Imagens das páginas

Tirrel. If to have done the thing you gave in


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


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.


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 so bluntly?

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

And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welshmen, Is in the field, and still his power increases.

Glost. Morton with Richmond, touches me more near,

Than Buckingham, and his rash levy'd numbers.

But come, dangers retreat, when boldly they're confronted,

And dull delays lead impotence and fear;

Then fiery expedition raise my arm,

And fatal may it fall on crush'd rebellion!
Let's muster men-my counsel is my shield,
We must be brief, when traitors brave the field. [Exit.


A Court in the Tower.


Queen. Oh, my poor children!-Oh, my tender babes!

My unblown flowers, pluck'd by untimely hands:
If yet your gentle souls fly in the air,
And be not fix'd in doom perpetual,
Hover about me, with your airy wings,
And hear your mother's lamentation!

Why slept their guardian angels, when this deed was



Duch. of York. So many miseries have drain'd my


That my woe-weary'd tongue is still and mute;-
Why should calamity be full of words?

Queen. Let's give them scope; for though they

can't remove, Yet, do they ease, affliction.

Duch. of York. Why, then, let us be loud in exclamations,

To Richard, haste, and pierce him with our cries:
[Trumpet sounds a March.
Hark, his trumpet sounds !-this way he must pass.
Queen. Alas, I've not the daring to confront him!
Duch. of York. I have a mother's right-I'll force
him to hear me.

Enter GLOSTER and CATESBY, with Forces.
Trumpet sounds a March.

Glost. Who interrupts me, in my expedition ?
Duch. of York. Dost thou not know me? Art thou
not my son?

Glost. I cry your mercy, madam-is it you?
Duch. of York. Art thou my son?

Glost. Ay, I thank Heaven, my father, and

yourself. Duch. of York. Then I command thee, hear me. Glost. Madam, I have a touch of your condition, That cannot brook the accent of reproof.

Duch. of York. Stay, I'll be mild, and gentle, in my words.

Glost. And brief, good mother, for I am in haste. Duch. of York. Why, I have staid for thee, (just Heav'n knows)


In torment, and in agony.

Glost. And came not I at last, to comfort you? Duch. of York. No, on my soul! too well thou know'st it,

A grievous burden was thy birth to me,

Techy, and wayward, was thy infancy;

Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and stubborn;
Thy age confirm'd, most subtle, proud, and bloody!
Glost. If I am so disgracious in thy eye,

Let me march on, and not offend thee, madam;
Duch. of York. Yet stay, I charge thee, hear me.
Queen. If not, hear me; for I have wrongs will

Without a tongue.-Methinks, the very sight
Of me should turn thee into stone!

Where are my children, Gloster ?

Duch. of York. Where is thy brother, Clarence ? Queen. Where Hastings?

Duch. of York. Rivers?

Queen. Vaughan?

Duch. of York. Grey?

Glost. A flourish, trumpets; strike alarum, drums; Let not the Heav'ns hear these tell-tale women

Rail on the Heav'ns anointed!-Strike, I say!

[Alarm of Drums and Trumpets.

Either be patient, and entreat me fair,
Or, with the clamorous report of war,
Thus will I drown your exclamations.

Duch. of York. Then hear me, Heav'n! and Heav'n, at his latest hour,

Be deaf to him, as he is now to me!

Ere, from this war he turn a conqueror,

Ye Powers, cut off his dangerous thread of life,
Lest his black sins rise higher in account,
Than hell has pains to punish!

Mischance, and sorrow, wait thee to the field!
Heart's discontent, languid, and lean despair,
With all the hell of guilt, pursue thy steps, for ever!

[Exit. Queen. Though far more cause, yet much less pow

er to curse

Abides in me, I say amen to her.

Glost. Stay, madam, I would beg some words with


Queen. What canst thou ask, that I have now to grant?

Is't another son? Gloster, I have none.

Glost. You have a beauteous daughter, call'd Elizabeth

Queen. Must she die too?


Glost. For whose fair sake, I'll bring more good to


Than ever you, or yours, had from me, harm:
So, in the Lethe of thy angry soul,

Thou'lt drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs,
Which, thou supposest me the cruel cause of.

Queen. Be brief, lest, that the process of thy kind


Last longer telling, than thy kindness' date.

Glost. Know, then, that, from my soul, I love the fair

Elizabeth, and will, with your permission,

Seat her on the throne of England.

Queen. Alas, vain man! how canst thou woo her? Glost. That, I would learn of you,

As one, being best acquainted with her humour. Queen. If thou wilt learn of me, then woo her thus:

Send to her, by the man who kill'd her brothers,
A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrav'd,
Edward, and York-then, haply, will she weep:
On this, present her with an handkerchief,
Stain'd with their blood, to wipe her woeful eyes :
If this inducement move her not to love,
Read o'er the history of thy noble deeds;
Tell her, thy policy took off her uncles,
Clarence, Rivers, Grey; nay, and, for her sake,
Made quick conveyance with her dear aunt, Anne.
Glost. You mock me, madam; this is not the way
To win your daughter.

Queen. What shall I say?-Still to affront his love,
I fear, will but incense him to revenge;
And, to consent, I should abhor myself:-
Yet I may seemingly comply, and thus,
By sending Richmond word of his intent,
Shall gain some time, to let my child escape him.
It shall be so.


« AnteriorContinuar »