If thou had'st fear'd to break an oath by him,
The unity, the king thy brother made,

Had not been broken, nor my brother slain.
If thou had'st fear'd to break an oath by him,
The imperial metal, circling now thy head,
Had grac'd the tender temples of my child;
And both the princes had been breathing here,
Which now, two tender bed-fellows for dust,
Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms.
What canst thou swear by now?

K. Rich.

By the time to come. Q. Eliz. That thou hast wronged in the time o'er

past;

For I myself have many tears to wash
Hereafter time, for time past, wrong'd by thee.
The children live, whose parents thou hast slaughter'd,
Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age :
The parents live, whose children thou hast butcher'd,
Old barren plants, to wail it with their age.
Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast
Misus'd ere us'd, by times ill-us'd o'er-past.

K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and repent!
So thrive I in my dangerous attempt
Of hostile arms! myself myself confound!
Heaven, and fortune, bar me happy hours

Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy rest!
Be opposite all planets of good luck

To my proceeding, if, with pure heart's love,
Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,
I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter!
In her consists my happiness, and thine;
Without her, follows to myself, and thee,
Herself, the land, and many a christian soul,
Death, desolation, ruin, and decay :
It cannot be avoided, but by this;
It will not be avoided, but by this.
Therefore, dear mother, (I must call you so,)
Be the attorney of my love to her.

Plead what I will be, not what I have been;
Not my deserts, but what I will deserve :
Urge the necessity and state of times,
And be not peevish found in great designs.

Q. Eliz. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus ?
K. Rich. Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do good.
Q. Eliz. Shall I forget myself, to be myself?

K. Rich. Ay, if your self's remembrance wrong

yourself.

Q. Eliz. But thou didst kill my children.

K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I bury them: Where, in that nest of spicery, they shall breed Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.

Q. Eliz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? K. Rich. And be a happy mother by the deed. Q. Eliz. I go. Write to me very shortly, And you shall understand from me her mind.

K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss, and so farewell. [Kissing her. Exit Q. Elizabeth.

Relenting fool, and shallow, changing-woman!
How now? what news?

Enter RATCLIFF; CATESBY following.

Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast Rideth a puissant navy; to the shore Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, Unarm'd, and unresolv'd to beat them back : "Tis thought, that Richmond is their admiral; And there they hull, expecting but the aid Of Buckingham, to welcome them ashore.

K. Rich. 25 Some light-foot friend post to the duke

of Norfolk:

Ratcliff, thyself,-or Catesby; where is he?

Cate. Here, my good lord.

K. Rich.

Catesby, fly to the duke.

Cate. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. K. Rich. Ratcliff, come hither: Post to Salisbury; When thou com'st thither,-Dull unmindful villain, [To Catesby.

Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke? Cate. First, mighty liege, tell me your highness'

pleasure,

What from your grace I shall deliver to him.

K. Rich. O, true, good Catesby;-Bid him levy

straight

The greatest strength and power he can make,
And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.

Cate. I go.

[Erit.

Rat. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury?

K. Rich. Why, what would'st thou do there, before I go?

Rat. Your highness told me, I should post before. Enter STANLEY.

K. Rich. My mind is chang'd.-Stanley, what news with you?

Stan. None good, my liege, to please you with the hearing;

Nor none so bad, but well may be reported.

K. Rich. Heyday, a riddle! neither good, nor bad! What need'st thou run so many miles about, When thou may'st tell thy tale the nearest way?

Once more, what news?

Stan.

Richmond is on the seas.

K. Rich. There let him sink, and be the seas on

him!

White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there?

Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess. K. Rich. Well, as you guess?

Stan. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and

Morton,

He makes for England, here to claim the crown.
K. Rich. Is the chair empty? is the sword un-

sway'd?

Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd?
What heir of York is there alive, but we?

And who is England's king, but great York's heir ? Then, tell me, what makes he upon the seas ?

Stan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess. K. Rich. Unless for that he comes to be your liege, You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes. Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear.

Stan. No, mighty liege; therefore mistrust me not. K. Rich. Where is thy power then, to beat him

back?

Where be thy tenants, and thy followers ?
Are they not now upon the western shore,
Safe-cónducting the rebels from their ships?

Stan. No, my good lord, my friends are in the

north.

K. Rich. Cold friends to me: What do they in the north,

When they should serve their sovereign in the west? Stan. They have not been commanded, mighty king:

Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave,
I'll muster up my friends; and meet your grace,
Where, and what time, your majesty shall please.

K. Rich. Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with

Richmond:

I will not trust you, sir.
Stan.

Most mighty sovereign,

You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful; I never was, nor never will be false.

K. Rich. Well, go, muster men. But, hear you, leave behind