K. Rich.
Stand all apart. Cousin of Buckingham!

Buck.
My gracious sovereign? ^note

K. Rich.
Give me thy hand. [Here he ascendeth his throne. ^note] Thus high, by thy advice
And thy assistance, is king Richard seated: ^note
But shall we wear these honours ^note for a day?
Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?

Buck.
Still live they and for ^note ever may they ^note last!

K. Rich.
O ^note Buckingham, now do I ^note play ^note the touch,
To try if thou be current gold indeed:
Young Edward lives: think now what I would say ^note.

Buck.
Say on, my loving lord ^note.

K. Rich.
Why, Buckingham, I say, I would be king.

Buck.
Why, so you are, my thrice renowned ^note liege ^note.

K. Rich.
Ha! am I king ^note? 'tis so: but Edward lives.

Buck.
True, noble prince.

K. Rich.
O bitter consequence,
That Edward still should live! ‘True ^note, noble prince!’
Cousin, thou wert ^note not wont to be so dull:
Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead;
And I would have it suddenly perform'd.
What sayest thou? ^note speak suddenly; be brief.

Buck.
Your grace may do your pleasure.

K. Rich.
Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezeth ^note:
Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?

Buck.
Give me some breath, some little pause, my lord ^note,
Before I positively speak herein ^note:
I will resolve your grace immediately ^note. [Exit ^note.

Cate. [Aside to a stander by. ^note]
The king is angry: see, he bites the ^note lip. ^note

K. Rich.
I will converse with iron-witted ^note fools
And unrespective boys: none are for me
That look into me with considerate eyes:
High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect.
Boy ^note!

Page. ^note
My lord ^note?

K. Rich.
Know'st thou not any whom corrupting gold
Would ^note tempt unto a close exploit of death?

Page.
My lord, ^note I know a discontented gentleman,
Whose humble means match not his haughty mind ^note:
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 Tyrrel ^note.

K. Rich.
I partly know the man: go, call him hither. Exit Page. ^note
The deep-revolving ^note witty Buckingham
No more shall be the neighbour to my counsel ^note:
Hath he so long held out with me untired,
And stops he now for breath? ^note Enter Stanley. ^note
How now! what news with you? ^note

Stan.
My lord, I hear the Marquis Dorset's fled
To Richmond, in those parts beyond the sea
Where he abides. [Stands apart. ^note

K. Rich.
Catesby!

Cate.
My lord?

K. Rich.
Rumour it ^note abroad ^note
That Anne, my wife, is sick and like to die:
I will take order for her keeping close.
Inquire me out some mean-born ^note gentleman,
Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' ^note daughter:
The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.
Look, how thou dream'st ^note! I say again, give out

That Anne my wife ^note 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. ^note
I must be married to my brother's ^note daughter,
Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass.
Murder her brothers ^note, and then marry her!
Uncertain way of gain! But I am in
So far in blood that sin will pluck ^note on sin:
Tear-falling ^note pity dwells not in this eye. Re-enter ^note Page, with Tyrrel.
Is thy name Tyrrel?

Tyr.
James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject. ^note

K. Rich.
Art thou, indeed?

Tyr.
Prove me, my gracious sovereign ^note.

K. Rich.
Darest thou resolve to kill a friend of mine?

Tyr.
Ay, my lord;
But I had ^note rather kill two enemies ^note.

K. Rich.
Why, there ^note thou hast it: two ^note deep enemies,
Foes to my rest and ^note my sweet sleep's ^note disturbers ^note
Are they that I would have thee deal upon:
Tyrrel, I mean those bastards in the Tower.

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

K. Rich.
Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come ^note hither, Tyrrel ^note:

Go, by this ^note token: rise, and lend thine ear: [Whispers. ^note
There is ^note no more but so: say it is ^note done,
And I will love thee, and prefer thee too ^note.

Tyr.
'Tis done, my gracious ^note lord ^note.

K. Rich.
Shall we hear from thee, Tyrrel, ere we sleep.

Tyr.
Ye shall, my lord ^note. ^note [Exit. ^note Re-enter ^note Buckingham.

Buck.
My lord, I have consider'd ^note in my mind
The late demand ^note that you did sound me in.

K. Rich.
Well, let that pass ^note. Dorset is fled to Richmond.

Buck.
I hear that ^note news, my lord.

K. Rich.
Stanley, he is your wife's son ^note: well, look to it ^note.

Buck.
My lord, I claim your ^note gift, my due by promise,
For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd;
The earldom of Hereford ^note and the moveables
The which you promised I should ^note possess.

K. Rich.
Stanley, look to your wife: if she ^note convey
Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.

Buck.
What says your highness to my just demand ^note?

K. Rich.
As I remember ^note, Henry the Sixth
Did prophesy that Richmond should be king,
When Richmond was a little peevish boy.
A king, perhaps, perhaps,— ^note

Buck.
My lord!

K. Rich.
How chance the prophet could not at that time
Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him?

Buck.
My lord, your promise for the earldom,—

K. Rich.
Richmond! When last I was at Exeter,
The mayor in courtesy show'd ^note me the castle,
And call'd it Rougemont ^note: at which name I started,
Because a bard ^note of Ireland told me once,
I should not live long after I saw Richmond.

Buck.
My lord!

K. Rich.
Ay, what's o'clock?

Buck.
I am thus bold to put your grace in mind
Of what you promised me.

K. Rich.
Well, ^note but what's o'clock?

Buck.
Upon the stroke of ten.

K. Rich.
Well, let it strike.

Buck.
Why let it strike?

K. Rich.
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. ^note

Buck.
Why, then resolve me whether ^note you will or no. ^{note note}

R. Rich.
Tut, tut ^note,
Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein ^note. [Exeunt ^note all but Buckingham.

Buck.
Is it even so? ^note rewards ^note he my true ^note service
With such deep ^note 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.

^note

Previous section

Next section