Tirrel. If to have done the thing you gave in charge, Beget your happiness, then, sir, be happy, for it is done. Glost. But didst thou see them dead? Tirrel. I did, my lord. Glost. And bury'd, my good Tirrel ? Tirrel. In that, I thought to ask your grace's plea sure. Glost. I have it-I'll have them sure-get me a coffin Full of holes--let them be both cramm'd into it; And hark thee, in the night tide, throw them down The Thames—once in, they'll find the way to the bot tom; Meantime, but think, how I may do thee good, And be inheritor of thy desire. Tirrel. I humbly thank your highness. Glost. About it, strait, good Tirrel. [Exit. Glost. Why, then my loudest fears are hush'd; The sons of Edward have eternal rest, And Anne, my wife, has bid this world good night; Enter CATESBY. Catesby. My lord Glost. Good news, or bad, that thou com'st in so bluntly? Catesby. Bad news, my lord; Morton is fled to Richmond, And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welshmen, Is in the field, and still his power increases. Glost. Morton with Richmond, touches me more near, Than Buckingham, and his rash levy'd numbers. But come, dangers retreat, when boldly they're confronted, And dull delays lead impotence and fear; Then fiery expedition raise my arm, And fatal may it fall on crush'd rebellion! SCENE V. A Court in the Tower. Enter QUEEN and DUCHESS OF YORK. Queen. Oh, my poor children!-Oh, my tender babes! My unblown flowers, pluck'd by untimely hands: Why slept their guardian angels, when this deed was done? Duch. of York. So many miseries have drain'd my eyes, That my woe-weary'd tongue is still and mute;- Queen. Let's give them scope; for though they can't remove, Yet, do they ease, affliction. Duch. of York. Why, then, let us be loud in exclamations, To Richard, haste, and pierce him with our cries: Enter GLOSTER and CATESBY, with Forces. Glost. Who interrupts me, in my expedition ? Glost. I cry your mercy, madam-is it you? Glost. Ay, I thank Heaven, my father, and yourself. Duch. of York. Then I command thee, hear me. Glost. Madam, I have a touch of your condition, That cannot brook the accent of reproof. Duch. of York. Stay, I'll be mild, and gentle, in my words. Glost. And brief, good mother, for I am in haste. Duch. of York. Why, I have staid for thee, (just Heav'n knows) In torment, and in agony. Glost. And came not I at last, to comfort you? Duch. of York. No, on my soul! too well thou know'st it, A grievous burden was thy birth to me, Techy, and wayward, was thy infancy; Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and stubborn; Let me march on, and not offend thee, madam; Without a tongue.-Methinks, the very sight Where are my children, Gloster ? Duch. of York. Where is thy brother, Clarence ? Queen. Where Hastings? Duch. of York. Rivers? Queen. Vaughan? Duch. of York. Grey? Glost. A flourish, trumpets; strike alarum, drums; Let not the Heav'ns hear these tell-tale women Rail on the Heav'ns anointed!-Strike, I say! [Alarm of Drums and Trumpets. Either be patient, and entreat me fair, Duch. of York. Then hear me, Heav'n! and Heav'n, at his latest hour, Be deaf to him, as he is now to me! Ere, from this war he turn a conqueror, Ye Powers, cut off his dangerous thread of life, Mischance, and sorrow, wait thee to the field! [Exit. Queen. Though far more cause, yet much less pow er to curse Abides in me, I say amen to her. Glost. Stay, madam, I would beg some words with you. Queen. What canst thou ask, that I have now to grant? Is't another son? Gloster, I have none. Glost. You have a beauteous daughter, call'd Elizabeth Queen. Must she die too? G Glost. For whose fair sake, I'll bring more good to you, Than ever you, or yours, had from me, harm: Thou'lt drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs, Queen. Be brief, lest, that the process of thy kind ness, Last longer telling, than thy kindness' date. Glost. Know, then, that, from my soul, I love the fair Elizabeth, and will, with your permission, Seat her on the throne of England. Queen. Alas, vain man! how canst thou woo her? Glost. That, I would learn of you, As one, being best acquainted with her humour. Queen. If thou wilt learn of me, then woo her thus: Send to her, by the man who kill'd her brothers, Queen. What shall I say?-Still to affront his love, [4side. |