what's o'clock i

K. Rich.
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 whether you will

or no.

vein.

K. Rich. Thou troublest me; I am not in the [Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM. Buck. Is it even so? rewards he my true 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.

SCENE III.-Another Room in the Palace.
Enter TYRREL.

Tyr. The tyrannous and bloody deed is done,—
The most arch act of piteous massacre
That ever yet this land was guilty of.
Dighton and Forrest, whom I did suborn
To do this ruthless piece of butchery,

Although they were fleshed villains, bloody dogs,
Melting with tenderness and kind compassion,
Wept like two children in their deaths' sad story.
'Lo thus,' quoth Dighton, 'lay those tender babes :'
'Thus, thus,' quoth Forrest, 'girdling one another
Within their innocent alabaster arms:

Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,
Which in their summer beauty kissed each other.
A book of prayers on their pillow lay;

Which once,' quoth Forrest, almost changed my mind;

But O! the devil'-there the villain stopped;
Whilst Dighton thus told on :-'We smotheréd
The most replenished sweet work of nature
That from the prime creation e'er she framed.'
Hence both are gone with conscience and remorse;
They could not speak; and so I left them both,
To bring this tidings to the bloody king :—
And here he comes.

Enter King RICHARD.

All health, my sovereign liege! K. Rich. Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in thy news? Tyr. If to have done the thing you gave in charge

Beget your happiness, be happy then,

For it is done.

K. Rich.

But didst thou see them dead?

Tyr. I did, my lord.

K. Rich.

And buried, gentle Tyrrel? Tyr. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them; But where, to say the truth, I do not know.

K. Rich. Come to me, Tyrrel, soon at after supper, When thou shalt tell the process of their death. Meantime, but think how I may do thee good, And be inheritor of thy desire.

Farewell till then.

[Exit TYRREL. The son of Clarence have I pent up close;

His daughter meanly have I matched in marriage;
The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom,
And Anne my wife hath bid the world good night.
Now, for I know the Breton Richmond aims
At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter,

And, by that knot, looks proudly on the crown,
To her I go, a jolly thriving wooer.

Enter CATESBY.

Cate. My lord,

K. Rich. Good news or bad, that thou com'st in so bluntly?

Cate. Bad news, my lord: Ely is fled to Rich

mond;

And Buckingham, backed with the hardy Welsh

men,

Is in the field, and still his power increaseth.

K. Rich. Ely with Richmond troubles me more

near

Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength.
Come,-I have learned that fearful commenting
Is leaden servitor to dull delay;

Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary:
Then fiery expedition be my wing,

Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king!

Come, muster men: my counsel is my shield;
We must be brief when traitors brave the field.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Before the Palace.

Enter Queen MARGARET.

Q. Mar. So, now prosperity begins to mellow And drop into the rotten mouth of death. Here in these confines slily have I lurked, To watch the waning of mine enemies. A dire induction am I witness to,

And will to France; hoping the consequence

Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.—

Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret: who comes here?

Enter Queen ELIZABETH and the Duchess of YORK. Q. Eliz. Ah, my young princes! ah, my tender babes!

My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets!
If yet your gentle souls fly in the air
And be not fixed in doom perpetual,
Hover about me with your airy wings
And hear your mother's lamentation!

Q. Mar. [Aside] Hover about her; say, that right for right

Hath dimmed your infant morn to agéd night. Duch. So many miseries have crazed my voice, That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute. Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?

Q. Mar. [Aside] Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet,

Edward for Edward pays a dying debt.

Q. Eliz. Wilt Thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs,

And throw them in the entrails of the wolf?
When didst Thou sleep, when such a deed was done?
Q. Mar. [Aside] When holy Harry died, and
my sweet son.

Duch. Blind sight, dead life, poor mortal living

ghost,

Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life

usurped,

Brief abstract and record of tedious days,

Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth,

[Sitting down