But, God be thank'd, there is no need of me,
And much I need to help you, were there need:
The royal tree hath left us royal fruit,
Which, mellow'd by the ftealing hours of time,
Will well become the feat of majesty;
And make us, doubtlefs, happy by his reign.
On him I lay what you would lay on me,
The right and fortune of his happy ftars;
Which, God defend, that I fhould wring from him!
Buck. My Lord, this argues confcience in your
But the respects thereof are nice and trivial,
All circumftances well confidered.
You fay, that Edward is your brother's fon;
So fay we too, but not by Edward's wife:
For firft was he contract to Lady Lucy,
Your mother lives a witness to that vow;
And afterwards by fubftitute betroth'd
To Bona, fifter to the King of France.
Thefe both put off, a poor petitioner,
A care craz'd mother of a many children,
A beauty-waining, and diftreffed widow,
Ev'n in the afternoon of her best days,
Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye;
Seduc'd the pitch and height of all his thoughts
To bafe declenfion and loath'd bigamy.
By her, in his unlawful bed, he got
This Edward, whom our manners call the Prince.
More bitterly could I expoftulate,
Save that for reverence of fome alive,
I give a fparing limit to my tongue.
Then, good my Lord, take to your royal felf
This proffer'd benefit of dignity :
If not to bless us and the land withal,
Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry
From the corruption of abufing time,
Unto a lineal, true-derived course.
Mayor. Do, good my Lord, your citizens intreat you. Buck. Refufe not, mighty Lord, this proffer'd love. Catef. O make them joyful, grant their lawful fuit. Glo. Alas, why would you heap thefe cares on me?
I am unfit for ftate and majesty.
I do befeech you take it not amifs
I cannot, nor I will not yield to you.
Buck. If you refufe it, as in love and zeal,
Loth to depofe the child, your brother's fon,
(As well we know your tenderness of heart,
And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,
Which we have noted in you to your kindred,
And equally, indeed, to all eftates)
Yet know, whe'er you accept our fuit or no,
Your brother's fon fhail never reign our King ;
But we will plant fome other in the throne,
To the difgrace and downfall of your house:
And in this refolution here we leave you.
Come, citizens, we will intreat no more.
[Exeunt.
Catef. Call them again, fweet Prince, accept their fuit :
If you deny them, all the land will rue it.
Glo. Will you
enforce me to a world of cares?
Call them again; I am not made of ftone,
But penetrable to your kind entreaties ;
Albeit againft my confcience and my foul.
Re-enter Buckingham, and the rest.
Coufin of Buckingham, and fage, grave men,
Since you will buckle fortune on my back
To bear her burden, whether I will or no,
I must have patience to endure the load.
But if black fcandal, or foul-fac'd reproach
Attend the fequel of your impofition,
Your mere enforcement fhall acquittance me
From all the impure blots and stains thereof.
For God doth know, and you may partly fee,
How far I am from the defire of this.
Mayor. God bless your Grace! 'we fee it, and will fay it.
Glo. In faying fo, you shall but fay the truth.
Buck. Then I falute you with this royal title,
Long live King Richard, England's worthy King!
All. Amen.
Buck. To-morrow may it please you to be crown'd ? Gle. Ev'n when you please, for you will have it fo
Buck. To-morrow then we will attend your Grace, And fo moft joyfully we take our leave.
Glo. Come, let us to our holy work again. Farewel, my coufin; farewel, gentle friends. [Exeunt.
Enter the Queen, Dutchess of York, and Marquis of Dorfet, at one Door; Anne, Dutchess of Glocefter, leading Clarence's young daughter, at the other.
HO meets us here? my niece Plantagenet,
Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Glo'fter? (18) 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 so fast ?
(18) Who meets us bere? my niece Plantagenet,
Led in the band of her kind aunt of Glo'fter?] Here is a manifeft intimation, that the Dutchess of Glo'fter leads in fome body 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 grandchildren are frequently call'd nephews.In like manner the Latins us'd their Nepos and Neptis (as they did likewife Nepotes in a greater latitude, to fignify defcendants in general.
Sive neglectum genus, & Nepotes,
Refpicis autor.
So, in Othello, Iago fays to Brabantio, when his daughter was run away with the Moor.
You'll have your daughter cover'd with a Barbary horfe; you'll have your nephews neigh to you, &c.
Anne. No farther than the Tower; and, as I guess, Upon the like devotion as yourselves,
To gratulate the gentle Princes there.
Queen. Kind filter, thanks; we'll enter all together.
Enter the Lieutenant.
And in good time here the Lieutenant comes.
Master Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave.
How doth the Prince, and my young fon of York?
Lieu. Right well, dear Madam; by your patience,
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. [Exit Lieu
Stan. Let me but meet you, Ladies, one hour hence,
And I'll falute your Grace of York as mother
And rev'rend looker on of two fair Queens.
Come, Madam, you must ftraight to Westminster,
There to be crowned Richard's royal Queen.
Queen. Ah, cut my lace afunder,
That my pent heart may have fome scope to beat,
Or else I fwoon with this dead-killing news.
Anne. Defpightful tidings, O unpleafing news!
Dor. Be of good cheer: 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 outftrip 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.
Stan. Full of wife care is this your counsel, 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 not ta'en tardy by unwife delay.
Dutch. O ill-difperfing wind of misery!
O my accurfed womb, the bed of death!
A cockatrice haft thou hatch'd to the world,
Whofe unavoided eye is murderous.
Stan. Come, Madam, come, I in all hafte was fent.
Anne. And I with all unwillingness will go.
O, would to God, that the inclusive verge
Of golden metal, that must round my brow,
Were red-hot steel, to fear me to the brain!
Anointed let me be with deadly venom,
And die, ere men can fay, God 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 coarfe;
When scarce the blood was well wafh'd from his hands,
Which iflu'd from my other angel husband,
And that dear Saint, which then I weeping follow'd:
O when, I fay, I look'd on Richard's face,
This was my with; "be thou, quoth I, accurs'd,
"For making me, so 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 !"
Loe, 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 t
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,
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