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Q. Eliz. O, no, my reasons are too deep and dead;— Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. K. Rich. Harp not on that string, madam ; that is

past. Q. Eliz. Harp on it still shall I, till heart-strings

break. K. Rich. Now, by my George, my garter, and my

crown, Q. Eliz. Profan’d, dishonour'd, and the third usurp'd.

. K. Rich. I swear.

Q. Eliz. By nothing; for this is no oath.
Thy George, profan'd, hath lost his holy honour;
Thy garter, blemish’d, pawn'd his knightly virtue;
Thy crown, usurp’d, disgrac'd his kingly glory:
If something thou would'st swear to be believ'd,
Swear then by something, that thou hast not wrong'd.

K. Rich. Now by the world, -
Q. Eliz. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs.
K. Rich. My father's death,--
Q. Eliz. Thy life hath that dishonour'd.
K. Rich. Then, by myself,-
Q. Eliz. Thyself is self-misus’d.
K. Rich. Why then, by God,

Q. Eliz. God's wrong is most of all.
If thou had'st fear'd to break an oath by him,
The unity, the king thy brother made,
Had not been broken, nor my brother slain.
If thou had'st fear’d to break an oath by him,
The imperial metal, circling now thy head,
Had grac'd the tender temples of my child;
And both the princes had been breathing here,
Which now, two tender bed-fellows for dust,

Thy broken faith bath made a prey

for worms. What canst thou swear by now?

K. Rich. By the time to come.
Q. Eliz. That thou hast wronged in the time o'er-

past;
For I myself have many tears to wash
Hereafter time, for time past, wrong'd by thee.
The children live, whose parents thou hast slaughter'd,
Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age:
The parents live, whose children thou hast butcher'd,
Old barren plants, to wail it with their age.
Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast
Misus'd ere used, by times ill-us’d o'er past.

K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and repent!
So thrive I in my dangerous attempt
Of hostile arms! myself myself confound!
Heaven, and fortune, bar me happy hours !
Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy rest!
Be opposite all planets of good luck
To my proceeding, if, with pure heart's love,
Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,
I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter !
In her consists my happiness, and thine;
Without her, follows to myself, and thee,
Herself, the land, and many a christian soul,
Death, desolation, ruin, and decay:
It cannot be avoided, but by this;
It will not be avoided, but by this.
Therefore, dear mother, (I must call you so,)
Be the attorney of my love to her.
Plead what I will be, not what I have been;
Not my deserts, but what I will deserve:

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Enter King Richard, and his Train, marching. K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedition?

Duch. V, she, that might have intercepted thee, By strangling thee in her accursed womb, From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done. Q. Eliz. Hid'st thou that forehead with a golden

crown,
Where should be branded, if that right were right,
The slaughter of the prince that ow'd that crown,
And the dire death of my poor sons and brothers ?
Tell me, thou villain-slave, where are my children?
Duch. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother

Clarence ?
And little Ned Plantagenet, his son ?

Q. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Grey?
Duch. Where is kind Hastings?

K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets !--strike alarum, drums! Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women Rail on the Lord's anointed : Strike, I say.

[Flourish. Alarums.
Either be patient, and entreat me fair,
Or with the clamorous report of war
Thus will I drown your exclamations.

Duch. Art thou my son ?
K. Rich. Ay; I thank God, my father, and yourself.
Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience.

K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your condition, That cannot brook the accent of reproof.

Duch. O, let me speak.
K. Rich. Do, then; but I'll not hear.
Duch. I will be mild and gentle in my words.

K. Rich. And brief, good mother; for I am in haste.

Duch. Art thou so hasty? I have staid for thee, God knows, in torment and in agony.

K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you?

Duch. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well,
Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell.
A grievous burden was thy birth to me;
Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;
Thy school-days, frightful, desperate, wild, and furious;
Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and venturous;
Thy age confirm’d, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody,
More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred :
What comfortable hour canst thou name,
That ever grac'd me in thy company?
K. Rich. ?Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that

call'd your grace
To breakfast once, forth of my company.
If I be so disgracious in your sight,
Let me march on, and not offend you, madam.---
Strike up the drum.

Duch. I pry'thee, hear me speak.
K. Rich. You speak too bitterly.

Duch. Hear me a word;
For I shall never speak to thee again.

K. Rich. So.

Duch. Either thou wilt die by God's just ordinance, Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror; Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish, And never look upon thy face again. Therefore, take with thee my most heavy curse; Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more, Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st ! My prayers on the adverse party fight;

K. Rich. There let him sink, and be the seas on him ! White liver'd runagate, what doth he there?

Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.
K. Rich. Well, as you guess ?
Stan. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Mor-

ton,
He makes for England, here to claim the crown.

K. Rich. Is the chair empty ? is the sword unsway'd ? Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd? What heir of York is there alive, but we? And who is England's king, but great York's heir ? Then, tell me, what makes he upon the seas?

Stan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.

K. Rich. Unless for that he comes to be your liege, You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes. Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear.

Stan. No, mighty liege; therefore mistrust me not.

K. Rich. Where is thy power then, to beat him back ? Where be thy tenants, and thy followers ? Are they not now upon the western shore, Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships ?

Stan. No, my good lord, my friends are in the north. K. Rich. Cold friends to me: What do they in the

north, When they should serve their sovereign in the west ?

Stan. They have not been commanded, mighty king: Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave, I'll muster up my friends; and meet your grace, Where, and what time, your majesty shall please. K. Rich. Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with

Richmond:. I will not trust you, sir.

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