ACT IV. SCENE I. Before the Tower. Enter, on one side, Queen ELIZABETH, Duchess of YORK, und Marquis of DORSET; on the other, ANNE Duchess of Gloster, leading Lady MARGARET PLANTAGENET, CLARENCE's young daughter. Duch. 19 Who meets us here?-my niece Plantagenet Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloster ? Anne. God give your graces both A happy and a joyful time of day! Q. Eliz. As much to you, good sister! Whither away? Anne. No further than the Tower; and, as I guess, Upon the like devotion as yourselves, To gratulate the gentle princes there. Q. Eliz. Kind sister, thanks; we'll enter all together: Enter BRAKENBURY. And, in good time, here the lieutenant comes.— Brak. Right well, dear madam: By your patience, I may not suffer you to visit them; The king hath strictly charg'd the contrary. Q. Eliz. The king! who's that? Brak. I mean, the lord protector. Q. Eliz. The lord protect him from that kingly title! Hath he set bounds between their love, and me? Duch. I am their father's mother, I will see them. ther: Then bring me to their sights; I'll bear thy blame, And take thy office from thee, on my peril. Brak. No, madam, no, I may not leave it so; I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me." Enter STANLEY. [Exit Brak. Stan. Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence, And I'll salute your grace of York as mother, And reverend looker-on of two fair queens. Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster. [To the Duchess of Gloster. There to be crowned Richard's royal queen. Q. Eliz. Ah, cut my lace asunder! That my pent heart may have some scope to beat, Anne. Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news! Dor. Be of good cheer :-Mother, how fares your grace? Q. Eliz. O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee gone, Death and destruction dog thee at the heels; Thy mother's name is ominous to children: Take all the swift advantage of the hours; Duch. O ill-dispersing wind of misery!- Whose unavoided eye is murderous ! Stan. Come, madam, come; I in all haste was sent. Anne. And I with all unwillingness will go. O, would to God, that the inclusive verge Q. Eliz. Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory; To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm. Anne. No! why ?-When he, that is my husband now, Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse; When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his hands, Which issu'd from my other angel husband, And that dead saint which then I weeping follow'd; O, when, I say, I look'd on Richard's face, And, when thou wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy bed; Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death! Even in so short a space, my woman's heart And prov'd the subject of mine own soul's curse : Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep, But with his timorous dreams was still awak'd. Q. Eliz. Poor heart, adieu; I pity thy complaining. Anne. Adieu, poor soul, that tak'st thy leave of it! Duch. Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee! [To Dorset. Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee!— thee! [To Anne. Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess [To Q. Elizabeth. I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me! Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen, And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen. Q. Eliz. Stay yet; look back, with me, unto the Tower. Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes, For tender princes, use my babies well! So foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Room of State in the Palace. Flourish of trumpets. RICHARD, as king upon his throne; BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, a Page, and Others. K. Rich. Stand all apart.-Cousin of Buckingham, Buck. My gracious sovereign. K. Rich. Give me thy hand. Thus high, by thy advice, |