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 the aspiring flame
Of golden sov'reignty; acquaint the princess
With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys:
And when this arm of mine hath chástised
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,
And she shall be sole victress, Cæsar's Cæsar.
Q. Eliz. What were I best to say? her father's
brother

Would be her lord? Or shall I say, her uncle?
Or he that slew her brothers and her uncles?
Under what title shall I woo for thee,
That God, the law, my honour, and her love,
Can make seem pleasing to her tender years!*
K. Rich. Infer fair England's peace by this
alliance.

Q. Eliz. Which she shall purchase with still lasting war.

K. Rich. Tell her, the king, that may command, entreats.

Q. Eliz. That at her hands which the king's King forbids.

K. Rich. Say, she shall be a high and mighty

queen.

Q. Eliz. To wail the title, as her mother doth. K. Rich. Say, I will love her everlastingly. Q. Eliz. But how long shall that title, ever, last?

K. Rich. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end.

Q. Eliz. But how long fairly shall her sweet life last?

K. Rich. As long as heaven, and nature, lengthens it.

Q. Eliz. As long as hell, and Richard, likes of it.

The preceding fifty-five lines are only found in the folio.

Thy life hath it dishonour'd.

K. Rich. My father's death,Q. Eliz. K. Rich. Why then, by God,Q. Eliz. God's wrong is most of all. If thou had'st fear'd to break an oath by him, The unity the king my husband made Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers died. If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by him, The imperial metal, circling now thy head, Had grac'd the tender temples of my child; And both the princes had been breathing here,

Q. Eliz. That thou hast wronged in the time
o'er-past;

For I myself have many tears to wash
Hereafter time, for time past, wrong'd by thee.
The children live whose fathers thou hast
slaughter'd,

Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age;
The parents live whose children thou hast
butcher'd,

Old barren plants, to wail it with their age. Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast Misused ere used, by times ill-used o'er-past.

K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and repent, So thrive I in my dangerous affairs Of hostile arms! myself myself confound! Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours! Day yield me not thy light, nor night, thy rest! Be opposite all planets of good luck

To my proceeding! if, with dear heart's love,
Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,

I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter!
In her consists my happiness, and thine;
Without her, follows to myself, and thee,
Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul,
Death, desolation, ruin, and decay :
It cannot be avoided but by this;
It will not be avoided but by this.
Therefore, dear mother, (I must call you so,)
Be the attorney of my love to her.
Plead what I will be, not what I have been;
Not my deserts, but what I will deserve:
Urge the necessity and state of times,
And be not peevish found in great designs.

Q. Eliz. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus?
K. Rich. Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do good.
Q. Eliz. Shall I forget myself, to be myself?
K. Rich. Ay, if yourself's remembrance wrong
yourself.

Q. Eliz. Yet, thou didst kill my children. K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I bury them :

Where, in that nest of spicery, they will breed Selves of themselves to your recomforture.

Q. Eliz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy

will?

K. Rich. And be a happy mother by the deed. Q. Eliz. I go.-Write to me very shortly, And you shall understand from me her mind.

Fathers, in the folio; the quartos, parents. Affairs, in the folio; the quartos, attempts. Dear, in the folio; the quartos, pure.

K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss, and so farewell.

[Kissing her. Exit Q. ELIZABETH. Relenting fool, and shallow changing woman! How now? what news?

Enter RATCLIFF; CATESBY following. Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western

coast

a

Rideth a puissant navy; to our shores
Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends,
Unarm'd, and unresolv'd to beat them back:
"T is thought that Richmond is their admiral;
And there they hull, expecting but the aid
Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore.
K. Rich. Some light-foot friend post to the
duke of Norfolk :-

Ratcliff, thyself,-or Catesby; where is he?
Cate. Here, my good lord.
K. Rich.

Catesby, fly to the duke. Cate. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. K. Rich. Ratcliff, 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? Cate. First, mighty liege, tell me your high

ness' pleasure,

K. Rich. There let him sink, and be the seas on him!

White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there? Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.

K. Rich. Well, as you guess?

Stan. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton,

He makes for England, here to claim the crown.
K. Rich. Is the chair empty? Is the sword
unsway'd
'd?

Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd?
What heir of York is there alive but we?
And who is England's king but great York's heir?
Then, tell me, what makes he upon the seas?
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, my good lord, 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 cónducting 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,
Where, and what time, your majesty shall please.
K. Rich. Ay, thou would'st be gone to join
with Richmond:

But I'll not trust thee."

Stan. Most mighty sovereign, You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful; I never was, nor never will be, false.

K. Rich. Go then, and muster men. But leave behind c

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.

My good lord, in the folio; the quartos, mighty liege. So the folio; the quartos, I will not trust you, sir. • So the folio; the quartos

"Well, go, muster men. But, hear you, leave behind."

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,

As I by friends am well advértised,

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 Guilfords are in arms;

And every hour more competitors"
Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong.

Enter another Messenger.

3 Mess. My lord, the army of great Buckingham

K. 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, Is, that, by sudden floods and fall of waters, Buckingham's army is dispers'd and scatter'd ; And he himself wander'd away alone,

No man knows whither.

Enter another Messenger.

4 Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel, and lord marquis Dorset,

'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms.
But this good comfort bring I to your highness,-
The Bretagne navy is dispers'd by tempest:
Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat
Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks
If they were his assistants, yea, or no;
Who answer'd him, they came from Buckingham
Upon his party: he, mistrusting them,
Hois'd sail, and made his course again for Bre-
tagne.

K. Rich. March on, march on, since we are up
in arms;

If not to fight with foreign enemies,
Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.

Enter CATESBY.

Cate. My liege, the duke of Buckingham is taken,

That is the best news. That the earl of Richmond • Competitors-associates.

Is with a mighty power landed at Milford,
Is colder news, but yet they must be told.
K. Rich. Away towards Salisbury; while we
reason here

A royal battle might be won and lost :
Some one take order Buckingham be brought
To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.
[Exeunt.

SCENE V.-A Room in Lord Stanley's House.
Enter STANLEY and Sir CHRISTOPHER URSWICK.
Stan. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from

me:

That, in the sty of this most bloody boar,"
My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold;
If I revolt, off goes young George's head;
The fear of that holds off my present aid.
So, get thee gone; commend me to thy lord.
Withal, say, that the queen hath heartily con-
sented

This most bloody boar is the reading of the quartos; the folio, the most deadly. Holds off, in the folio; the quartos, withholds.

He shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter.
But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now?
Chris. At Pembroke, or at Ha'rford-west, in
Wales.

Stan. What men of name resort to him?
Chris. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier;
Sir Gilbert Talbot, sir William Stanley;
Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, sir James Blunt,
And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew;
And many other of great name and worth :
And towards London do they bend their power,"
If by the way they be not fought withal.

Stan. Well, hie thee to thy lord; I kiss his hand.

My letter will resolve him of my mind.
Farewell.b

Power, in the folio; the quartos, course.

[Exeunt.

b This is the literal reading of the folio, and it appears unexceptionable. The quartos read

"Return unto my lord, commend me to him.
Tell him, the queen hath heartily consented
He shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter.
These letters will resolve him of my mind.
Farewell."

One reading or the other surely ought to be held to-the uncorrected or the corrected copy. But we have a jumble of both in all modern editions-a reading which is different from that of the poet in any stage of his labour.

THE tragic story of the murder of Richard's nephews thus presented itself to Shakspere:

"And forasmuch as his mind gave him that, his nephews living, men would not reckon that he could have right to the realm, he thought therefore without delay to rid them, as though the killing of his kinsmen might end his cause and make him kindly king. Whereupon he sent John Green, whom he specially trusted, unto Sir Robert Brakenbury, constable of the Tower, with a letter and credence also,

that the same Sir Robert in any wise should put the two children to death. This John Green did his errand to Brakenbury, kneeling before Our Lady in the Tower; who plainly answered that he would never put them to death to die therefore. With the which answer Green returned, recounting the same to King Richard at Warwick, yet on his journey; wherewith he took such displeasure and thought, that the same night he said to a secret page of his, Ah, whom shall a man trust? they that I have