But with his tim'rous dreams was ftill awak'd.
Befides, he hates me for my father Warwick;
And will, no doubt, fhortly be rid of me.

Queen. Poor heart, adieu, I pity thy complaining.
Anne. No more than with my foul I mourn for yours.
Dor. Farewel, thou woeful welcomer of glory!
Anne. Adieu, poor foul, that tak'ft thy leave of it!
Dut. Go thou to Richmond,and good fortune guide thee?
[To Dorfet.

Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee!

[To Anne.

Go thou to fanctuary, good thoughts poffefs thee!

[To the Queen.

I to my grave, where peace and reft lie with me!
Eighty odd years of forrow have I feen, (19)
And each hour's joy wrack'd with a week of teen.
Queen. Stay; yet look back, with me, unto the Tower.
Pity, you ancient ftones, thofe tender babes,
Whom envy hath immur'd within your walls!
Rough cradle for fuch little pretty ones!
Rude ragged nurfe! old fullen play-fellow,
For tender Princes; ufe my babies well!
So foolish forrow bids your ftones farewel.

(19) Eighty odd years of forrow I have feen,

[Exeunt.

And each hour's joy_wreck'd with a week of anguith.] This, anguish, is a word of Mr. Pope's adoption; for all the copies, that I have feen, read

wreck'd with a week of teen.

The poet certainly intended, that the old Dutchefs fhould conclude with a rhyme; and teen is a term which he chufes to ufe elsewhere. So, in his Tempeft.

-O, my heart bleeds

To think o' th' teen that I have turn'd you to,
Which is from my remembrance.

And in numberlefs other paffages,

SCENE changes to the Court.

Flourish of Trumpets. Enter Gloucefter as King, Buckingham, Catefby.

K. Rich. Tand all apart-Cousin of Buckingham,-. Buck. My gracious Sovereign !

K.Rich. Give me thy hand. Thus high, by thy advice, And thy affiftance, is King Richard feated: But shall we wear thefe glories for a day? Or fhall they laft, and we rejoice in them?

Buck. Still live they, and for ever let them last! K. Rich. Ah, Buckingham, now do I play the touch, To try if thou be current gold, indeed: (20)

Young Edward lives think now, what I would speak.
Buck. Say on, my loving Lord.

K.Rich. Why, Buckingham, I fay, I would be King.
Buck. Why fo you are, my thrice-renowned Liege.
K.Rich. Ha! am I King? 'tis fo-but Edward lives-
Buck. True, noble Prince.

K. Rich. O bitter confequence!

That Edward ftill fhould live-true, noble Prince.
Coufin, thou wert not wont to be fo dull..
Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead;
And I would have it fuddenly perform'd.
What fay'ft thou now? fpeak fuddenly, be brief.
Buck. Your Grace may do your pleasure.

K.Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes;

Say, have I thy confent that they shall die?

Buck. Give me fome breath, fome little paufe, dear Lord, Before I pofitively speak in this:

I will refolve your Grace immediately.

[Exit Buck.

(20) AD! Buckingham, now do I play the touch.] Mr. Warburton thinks, the technical term is abfolutely requifite here, and that the Poet wrote;

-Now do I ply the touch.

i. e. apply the touchstone: for that is meant by what he calls touch. So, again, in Timon of Athens, speaking of gold, he says;

-O, thou touch of hearts!

'i. e. thou trial, touchstone.

VOL. V.

Μ

Cates.

Catef. The King is angry; fee, he gnaws his lip.
K. Rich. I will converfe with iron-witted fools,
And unrespective boys; none are for me,
That look into me with confid❜rate eyes.

High-reaching Buckingham grows circumfpect.
Boy,-

Page. My Lord.

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

Page. I know a difcontented Gentleman,

Whofe humble means match not his haughty spirit:
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 Tirrel.

K. Rich. I partly know the man; go call him hither.

The deep-revolving witty Buckingham

[Exit Boy

No more fhall be the neighbour to my counfels.

Hath he fo long held out with me untir'd,
And ftops he now for breath? well, be it fo.

Enter Stanley.

How now, Lord Stanley, what's the news?
Stan. My Lord,

The Marquifs Dorfet, as I hear, is fled

To Richmond, in the parts where he abides.

K. Rich. Come hither, Catesby rumour it abroad, That Anne my wife is fick, and like to die.

I will take order for her keeping close.
Inquire me out fome mean-born Gentleman,
Whom I will marry trait to Clarence' daughter.
(The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.)

Look, how thou dream'ft I fay again, give out,
That Anne my Queen is fick, and like to die.
About it; for it ftands me much upon

To ftop all hopes, whofe growth may damage me.
I must be married to my brother's daughter,
Or else my kingdom ftands on brittle glass:
Murder her brothers, and then marry her!

Uncertain

Uncertain way of gain! but I am in
So far in blood, that fin will pluck on fin.
Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.

Is thy name Tirrel?

Enter Tirrel.

Tir. James Tirrel, and your most obedient fubject. K. Rich. Art thou, indeed?

Tir. Prove me, my gracious Lord.

[He takes him afide.

K. Rich. Dar't thou refolve to kill a friend of mine? Tir. Pleafe you, I'd rather kill two enemies. K,Rich. Why then thou haft it; two deep enemies, Foes to my reft, and my fweet fleep's disturbers, Are they, that I would have thee deal upon; Tirrel, I mean those baftards in the Tower.

Tir. Let me have open means to come to them, And foon I'll rid you from the fear of them.

K. Rich. Thou fing'ft fweet mufick. Hark, come hither, Tirrel;.

Go, by this token

rife, and lend thine ear

There is no more but fo

-fay, it is done,

And I will love thee and prefer thee for it.

Tir. I will dispatch it straight.

Re-enter Buckingham.

[Whispers.

[Exit.

Buck. My Lord, I have confider'd in my mind That late demand, that you did found me in.

K. Rich. Well, let that reft; Dorfet is fled to Richmond. Buck. I hear the news, my Lord.

K.Rich. Stanley, he is your wife's fon; well, look to it. Buck. My Lord, I claim the gift, my due by promife, For which your honour, and your faith is pawn'd; Th' Earldom of Hereford, and the moveables, Which you have promifed I fhall poffefs.

K. Rich: Stanley, look to your wife; if the convey Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.

Buck. What fays your Highnefs to my just requeft?
K. Rich. I do remember me

Henry the fixth

Did prophecy, that Richmond fhould be King,

M 2

When

When Richmond was a little peevish boy.

A King, perhaps
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 I was laft at Exeter,
The Mayor in curtefy fhewed me the castle,
And call'd it Rouge-mont, at which name I started ;
Because a bard of Ireland told me once,

I fhould not live long after I faw 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 promis'd me.

K. Rich. But what's o'clock ?

Buck. Upon the ftroke of ten.
K. Rich. Well, let it ftrike.

Buck. Why let it strike?

K.Rich. Becaufe, that, like a jack, thou keep'ft the stroke Betwixt thy begging and my meditation.

I am not in the giving vein to-day.

Buck. Why then refolve me whe'r you will, or no.
K.Rich. Thou troubleft me, I am not in the vein. [Exit.
Buck. Is it ev'n fo? repays he my deep fervice

With fuch contempt ? made I him King for this?
O, let me think on Haftings, and be gone
To Brecnock, while my fearful head is on.

Enter Tirrel.

Tir. The tyrannous and bloody act is done;
The most arch deed of piteous maffacre,
That ever yet this land was guilty of!
Dighton and Forrest, whom I did fuborn
To do this piece of ruthlefs butchery,
Albeit they were flefht villains, bloody dogs,
Melting with tendernefs and mild compaffion,
Wept like two children, in their death's fad ftory.
O thus (quoth Dighton) lay the gentle babes;
Thus, thus, (quoth Forrest) girdling one another

[Exit.