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By her, in his unlawful bed, he got
This Edward, whom our manners call-the prince.
More bitterly could I expostulate,
Save that, for reverence to some alive,'
I give a sparing limit to my tongue.
Then, good my lord, take to your royal self
This proffer'd benefit of dignity:

If not to bless us and the land withal,
Yet to draw forth your nobie ancestry
From the corruption of abusing time,
Unto a lineal true-derived course.

May. Do, good my lord; your citizens entreat you.
Buck. Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer'd love.j
Cute. O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit.
Glo. A as, why would you heap those cares on me?
I am unfit for state and majesty:-
I do beseech you, take it not amiss;
I cannot, nor I will not, yield to you.

Buck. If you refuse it,—as in love and zeal,
Loath to depose the child, your brother's son;
As well we know your tenderness of heart,
And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,2
Which we have noted in you to your kindred,
And equally, indeed, to all estates,-
Yet know, whe'r you accept our suit or no,
Your brother's son shall never reign our king;
But we will plant some o her in your throne;
To the disgrace and downfall of your house,
And, in this resolution, here we leave you ;
Come, citizens, we will entreat no more.

[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Citizens. Cate, Call them again, sweet prince, accept their suit;

If you deny them, all the land will rue it.

Glo. Will you enforce me to a world of cares? Weil, call them again; I am not made of stone, But penetrable to your kind entreaties,

[Exit CATESBY. Albeit against my conscience and my soul.

Re-enter BUCKINGHAM and the rest.

Cousin of Buckingham,—and vou sage, grave men,—
Since you will buckle fortune on my back,
To hear her burden, whe'r I will, or no,
I must have patience to endure the load:
But if black scandal, or foul-fae'd reproach,
Attend the sequel of your imposition,
Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me
From all the impure blots and stains thereof;
For God he knows, and you may partly see,
How far I am from the desire of this.

May. God bless your grace! we see it, and will
say it.

Glo. In saying so, you shall but say the truth. Buck. Then I salute you with this roval title,Long live King Richard, England's worthy king! All. Amen.

Buck. To-morrow may it please you to be crown'd?

Glo. Even when you please, since you will have

it so.

Buck. To-morrow then we will attend your grace; And so, most joyfully, we take our leave.

Glo. Come, let us to our holy work again.[To the Bishops. Farewell, good cousin ;-farewell, gentle friends. [Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Before the Tower. Enter on one side, QUEEN ELIZABETH, DUCHESS of YORK, and MARQUIS of DORSET; on the other, rying two virgins successively, or once marrying a widow. This is from Sir T. More, as copied by Hall and Holinshed.

1 The duke here hints at the pretended bastardy of Edward and Clarence. By 'some alive' is meant the duchess of York. the mother of Edward and Richard. This is very closely copied from Sir Thomas More. 2 Pity.

3 To this act should probably be added the next scene, so will the coronation pass between the acts; and

ACT IV.

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Upon the like devotion as yourselves,
To gratulate the gentle princes there.

Q. Eliz. Kind sister, thanks; we'll enter all to-
gether:

Enter BRAKENBURY.

And, in good time, here the lieutenant comes, —
Master lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,
How doth the prince, and my young son of York?
Bruk. Right well, dear madam: By your pati-

ence,

I may not suffer you to visit them,
The king hath strictly charg'd the contrary,
Q. Eliz. The king! who's that?
Brak.
Q. Eliz. The Lord protect him from that kiugly

title!

I mean, the lord protector.

Ha h he set bounds between their love and me?
I am their mother, who shall bar me from them?
Duch. I am their father's mother, I will see them.
Anne. Their aunt I am in law, in love their mo-

ther:

Then bring me to their sights; I'll bear thy blame,
And take thy office from thee, on my peril.

Brak. No, madam, no, I may not leave it so ;'
I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.
[Exit BRAKENBURY

Enter STANLEY.

Stan. Let me but meet you, ladies, one hou

hence,

And I'll salute your grace of York as mother,
And reveren looker-on of two fair
queens.-
Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster.
[To the DUCHESS of GLOSTER.
There to be crowned Richard's royal queen.
Q. Eliz. Ah, cut my lace asunder!
That my pent heart may have some scope to beat,
Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news.

Anne. Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news!
Dor. Be of good cheer:-Mother, how fares your

grace?

Q. Eliz. O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee

gone,
Death and destruction dog thee at the heels;
Thy mother's name is ominous to children:
If thou wilt outstrip death, go cross the seas,
And live with Richmond from the reach of hell.
Go, hie thee, hie thee, from this slaughter-house,
Lest thou increase the number of the dead;
And make me die the thrall of Margaret's curse,-
Nor mother, wife, nor England's counted queen.
Stan. Full of wise care is this your counsel, ma-
dam:-

Take all the swift advantage of the hours;
You shall have letters from me to my son
In your behalf, to meet you on the way:
Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.

Duch. O ill-dispersing wind of misery!-
here will not only be a proper interval of action, but the
conclusion will be more forcible.-Johnso 1.

4 We have not seen this lady since the second scene of the first act, in which she promised to meet Richard at Crosby Place. She was married to him about the year 1472.

5 i. e. grand-daughter. The words grandson or grand-daughter never occur in Shakspeare

6 This was the phraseology of Shakspeare's time. 7 i, e. 'I may not so resign my office.

O my accursed womb, the bed of death;
A cockatrice hast thou hatch'd to the world,
Whose unavoided eye is murderous!

Stan. Come, madam, come; I in all haste was

sent.

Anne. And I with all unwillingness will go.-
O, would to God, that the inclusive verge
Of golden metal, that must round my brow,
Were red-hot steel, to sear2 me to the brain!
Anointed let me be with deadly venom;
And die, ere men can say-God save the queen!
Q. Eliz. Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory;
To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm.
Anne. No! why?-When he, that is
now,

iny husband
Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse;
When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his.
hands,

Which issu'd from my other angel husband,
And that dead saint which then I weeping follow'd ;
O, when, I say, I look'd on Richard's face,
This was my wish,-Be thou, quoth I, accurs'd,
For making me, so young, so old a widow!
And, when thou wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;
And be thy wife (if any be so mad,)
More miserable by the life of thee,

Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death!
Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,
Even in so short a space, my woman's heart
Grossly grew captive to his honey words,

And prov'd the subject of mine own soul's curse:
Which ever since hath held mine eyes from rest;
For never yet one hour in his bed

Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep,

But with his timorous dreams was still awak'd.
Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick;
And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.

Q. Eliz. Poor heart, adieu; I pity thy complain-
ing.

Anne. No more than with my soul I mourn for

yours.

Dor. Farewell, thou woful welcomer of glory! Anne. Adieu, poor soul, that tak'st thy leave of it!

Duch. Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune
guide thee!
[To DORSET.
Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee!
[To ANNE.
Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess
thee!
[To Q. ELIZABETH.
I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with ine!
Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen,
And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen.'
Q. Elz. Stay yet; look back, with me, unto the
Tower.-

Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes,
Whom envy hath immur'd within your walls!
Rough cradle for such little pretty ones!
Rude ragged nurse! old sullen playfellow
For tender princes, use my babies well!
So foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Room of State in the Palace. Flou rish of Trumpets. RICHARD, as King upon his throne; BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, a Page, and

others.

Buck. My gracious sovereign.

K. Rich. Give ine thy hand. Thus high, by thy
advice,

And thy assistance, is King Richard seated :-
But shall we wear these glories for a day?
Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?

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,
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;
And I would have it suddenly perform'd.
What say'st thou now? speak suddenly, be brief.
Buck. Your grace may do your pleasure.

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.

[Exit BUCKINGHAM.
Cate. The king is angry; see, he gnaws his lip."
[Aside.
K. Rich. I will converse with iron-witted fools,
Descends from his Throne.
And unrespective boys: none are for me,
That look into me with considerate eyes ;-
High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect.-
Bov,

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,
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
hither, boy.-
[Exit Page.

The deep-revolving witty1o Buckingham
No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels
Hath he so long held out with me untir'd,
And stops he now for breath?-well, be it so.-
Enter STANLEY.

Stan.

How now, lord Stanley? what's the news?
The marquis Dorset, as I hear, is fled
Know, my loving lord.
To Richmond, in the parts where he abides.
K. Rich. Come hither, Catesby: rumour it abroad,
That Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick;

K. Rich. Stand all apart.-Cousin of Bucking- I will take order for her keeping close.
ham,-

1 A serpent supposed to originate from a cock's egg, 2 She seems to allude to the ancient mode of punishing a regicide, or other criminals, by placing a crown of iron heated red hot upon his head.

3 It is recorded by Polydore Virgil that Richard was frequently disturbed by terrible dreams. The veracity of that historian has been called in doubt; but Shak speare followed the popular histories.

4 Shakspeare seems here to have spoken at random. The present scene is in 1483. Richard duke of York, the husband of this lady, had he been then living, would have been but serenty-three years old, and we may reasonably suppose she was not older: nor did she go speedily to her grave; she lived tiil 1495.

Inquire me out some mean-born gentleman,
Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' daughter:

5 Sorrow.

6 To play the touch' is to resemble the touchstone. 7 Several of our ancient historians observe that tins was an accustomed action of Richard's, whether he was pensive or angry.

8 Unrespective, i. e. devoid of cautious and pruden. tial consideration, inconsiderate, unregardful. 9 Secret act.

10 Witty was not at this time employed to signify a man of fancy, but was used for sagacity, wisdom, or judgment; or, as Baret defines it, having the senses sharp, perceiving or foreseeing quicklie.' 11 i. e. take measures,

The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.-
Look, how thou dream'st!—I say again, give out,
That Anne my queen is sick, and like to die :
About it: for it stands me much upon,2
To stop all hopes, whose growth may damage me.
[Exit CATESBY.
I must be married to my brother's daughter,
Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass :-
Murder her brothers, and then marry her!
Uncertain way of gain! But I am in
Se far in blood, that sin will pluck on sin.3
Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.—

Re-enter Page, with TYRREL.

Is thy name-Tyrrel?

Tyr. James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject.

K. Rich. Art thou, indeed?
Tyr.

Prove me, my gracious lord. K. Rich. Dar'st thou resolve to kill a friend of mine?

Tyr. Please you; but I had rather kill two ene

mies.

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mise,

For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd;
The earldom of Hereford, and the moveables,"
Which you have promised I shall possess.
K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife; if she convey
Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.

Shakspeare has here perhaps anticipated the folly of this youth. He was at this time, I believe, about ten years old, and we are not told by any historian that he al then exhibited any symptoms of folly. Being co fined by King Henry VII. immediately after the battle of "Bosworth, and his education being entirely neglected. he is described by Polydore Virgil, at the time of his death, in 1499, as an idiot; and his account, which is copied by Holished, was certainly a sufficient autho rity for Shakspeare's representation.

2 i. e. it is incumbent upon me.

3

I am in blood

Step'd in so far, that should I wade no more
Returning were as tedious,' &c.
Macbeth.

4The best part of our chronicles, in all men's opinions, is that of Richard III. written as I have heard by Moorton, but as most suppose by Sir Thomas More sometime lord chancellor of England, where it is aid how the king was devising with Tyrril to have his ne phews privily murdered; and it is ad led. he was then sitting on a draught; a fit carpet for such a counsel.' Sir James Tyrrel was executed for treason in the begin. ning of King Henry VII.

5 We should now say 'deal rith. but the other was the phraseology of Shakspeare's time.

6 The quarto has the following very characteristic

line:

King, Shall we hear from thee, Tirril, ere we sleep?" 7 King Henry IV. married one of the daughters and coheirs of Humphrey Bohun, earl of Hereford; and the other was married to Thomas duke of Gloster. fifth son of King Edward III., who was created earl of Hereford,

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I am thus bold To put your grace in mind of what you promis'd me. K. Rich. Well, but what is't o'clock? Buck.

Of ten.

K. Rich. Well, let it strike. Buck.

Upon the stroke

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 whe'r 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
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. 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.
Dighton, and Forrest, whom I did suborn
To do this, iece of ruthless butchery,
Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs,
Wept like two children, in their death's sad story.
Melting with tenderness and mild compassion,

O thus, quoth Dighton, lay the gentle babes,—
Thus, thus, quoth Forres', girdling one another
Within their alabaster innocent arms:
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,

in 1386, by King Richard II.; his only daughter Anne having married Edmund earl of Stafford. The duke of and Aune,) had some pretensions to claim a new grant Buckingham, (who was the grandson of this Edmund of the title, but he had not a shadow of right to the moiety of the estate, which, if it devolved to King Ed. ward IV. with the crown, was now the property of his children, or otherwise belonged to the right heirs of King Henry IV. Many of our historians, however. ascribe the breach between him and Richard, to Richard's refusing to restore him the moiety the Hereford estate; and Shakspeare has followed them.

8 The duke of Gloster, according to the former play, was not by when King Henry uttered the prophecy, but the poet does not often trouble himself about such mi ante points of accuracy.

9 Hooker, who wrote in Queen Elizabeth's time, in his description of Exeter, mentions this as a very old and antient castle, named Rugemont; that is to say, Red Hill. taking the name of the red soil or earth whereupon it is situated. It was first built, he adds, as some think, by Julius Caesar, but rather, and in truth. the Romans after him.

10 This alludes to the juck of the clock house, men. tioned before in King Richard II. Act v. Sc. 5. It was a figure made in old public clocks to strike the bell on the outside; of the same kind as those still preserved at St Dunstan's church in Fleet Street. Richard compare Buckingham to one of the automatons, and bids him not to suspend the stroke on the clock bell, but strike, that the noise may be past, and himself at liberty to pursue his meditations. Jack was a term of contempt occurring before in this play.

11 His castle in Wales

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SCENE IV. The same. Before the Palace. ter QUEEN MARGARET.

Q. Mar. So, now prosperity begins to mellow, And drop into the rotten mouth of death.4 Here in these confines slily have I lurk'd, To watch the waning of mine enemies.

1 He thus denominates Richmond, because after the battle of Tewksbury he had taken refuge in the court of Francis II. duke of Bretagne, where by the procurement of Edward IV. he was kept a long time in honourable custody.

2 Bishop of Ely.

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 poor princes! ah, my tender babes!

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

Q. Mar. Hover about her; say, that right fo: rights

Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night.

Duch. So many miseries have craz'd my voice, That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute,Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?

Q. Mar. 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. When holy Harry died, and my sweet

son.

Duch. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal-living Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life ghost, usurp'd,

Brief abstract and record of tedious days,
Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth,
[Sitting down.
Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood!
Q. Eliz. Ah, that thou would'st as soon afford a
grave,

As thou canst yield a melancholy seat;
Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here!
Ah, who hath any cause to mourn, but we?

[Sitting down by her.
Q. Mar. If ancient sorrow be most reverent,
Give mine the benefit of seniory,
And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.
If sorrow can admit society,

"Sitting down with them. Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine :I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him; I had a husband, till a Richard kill'd him: Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him: Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard kill'd him. Duch. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill

him;

I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him.
Q. Mar. Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard
kill'd him;

From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept
A hell hound, that doth hunt us all to death
To worry lambs, and lap their gentle blood;
That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes,
That foul defacer of God's handy work;
That excellent grand tyrant of the earth,
That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls,
Thy womb let loose, to chase us to our graves.-
O upright, just, and true disposing God,
How do I thank thee, that this carnal" cur

proached with the murder of young Rutland, and the death of her husband and son were imputed to divine vengeance roused by that wicked act. So just is God to right the innocent. Margaret now, perhaps, means

3 Timorous thought and cautious disquisition are the to say, The right of me, an injured mother, whose son

dull attendants on delay.

4

now is his fate grown mellow,

Instant to fall into the rotten jaws
Of chap-fall'n death.'

Marston's Antonio und Mellida, 1602. King Richard III. was printed in 1597, Marston is therefore the imitator.

5 Induction is preface, introduction, or prologue.

was slain at Tewksbury, has now operated as powerfully as that right which the death of Rutland gave you to divine justice, and has destroyed your children in their turn.'

7 Seniority.

8 Vide Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 2:

'Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts." Its apparent signification is cruel, sanguinary, fleshly.

6 In the third scene of the first act Margaret was re- I minded.

P

Freys on the issue of his mother's body,
And makes her pew-fellow' with others' moan!
Duch. O, Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes;
God witness with me, I have wept for thine.

Q. Mar. Bear with me, I am hungry for revenge,
And now I cloy me with beholding it.
Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward;
Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward;
Young York he is but boot, because both they
Match not the high perfection of my loss.
Thy Clarence he is dead, that stabb'd my Edward;
And the beholders of this tragic play,

2

The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey,
Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves.
Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer;
Only reserv'd their factor, to buy souls,
And send them thither: But at hand, at hand,
Ensues his piteous and unpitied end:
Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray,
To have him suddenly convey'd from hence:-
Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray,
That I may live to say, The dog is dead!

Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophesy, the time would

come,

That I should wish for thee to help me curse
That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad.
Q. Mar. I call'd thee then, vain flourish of my
fortune;

I call'd thee then, poor shadow, painted queen;
The presentation of but what I was,
The flattering index of a direful pageant,
One heav'd a high, to be hurl'd down below:
A mother only mock'd with two fair babes;
A dream of what thou wast; a garish' flag,
To be the aim of every dangerous shot;
A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble;
A queen in jest, only to fill the scene.
Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers?
Where be thy two sons? wherein dost thou joy?
Who sues, and kneels, and says-God save the
queen?

Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee?
Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee?
Decline all this, and see what now thou art.
For happy wife, a most distressed widow
For joyful mother, one that wails the name;
For one being sued to, one that humbly sues;
For queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care;
For one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me ;
For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one;
For one commanding all, obey'd of none.
Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about,
And left thee but a very prey to time;
Having no more but thought of what thou wert,
To torture thee the more, being what thou art.
Thou didst usurp my place. And dost thou not
Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow?
Now thy proud neck bears half my burden'd yoke ;
From which even here I slip my wearied head,
And leave the burden of it all on thee.
Farewell, York's wife, and queen of sad mis-
chance,-

These English woes shall make me smile in France.

Q. Elix. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay a while, And teach me how to curse mine enemies.

Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the
day;"

Compare dead happiness with living woe:
Think that thy babes were fairer than they were,
And he, that slew them, fouler than he is:
Bettering thy loss makes the bad causer worse;
Revolving this will teach thee how to curse.
Q. Eliz. My words are dull, O, quicken them
with thine!

Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and
pierce like mine. [Exit Q. MARGARET.
Duch. Why should calamity be full of words?
Q. Eliz. Windy attorneys to their client woes,
Airy succeeders of intestate joys,"
Poor breathing orators of miseries!
Let them have scope: though what they do impart
Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart.'i

Duch. If so, then be not tongue-ty'd go with me,
And in the breath of bitter words let's smother
My damned son, that thy two sweet sons smother'd.
[Dram within,

I hear his drum,-be copious in exclaims.
Enter KING RICHARD, and his Train, marching
K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedition?
Duch. O, 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 your-
self.

your con

Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience.
K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of
dition, 12
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,

1 i. e. partaker of or participator in the grief of others. The word appears to have been used metapho-Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth nry hell. rically for an equal, a companion, or old and intimate acquaintance.

2 i. e. thrown into the bargain.

3 Adulterate is stained with adultery. Adulterata, Lat.

4 See note on Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 4:what act

That roars so loud and thunders in the inder? Mr. Nares suggests that the index of a pageant was probably a painted cloth hung up before a booth where a pageant was to be exhibited.

Alluding to the dangerous situation of those persons to whose care the standards of armies were entrusted. 6 i. e. run through all this from first to last.

7 Fast has no connection with the preceding word forbear; the meaning being sleep not at night, and fast during the day.

8 Bettering is amplifying, magnifying thy loss. I

Shakspeare employed the word for the sake of the an tithesis between better and loss.

9 Thus in Venus and Adonis:

So of concealed sorrow may be said: Free vent of words love's fire doth assuage; But when the heart's attorney once is mute, The client breaks as desperate of his suit.' 10 The meaning of this harsh metaphor is: The joys already possessed being all consumed and passed away, are supposed to have died intestate; that is, to have made no will, having nothing to bequeath; and more verbal complaints are their successors, but inherit nothing but misery.

11 Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak, Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.' Macbeth. 12 A spice or particle of your disposition.

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