Part 27

Buck. Say on my louing Lord

Rich. Why Buckingham, I say I would be King

Buck. Why so you are, my thrice-renowned Lord

Rich. Ha? am I King? 'tis so: but Edward liues

Buck True, Noble Prince

Rich. O bitter consequence! That Edward still should liue true Noble Prince. Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull. Shall I be plaine? I wish the Bastards dead, And I would haue it suddenly perform'd. What say'st thou now? speake suddenly, be briefe

Buck. Your Grace may doe your pleasure

Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all Ice, thy kindnesse freezes: Say, haue I thy consent, that they shall dye? Buc. Giue me some litle breath, some pawse, deare Lord, Before I positiuely speake in this: I will resolue you herein presently.

Exit Buck[ingham].

Catesby. The King is angry, see he gnawes his Lippe

Rich. I will conuerse with Iron-witted Fooles, And vnrespectiue Boyes: none are for me, That looke into me with considerate eyes, High-reaching Buckingham growes circumspect. Boy

Page. My Lord

Rich. Know'st thou not any, whom corrupting Gold Will tempt vnto a close exploit of Death? Page. I know a discontented Gentleman, Whose humble meanes match not his haughtie spirit: Gold were as good as twentie Orators, And will (no doubt) tempt him to any thing

Rich. What is his Name? Page. His Name, my Lord, is Tirrell

Rich. I partly know the man: goe call him hither, Boy. Enter.

The deepe reuoluing wittie Buckingham, No more shall be the neighbor to my counsailes. Hath he so long held out with me, vntyr'd, And stops he now for breath? Well, be it so. Enter Stanley.

How now, Lord Stanley, what's the newes? Stanley. Know my louing Lord, the Marquesse Dorset As I heare, is fled to Richmond, In the parts where he abides

Rich. Come hither Catesby, rumor it abroad, That Anne my Wife is very grieuous sicke, I will take order for her keeping close. Inquire me out some meane poore Gentleman, Whom I will marry straight to Clarence Daughter: The Boy is foolish, and I feare not him. Looke how thou dream'st: I say againe, giue out, That Anne, my Queene, is sicke, and like to dye. About it, for it stands me much vpon To stop all hopes, whose growth may dammage me. I must be marryed to my Brothers Daughter, Or else my Kingdome stands on brittle Glasse: Murther her Brothers, and then marry her, Vncertaine way of gaine. But I am in So farre in blood, that sinne will pluck on sinne, Teare-falling Pittie dwells not in this Eye. Enter Tyrrel.

Is thy Name Tyrrel? Tyr. Iames Tyrrel, and your most obedient subiect

Rich. Art thou indeed? Tyr. Proue me, my gracious Lord

Rich. Dar'st thou resolue to kill a friend of mine? Tyr. Please you: But I had rather kill two enemies

Rich. Why then thou hast it: two deepe enemies, Foes to my Rest, and my sweet sleepes disturbers, Are they that I would haue thee deale vpon: Tyrrel, I meane those Bastards in the Tower

Tyr. Let me haue open meanes to come to them, And soone Ile rid you from the feare of them

Rich. Thou sing'st sweet Musique: Hearke, come hither Tyrrel, Goe by this token: rise, and lend thine Eare,

Whispers.

There is no more but so: say it is done, And I will loue thee, and preferre thee for it

Tyr. I will dispatch it straight. Enter.

Enter Buckingham.