ACT IV. | |
SCENE III. London. Another Room in the Palace. | |
| [Enter TYRREL.] |
TYRREL. | |
| The tyrannous and bloody act is done,-- |
| The most arch deed of piteous massacre |
| That ever yet this land was guilty of. |
| Dighton and Forrest, who I did suborn |
| To do this piece of ruthless butchery, |
| Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs, |
| Melted with tenderness and mild compassion, |
| Wept like two children in their deaths' sad story. |
| O, thus, quoth Dighton, "lay the gentle babes,"-- |
| Thus, thus, quoth Forrest, "girdling one another |
| Within their alabaster innocent arms: |
| Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, |
| And in their summer beauty kiss'd each other. |
| A book of prayers on their pillow lay; |
| Which once," quoth Forrest, "almost chang'd my mind; |
| But, O, the devil,"--there the villain stopp'd; |
| When Dighton thus told on:--"We smothered |
| The most replenished sweet work of nature |
| That from the prime creation e'er she framed."-- |
| Hence both are gone; with conscience and remorse |
| They could not speak; and so I left them both, |
| To bear this tidings to the bloody king:-- |
| And here he comes:-- |
| [Enter KING RICHARD.] |
| All health, my sovereign lord! |
KING RICHARD. | |
| Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in thy news? |
TYRREL. | |
| If to have done the thing you gave in charge |
| Beget your happiness, be happy then, |
| For it is done. |
KING RICHARD. | |
| But didst thou see them dead? |
TYRREL. | |
| I did, my lord. |
KING RICHARD. | |
| And buried, gentle Tyrrel? |
TYRREL. | |
| The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them; |
| But where, to say the truth, I do not know. |
KING RICHARD. | |
| Come to me, Tyrrel, soon, at after supper, |
| When thou shalt tell the process of their death. |
| Meantime, but think how I may do thee good, |
| And be inheritor of thy desire. |
| Farewell till then. |
TYRREL. | |
| I humbly take my leave. |
| [Exit.] |
KING RICHARD. | |
| The son of Clarence have I pent up close; |
| His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage; |
| The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom, |
| And Anne my wife hath bid the world good-night. |
| Now, for I know the Britagne Richmond aims |
| At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter, |
| And by that knot looks proudly on the crown, |
| To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer. |
| [Enter RATCLIFF.] |
RATCLIFF. | |
| My lord,-- |
KING RICHARD. | |
| Good or bad news, that thou com'st in so bluntly? |
RATCLIFF. | |
| 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 increaseth. |
KING RICHARD. | |
| Ely with Richmond troubles me more near |
| Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength. |
| Come,--I have learn'd that fearful commenting |
| Is leaden servitor to dull delay; |
| Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary: |
| Then fiery expedition be my wing, |
| Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king! |
| Go, muster men: my counsel is my shield; |
| We must be brief when traitors brave the field. |
| [Exeunt.] |