S1 The Lord protect him from that…
kingly title!
Hath he set bounds between their love and me?
I am their mother. Who shall bar me from them?
S1 I am their father’s…
mother. I will see them.
S1 Their aunt I am in…
law, in love their mother.
S1 O Dorset, speak not to me…
Get thee gone.
Death and destruction dogs thee at thy heels.
S1 O ill-dispersing wind of misery!
O my…
accursèd womb, the bed of death!
A cockatrice hast thou hatched to the world,
Whose unavoided eye is murderous
S1 O, would to God that the inclusive verge…
Of golden metal that must round my brow
Were red-hot steel to sear me to the brains!
S1 Anointed let me be with deadly venom…
And die ere men can say “God save the Queen.”
S1 Within so small a time my woman’s heart…
Grossly grew captive to his honey words
S1 For never yet one hour in his bed…
Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep,
But with his timorous dreams was still awaked
S1 I to my grave, where peace and…
rest lie with me.
Eighty-odd years of sorrow have I seen,
And each hour’s joy wracked with a week of teen.
S1 Pity, you ancient stones, those tender…
babes
Whom envy hath immured within your walls—
S1 Rough cradle for such little pretty ones.
Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow
For tender princes, use my babies well.
So foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell.
S2 Give me thy hand–Thus high, by thy advice…
And thy assistance is King Richard seated.
S2 But shall we wear these…
glories for a day,
Or shall they last and we rejoice in them?
S2 Ha! Am I king?..
’Tis so—but Edward lives.
S2 Shall I be plain?..
I wish the bastards dead,
And I would have it suddenly performed.
S2 Tut, tut, thou art all ice…
thy kindness freezes.
Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?
S2 Catesby: (aside to the other Attendants)
The King is angry. See, he gnaws his lip.
S2 I will converse with iron-witted fools
And unrespective boys…
None are for me
That look into me with considerate eyes.
High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect.—
Boy!
S2 Know’st thou not any whom corrupting gold…
Will tempt unto a close exploit of death?
S2 The deep-revolving witty Buckingham…
No more shall be the neighbor to my counsels.
Hath he so long held out with me, untired,
And stops he now for breath? Well, be it so.
S2 Murder her brothers, and then marry her—
Uncertain way of gain. But I am in
So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin.
Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
S2 Dar’st thou resolve to kill a friend of mine?
Please you. But I had rather kill two enemies
S2 Why then, thou hast it. Two deep enemies,
Foes to my rest…
and my sweet sleep’s disturbers,
Are they that I would have thee deal upon.
Tyrrel, I mean those bastards in the Tower.