Imagens das páginas

With thinking eyes

High reaching Buckingham grows circumspect;
The best on't is, it may be done without him,
Tho' not so well, perhaps-had he consented,
Why, then the murder had been his, not mine.
We'll make a shift as 'tis-Come hither, Catesby:
Where's that same Tirrel, whom thou told'st me of?
Hast thou given him those sums of gold I order❜d?
Catesby. I have, my liege.

Glost. Give him this ring, and say, myself
Will bring him farther orders instantly.


The deep revolving Duke of Buckingham
No more shall be the neighbour to my councils;
Has he so long held out with me untir'd,
And stops he now for breath? Well, be it so.


How now, Lord Stanley, what's the news?
Stanley. I hear, my liege, the Lord Marquis of


Is fled to Richmond, now in Brittany.

Glost. Why, let him go, my lord: he may be spar'd.

Hark thee, Ratcliff, when saw'st thou Anne, my queen?

Is she still weak? has my physician seen her?
Ratcliff. He has my lord, and fears her mightily.
Glost. But he's exceeding skilful, she'll mend

Ratcliff. I hope she will, my lord.

Glost. And if she does, I have mistook my man! I must be married to my brother's daughter, At whom I know the Briton, Richmond, aims; And by that knot, looks proudly on the crown. But then to stain me with her brother's blood; Is that the way to woo the sister's love?

No matter what's the way-for while they live, My goodly kingdom's on a weak foundation. "Tis done, my daring heart's resolv'd-they're dead!


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

Glost, Well, let that rest-Dorset is fled to Richmond.

Buck. I have heard the news, my lord. Glost. Stanley, he's your near kinsman-well, look to him.

Buck. My lord, I claim that gift, my due by promise,

For which your honour and your faith's eng ag'd;
The earldom of Hereford, and those moveables,
Which you have promised I shall possess.

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

Buck. what says your highness to my just request?

Glost. I do remember me, Harry the Sixth,
When Richmond was a little, peevish boy,
Did prophesy, that Richmond should be king,
'Tis odd-a king, perhaps


Catesby. My lord, I have obey'd your highness' orders.

Buck. May it please you to resolve me in my suit?

Glost. Lead Tirrel to my closet, I'll meet him.
Buck. I beg your highness' ear, my lord.
Glost. I'm busy-thou troublest ine-I'm not i' th'



Buck. Oh patience, Heav'n! is't thus he pays my service?

Was it for this I rais'd him to the throne?
Oh! if the peaceful dead have any sense
Of the vile injuries they.bore while living,
Then sure the joyful souls of blood-suck'd Edward,
Henry, Clarence, Hastings, and all that through
His foul corrupted dealings have miscarried,
Will, from the walls of heav'n, in smiles look down,
To see this tyrant tumbling from his throne,
His fall unmourn'd, and bloody as their own!




An Apartment in the Tower.


Tirrel. Come, gentlemen,
Have you concluded on the means?

Forest. Smothering will make no noise, sir.
Tirrel. Let it be done i' th' dark-for should



Their young faces, who knows how far their looks
Of innocence may tempt you into pity?
Stand back-Lieutenant, have you brought the keys?


Lieut. I have them, sir.

Tirrel. Then here's your warrant to deliver them. [Giving a Ring. Licut What can this mean! why at this dead of night

To give them too! 'tis not for me to inquire. [Erit. Tirrel. Gentlemen, there lies your way.

[Exeunt severally.


The Presence Chamber.


Glost. ,'Would it were done! There is a busy something here, That foolish custom has made terrible, To the intent of evil deeds ? and nature too, As if she knew me womanish and weak, Tugs at my heart-strings with complaining cries, To talk me from my purpose-And then the thought of what men's tongues will

say, Of what their hearts must think ; To have no creature love me living, nor My memory when dead. Shall future ages, when these children's tale Is told, drop tears in pity of their hapless fate, And read with detestation, the misdeeds of Gloster. The crook-back'd tyrant, cruel, barbarous, And bloody? will they not say too, That to possess the crown, nor laws divine Nor human stopt my way?-- Why, let them say it; They can't but say I had the crown; I was not fool as well as villain.


Now, my Tirrel, how are the brats dispos'd ?
Say, am I happy? hast thou dealt upon them?


Tirrel. If to have done she thing you gave in

charge, Beget your happiness, then, sir, be happy, for it is

done. Glost. But didst thou see them dead ? Tirrel, I did, my lord. Glost. And bury'd, my good Tirrel ? Tirrel. In that, I thought to ask your grace's plea


Glost. I have it-I'll have them sure-get me a

coffin Full of holes--let them be both cramm'd into it; And hark thee, in the night tide, throw them down The Thames-once in, they'll find the way to the bot

Meantime, but think, how I may do thee good,
And be inheritor of thy desire.

Tirrel. I humbly thank your highness.
Glost. About it, strait, good Tirrel,
Tirrel. Conclude it done, my lord. [Exit.

Glost. Why, then my loudest fears are hush'd;
The sons of Edward have eternal rest,
And Anne, my wife, has bid this world good night;
While fair Elizabeth, my beauteous niece,
Like a new morn, lights onward to my wishes.


Catesby. My lord
Glost. Good news, or bad, that thou com'st in 50

Catesby. Bad news, my lord; Morton is fled to

Richmond, And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welsbmen, Is in the field, and still his

power increases. Glost. Morton with Richmond, touches me more

nèar, Than Buckingham, and his rash levy'd numbers.

« AnteriorContinuar »