Nay, then indeed she cannot chose but hate thee,
Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.
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KING RICHARD
Look what is done cannot be now amended:
Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,
Which after-hours gives leisure to repent.
If I did take the kingdom from your sons,
To make amends I’ll give it to your daughter;
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If I have kill’d the issue of your womb,
To quicken your increase, I will beget
Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter.
A grandam’s name is little less in love
Than is the doting title of a mother;
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They are as children but one step below;
Even of your metal, of your very blood;
Of all one pain, save for a night of groans
Endur’d of her, for whom you bid like sorrow.
Your children were vexation to your youth,
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But mine shall be a comfort to your age;
The loss you have is but a son being King;
And by that loss your daughter is made Queen.
I cannot make you what amends I would:
Therefore accept such kindness as I can.
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Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul
Leads discontented steps in foreign soil,
This fair alliance quickly shall call home
To high promotions and great dignity.
The King that calls your beauteous daughter wife,
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Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother;
Again shall you be mother to a king,
And all the ruins of distressful times
Repair’d with double riches of content.
What! We have many goodly days to see.
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The liquid drops of tears that you have shed
Shall come again, transform’d to orient pearl,
Advantaging their loan with interest
Of ten times double gain of happiness.
Go then, my mother; to thy daughter go:
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Make bold her bashful years with your experience;
Prepare her ears to hear a wooer’s tale;
Put in her tender heart th’aspiring flame
Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the Princess
With the sweet, silent hours of marriage joys,
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And when this arm of mine hath chastised
The petty rebel, dull-brain’d Buckingham,
Bound with triumphant garlands will I come
And lead thy daughter to a conqueror’s bed;
To whom I will retail my conquest won,
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And she shall be sole victoress, Caesar’s Caesar.
ELIZABETH
What were I best to say? Her father’s brother
Would be her lord? Or shall I say her uncle?
Or he that slew her brothers and her uncles?
Under what title shall I woo for thee,
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That God, the law, my honour, and her love
Can make seem pleasing to her tender years?
KING RICHARD
Infer fair England’s peace by this alliance.
ELIZABETH
Which she shall purchase with still-lasting war.
KING RICHARD
Tell her the King, that may command, entreats.
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ELIZABETH
That, at her hands, which the King’s King forbids.
KING RICHARD
Say she shall be a high and mighty queen.
ELIZABETH To vail the title, as her mother doth.
KING RICHARD Say I will love her everlastingly.
ELIZABETH But how long shall that title ‘ever’ last?
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KING RICHARD
Sweetly in force, until her fair life’s end.
ELIZABETH
But how long fairly shall her sweet life last?
KING RICHARD
As long as heaven and nature lengthens it.
ELIZABETH As long as hell and Richard likes of it.
KING RICHARD Say I, her sovereign, am her subject low.
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ELIZABETH
But she, your subject, loathes such sovereignty.
KING RICHARD Be eloquent in my behalf to her.
ELIZABETH An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.
KING RICHARD Then plainly to her tell my loving tale.
ELIZABETH Plain and not honest is too harsh a style.
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KING RICHARD
Your reasons are too shallow and too quick.
ELIZABETH O no, my reasons are too deep and dead:
Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves.
KING RICHARD
Harp not on that string, madam; that is past.
ELIZABETH
Harp on it still shall I, till heart-strings break.
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KING RICHARD
Now by my George, my Garter, and my crown –
ELIZABETH
Profan’d, dishonour’d, and the third usurp’d.
KING RICHARD I swear –
ELIZABETH By nothing, for this is no oath:
Thy George, profan’d, hath lost his holy honour;
Thy Garter, blemish’d, pawn’d his knightly virtue;
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Thy crown, usurp’d, disgrac’d his kingly glory.
If something thou wouldst swear to be believ’d,
Swear then by something that thou hast not wrong’d.
KING RICHARD Now, by the world –
ELIZABETH ’Tis full of thy foul wrongs.
KING RICHARD My father’s death –
ELIZABETH Thy life hath it dishonour’d.
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KING RICHARD Then by my self –
ELIZABETH Thy self is self-misus’d.
KING RICHARD Why then, by God –
ELIZABETH God’s wrong is most of all:
If thou didst fear to break an oath with Him,
The unity the King my husband made
Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers died;
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If thou hadst fear’d to break an oath by Him,
Th’imperial metal circling now thy head
Had grac’d the tender temples of my child,
And both the Princes had been breathing here,
Which now – two tender bed-fellows for dust –
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Thy broken faith hath made the prey for worms.
What can’st thou swear by now?
KING RICHARD The time to come!
ELIZABETH
That thou hast wronged in the time o’erpast:
For I myself have many tears to wash
Hereafter time, for time past wrong’d by thee.
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The children live whose fathers thou hast slaughter’d:
Ungovern’d youth, to wail it in their age;
The parents live whose children thou hast butcher’d:
Old barren plants, to wail it with their age.
Swear not by time to come, for that thou hast
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Misus’d, ere us’d, by times ill-us’d o’erpast.
KING RICHARD As I intend to prosper and repent,
So thrive I in my dangerous affairs
Of hostile arms! Myself myself confound!
God and fortune, bar me happy hours!
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Day, yield me not thy light, nor, night, thy rest!
Be opposite, all planets of good luck,
To my proceeding if with dear heart’s love,
Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,
I tender not thy beauteous, princely daughter.
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In her consists my happiness and thine;
Without her follows to myself, and thee,
Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul,
Death, desolation, ruin, and decay.
It cannot be avoided but by this;
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It will not be avoided but by this.
Therefore, dear mother – I must call you so –
Be the attorney of my love to her;
Plead what I will be, not what I have been;
Not my deserts, but what I will deserve.
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Urge the necessity and state of times,
And be not peevish found in great designs.
ELIZABETH Shall I be tempted of the devil thus?
KING RICHARD Ay, if the devil tempt you to do good.
ELIZABETH Shall I forget myself to be myself?
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KING RICHARD
Ay, if your self’s remembrance wrong yourself.
ELIZABETH Yet thou didst kill my children.
KING RICHARD
But in your daughter’s womb I bury them,
Where, in that nest of spicery, they will breed
Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.
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ELIZABETH Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?
KING RICHARD And be a happy mother by the deed.
ELIZABETH I go. Write to me very shortly,
And you shall understand from me her mind.
KING RICHARD
Bear her my true love’s kiss; [Kisses her]
and so farewell.
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Exit Elizabeth
Relenting fool, and shallow, changing woman!
Enter RATCLIFFE.
How now, what news?
RATCLIFFE
Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast
Rideth a puissant navy; to our shores
Throng many doubtful, hollow-hearted friends,
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Unarm’d, and unresolv’d to beat them back.
’Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral;
And there they hull, expecting but the aid
Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore.
KING RICHARD
Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Norfolk.
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Ratcliffe, thyself – or Catesby – where is he?
CATESBY Here, my good lord.
KING RICHARD Catesby, fly to the Duke.
CATESBY I will, my lord, with all convenient haste.
KING RICHARD
Ratcliffe, come hither. Post to Salisbury.
When thou com’st thither –
[to Catesby] Dull unmindful villain!
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Why stay’st thou here and go’st not to the Duke?
CATESBY
First, mighty liege, tell me your Highness’ pleasure,
What from your Grace I shall deliver to him.
KING RICHARD
O, true, good Catesby! Bid him levy straight
The greatest strength and power that he can make,
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And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.
CATESBY I go. Exit.
RATCLIFFE
What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury?
KING RICHARD
Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go?
RATCLIFFE
Your Highness told me I should post before.
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KING RICHARD My mind is chang’d.
Enter STANLEY, EARL OF DERBY.
Stanley, what news with you?
STANLEY
None good, my liege, to please you with the hearing;
Nor none so bad but well may be reported.
KING RICHARD
Hoyday, a riddle! Neither good nor bad –
What need’st thou run so many miles about
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When thou mayst tell thy tale the nearest way?
Once more, what news?
STANLEY Richmond is on the seas.
KING RICHARD
There let him sink, and the seas on him –
White-liver’d runagate! What doth he there?
STANLEY I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.
465
KING RICHARD Well, as you guess?
STANLEY
Stirr’d up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton,
He makes for England, here to claim the crown.
KING RICHARD
Is the chair empty? Is the sword unsway’d?
Is the King dead? The empire unpossess’d?
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What heir of York is there alive but we?
And who is England’s King but great York’s heir?
Then tell me, what makes he upon the seas!
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 320