Go, by this token. Rise, and lend thine ear: There is no more but so :-say, it is done, Re-enter BUCKINGHAM. [whispers. [Exit. 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. Richmond. Buck. I hear the news, my lord. Dorset is fled to 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 honor and your faith is pawn'd; 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 1 boy. A king!-perhaps— Foolish. 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? 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. K. Rich. Well, but what 's 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,1 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. 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 1 An automaton figure appended to clocks, which strikes the hour. With such contempt ? made I him king for this? To Brecknock,1 while my fearful head is on. [Exit. SCENE III. The same. Enter TYRREL. Tyr. The tyrannous and bloody act is done; The most arch deed of piteous massacre That ever yet this land was guilty of. Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs, Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, Which, in their summer beauty, kiss'd 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 stopp'd; Where his castle was situated. That, from the prime creation, e'er she framed.' Enter KING RICHARD. And here he comes. All health, my sovereign lord! 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? 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, do thee good, When thou shalt tell the process of their death. Tyr. I humbly take my leave. [Exit. K. Rich. The son of Clarence have I penn'd up close; His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage; The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom, And Anne my wife hath bid the world good night. |