K. Rich. Then know, that, from my soul, I love thy daughter. Q. Eliz. My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul.! K. Rich. What do you think? Q. Eliz. That thou dost love my daughter, from thy soul: So, from thy soul's love, didst thou love her brothers; And, from my heart's love, I do thank thee for it. K. Rich. Be not so hasty to confound my meaning: I mean, that with my soul I love thy daughter, And do intend to make her queen of England. Q. Eliz. Well then, who dost thou mean shall be her king? K. Rich. Even he, that makes her queen; Who else should be? As one being best acquainted with her humour. Q. Eliz. And wilt thou learn of me? K. Rich. Madam, with all my heart. Q. Eliz. Send to her, by the man that slew her brothers, A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave, A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain Tell her, thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence, way To win you daughter. Q. Eliz. There is no other way; Unless thou could'st put on some other shape, And not be Richard that hath done all this. K. Rich. Say, that I did all this for love of her? Q. Eliz. Nay, then indeed, she cannot choose but have thee, Having bought love with such a bloody spoil. K. Rich. Look, what is done cannot be now amended: Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, Which after-hours give leisure to repent. To quicken your increase, I will beget Even of your mettle, of your very blood; The loss, you have, is but-a son being king, The king, that calls your beauteous daughter,-wife, And all the ruins of distressful times The petty rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham, Q. Eliz. What were I best to say? her father's brother Would be her lord? Or shall I say, her uncle? That God, the law, my honour, and her love, K. Rich. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance. war. K. Rich. Tell her, the king, that may command, entreats. Q. Eliz. That at her hands, which the king's King forbids. K. Rich. Say, she shall be a high and mighty queen. K. Rich. As long as heaven, and nature, lengthens it. Q. Eliz. As long as hell, and Richard, likes of it. K. Rich. Say, I, her sov'reign, am her subject low. Q. Eliz. But she, your subject, loaths such sovreignty. K. Rich. Be eloquent in my behalf to her. Q. Eliz. An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. K. Rich. Then, in plain terms tell her my loving tale. Q. Eliz. Plain, and not honest, is too harsh a style. K. Rich. You reasons are too shallow and too quick. Q. Eliz. O, no, my reasons are too deep and dead; Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. K. Rich. Harp not on that string, madam; that is past. Q. Eliz. Harp on it still shall I, till heart-strings break. K. Rich. Now, by my george, my garter, and my crown, Q. Eliz. Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third usurp❜d. K. Rich. I swear. Q. Eliz. 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; 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. K. Rich. Now by the world, Q. Eliz. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs. K. Rich. My father's death, |