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587 0, let me think on Hastings; and be gone K. Rich. Ely with Richmond troubles me

more near,
[Exit. Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength.

Come, I have learn'd, that fearful comment-
SCENE III.-The same.
Is leaden servitor to dull delay;

[ing Enter TYRREL.

Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary: Tyr. The tyrannous and bloody act is done; Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king!

Then fiery expedition be my wing,
The most arch deed of piteous massacre,
That ever yet this land was guilty of.

Go, muster men: My counsel is my shield; Dighton, and Forrest, whom I did suborn

We must be brief, when traitors brave the field. To do this piece of ruthlesst butchery,

[Erennt. Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs, SCENE IV.-The same.-Before the Palace. Melting with tenderness and mild compassion,

Enter Queen MARGARET. Wept like two children, in their death's sad story.

Q. Mar. So, now prosperity begins to mellow, O thus, quoth Dighton, lay the gentle babes,

And drop into the rotten mouth of death. Thus, thus, quoth Forrest, girdling one another Here in these confines slily have I lurk’d, Within their alabaster innocent arms :

To watch the waning of mine enemies. Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,

A dire induction* am I witness to, Which, in their summer beauty, kiss'd each other.

And will to France; hoping, the consequence A book of prayers on their pillow lay; (mind ;

Will prove as bitter, black, and tragicas. Which once, quoth Forrest, almost chang'd my

Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret! who But, 0, the devilthere the villain stopp'd;

comes here? When Dighton thus told on,-we smothered The most replenished sweet work of nature,

Enter Queen Elizabeth and the Duchess of

YORK. That, from the prime creation, e'er she fram'd.Hence both are gone; with conscience and re- Q. Eliz. Ah, my poor princes! ah, my tender morse,

babes! They could not speak; and so I left them both, My unblown flowers, pew-appearing sweets ! To bear this tidings to the bloody king.

If yet your gentle souls fly in the air,

And be not fix'd in doom perpetual,
Enter King RICHARD.

Hover about me with your airy wings, And here he comes:-All health, my sovereign And hear your mother's lamentation ! lord!

Q. Mar. Hover about her; say, that right for K. Rich. Kind Tyrrel! am I happy in thy Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night,

right news? Tyr. If to have done the thing you gave in

Duch. So many miseries have craz'd my charge


(mute,-Beget your happiness, be happy, then,

That my woe-wearied tongue is still and For it is done.

Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead ? K. Rich. But didst thou see them.dead ?

Q. Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet, Tyr. I dia, my lord.

Edward for Edward pays a dying debt. K. Rich. And buried, gentle Tyrrel?

Q. Eliz. Wilt thou, o God, fly from such Tyr. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried

gentle lambs, them;

And throw them in the entrails of the wolf? But where, to say the truth, I do not know.

When didst thou sleep, when such a deed was K. Rich. Come to me, Tyrrel, soon, at after


Q. Mar. When holy Harry died, and my supper, When thou shalt tell the process of their death.

sweet son. Mean time, but think how I may do thee good,

Duch. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortalAnd be inheritor of thy desire.

living ghost, Farewell, till then.

Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by Tyr. I humbly take my leave. [Exit.

life usurp'd, K. Rich. The son of Clarence have I penn'd Brief abstract and record of tedious days, up close;

(riage; Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth, His daughter meanly have I match'd in mar

[Sitting down. The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom, Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood ! And Anne my wife hath bid the world good

Q. Eliz. Ah, that thou would'st as soon afpight.


ford a grave, Now, for I know the Bretagnet Richmond

As thou canst yield á melancholy seat; At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter,

Then would I hide my bones, not rest them And, by that knot, looks proudly on the crown, Ah, who has any cause to mourn, but we?

here! To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer.

[Sitting down by her. Enter CATESBY.

Q. Mar. If ancient sorrow be most reverent,

Give mine the benefit of seniory,t
Cate. My lord,-
K. Rich. Good news or bad, that thou com’st if sorrow can admit society,

Apd let my griefs frown on the upper hand. in so bluntly! Cate. Bad news, my lord: Mortong is fled to Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine:

[Sitting down with them. Richmond; And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy I had a husband,'till a Richard kill'd him:

I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd bim;

Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd Is in the field, and still his power encreaseth. * His castle in Wales.

+ Merciless. Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard kill'd him. 1 The country in which Richmond had taken refuge. Bishop of Ely,

* Introduction,

# Seniority,


Duch. I had a Richard too, and thou did'st For one commanding all, obey'd of none. kill him;

Thu's bath the course of justice wheel'd about, I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him. And left thee but a very prey to time; [wert, Q. Mar. Thou had'st a Clarence too, and Having no more but thought of what thou Richard kill'd him.

To torture thee the more, being what thou art. From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept Thou didst usurp my place, And dost thou not A hell-hound, that doth hunt us all to death: Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow? That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes, Now thy proud neck bears half my burden'd To worry lambs, and lap their gentle blood;

yoke; That foul defacer of God's handy-work; From which even here I slip my wearied head, That excellent grand tyrant of the earth,

And leave the burden of it all on thee. That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls, Farewell, York's wife,-and queen of sad misThy womb let loose, to chase us to our


[France. graves.

These English woes shall make me smile in O upright, just, and true-disposing God,

Q. Eliz. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay How do I thank thee, that this carnal cur

a while, Preys on the issue of his mother's body,

And teach me how to curse mine enemies. And makes her pew-fellow* with others' moan! Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast Duch. O, Harry's wife, triumph not in my

the day; woes;

Compare dead happiness with living woe; God witness with me, I have wept for thine. Think that thy babes were fairer than they Q. Mur. Bear with me, I am hungry for re

were, venge,

And he, that slew them, fouler than he is: And now I cloy me with beholding it. (ward; Bettering thy loss makes the bad-causer worse; Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Ed. Revolving this will teach thee how to curse. Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward; Q. Eliz. My words are dull, 0, quicken Young York he is but boot,t because both

them with thine! they

Q. Mur. Thy woes will make them sharp, Match not the high perfection of my loss.

and pierce like mine. Thy Clarence he is dead, that stabb'd my Ed

[Exit Q. MARGARET, ward;

Duch. Why should calamity be full of words? And the beholders of this tragic play, [Grey, Q Eliz. Windy attornies to their client woes, The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Airy succeeders of intestate joys, Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves. Poor breathing orators of miseries! [impart Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer; Let them have scope: though what they do Only reserv'd their factor, to buy souls, Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart. And send them thither: But at hand, at hand,

Duch. If so, then be not tongue-tyd: go Ensues his piteous and unpitied end : (pray, Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints And in the breath of bitter words let's smother To have him suddenly convey'd from hence:- My damned son, that 'thy two sweet sons Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray,


[Drum within. That I may live to say, The dog is dead! I hear his drum,-be copious in exclaims.

Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophesy, the time Enter l'ing Richard, and his Train, marching. That I should wish for thee to help me curse

K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedi

tion ? That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad.

Duch. O, she, that might have intercepted Q. Mar. I call'd thee then, vain flourish of

thee, my fortune;

By strangling thee in her accursed womb, I call’d thee then, poor shadow, painted queen; From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou

hast done. The presentation of but what I was, The flattering indext of a direful pageant,

Q. Eliz. Hid'st thou that forehead with a One heav'd a high, to be hurl'd down below:

golden crown,

(right, A mother only mock'd with two fair babes;

Where should be branded, if that right were A dream of what thou wast; a garishg tlag,

The slaughter of the prince that uw d* that To be the aim of every dangerous shot:


[thers? A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble;

And the dire death of my poor sons, and broA queen in jest, only to fill the scene.

Tell me, thou villain-slave, where are my cbilWhere is thy husband now? Where be thy

dren? brothers ?


Duch. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy Where be thy two sons? Wherein dost thou

brother Clarence ? Who sues, and kneels, and says-God save And little Ned Plantagenet, his son ? thie queen?

Q. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaug. Where be the bending peers that fatter'd thee?

han, Grey ? Where be the thronging troops that follow'd

Duch. Where is kind Hastings? thee?

K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets !-strike alaDecline all this, and see what now thou art.

rum, drums! For happy wife, a most distressed widow;

Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women For joyful mother, one that wails the name;

Rail on the Lord's anointed: Strike, I say.For one being sued to, one that humbly siles; Either be patient, and entreat me fair,

(Flourish. Alarums. For queen, a very caitiff'crown'd with care: For one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me;

Or with the clamorous report of war For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one;

Thus will I drown your exclamations.

Duch. Art thou my son ? * Companion. + Thrown in to boot.

K. Rich. Ay; I thank God, my father, and 1 Indexes were anciently placed at the beginning of

yourself. books. Flaring,

* Owncl.

with me,

would come,

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Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience. Q. Eliz. To save her life, I'll say—she is not K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your condition,

K. Rich. Her life is safest only in her birth. That cannot brook the accent of reproof. Q. Eliz. And only in that safety died her Duch. O, let me speak.

brothers. k. Rich. Do, then ; but I'll not hear.

K. Rich. Lo, at their births good stars were Duch. I will be mild and gentle in my words.

opposite. K. Rich. And brief, good mother; for I am Q. Eliz. No, to their lives bad friends were in haste.

contrary. Duch. Art thou so basty? I have staid for K. Rich. All unavoided* is the doom of desthee,

tiny. God knows, in torment and in agony.

Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort

destiny: you?

My babes were destin'd to a fairer death, Duch. No, by the holy rood,t thou know'st if grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life. it well,

K. Rich. You speak, as if that I had slain Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell.

my cousins. A grievous burden was thy birth to me;

Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle Teichyt and wayward was thy infancy;

cozen'd Thy school-days, frightful, desperate, wild, of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. and furious;

[turous; Whose hands svever lanc'd their tender hearts, Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and ven- Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction: Thý age confirm’d, proud, subtle, sly, and No doubt the murderous kuife was dull and bloody,


blunt, More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart, What comfortable hour canst thou name, To revel in the entrails of my lambs. That ever grac'd me in thy company?

But that stillt use of grief' makes wild grief K. Rich. 'Faith, none, but Humpbrey Hour,


[boys, that call'd your grace

My tongue should to thy ears not vame my To breakfast once, forth of my company. Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes; If I be so disgracious in your sight,

And I, in such a desperate bay of death, Let me march on, and not offend you, madam.- Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft, Strike up the drum.

Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom. Druch. I pr’ythee, hear me speak.

K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterK. Rich. You speak tvo bitierly.

prize, Duch. Hear me a word;

And dangerous success of bloody wars, For I shall never speak to thee again.

As I intend more good to you and yours, K. Rich. So.

Then ever you or yours by me were harm’d! Duch. Either thou wilt die, by God's just or- Q. Eliz. What good is cover'd with the face dinance,

of heaven, Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror;. To be discover'd, that can do me good? Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish, K. Rich. The advancement of your children, And never look upon thy face agaiv.

gentle lady. Therefore, take with thee my most heavy curse; Q. Eliz. Up to some scaffold, there to lose Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more,

their heads? Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st! K. Rich. No, to the dignity and height of My prayers on the adverse party fight;

fortune, And there the little souls of Edward's children The high imperial type of this earth's glory. Whisper the spirits of thine enemies,

Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrows with report of Anu promise them success and victory. Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end; Tell me, what state, what dignity, what honour, Shame serves thy life, and doth thy death at-Canst thou demises to any child of mine? tend.

(Exit. K. Rich. Even all I have; ay, and myself Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much

and all, less spirit to curso

Will I withal endow a child of thine; Abides in me; I say Amen to her. (Going; So in the Lethe of thy angry soul (wrongs, K. Rich. Stay, madam, I must speak a word Thou drown the sad remembrance of those with you.

Which, thou supposest, I have done to thee. Q. Eliz. I have no more sons of the royal Q. Eliz. Be brief, lest that the process of thy blood,

kindness For thee to murder: for my daughters, Last longer telling than thy kindness' date. Richard,

[queens; K. Rich. Then know, that, from my soul, I They shall be praying nuns, not weeping love thy daughter. And therefore level not to hit their lives. Q. Eliz. My daugbier's mother thinks it with K. Rich. You have a daughter call'd-Eliza

her soul. Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious. Įbeth, K. Rich. What do you think? Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? 0, let her Q. Eliz. That thou dost love my daughter, live,

from thy soul: And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty; So, from thy soul's love, didst thou love her Slander myself, as false to Edward's bed;


[it. Throw over her the veil of infamy: (ter; And, from my heart's love, I do thank thee for So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaugh- K. Rich. Be not so hasty to confound my I will confess she was not Edward's daughter.

meaning: K. Rich. Wrong not her birth, she is of royal | I mean, that with my soul I love thy daughter, blood.

And do intend to make her queen of England.


Touchy, fictful.

# Disposition

+ (ross,

* l navoiclible.

+ Constant

I A crown. Bequeath the way

Q. Eliz. Well then, who dost thou mean shall | Go then, my mother, to thy daughter go; be her king?

Make bold her bashful years with your expeK. Rich. Even be, that makes her queen :

rience; Who else should be?

Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale; Q. Eliz. What, thou?

Put in her tender heart the aspiring flame Ř. Rich. Even so : What think you of it, Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the princess madam?

With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys: Q. Eliz. How canst thou woo her?

And when this arm of mine hath chastised K. Rich. That I would learn of you,

The petty rebel, dull-brain’d Buckingham, As one being best acquainted with her humour. Bound with triumphant garlands will I come, Q. Eliz. And wilt thou learn of me?

And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed; K. Rich. Madam, with all my heart. To whom I will retail my conquest wody Q. Eliz. Send to her, by the man that slew And she shall be sole victress, Cæsar's Cæsar. her brothers,

Q. Eliz. What were I best to say ? her father's A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave,

brother Edward, and York, then, haply,* will she weep: Would be her lord? Or shall I say, her unele! Therefore present to her,-as sometime Mar. Or, he that slew her brothers, and her uncles! garet

Under what title shall I woo for thee, Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood,- That God, the law, my honour, and her love, A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain Can make seem pleasing to her tender years? The purple sap from her sweet brother's body, K. Rich. Inser

fair England's peace by this And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal.

alliance. If this inducement move her not to love, Q. Eliz. Which she shall purchase with still Send her a letter of thy noble deeds;

lasting war. Tell her, thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence, K. Rich. Tell her, the king, that may comHer uncle Rivers; ay, and, for her sake,

mand, entreats. Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Q. Eliz. That at her hands, which the king's Anne.

King forbids.* K. Rich. You mock me, madam; this is not K. Rich. Say, she shall be a high and mighty

queen. To win your daughter.

Q. Eliz. To wail the title, as her mother Q. Eliz. There is no other way;

doth. Unless thou could'st put on some other shape, K. Rich. Say, I will love her everlastingly. And not be Richard that hath done all this. Q. Eliz. But how long shall that tite, erer, K. Rich. Say, that I did all this for love of

last? her.

K. Rich. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's Q. Eliz. Nay, then indeed, she cannot choose

end. but have thee,

Q. Eliz. But how long fairly shall her sweet Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.

life lust? K. Rich. Look, what is done cannot be now K. Rich. As long as heaven, and nature amended:

lengthens it. Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,

Q. Eliz. As long as hell, and Richard, likes Which after-hours give leisure to repent.

of it. If I did take the kingdom from your sons, K. Rich. Say, 1, her sovereign, am ber subTo make amends, I'll give it to your daughter.

ject low. If I have kill'd the issue of your womb,

Q. Eliz. But she, your subject, loaths such To quicken your increase, I will beget

sov'reignty. Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter. K. Rich. Be eloquent in my behalf to her. A grandam's name is little less in love,

Q. Eliz. An honest tale speeds best, being Than is the doting title of a inother;

plainly told. They are as children, but one step below, K. Rich. Then, in plain terms, tell her my Even of your mettle, of your very blood;

loving tale. Of all one pain,-save for a night of groans Q. Eliz. Plain, and not honest, is too harsh Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow.

a style. Your children were vexation to your youth, K. Rich. Your reasons are too shallow and But mine shall be a confort to your age.

too quick. The loss you have, is but-a son being king, Q. Elio. O, no, my reasons are too deep and And, by that loss, your daughter is made queen.

Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. I cannot make you what amends I would, k. Rich. Harp hot on that string, madam ; Therefore accept such kindness as I can.

that is past. Dorset, your son, that, with a fearful soul, Q. Eliz. Harp on it still shall I, till heartLeads discontented steps in foreign soil,

strings break. This fair alliance quickly shall call home K. Rich. Now by my George, my garter, To high promotions and great dignity: [wife, and my crown, The king, that calls your beauteous daughter, Q. Eliz. Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third Familiarly shall call thy Dorset-brother;

usurp'd. Again shall you be mother to a king,

K. Rich. I swear. And all the ruins of distressful times

Q. Eliz. By nothing; for this is no oath. Repair'd with double riches of content. Thy George, profan'd, hath lost his holy What! we have many goodly days to see:


(virtue; The liquid drops of tears that you bave shed, Thy garter, blemish'd, pawn'd his knightly Shall come again, transform’d to orient pearl; Thy crown, usurp’d, disgrac'd his kingly glory; Advantaging their loan, with interest Of ten-times-double gain of happiness.

If something, thou would'st swear to be be


* In the Levitical Law, chap. xvii. 14. Perhaps.

# The ensigns of the Order of the Garter.

dead ;

Cate. I go.

Swear then by something that thou hast not | Relenting fool, and shallow, changing--wowrong's.

man! K. Rich. Now by the world,

How now? what news ?
Q. Eliz. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs.
K. Rich. My father's death,

Enter RatclIFF; CATEsby following. Q. Eliz. Thy life hath that dishonour'd.

Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western K. Rich. Then, by myself,

coast Q. Eliz. Thyself is self-misus'd. K.Rich. Why then, by God,

Rideth a puissant navy; to the shore

Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, Q. Eliz. God's wrong is most of all.

Unarm’d, and unresolv'd to beat them back: If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by him,

'Tis thought, that Richmond is their admiral; The unity, the king thy brother made,

And there they hull, expecting but the aid Had not been broken, nor my brother slain: If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by him,

Of Buckingham, to welcome them ashore.

K. Rich. Some light-foot friend post to the The imperial metal, circling now thy head,

duke of Norfolk :Had grac'd the tender temples of my child ; Ratcliff, thyself,-or Catesby; where is he? And both the princes had been breathing here,

Cate. Here, my good lord.
Which now, two tender bed-fellows for dust,
Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms.

K. Rich. Catesby, fly to the duke.

Cate. I will, my lord, with all convenient What canst thou swear by now?

haste. K. Rich. By the time to come.

K. Rich. Ratcliff, come hither; Post to Q. Eliz. That thou hast wrong'd in the time

Salisbury; o'erpast;

When thou com'st thither,- Dull unmindful For I myself have many tears to wash

villain, Hereafter time, for time past, wrong'd by thee. Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the

[To Catesby. The children live, whose parents thou hast

duke? slaughter'd,

Cate. First, mighty liege, tell me your highUngovern'd youth, to wail it in their age:

ness' pleasure. The parents live, whose children thou hast | What from your grace I shall deliver to him. butcher'd,

K. Rich. , true, good Catesby ;-Bid him Old barren plants, to wail it with their age.

levy straight Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast The greatest strength and power he can make, Misus'd ere used, by times ill-us'd o'erpast. And meet me suddenly at Salisbury. K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and repent!

[Exit. So thrive I in my dangerous attempt

Rat. What, may it please you, shall i dd at Of hostile arms! myself myself confound!.

Salisbury? Heaven, and fortune, bar me happy hours! K. Rich. Why, what would'st thou do there, Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy

before I go? Be opposite all planets of good luck [rest!

Rat. Your highness told me, I should post To my proceeding, if, with pure heart's love,

before. Immaculate devotion, holy ihoughts, I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter!

Enter STANLEY. In her consists my happiness, and thine; K. Rich. My mind is chang’d.-Stanley, Without her, follows to myself, and thee,

what news with you? Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul, Stan. None good, my liege, to please you Death, desolation, ruin, and decay:

with the hearing; It cannot be avoided but by this;

Nor none so bad, but well may be reported. It will not be avoided but by this.

K. Rich. Heyday, a riddle! neither good Therefore, dear mother, (I must call you so,)

nor bad! Be the attorney of my love to her,

What need'st thou run so many miles about, Plead what I will be, not what I have been ;

When thou may'st tell thy tale the nearest Not my deserts, but what I will deserve:

way? Urge the necessity and state of times,

Once more what news?
And be not peevish* found in great designs. Stan. Richmond is on the seas.

Q. Eliz. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus? K. Rich. There let him sink, and be the seas
K. Rich. Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do

on him! good.

White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there? Q. Eliz. Shall I forget myself, to be myself?

Stun. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by K. Rich. Ay, if your self's remembrance

guess. wrong yourself.

K. Rich. Well, as you guess? Q. Eliz. But thou didst kill my children.

Stan. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I

and Morton,

(crown. bury them :

[breed He makes for England, here to claim the Where, in that nest of spicery,t they shall

K. Rich. Is the chair empty? is the sword Selves of themselves, to your recomfortu re. Q. Eliz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy Is the king dead? The empire unpossess'd ?

unsway'd ? will ?

What heir of York is there alive, but we? K. Rich. And be a happy mother by the

And who is England's king, but great York's deed.

heir? Q. Eliz. I go.-Write to me very shortly, Then, tell me, what makes he upon the seas? And you shall understand from me her mind.

Stan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss, and

guess. so farewell.

K. Rich. Unless for that he comes to be your (Kissing her. Exit Q. ELIZABETH.



You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman Foolish,

+ The phænix's nest. Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear,

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