King Richard III Part 15

Young Edward lives-think now what I would speak.

BUCKINGHAM. Say on, my loving lord.

KING RICHARD. Why, Buckingham, I say I would be King.

BUCKINGHAM. Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned lord.

KING RICHARD. Ha! am I King? 'Tis so; but Edward lives.

BUCKINGHAM. True, n.o.ble Prince.

KING RICHARD. O bitter consequence: That Edward still should live-true n.o.ble Prince!

Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull.

Shall I be plain? I wish the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds dead.

And I would have it suddenly perform'd.

What say'st thou now? Speak suddenly, be brief.

BUCKINGHAM. Your Grace may do your pleasure.

KING RICHARD. Tut, tut, thou art all ice; thy kindness freezes.

Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?

BUCKINGHAM. Give me some little breath, some pause, dear Lord, Before I positively speak in this.

I will resolve you herein presently. Exit CATESBY. [Aside to another] The King is angry; see, he gnaws his lip.

KING RICHARD. I will converse with iron-witted fools [Descends from the throne]

And unrespective boys; none are for me That look into me with considerate eyes.

High-reaching Buckingham grows circ.u.mspect.

Boy!

PAGE. My lord?

KING RICHARD. Know'st thou not any whom corrupting gold Will tempt unto a close exploit of death?

PAGE. I know a discontented gentleman Whose humble means match not his haughty spirit.

Gold were as good as twenty orators, And will, no doubt, tempt him to anything.

KING RICHARD. What is his name?

PAGE. His name, my lord, is Tyrrel.

KING RICHARD. I partly know the man. Go, call him hither, boy. Exit PAGE The deep-revolving witty Buckingham No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels.

Hath he so long held out with me, untir'd, And stops he now for breath? Well, be it so.

Enter STANLEY

How now, Lord Stanley! What's the news?

STANLEY. Know, my loving lord, The Marquis Dorset, as I hear, is fled To Richmond, in the parts where he abides. [Stands apart]

KING RICHARD. Come hither, Catesby. Rumour it abroad That Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick; I will take order for her keeping close.

Inquire me out some mean poor gentleman, Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' daughter- The boy is foolish, 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 To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me.

Exit CATESBY I must be married to my brother's daughter, Or else my kingdom stands on brittle gla.s.s.

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?

TYRREL. James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject.

KING RICHARD. Art thou, indeed?

TYRREL. Prove me, my gracious lord.

KING RICHARD. Dar'st'thou resolve to kill a friend of mine?

TYRREL. Please you; But I had rather kill two enemies.

KING RICHARD. 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 b.a.s.t.a.r.ds in the Tower.

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

KING RICHARD. Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrel.

Go, by this token. Rise, and lend thine ear. [Whispers]

There is no more but so: say it is done, And I will love thee and prefer thee for it.

TYRREL. I will dispatch it straight. Exit

Re-enter BUCKINGHAM

BUCKINGHAM. My lord, I have consider'd in my mind The late request that you did sound me in.

KING RICHARD. Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to Richmond.

BUCKINGHAM. I hear the news, my lord.

KING RICHARD. Stanley, he is your wife's son: well, look unto it.

BUCKINGHAM. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise, For which your honour and your faith is p.a.w.n'd: Th' earldom of Hereford and the movables Which you have promised I shall possess.

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

BUCKINGHAM. What says your Highness to my just request?

KING RICHARD. I do remember me: Henry the Sixth Did prophesy that Richmond should be King, When Richmond was a little peevish boy.

A king!-perhaps- BUCKINGHAM. My lord- KING RICHARD. How chance the prophet could not at that time Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him?

BUCKINGHAM. My lord, your promise for the earldom- KING RICHARD. Richmond! When last I was at Exeter, The mayor in courtesy show'd me the castle And call'd it Rugemount, at which name I started, Because a bard of Ireland told me once I should not live long after I saw Richmond.

BUCKINGHAM. My lord- KING RICHARD. Ay, what's o'clock?

BUCKINGHAM. I am thus bold to put your Grace in mind Of what you promis'd me.

KING RICHARD. Well, but o'clock?

BUCKINGHAM. Upon the stroke of ten.

KING RICHARD. Well, let it strike.

BUCKINGHAM. Why let it strike?

KING RICHARD. Because that like a Jack thou keep'st the stroke Betwixt thy begging and my meditation.

I am not in the giving vein to-day.

BUCKINGHAM. May it please you to resolve me in my suit.

KING RICHARD. Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein.

Exeunt all but Buckingham BUCKINGHAM. 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

SCENE 3.

London. The palace

Enter TYRREL

TYRREL. The tyrannous and b.l.o.o.d.y act is done, The most arch deed of piteous ma.s.sacre That ever yet this land was guilty of.

Dighton and Forrest, who I did suborn To do this piece of ruthless butchery, Albeit they were flesh'd villains, b.l.o.o.d.y dogs, Melted with tenderness and mild compa.s.sion, Wept like two children in their deaths' 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, And in their summer beauty kiss'd each other.

A book of prayers on their pillow lay; Which once,' quoth Forrest 'almost chang'd my mind; But, O, the devil'-there the villain stopp'd; 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 b.l.o.o.d.y King.

Enter KING RICHARD