D. Buck.
Did you see the Duke?

L. Stan.
what D. my Lord?

D. Buck.
His Grace of Gloucester, did you see him?

L. Stan.
Not lately, my Lord—I hope no ill news.

D. Buck.
The worst that heart e're bore, or tongue can utter.
Edward the King! his Royal Brother's Dead.

L. Stan.
'Tis sad indeed—I wish by your impatience
To acquaint him tho you think it so to him. aside.
Did the King, my Lord, make any mention
Of a Protector for his Crown and Children?

D. Buck.
He did, Duke Richard has the care of both.

L. Stan.
That sad news you are afraid to tell him too. (aside.

D. Buck.
He'll spare no toile, I'm sure to fill his Place!

L. Stan.
Pray Heav'n he's not too diligent! (aside:
My Lord, is not that the Dutchess of York,
The King's Mother? coming I fear to visit him.

D. Buck.
'Tis she! little thinking what has befallen us. Enter Dutchess of York.

Dutch.
Good day, my Lords! How takes the King his Rest.

D. Buck.
Alas! Madam, too well! he sleeps for ever?

Dutch.
Dead!—Good Heav'n support me!

D. Buck.
Madam, 'twas my unhappy lot to hear
His last Departing Groans, and close his eyes.

Dutch.
Another taken from me too! why just Heav'n
Am I still left the last in life and woe?
‘First I bemoan'd a noble Husbands death,
‘Yet liv'd with looking on his Images.
‘But now my last support is gone, First Clarence,
Now Edward is forever taken from me.
Both Crutches now the unrelenting hand
Of Death has stricken from my feeble Arms
And I must now of force sink down with sorrow.

D. Buck.
Your youngest Son, the Noble Richard lives.
His love I know will feel his Mothers Cares,
And bring new comfort to your latter days.

Dutch.
'Twere new indeed! for yet of him I've none,
Unless a churlish disobedience may
Be counted from a Child a Mothers Comfort:
‘From his malicious grudge I know my Son,
‘His brother Clarence death was first contriv'd,
But may his Penitence find Heav'n's mercy.
Where is the Queen, my Lord?

D. Buc.
I left her with her kinsmen deep in Sorrow,
Who have with much adoe perswaded her
To leave the Body—Madam they are here. Enter the Queen attended with Rivers and Dorset, and others.

Queen.
Why do you thus oppose my grief, unless
To make me Rave, and Weep the faster? Ha!
My Mother too in Tears! Fresh Sorrow strikes
My heart, at sight of every Friend, that knew
My Edward living—O Mother! He's Dead!
Edward, my Lord, thy Son, our King is Dead.
O that my eyes cou'd weep away my Soul!
Then might follow worthy of his Hearse.

L. Stan.
Your Duty, Madam, of a Wife is Dead,
And now the Mother's only claims your care.
Think on the Prince your Son: send for him strait,
And let his Coronation clear your eyes.
Bury your griefs, in the dead Edward's Grave,
Revive your Joys on living Edward's Throne.

Queen.
Alas! That thought, but adds to my Afflictions.
New Tears for Edward gone, and fears for Edward living,
‘An helpless Child, and his Minority
‘Is in the Trust of his stern Uncle Gloucester,
A man that frowns on me, and all of mine. (Weeps.

D. Buck.
Judge not so hardly, Madam, of his love,
Your Son will find in him a Father's Care.

Enter Richard behind.

Rich.
Why ay!—These tears look well! sorrow's the mode,
And every one at Court must wear it now—
Withal my heart, I'll not be out of Fashion. (aside.

Queen.
My Lord, just Heav'n knows I never hated Richard,
But wou'd on any terms embrace his friendship.

D. Buck.
These words would make him weep,—I know him yours.
See where he comes in sorrow for our loss.

Rich.
My Lords,—good morrow—Cousin of Buckingham,
I am yours— (Weeping.

D. Buck.
Good morrow to your Grace.

Rich.
Methinks—
We meet, like men, that had forgot to speak.

D. Buck.
We may remember: But our argument
Is now too mournful to admit much talk.

Rich.
It is indeed! Peace be with him has made it so.
‘Sister! Take Comfort—Tis true we've all cause
‘To mourn the dimming of our shining Star:
But sorrow never cou'd revive the dead—
—And if it cou'd, hope wou'd prevent our tears,
So we must weep, because we weep in vain.
‘Madam, my Mother—I do cry your mercy.
‘My grief was blind—I did not see your Grace,
Most humbly on my knee I crave your Blessing.

Dutch.
Thou hast it, and may thy charitable
Heart, and Tongue love one another, may Heaven
Indow thy breast with meekness, and obedience. Rich.
Amen, and make me die a good old man,
That's the old Butt-end of a Mother's Blessing;
I marvel that her Grace did leave it out. (aside. D. Buck.
My Lords, I think 'twere fit, that now Prince Edward
Forthwith from Ludlow shou'd be sent for home,
In order to his Coronation.

Rich.
By all means, my Lords, come let's in to Counsel,
And appoint who shall be the messengers.
Madam, and you my Sister, please you go
‘To give your sentiments on this occasion?

Queen.
My Lord, your Wisdom needs no help from me,
My glad consent you have in all that's just:
Or for the peoples good, tho I suffer by't.

Rich.
Please you to retire, Madam, we shall propose
What you'll not think the peoples wrong, nor yours.

Queen.
May Heav'n prosper all your good intents. (Exit. with all but Buck. and Richard.

Rich.
Amen, with all my Heart. For mine's the Crown.
And is not that good one? ha! Pray'd she not well, Cousin?

D. Buck.
I hope she prophesied—You now stand Fair.

Rich.
Now by St. Paul, I feel it here! Methinks
The massy weight on't galls my laden Brow.
What think'st thou, Cousin, wer't not an easie matter
To get Lord Stanley's hand to help it on.

D. Buck.
‘My Lord, I doubt that for his Fathers sake,
‘He loves the Prince to well, he'll scarce be won
‘To any thing against him.

Rich.
Poverty the reward of Honest Fools
O'retake him for't! what thinkst thou then of Hastings?

D. Buck.
He shall be tri'd my Lord: I'll find out Catesby,
Who shall at subtle distance sound his thoughts,
But we must still suppose the worst may happen,
What if we find him cold in our design?

Rich.
Chop of his head.—Something we'll soon determine.
But haste, and find out Catesby,
That done, follow me to the Counsel Chamber;
We'll not be seen together much, nor have
It known that we confer in Private—Therefore
Away good Cousin.

D. Buck.
I am gone, My Lord. (Exit. Buck.

Rich.
Thus far we run before the wind—Let me see,
The Prince will soon be here—let him—the Crown!
O yes! he shall have twenty, Globes, and Scepters too
New ones made to play withall—But no Coronation!
No! nor no Court flies about him, no Kinsmen—
—Hold ye!—Where shall he keep his Court!—
—Ay!—the Tower. The end of the Second ACT.

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