The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: r4r - Histories, p. 183

Left Column


The Life and Death of Richard the Third.
[1195]
Who sued to me for him? Who (in my wrath) Kneel'd and my feet, and bid me be aduis'd? Who spoke of Brother‑hood? who spoke of loue? Who told me how the poore soule did forsake The mighty Warwicke, and did fight for me?
[1200]
Who told me in the field at Tewkesbury, When Oxford had me downe, he rescued me: And said deare Brother liue, and be a King? Who told me, when we both lay in the Field, Frozen (almost) to death, how he did lap me
[1205]
Euen in his Garments, and did giue himselfe (All thin and naked) to the numbe cold night? All this from my Remembrance, brutish wrath Sinfully pluckt, and not a man of you Had so much grace to put it in my minde.
[1210]
But when your Carters, or your wayting Vassalls Haue done a drunken Slaugh ter, and defac'd The precious Image of our deere Redeemer, You straight are on your knees for Pardon, pardon, And I (vniustly too) must grant it you.
[1215]
But for my Brother, not a man would speake, Nor I (vngracious) speake vnto my selfe For him poore Soule. The proudest of you all, Haue bin beholding to him in his life: Yet none of you, would once begge for his life.
[1220]
O God! I feare thy iustice will take hold On me, and you; and mine, and yours for this. Come Hastings helpe me to my Closset. Ah poore Clarence.
Exeunt some with K. & Q ueen. Rich. This is the fruits of rashnes: Markt you not,
[1225]
How that the guilty Kindred of the Queene Look'd pale, when they did heare of Clarence death. O! they did vrge it still vnto the King, God will reuenge it. Come Lords will you go, To comfort Edward with our company.
Buc.
[1230]
We wait vpon your Grace.
exeunt.
Scena Secunda. [Act 2, Scene 2] Enter the old Dutchesse of Yorke, with the two children of Clarence. This speech is conventionally attributed to Boy. Edw. Good Grandam tell vs, is our Father dead? Dutch. No Boy. Daugh. Why do weepe so oft? And beate your Brest? And cry, O Clarence, my vnhappy Sonne. Boy.
[1235]
Why do you looke on vs and shake your head, And call vs Orphans, Wretches, Castawayes, If that our Noble Father were aliue?
Dut. My pretty Cosins, you mistake me both, I do lament the sicknesse of the King,
[1240]
As loath to lose him, not your Fathers death: It were lost sorrow to waile one that's lost.
Boy. Then you conclude, (my Grandam) he is dead: The King mine Vnckle is too blame for it. God will reuenge it, whom I will importune
[1245]
With earnest prayers, all to that effect.
Daugh. And so will I. Dut. Peace children peace, the King doth loue you wel. Incapeable, and shallow Innocents, You cannot guesse who caus'd your Fathers death. Boy.
[1250]
Grandam we can: for my good Vnkle Gloster

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Right Column


Told me, the King prouok'd to it by the Queene, Deuis'd impeachments to imprison him; And when my Vnckle told me so, he wept, And pittied me, and kindly kist my cheeke:
[1255]
Bad me rely on him, as on my Father, And he would loue me deerely as a childe.
Dut. Ah! that Deceit should steale such gentle shape, And with a vertuous Vizor hide deepe vice. He is my sonne, I, and therein my shame,
[1260]
Yet from my dugges, he drew not this deceit.
Boy. Thinke you my Vnkle did dissemble Grandam? Dut. I Boy. Boy. I cannot thinke it. Hearke, what noise is this? Enter the Queene with her haire about her ears, Riuers & Dorset after her. Qu. Ah! who shall hinder me to waile and weepe?
[1265]
To chide my Fortune, and torment my Selfe. Ile ioyne with blacke dispaire against my Soule, And to my selfe, become an enemie.
Dut. What meanes this Scene of rude impatience? Qu. To make an act of Tragicke violence.
[1270]
Edward my Lord, thy Sonne, our King is dead. Why grow the Branches, when the Roote is gone? Why wither not the leaues that want their sap? If you will liue, Lament: if dye, be breefe, That our swift‑winged Soules may catch the Kings,
[1275]
Or like obedient Subiects follow him, To his new Kingdome of nere‑changing night.
Dut. Ah so much interest haue in thy sorrow, As I had Title in thy Noble Husband: I haue bewept a worthy Husbands death,
[1280]
And liu'd with looking on his Images: But now two Mirrors of his Princely semblance, Are crack'd in pieces, by malignant death, And I for comfort, haue but one false Glasse, That greeues me, when I see my shame in him.
[1285]
Thou art a Widdow: yet thou art a Mother, And hast the comfort of thy Children left, But death hath snatch'd my Husband from mine Armes, And pluckt two Crutches from my feeble hands, Clarence, and Edward. O, what cause haue I,
[1290]
(Thine being but a moity of my moane) To ouer‑go thy woes, and drowne thy cries.
Boy. Ah Aunt! you wept not for our Fathers death: How can we ayde you with our Kindred teares? Daugh. Our fatherlesse distresse was left vnmoan'd,
[1295]
Your widdow‑dolour, likewise be vnwept.
Qu. Giue me no helpe in Lamentation, I am not barren to bring forth complaints: All Springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, That I being gouern'd by the waterie Moone,
[1300]
May send forth plenteous teares to drowne the World. Ah, for my Husband, for my deere Lord Edward.
Chil. Ah for our Father, for our deere Lord Clarence. Dut. Alas for both, both mine Edward and Clarence. Qu. What stay had I but Edward, and hee's gone? Chil.
[1305]
What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone.
Dut. What stayes had I, but they? and they are gone. Qu. Was neuer widdow had so deere a losse. Chil. Were neuer Orphans had so deere a losse. Dut. Was neuer Mother had so deere a losse.
[1310]
Alas! I am the Mother of these Greefes, Their woes are parcell'd, mine is generall. She for an Edward weepes, and so do I: I

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Scena Secunda. [Act 2, Scene 2] Enter the old Dutchesse of Yorke, with the two children of Clarence. This speech is conventionally attributed to Boy. Edw. Good Grandam tell vs, is our Father dead? Dutch. No Boy. Daugh. Why do weepe so oft? And beate your Brest? And cry, O Clarence, my vnhappy Sonne. Boy.
[1235]
Why do you looke on vs and shake your head, And call vs Orphans, Wretches, Castawayes, If that our Noble Father were aliue?
Dut. My pretty Cosins, you mistake me both, I do lament the sicknesse of the King,
[1240]
As loath to lose him, not your Fathers death: It were lost sorrow to waile one that's lost.
Boy. Then you conclude, (my Grandam) he is dead: The King mine Vnckle is too blame for it. God will reuenge it, whom I will importune
[1245]
With earnest prayers, all to that effect.
Daugh. And so will I. Dut. Peace children peace, the King doth loue you wel. Incapeable, and shallow Innocents, You cannot guesse who caus'd your Fathers death. Boy.
[1250]
Grandam we can: for my good Vnkle Gloster Told me, the King prouok'd to it by the Queene, Deuis'd impeachments to imprison him; And when my Vnckle told me so, he wept, And pittied me, and kindly kist my cheeke:
[1255]
Bad me rely on him, as on my Father, And he would loue me deerely as a childe.
Dut. Ah! that Deceit should steale such gentle shape, And with a vertuous Vizor hide deepe vice. He is my sonne, I, and therein my shame,
[1260]
Yet from my dugges, he drew not this deceit.
Boy. Thinke you my Vnkle did dissemble Grandam? Dut. I Boy. Boy. I cannot thinke it. Hearke, what noise is this? Enter the Queene with her haire about her ears, Riuers & Dorset after her. Qu. Ah! who shall hinder me to waile and weepe?
[1265]
To chide my Fortune, and torment my Selfe. Ile ioyne with blacke dispaire against my Soule, And to my selfe, become an enemie.
Dut. What meanes this Scene of rude impatience? Qu. To make an act of Tragicke violence.
[1270]
Edward my Lord, thy Sonne, our King is dead. Why grow the Branches, when the Roote is gone? Why wither not the leaues that want their sap? If you will liue, Lament: if dye, be breefe, That our swift‑winged Soules may catch the Kings,
[1275]
Or like obedient Subiects follow him, To his new Kingdome of nere‑changing night.
Dut. Ah so much interest haue in thy sorrow, As I had Title in thy Noble Husband: I haue bewept a worthy Husbands death,
[1280]
And liu'd with looking on his Images: But now two Mirrors of his Princely semblance, Are crack'd in pieces, by malignant death, And I for comfort, haue but one false Glasse, That greeues me, when I see my shame in him.
[1285]
Thou art a Widdow: yet thou art a Mother, And hast the comfort of thy Children left, But death hath snatch'd my Husband from mine Armes, And pluckt two Crutches from my feeble hands, Clarence, and Edward. O, what cause haue I,
[1290]
(Thine being but a moity of my moane) To ouer‑go thy woes, and drowne thy cries.
Boy. Ah Aunt! you wept not for our Fathers death: How can we ayde you with our Kindred teares? Daugh. Our fatherlesse distresse was left vnmoan'd,
[1295]
Your widdow‑dolour, likewise be vnwept.
Qu. Giue me no helpe in Lamentation, I am not barren to bring forth complaints: All Springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, That I being gouern'd by the waterie Moone,
[1300]
May send forth plenteous teares to drowne the World. Ah, for my Husband, for my deere Lord Edward.
Chil. Ah for our Father, for our deere Lord Clarence. Dut. Alas for both, both mine Edward and Clarence. Qu. What stay had I but Edward, and hee's gone? Chil.
[1305]
What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone.
Dut. What stayes had I, but they? and they are gone. Qu. Was neuer widdow had so deere a losse. Chil. Were neuer Orphans had so deere a losse. Dut. Was neuer Mother had so deere a losse.
[1310]
Alas! I am the Mother of these Greefes, Their woes are parcell'd, mine is generall. She for an Edward weepes, and so do I: I for a Clarence weepes, so doth not shee: These Babes for Clarence weepe, so do not they.
[1315]
Alas! you three, on me threefold distrest: Power all your teares, I am your sorrowes Nurse, And I will pamper it with Lamentation.
Dor. Comfort deere Mother, God is much displeas'd, That you take with vnthankfulnesse his doing.
[1320]
In common worldly things, 'tis call'd vngratefull, With dull vnwillingnesse to repay a debt, Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent: Much more to be thus opposite with heauen, For it requires the Royall debt it lent you.
Riuers.
[1325]
Madam, bethinke you like a carefull Mother Of the young Prince your sonne: send straight for him, Let him be Crown'd, in him your comfort liues. Drowne desperate sorrow in dead Edwards graue, And plant your ioyes in liuing Edwards Throne.
Enter Richard, Buckingham, Derbie, Ha­ stings, and Ratcliffe. Rich.
[1330]
Sister haue comfort, all of vs haue cause To waile the dimming of our shining Starre: But none can helpe our harmes by wayling them. Madam, my Mother, I do cry you mercie, I did not see your Grace. Humbly on my knee,
[1335]
I craue your Blessing.
Dut. God blesse thee, and put meeknes in thy breast, Loue Charity, Obedience, and true Dutie. Rich. Amen, and make me die a good old man, That is the butt‑end of a Mothers blessing;
[1340]
I maruell that her Grace did leaue it out.
Buc. You clowdy‑Princes, & hart‑sorowing‑Peeres, That beare this heauie mutuall loade of Moane, Now cheere each other, in each others Loue: Though we haue spent our Haruest of this King,
[1345]
We are to reape the Haruest of his Sonne. The broken rancour of your high‑swolne hates, But lately splinter'd, knit, and ioyn'd together, Must gently be preseru'd, cherisht, and kept: Me seemeth good, that with some little Traine,
[1350]
Forthwith from Ludlow, the young Prince be set Hither to London, to be crown'd our King.
Riuers. Why with some little Traine, My Lord of Buckingham? Buc. Marrie my Lord, least by a multitude,
[1355]
The new‑heal'd wound of Malice should breake out, Which would be so much the more dangerous, By how much the estate is greene, and yet vngouern'd. Where euery Horse beares his commanding Reine, And may direct his course as please himselfe,
[1360]
As well the feare of harme, as harme apparant, In my opinion, ought to be preuented.
Rich. I hope the King made peace with all of vs, And the compact is firme, and true in me. Riu. And so in me, and so (I thinke) in all.
[1365]
Yet since it is but greene, it should be put To no apparant likely‑hood of breach, Which haply by much company might be vrg'd: Therefore I say with Noble Buckingham, That it is meete so few should fetch the Prince.
Hast.
[1370]
And so say I.
Rich. Then be it so, and go we to determine Who they shall be that strait shall poste to London. Madam, and you my Sister, will you go To giue your censures in this businesse. Exeunt. Manet Buckingham, and Richard. Buc.
[1375]
My Lord, who euer iournies to the Prince, For God sake let not vs two stay at home: For by the way, Ile sort occasion, As Index to the story we late talk'd of, To part the Queenes proud Kindred from the Prince.
Rich.
[1380]
My other selfe, my Counsailes Consistory, My Oracle, My Prophet, my deere Cosin, I, as a childe, will go by thy direction, Toward London then, for wee'l not stay behinde.
Exeunt
 

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<div type="scene" n="2">
   <head rend="italic center">Scena Secunda.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 2, Scene 2]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter the old Dutchesse of Yorke, with the two
      <lb/>children of Clarence.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r3-edw">
      <note resp="#ES">This speech is conventionally attributed to Boy.</note>
      <speaker rend="italic">Edw.</speaker>
      <l n="1231">Good Grandam tell vs, is our Father dead?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-duc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dutch.</speaker>
      <l n="1232">No Boy.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-mpl">
      <speaker rend="italic">Daugh.</speaker>
      <l n="1233">Why do weepe so oft? And beate your Brest?</l>
      <l n="1234">And cry, O<hi rend="italic">Clarence</hi>, my vnhappy Sonne.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-boy">
      <speaker rend="italic">Boy.</speaker>
      <l n="1235">Why do you looke on vs and shake your head,</l>
      <l n="1236">And call vs Orphans, Wretches, Castawayes,</l>
      <l n="1237">If that our Noble Father were aliue?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-duc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="1238">My pretty Cosins, you mistake me both,</l>
      <l n="1239">I do lament the sicknesse of the King,</l>
      <l n="1240">As loath to lose him, not your Fathers death:</l>
      <l n="1241">It were lost sorrow to waile one that's lost.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-boy">
      <speaker rend="italic">Boy.</speaker>
      <l n="1242">Then you conclude, (my Grandam) he is dead:</l>
      <l n="1243">The King mine Vnckle is too blame for it.</l>
      <l n="1244">God will reuenge it, whom I will importune</l>
      <l n="1245">With earnest prayers, all to that effect.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-mpl">
      <speaker rend="italic">Daugh.</speaker>
      <l n="1246">And so will I.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-duc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="1247">Peace children peace, the King doth loue you wel.</l>
      <l n="1248">Incapeable, and shallow Innocents,</l>
      <l n="1249">You cannot guesse who caus'd your Fathers death.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-boy">
      <speaker rend="italic">Boy.</speaker>
      <l n="1250">Grandam we can: for my good Vnkle Gloster</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="1251">Told me, the King prouok'd to it by the Queene,</l>
      <l n="1252">Deuis'd impeachments to imprison him;</l>
      <l n="1253">And when my Vnckle told me so, he wept,</l>
      <l n="1254">And pittied me, and kindly kist my cheeke:</l>
      <l n="1255">Bad me rely on him, as on my Father,</l>
      <l n="1256">And he would loue me deerely as a childe.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-duc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="1257">Ah! that Deceit should steale such gentle shape,</l>
      <l n="1258">And with a vertuous Vizor hide deepe vice.</l>
      <l n="1259">He is my sonne, I, and therein my shame,</l>
      <l n="1260">Yet from my dugges, he drew not this deceit.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-boy">
      <speaker rend="italic">Boy.</speaker>
      <l n="1261">Thinke you my Vnkle did dissemble Grandam?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-duc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="1262">I Boy.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-boy">
      <speaker rend="italic">Boy.</speaker>
      <l n="1263">I cannot thinke it. Hearke, what noise is this?</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter the Queene with her haire about her ears,
      <lb/>Riuers &amp; Dorset after her.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r3-qel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
      <l n="1264">Ah! who shall hinder me to waile and weepe?</l>
      <l n="1265">To chide my Fortune, and torment my Selfe.</l>
      <l n="1266">Ile ioyne with blacke dispaire against my Soule,</l>
      <l n="1267">And to my selfe, become an enemie.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-duc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="1268">What meanes this Scene of rude impatience?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-qel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
      <l n="1269">To make an act of Tragicke violence.</l>
      <l n="1270">
         <hi rend="italic">Edward</hi>my Lord, thy Sonne, our King is dead.</l>
      <l n="1271">Why grow the Branches, when the Roote is gone?</l>
      <l n="1272">Why wither not the leaues that want their sap?</l>
      <l n="1273">If you will liue, Lament: if dye, be breefe,</l>
      <l n="1274">That our swift‑winged Soules may catch the Kings,</l>
      <l n="1275">Or like obedient Subiects follow him,</l>
      <l n="1276">To his new Kingdome of nere‑changing night.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-duc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="1277">Ah so much interest haue in thy sorrow,</l>
      <l n="1278">As I had Title in thy Noble Husband:</l>
      <l n="1279">I haue bewept a worthy Husbands death,</l>
      <l n="1280">And liu'd with looking on his Images:</l>
      <l n="1281">But now two Mirrors of his Princely semblance,</l>
      <l n="1282">Are crack'd in pieces, by malignant death,</l>
      <l n="1283">And I for comfort, haue but one false Glasse,</l>
      <l n="1284">That greeues me, when I see my shame in him.</l>
      <l n="1285">Thou art a Widdow: yet thou art a Mother,</l>
      <l n="1286">And hast the comfort of thy Children left,</l>
      <l n="1287">But death hath snatch'd my Husband from mine Armes,</l>
      <l n="1288">And pluckt two Crutches from my feeble hands,</l>
      <l n="1289">
         <hi rend="italic">Clarence</hi>, and<hi rend="italic">Edward</hi>. O, what cause haue I,</l>
      <l n="1290">(Thine being but a moity of my moane)</l>
      <l n="1291">To ouer‑go thy woes, and drowne thy cries.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-boy">
      <speaker rend="italic">Boy.</speaker>
      <l n="1292">Ah Aunt! you wept not for our Fathers death:</l>
      <l n="1293">How can we ayde you with our Kindred teares?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-mpl">
      <speaker rend="italic">Daugh.</speaker>
      <l n="1294">Our fatherlesse distresse was left vnmoan'd,</l>
      <l n="1295">Your widdow‑dolour, likewise be vnwept.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-qel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
      <l n="1296">Giue me no helpe in Lamentation,</l>
      <l n="1297">I am not barren to bring forth complaints:</l>
      <l n="1298">All Springs reduce their currents to mine eyes,</l>
      <l n="1299">That I being gouern'd by the waterie Moone,</l>
      <l n="1300">May send forth plenteous teares to drowne the World.</l>
      <l n="1301">Ah, for my Husband, for my deere Lord<hi rend="italic">Edward</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-chi">
      <speaker rend="italic">Chil.</speaker>
      <l n="1302">Ah for our Father, for our deere Lord<hi rend="italic">Clarence</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-duc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="1303">Alas for both, both mine<hi rend="italic">Edward</hi>and<hi rend="italic">Clarence</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-qel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
      <l n="1304">What stay had I but<hi rend="italic">Edward</hi>, and hee's gone?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-chi">
      <speaker rend="italic">Chil.</speaker>
      <l n="1305">What stay had we but<hi rend="italic">Clarence</hi>? and he's gone.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-duc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="1306">What stayes had I, but they? and they are gone.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-qel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
      <l n="1307">Was neuer widdow had so deere a losse.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-chi">
      <speaker rend="italic">Chil.</speaker>
      <l n="1308">Were neuer Orphans had so deere a losse.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-duc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="1309">Was neuer Mother had so deere a losse.</l>
      <l n="1310">Alas! I am the Mother of these Greefes,</l>
      <l n="1311">Their woes are parcell'd, mine is generall.</l>
      <l n="1312">She for an<hi rend="italic">Edward</hi>weepes, and so do I:</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0540-0.jpg" n="184"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="1313">I for a<hi rend="italic">Clarence</hi>weepes, so doth not shee:</l>
      <l n="1314">These Babes for<hi rend="italic">Clarence</hi>weepe, so do not they.</l>
      <l n="1315">Alas! you three, on me threefold distrest:</l>
      <l n="1316">Power all your teares, I am your sorrowes Nurse,</l>
      <l n="1317">And I will pamper it with Lamentation.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-dor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dor.</speaker>
      <l n="1318">Comfort deere Mother, God is much displeas'd,</l>
      <l n="1319">That you take with vnthankfulnesse his doing.</l>
      <l n="1320">In common worldly things, 'tis call'd vngratefull,</l>
      <l n="1321">With dull vnwillingnesse to repay a debt,</l>
      <l n="1322">Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent:</l>
      <l n="1323">Much more to be thus opposite with heauen,</l>
      <l n="1324">For it requires the Royall debt it lent you.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-riv">
      <speaker rend="italic">Riuers.</speaker>
      <l n="1325">Madam, bethinke you like a carefull Mother</l>
      <l n="1326">Of the young Prince your sonne: send straight for him,</l>
      <l n="1327">Let him be Crown'd, in him your comfort liues.</l>
      <l n="1328">Drowne desperate sorrow in dead<hi rend="italic">Edwards</hi>graue,</l>
      <l n="1329">And plant your ioyes in liuing<hi rend="italic">Edwards</hi>Throne.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Richard, Buckingham, Derbie, Ha­
      <lb/>stings, and Ratcliffe.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="1330">Sister haue comfort, all of vs haue cause</l>
      <l n="1331">To waile the dimming of our shining Starre:</l>
      <l n="1332">But none can helpe our harmes by wayling them.</l>
      <l n="1333">Madam, my Mother, I do cry you mercie,</l>
      <l n="1334">I did not see your Grace. Humbly on my knee,</l>
      <l n="1335">I craue your Blessing.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-duc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="1336">God blesse thee, and put meeknes in thy breast,</l>
      <l n="1337">Loue Charity, Obedience, and true Dutie.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="1338">Amen, and make me die a good old man,</l>
      <l n="1339">That is the butt‑end of a Mothers blessing;</l>
      <l n="1340">I maruell that her Grace did leaue it out.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-buc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Buc.</speaker>
      <l n="1341">You clowdy‑Princes, &amp; hart‑sorowing‑Peeres,</l>
      <l n="1342">That beare this heauie mutuall loade of Moane,</l>
      <l n="1343">Now cheere each other, in each others Loue:</l>
      <l n="1344">Though we haue spent our Haruest of this King,</l>
      <l n="1345">We are to reape the Haruest of his Sonne.</l>
      <l n="1346">The broken rancour of your high‑swolne hates,</l>
      <l n="1347">But lately splinter'd, knit, and ioyn'd together,</l>
      <l n="1348">Must gently be preseru'd, cherisht, and kept:</l>
      <l n="1349">Me seemeth good, that with some little Traine,</l>
      <l n="1350">Forthwith from Ludlow, the young Prince be set</l>
      <l n="1351">Hither to London, to be crown'd our King.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-riv">
      <speaker rend="italic">Riuers.</speaker>
      <l n="1352">Why with some little Traine,</l>
      <l n="1353">My Lord of Buckingham?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-buc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Buc.</speaker>
      <l n="1354">Marrie my Lord, least by a multitude,</l>
      <l n="1355">The new‑heal'd wound of Malice should breake out,</l>
      <l n="1356">Which would be so much the more dangerous,</l>
      <l n="1357">By how much the estate is greene, and yet vngouern'd.</l>
      <l n="1358">Where euery Horse beares his commanding Reine,</l>
      <l n="1359">And may direct his course as please himselfe,</l>
      <l n="1360">As well the feare of harme, as harme apparant,</l>
      <l n="1361">In my opinion, ought to be preuented.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="1362">I hope the King made peace with all of vs,</l>
      <l n="1363">And the compact is firme, and true in me.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-riv">
      <speaker rend="italic">Riu.</speaker>
      <l n="1364">And so in me, and so (I thinke) in all.</l>
      <l n="1365">Yet since it is but greene, it should be put</l>
      <l n="1366">To no apparant likely‑hood of breach,</l>
      <l n="1367">Which haply by much company might be vrg'd:</l>
      <l n="1368">Therefore I say with Noble Buckingham,</l>
      <l n="1369">That it is meete so few should fetch the Prince.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-has">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hast.</speaker>
      <l n="1370">And so say I.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="1371">Then be it so, and go we to determine</l>
      <l n="1372">Who they shall be that strait shall poste to London.</l>
      <l n="1373">Madam, and you my Sister, will you go</l>
      <l n="1374">To giue your censures in this businesse.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
   <cb n="2"/>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Manet Buckingham, and Richard.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r3-buc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Buc.</speaker>
      <l n="1375">My Lord, who euer iournies to the Prince,</l>
      <l n="1376">For God sake let not vs two stay at home:</l>
      <l n="1377">For by the way, Ile sort occasion,</l>
      <l n="1378">As Index to the story we late talk'd of,</l>
      <l n="1379">To part the Queenes proud Kindred from the Prince.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="1380">My other selfe, my Counsailes Consistory,</l>
      <l n="1381">My Oracle, My Prophet, my deere Cosin,</l>
      <l n="1382">I, as a childe, will go by thy direction,</l>
      <l n="1383">Toward London then, for wee'l not stay behinde.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt</stage>
</div>

        
        

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