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K. Rich. Say, that I did all this for love of her?
K. Rich. Look, what is done cannot be now amended: Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, Which after-hours give leisure to repent. If I did take the kingdom from your sons, To make amends, I'll give it to your daughter. Your children were vexation to your youth, But mine shall be a comfort to your age. The loss, you have, is but-a son being king, And, by that loss, your daughter is made queen. I cannot make you wliat amends I would, Therefore açcept such kindness as I can. Dorset, your son, that, with a fearful soul, Leads discontented steps in foreign soil, This fair alliance quickly shall call home To high promotions and great dignity. The king, that calls your beauteous daughter,—wife, Familiarly shall call thy Dorset-brother; Again shall you be mother to a king, And all the ruins of distressful times Repair’d with double riches of content. What! we have many goodly days to see : The liquid drops of tears that you have shed, Shall come again, transform’d to orient pearl ; Advantaging their loan, with interest Of ten-times-double gain of happiness. Go then, my mother, to thy daughter go; Make bold her bashful years with your experience ; Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale; Put in her tender heart th'aspiring flame Of golden sov'reignty ; acquaint the princess With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys: And when this arm of mine hath chástized The petty rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham, Bound with triumphant garlands will I come, And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed;
To whom I will retail' my conquest won,
Q. Eliz. What were I best to say? her father's bro-
K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and repent!
not peevish found in great designs.
Q. Eliz. I go.—Write to me very shortly, And you shall understand from me her mind. (well. K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss, and so fare
[Kissing her. Exit Queen ELIZABETH.
1 i. e. recount.
Relenting fool, and shallow, changing-woman!
Enter RatcliFF; CATESBY following.
Cate. Here, my good lord.
Catesby, fly to the duke. Cate. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. K. Rich. Ratcliffe, come hither: Post to Salisbury; When thou com'st thither,-Dull unmindful villain,
[To CATESBY. Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke?
Čate. First, mighty liege, tell me your highness'pleaWhat from your grace I shall deliver to him. [sure, K. Rich. O, true, good Catesby ;-Bid him levy
Exit. Rat. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury? K. Rich. Why, what would'st thou do there, before
I go? Rat. Your highness told me, I should post before.
Enter STANLEY. K. Rich. My mind is chang'd.-Stanley, what news
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!
Richmond is on the seas.
Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.
K. Rich. Is the chair empty? is the sword unsway'd?
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 ?
Stan. No, my good lord, my friends are in the north.
Stan. They have not been commanded, mighty king:
· Edward, earl of Warwick, only son to the duke of Clarence, the usurper's elder brother, and Elizabeth and other daughters of Edward IV. were living: all these of course had a better title to the crown than Richard.
K. Rich. Ay, ay, thou would'st be gone to join with I will not trust you, sir.
[Richmond : Stan.
Most mighty sovereign, You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful; I never was, nor never will be false. 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.
[Exit STANLEY Enter a Messenger. 1 Mess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, As I by friends am well advertised, Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate, Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother, With many more confederates, are in arms.
Enter another Messenger. 2 Mess. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in And every hour more competitors'
(arms; 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 death?
[He strikes him. There, take thou that, till thou bring better news.
3 Mess. The news I have to tell your majesty,
O, I cry you mercy :
ii. e. associates.