If something thou wouldst swear to be believed, Swear then by something that thou hast not wronged. K. Rich. Now by the world,— Q. Eliz. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs. Thy life hath that dishonored. K. Rich. My father's death, K. Rich. Then, by myself, Thyself is self misused. K. Rich. Why then, by God,- God's wrong is most of all. If thou hadst feared to break an oath by him, Had not been broken, nor my brother slain. 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 K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and repent! I tender not thy beauteous, princely daughter! In her consists my happiness, and thine. Death, desolation, ruin, and decay. It cannot be avoided but by this; And be not peevish found in great designs. Q. Eliz. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus ? yourself. Q. Eliz. But thou didst kill my children. K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I bury them; Q. Eliz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss, and so fare- Relenting fool, and shallow, changing-woman!? Enter RATCLIFF; CATESBY following. Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast 1 Alluding to the phenix. 2 Such was the real character of this queen-dowager. .. And there they hull, expecting but the aid K. Rich. Some light-foot friend post to the duke of Norfolk; Ratcliff, thyself,-or Catesby; where is he? Cate. Here, my good lord. Catesby, fly to the duke. Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke? Cate. First, mighty liege, tell me your highness' pleasure, What from your grace I shall deliver to him. K. Rich. O, true, good Catesby.-Bid him levy straight The greatest strength and power he can make, Cate. I go. [Exit. Rat. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salis bury? K. Rich. Why, what wouldst thou do there, before I go? Rat. Your highness told me I should post before. Enter STANLEY. K. Rich. My mind is changed.-Stanley, what news with you? Stan. None, good my liege, to please you with the hearing; Nor none so bad, but well may be reported. K. Rich. Heyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad! What need'st thou run so many miles about, When thou mayst tell thy tale the nearest way? Once more, what news? P Stan. Richmond is on the seas. K. Rich. There let him sink, and be the seas on him! White-livered runagate, what doth he there? Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess. K. Rich. Well, as you guess? Stan. Stirred up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton, He makes for England, here to claim the crown. K. Rich. Is the chair empty? Is the sword un swayed? Is the king dead, the empire unpossessed? And who is England's king, but great York's heir? Stan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess. 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, K. Rich. Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond. I will not trust you, sir. Stan. 1 There was a male heir of the house of York alive, who had a better claim to the throne than he, Edward earl of Warwick, the only son of George duke of Clarence; but Elizabeth, the eldest daughter of Edward IV., and all her sisters, had a better title than either of them. He had, however, been careful to have the issue of king Edward pronounced illegitimate; and as the duke of Clarence had been attainted of high treason, he had some color for his bravado. K. Rich. Well, go, muster men. But, hear you, leave behind Your son, George Stanley; look your heart be firm, Or else his head's assurance is but frail. Stan. So deal with him, as I prove true to you. Enter a Messenger. [Exit STANLEY. Mess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, As I by friends am well advértised, Sir Edward Courtenay, and the haughty prelate, With many more confederates, are in arms. Enter another Messenger. 2 Mess. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in arms; And every hour more competitors1 Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong. Enter another Messenger. 3 Mess. My lord, the army of great BuckinghamK. Rich. Out on ye, owls! nothing but songs of [He strikes him. death? There, take thou that, till thou bring better news. No man knows whither. K. Rich. 3 Mess. Such proclamation hath been made, my liege. Enter another Messenger. 4 Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel, and lord marquis Dorset, 'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms. 1 Competitors here means confederates. |