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Anointed let me be with deadly venom,
And die, ere men can say, God save the queen!
QUEEN ELIZABETH:
Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory
To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm.
LADY 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 issued 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,
This was my wish: 'Be thou,' quoth I, ' accursed,
For making me, so young, so old a widow!
And, when thou wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;
And be thy wife--if any be so mad--
As miserable by the life of thee
As thou hast made me by my dear lord's death!
Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,
Even in so short a space, my woman's heart
Grossly grew captive to his honey words
And proved the subject of my own soul's curse,
Which ever since hath kept my eyes from rest;
For never yet one hour in his bed
Have I enjoy'd the golden dew of sleep,
But have been waked by his timorous dreams.
Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick;
And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
QUEEN ELIZABETH:
Poor heart, adieu! I pity thy complaining.
LADY ANNE:
No more than from my soul I mourn for yours.
QUEEN ELIZABETH:
Farewell, thou woful welcomer of glory!
LADY ANNE:
Adieu, poor soul, that takest thy leave of it!
DUCHESS OF YORK:
QUEEN ELIZABETH:
Stay, yet look back with me unto the Tower.
Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes
Whom envy hath immured within your walls!
Rough cradle for such little pretty ones!
Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow
For tender princes, use my babies well!
So foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell.
KING RICHARD III:
Stand all apart Cousin of Buckingham!
BUCKINGHAM:
My gracious sovereign?
KING RICHARD III:
Give me thy hand.
Thus high, by thy advice
And thy assistance, is King Richard seated;
But shall we wear these honours for a day?
Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?
BUCKINGHAM:
Still live they and for ever may they last!
KING RICHARD III:
O Buckingham, now do I play the touch,
To try if thou be current gold indeed
Young Edward lives: think now what I would say.
BUCKINGHAM:
Say on, my loving lord.
KING RICHARD III:
Why, Buckingham, I say, I would be king,
BUCKINGHAM:
Why, so you are, my thrice renowned liege.
KING RICHARD III:
Ha! am I king? 'tis so: but Edward lives.
BUCKINGHAM:
True, noble prince.
KING RICHARD III:
O bitter consequence,
That Edward still should live! 'True, noble prince!'
Cousin, thou wert not wont to be so dull:
Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead;
And I would have it suddenly perform'd.
What sayest thou? speak suddenly; be brief.
BUCKINGHAM:
Your grace may do your pleasure.