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 forever let them last!
K. Rich. Ah, Buckingham, now do I play the touch,1
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 performed.

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,

lord,

Before I positively speak in this:

I will resolve your grace immediately.

dear

[Exit BUCKINGHAM.

[Aside.

Cate. The king is angry; see, he gnaws his lip.

K. Rich. I will converse with iron-witted fools,

2

[Descends from his throne. And unrespective boys; none are for me, That look into me with considerate eyes;— High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect.― Boy,

Page. My lord.

1 "To play the touch" is to resemble the touchstone.
2 Unrespective, i. e. inconsiderate, unregardful.

K. Rich. Know'st thou not any, whom corrupting

gold

Would tempt unto a close exploit1 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.

The deep-revolving, witty Buckingham

[Exit Page.

No more shall be the neighbor to my counsels.
Hath he so long held out with me untired,
And stops he now for breath?-Well, be it so.-

Enter STANLEY.

How now, lord Stanley? what's the news!

Stan.

Know, my loving lord,

The marquis Dorset, as I hear, is fled

To Richmond, in the parts where he abides.
K. Rich. Come hither, Catesby; rumor it abroad,
That Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick;
I will take order for her keeping close.
Inquire me out some mean-born gentleman,
Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' daughter.
The boy is foolish,2 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,3

To stop all hopes, whose growth may damage me.
[Exit CATESBY.

1 Secret act.

2 This youth was, at this time, about ten years old, and we are not told that he had then exhibited any symptoms of folly. Being confined 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; his account is copied by Holinshed.

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
So far in blood, that sin will pluck on sin.
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 enemies. K. Rich. Why, then thou hast it; two deep enemies, Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleep's disturbers, Are they that I would have thee deal upon. Tyrrel, I mean those bastards in the Tower.

Tyr. Let me have open means to come to them, And soon I'll rid you from the fear of them.

K. Rich. Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrel;

Go, by this token.—Rise, and lend thine ear;

There is no more but so ;-say, it is done,
And I will love thee, and prefer thee for it.'
Tyr. I will despatch it straight.

Re-enter BUCKINGHAM.

[Whispers.

Buck. My lord, I have considered in my mind.

The late demand that you did sound me in.

[Exit.

K. Rich. Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to Richmond.

Buck. I hear the news, my lord.

K. Rich. Stanley, he's your wife's son.-Well, look to it.

Buck. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise,

1 The quarto has the following very characteristic line:—

"King. Shall we hear from thee, Tirril, ere we sleep?"

For which your honor and your faith is pawned;
The earldom of Hereford, and the movables,
Which you have promised I shall possess.

K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife; if she convey Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.

Buck. What says your highness to my just request? K. Rich. I do remember me,-Henry the Sixth Did prophesy, that Richmond should be king, When Richmond was a little peevish boy. A king?-perhaps

Buck. My lord,

K. Rich. How chance, the prophet could not, at that time,

Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him?
Buck. My lord, your promise for the earldom,-
K. Rich. Richmond!-When last I was at Exeter,
The mayor in courtesy showed me the castle,
And called it-Rouge-mont;1 at which name, I started;
Because a bard of Ireland told me once,

I should not live long after I saw Richmond.

Buck. My lord,

K. Rich.

Buck.

To put your grace in mind of what you promised 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?

2

K. Rich. Because that, like a Jack, thou keep'st

the stroke

1 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 Cæsar, but rather, and in truth, by the Romans after him.

2 This alludes to the jack of the clock house, mentioned 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 compares 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

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.

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 piece of ruthless butchery,
Albeit they were fleshed villains, bloody dogs,
Melting with tenderness and mild compassion,
Wept like two children, in their death's sad story.
O thus, quoth Dighton, lay the gentle babes,—
Thus, thus, quoth Forrest, girdling one another
Within their alabaster, innocent arms:
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,
Which, in their summer beauty, kissed each other.
A book of prayers on their pillow lay;

Which once, quoth Forrest, almost changed my mind;
But, O, the devil—there the villain stopped;
When Dighton thus told on-we smothered
The most replenished, sweet work of nature,
That, from the prime creation, e'er she framed.-
Hence both are gone with conscience and remorse,
They could not speak; and so I left them both,
To bear this tidings to the bloody king.

pursue his meditations. Jack was a term of contempt, occurring before in this play.

1 His castle in Wales.