A CT IV.

SCENE, before the Tower.

Enter the Queen, Dutchess of York, and Marquis of Dorfet, at one Door; Anne, Dutchess of Gloucester, leading Lady Margaret Plantagenet, Clarence's young Daughter, at the other.

W

DUTCHESS.

HO meets us here? my Niece Plantagenet, Led in the hand of her kind Aunt of Glofter? (9) Now, for my life fhe's wandring to the Tower, On pure heart's love, to greet the tender Princes. Daughter, well met.

Anne. God give your Graces both

A happy and a joyful time of day.

Queen. Sifter, well met; whither away fo faft? Anne. No farther than the Tower; and as I guefs, Upon the like devotion as yourselves,

To gratulate the gentle Princes there.

Queen. Kind fifter, thanks; we'll enter all together.
Enter the Lieutenant.

And in good time here the Lieutenant comes.
Mafter Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,
How doth the Prince, and my young fon of York?
Lieu. Right well, dear Madam; by your patience,

(9) Who meets us bere? my Niece Plantagenet,

Led in the Hand of ber kind Aunt of Glo'fter?] Here is a manifeft Intimation, that the Dutchefs of Glofter leads in fomebody in her hand; but there is no Direction, or entrance mark'd in any of the Copies, from which we can learn who it is. I have ventur'd to guefs, it must be Clarence's young Daughter. The old Dutchess of York calls her Niece, i. e. Grand-daughter; as Grand children are frequently call'd Nephews.

I may not fuffer you to vifit them;

The King hath ftrictly charg'd the contrary.
Queen. The King? who's that?

Lieu. I mean, the Lord Protector..

Queen. The Lord protect him from that kingly title! Hath he fet bounds between their love and me?, I am their mother, who fhall bar me from them? Dutch. I am their father's mother. I will fee them. Anne. Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother : Then bring me to their fights, I'll bear thy blame, And take thy office from thee on my peril.

Lieu. No, madam, no, I may not leave it fo I'm bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.

Enter Stanley.

[Exit Lieutenant.

Stanl. Let me but meet you, Ladies, one hour hence,
And I'll faulte your Grace of York as mother
And rev'rend looker on of two fair Queens.
Come, Madam, you'muft ftrait to Westminster,
There to be crowned Richard's royal Queen.
Qucen. Ah, cut my lace afunder,

That my pent heart may have fome scope to beat,
Or elfe I fwoon with this dead killing news!

Anne. Defpightful tidings, O unpleafing news!
Dor. Be of good chear: mother how fares your Grace!
Queen. O Dorfet, fpeak not to me, get thee hence,
Death and deftruction dog thee at thy heels,
Thy mother's name is ominous to children.
If thou wilt outstrip death, go cross the feas;
And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell.
Go, hye thee, hye thee from this flaughter-house,
Left thou increase the number of the dead;
And make me die the thrall of Margret's curfe;
Nor mother, wife, nor England's counted Queen.
Stanl. Full of wife care is this your counfel, Madam ;
Take all the swift advantage of the time;
You fhall have letters from me to my fon
In your behalf, to meet, you on the way:

Be

Be not ta'en tardy by unwife delay.
Dutch. O Ill-difperfing wind of mifery!
O my accurfed womb, the bed of death!
A cockatrice haft thou hatch'd to the world,
Whofe unavoided eye is murderous.

Stanl. Come, Madam, come, I in all hafte was fent. Anne. And I with all unwillingness will go. O, 'would to God, that the inclufive verge Of golden metal, that must round my brow, Were red-hot fteel, to fear me to the brain! Anointed let me be with deadly venom, And die, ere men can fay, Gcd fave the Queen! Queen. Go, go, poor foul, I envy not thy glory; To feed my humour, with thyfelf no harm.

Anne. No! why ?-When he, that is my husband now, Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's coarse;

When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his hands, Which iffu'd from my other angel husband,

And that dear faint, which then I weeping follow'd: O when, I fay, I look'd on Richard's face,

This was my wish; "Be thou, quoth I, accurs'd; "For making me, fo young, fo old a widow! "And when thou wed'ft, let forrow haunt thy bed; "And be thy wife, if any be fo mad, "More miferable by the life of thee,

.“ Than thou haft made me, by my dear Lord's death !”, Lo, ere I can repeat this curfe again,

Within fo fmall a time, my woman's heart
Grofsly grew captive to his honey words,

And prov'd the fubject of mine own foul's curfe:
Which ever fince hath held mine eyes from reft.
For never yet one hour in his bed

Did I enjoy the golden dew of fleep,

But with his tim❜rous dreams was ftill awak'd.
Befide, he hates me for my father Warwick;
And will, no doubt, fhortly be rid of me.

Queen. Poor heart, adieu, I pity thy complaining.
Anne. No more than with my foul I mourn for yours.
Dor Farewel, thou woful welcomer of glory!

Anne,

Anne. Adieu, poor foul, that tak'ft thy leave of it!
Dutch. Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide

thee!

[To Dorfet.

Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee!

[To Anne.

Go thou to fanctuary, good thoughts poffefs thee!
[To the Queen.
1 to my grave, where peace and reft lie with me!
Eighty odd years of forrow have I seen,

And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen.
Queen. Stay; yet look back, with me, unto the Tower.
Pity, you ancient ftones, thofe tender babes,
Whom envy hath immur'd within your walls!
Rough cradle for fuch little pretty ones!
Rude ragged nurfe! old fullen play-fellow,
For tender Princes; use my babies well!
So foolish forrow bids your ftones farewel.

SCENE changes to the Court.

[Exeunt.

Flourish of trumpets. Enter Gloucefter as King, Buckingham, Catefby.

K. Rich. Tand all apart-coufin of Buckingham,

STand
Buck. My gracious Sovereign!

K. Rich. Give me thy hand. Thus high, by thy advice,
And thy affiftance, is King Richard feated:
But shall we wear thefe glories for a day?
Or fhall they last, and we rejoice in them?
Buck. Still live they, and for ever let them laft!
K. Rich. Ah, Buckingham, now do I play the touch,
To try if thou be current gold, indeed: (10)
Young Edward lives-think now, what I would speak.
Buck..

(10) Ab! Buckingham, now do I play the Touch.] Mr. Warburton thinks, the technical Term is abfolutely requifite here, and that the Poet wrote;

-Now do I'ply the Touch.

i. e. apply the Touchflone: For that is meant by what he calls Touch.

So,

1

Buck. Say on, my loving Lord. 2007 weibÀ met. K. Rich. Why, Buckingham, Islay I would be King. Buck. Why, fo you are, my thrice-renowned Liege. K. Rich. Ha! am I King? 'tis fo-but Edivard lives Buck. True, noble Prince.

K. Rich: O bitter confequence!

That Edward still should live-true, noble Prince.
Coufin, thou wert not wont to be fo dull.
Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead;
And I would have it fuddenly perform'd.
What fay'ft thou now? speak fuddenly, be brief.
Buck. Your Grace may do your pleasure.

K. Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes ; Say, have I thy confent that they fhall die?

Buck. Give me fome breath, fome little pause, dear lord, Before I pofitively fpeak in this :

I will refolve your Grace immediately.

[Exit Buck, Catef. The King is angry; fee, he gnaws his lip. K. Rich. I will converfe with iron-witted fools, And unrespective boys; none are for me, That look into me with confid❜rate eyes. High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect. Boy,

Page. My Lord.

K. Rich. Know'st thou not any, whom corrupting gold Would tempt unto a clofe exploit of death? Page. I know a difcontented Gentleman, Whofe humble means match not his haughty spirit: 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 Tirrel.

K. Rich. I partly know the man; go call him hither.

The deep-revolving witty Buckingham

[Exit Bay.

Só, again, in Fimon of Athens, fpeaking of Gold, he fays;

i.e. thou Trial, Touchstone.

«VOL. V.

O, thou Touch of Hearts!

M

No