King Richard III Part 17

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Hidest thou that forehead with a golden crown Where't should be branded, if that right were right, The slaughter of the Prince that ow'd that crown, And the dire death of my poor sons and brothers?

Tell me, thou villain slave, where are my children?

d.u.c.h.eSS. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother Clarence?

And little Ned Plantagenet, his son?

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Grey?

d.u.c.h.eSS. Where is kind Hastings?

KING RICHARD. A flourish, trumpets! Strike alarum, drums!

Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I say!

[Flourish. Alarums]

Either be patient and entreat me fair, Or with the clamorous report of war Thus will I drown your exclamations.

d.u.c.h.eSS. Art thou my son?

KING RICHARD. Ay, I thank G.o.d, my father, and yourself.

d.u.c.h.eSS. Then patiently hear my impatience.

KING RICHARD. Madam, I have a touch of your condition That cannot brook the accent of reproof.

d.u.c.h.eSS. O, let me speak!

KING RICHARD. Do, then; but I'll not hear.

d.u.c.h.eSS. I will be mild and gentle in my words.

KING RICHARD. And brief, good mother; for I am in haste.

d.u.c.h.eSS. Art thou so hasty? I have stay'd for thee, G.o.d knows, in torment and in agony.

KING RICHARD. And came I not at last to comfort you?

d.u.c.h.eSS. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my h.e.l.l.

A grievous burden was thy birth to me; Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; Thy school-days frightful, desp'rate, wild, and furious; Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous; Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and b.l.o.o.d.y, More mild, but yet more harmful-kind in hatred.

What comfortable hour canst thou name That ever grac'd me with thy company?

KING RICHARD. Faith, none but Humphrey Hour, that call'd your Grace To breakfast once forth of my company.

If I be so disgracious in your eye, Let me march on and not offend you, madam.

Strike up the drum.

d.u.c.h.eSS. I prithee hear me speak.

KING RICHARD. You speak too bitterly.

d.u.c.h.eSS. Hear me a word; For I shall never speak to thee again.

KING RICHARD. So.

d.u.c.h.eSS. Either thou wilt die by G.o.d's just ordinance Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror; Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish And never more behold thy face again.

Therefore take with thee my most grievous curse, Which in the day of battle tire thee more Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st!

My prayers on the adverse party fight; And there the little souls of Edward's children Whisper the spirits of thine enemies And promise them success and victory.

b.l.o.o.d.y thou art; b.l.o.o.d.y will be thy end.

Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend. Exit QUEEN ELIZABETH. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse Abides in me; I say amen to her.

KING RICHARD. Stay, madam, I must talk a word with you.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. I have no moe sons of the royal blood For thee to slaughter. For my daughters, Richard, They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens; And therefore level not to hit their lives.

KING RICHARD. You have a daughter call'd Elizabeth.

Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. And must she die for this? O, let her live, And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty, Slander myself as false to Edward's bed, Throw over her the veil of infamy; So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter, I will confess she was not Edward's daughter.

KING RICHARD. Wrong not her birth; she is a royal Princess.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. To save her life I'll say she is not so.

KING RICHARD. Her life is safest only in her birth.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. And only in that safety died her brothers.

KING RICHARD. Lo, at their birth good stars were opposite.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. No, to their lives ill friends were contrary.

KING RICHARD. All unavoided is the doom of destiny.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. True, when avoided grace makes destiny.

My babes were destin'd to a fairer death, If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life.

KING RICHARD. You speak as if that I had slain my cousins.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle cozen'd Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.

Whose hand soever lanc'd their tender hearts, Thy head, an indirectly, gave direction.

No doubt the murd'rous knife was dull and blunt Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart To revel in the entrails of my lambs.

But that stiff use of grief makes wild grief tame, My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes; And I, in such a desp'rate bay of death, Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft, Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom.

KING RICHARD. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise And dangerous success of b.l.o.o.d.y wars, As I intend more good to you and yours Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd!

QUEEN ELIZABETH. What good is cover'd with the face of heaven, To be discover'd, that can do me good?

KING RICHARD. advancement of your children, gentle lady.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads?

KING RICHARD. Unto the dignity and height of Fortune, The high imperial type of this earth's glory.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Flatter my sorrow with report of it; Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour, Canst thou demise to any child of mine?

KING RICHARD. Even all I have-ay, and myself and all Will I withal endow a child of thine; So in the Lethe of thy angry soul Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs Which thou supposest I have done to thee.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Be brief, lest that the process of thy kindness Last longer telling than thy kindness' date.

KING RICHARD. Then know, that from my soul I love thy daughter.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul.

KING RICHARD. What do you think?

QUEEN ELIZABETH. That thou dost love my daughter from thy soul.

So from thy soul's love didst thou love her brothers, And from my heart's love I do thank thee for it.

KING RICHARD. Be not so hasty to confound my meaning.

I mean that with my soul I love thy daughter And do intend to make her Queen of England.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Well, then, who dost thou mean shall be her king?

KING RICHARD. Even he that makes her Queen. Who else should be?

QUEEN ELIZABETH. What, thou?

KING RICHARD. Even so. How think you of it?

QUEEN ELIZABETH. How canst thou woo her?

KING RICHARD. That would I learn of you, As one being best acquainted with her humour.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. And wilt thou learn of me?

KING RICHARD. Madam, with all my heart.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Send to her, by the man that slew her brothers, A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave 'Edward' and 'York.' Then haply will she weep; Therefore present to her-as sometimes Margaret Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood- A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain The purple sap from her sweet brother's body, And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal.

If this inducement move her not to love, Send her a letter of thy n.o.ble deeds; Tell her thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence, Her uncle Rivers; ay, and for her sake Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne.

KING RICHARD. You mock me, madam; this is not the way To win your daughter.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. There is no other way; Unless thou couldst put on some other shape And not be Richard that hath done all this.

KING RICHARD. Say that I did all this for love of her.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Nay, then indeed she cannot choose but hate thee, Having bought love with such a b.l.o.o.d.y spoil.

KING RICHARD. Look what is done cannot be now amended.

Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, Which after-hours gives leisure to repent.

If I did take the kingdom from your sons, To make amends I'll give it to your daughter.

If I have kill'd the issue of your womb, To quicken your increase I will beget Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter.

A grandam's name is little less in love Than is the doating t.i.tle of a mother; They are as children but one step below, Even of your metal, of your very blood; Of all one pain, save for a night of groans Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow.

Your children were vexation to your youth; But mine shall be a comfort to your age.

The loss you have is but a son being King, And by that loss your daughter is made Queen.

I cannot make you what amends I would, Therefore accept such kindness as I can.

Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul Leads discontented steps in foreign soil, This fair alliance quickly shall can home To high promotions and great dignity.

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 th' aspiring flame Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the Princes With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys.

And when this arm of mine hath chastised 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 victoress, Caesar's Caesar.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. 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 t.i.tle shall I woo for thee That G.o.d, the law, my honour, and her love Can make seem pleasing to her tender years?