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Act 3, Scene 7

Baynard's Castle.

Enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM, at several doors.

Gloucester

How now, how now, what say the citizens?

Buckingham

Now, by the holy mother of our Lord,

The citizens are mum say not a word.

Gloucester

Touched you the bastardy of Edward's children?

Buckingham

I did; with his contract with Lady Lucy,

And his contract by deputy in France;

The unsatiate greediness of his desire,

And his enforcement of the city wives;

His tyranny for trifles; his own bastardy,

As being got, your father then in France,

And his resemblance, being not like the duke:

Withal I did infer your lineaments,

Being the right idea of your father,

Both in your form and nobleness of mind;

Laid open all your victories in Scotland,

Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace,

Your bounty, virtue, fair humility;

Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose

Untouched, or slightly handled, in discourse:

And when mine oratory drew to an end,

I bid them that did love their country's good

Cry “God save Richard, England's royal king!”

Gloucester

And did they so?

Buckingham

No, so God help me, they spake not a word;

But, like dumb statues or breathing stones,

Stared each on other, and looked deadly pale.

Which when I saw, I reprehended them;

And asked the mayor what meant this wilful silence:

His answer was, the people were not used

To be spoke to but by the recorder.

Then he was urged to tell my tale again,

“Thus saith the duke, thus hath the duke inferred;”

But nothing spake in warrant from himself.

When he had done, some followers of mine own,

At lower end of the hall, hurled up their caps,

And some ten voices cried “God save King Richard!”

And thus I took the vantage of those few,

“Thanks, gentle citizens and friends,” quoth I;

“This general applause and cheerful shout

Argues your wisdoms and your love to Richard:”

And even here brake off, and came away.

Gloucester

What tongueless blocks were they! would they not speak?

Buckingham

No, by my troth, my lord.

Gloucester

Will not the mayor then and his brethren come?

Buckingham

The mayor is here at hand: intend some fear;

Be not you spoke with, but by mighty suit:

And look you get a prayer-book in your hand,

And stand between two churchmen, good my lord;

For on that ground I'll make a holy descant:

And be not easily won to our requests:

Play the maid's part, still answer nay, and take it.

Gloucester

I go; and if you plead as well for them

As I can say nay to thee for myself,

No doubt we bring it to a happy issue.

Buckingham

Go, go, up to the leads; the lord mayor knocks. Exit Gloucester.Enter the Mayor and Citizens.

Welcome, my lord; I dance attendance here;

I think the duke will not be spoke withal. Enter CATESBY.

Now, Catesby, what says your lord to my request?

Catesby

He doth entreat your grace, my noble lord,

To visit him to-morrow or next day:

He is within, with two right reverend fathers,

Divinely bent to meditation;

And in no worldly suits would he be moved,

To draw him from his holy exercise.

Buckingham

Return, good Catesby, to the gracious duke;

Tell him, myself, the mayor and aldermen,

In deep designs, in matter of great moment,

No less importing than our general good,

Are come to have some conference with his grace.

Catesby

I'll signify so much unto him straight. Exit.

Buckingham

Ah, ha, my lord, this prince is not an Edward!

He is not lolling on a lewd love-bed,

But on his knees at meditation;

Not dallying with a brace of courtezans,

But meditating with two deep divines;

Not sleeping, to engross his idle body,

But praying, to enrich his watchful soul:

Happy were England, would this virtuous prince

Take on his grace the sovereignty thereof:

But, sure, I fear, we shall not win him to it.

Mayor

Marry, God defend his grace should say us nay!

Buckingham

I fear he will. Here Catesby comes again. Re-enter CATESBY.

Now, Catesby, what says his grace?

Catesby

My lord,

He wonders to what end you have assembled

Such troops of citizens to come to him,

His grace not being warned thereof before:

He fears, my lord, you mean no good to him.

Buckingham

Sorry I am my noble cousin should

Suspect me, that I mean no good to him:

By heaven, we come to him in perfect love;

And so once more return and tell his grace. Exit Catesby.

When holy and devout religious men

Are at their beads, 'tis much to draw them thence,

So sweet is zealous contemplation. Enter GLOUCESTER aloft, between two Bishops. CATESBY returns.

Mayor

See, where his grace stands 'tween two clergymen!

Buckingham

Two props of virtue for a Christian prince,

To stay him from the fall of vanity:

And, see, a book of prayer in his hand,

True ornaments to know a holy man.

Famous Plantagenet, most gracious prince,

Lend favourable ear to our requests;

And pardon us the interruption

Of thy devotion and right Christian zeal.

Gloucester

My lord, there needs no such apology:

I do beseech your grace to pardon me,

Who, earnest in the service of my God,

Deferred the visitation of my friends.

But, leaving this, what is your grace's pleasure?

Buckingham

Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above,

And all good men of this ungoverned isle.

Gloucester

I do suspect I have done some offence

That seems disgracious in the city's eye,

And that you come to reprehend my ignorance.

Buckingham

You have, my lord: would it might please your grace,

On our entreaties, to amend your fault!

Gloucester

Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land?

Buckingham

Know then, it is your fault that you resign

The supreme seat, the throne majestical,

The sceptered office of your ancestors,

Your state of fortune and your due of birth,

The lineal glory of your royal house,

To the corruption of a blemished stock:

Whiles, in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts,

Which here we waken to our country's good,

The noble isle doth want her proper limbs;

Her face defaced with scars of infamy,

Her royal stock graft with ignoble plants,

And almost shouldered in the swallowing gulf

Of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion.

Which to recure, we heartily solicit

Your gracious self to take on you the charge

And kingly government of this your land,

Not as protector, steward, substitute,

Or lowly factor for another's gain;

But as successively from blood to blood,

Your right of birth, your empery, your own.

For this, consorted with the citizens,

Your very worshipful and loving friends,

And by their vehement instigation,

In this just cause come I to move your grace.

Gloucester

I cannot tell if to depart in silence,

Or bitterly to speak in your reproof,

Best fitteth my degree or your condition:

If not to answer, you might haply think

Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded

To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty,

Which fondly you would here impose on me;

If to reprove you for this suit of yours,

So seasoned with your faithful love to me,

Then, on the other side, I checked my friends.

Therefore, to speak, and to avoid the first,

And then, in speaking, not to incur the last,

Definitively thus I answer you.

Your love deserves my thanks; but my desert

Unmeritable shuns your high request.

First, if all obstacles were cut away,

And that my path were even to the crown,

As the ripe revenue and due of birth;

Yet so much is my poverty of spirit,

So mighty and so many my defects,

That I would rather hide me from my greatness,

Being a bark to brook no mighty sea,

Than in my greatness covet to be hid,

And in the vapour of my glory smothered.

But, God be thanked, there is no need of me,

And much I need to help you, were there need;

The royal tree hath left us royal fruit,

Which, mellowed by the stealing hours of time,

Will well become the seat of majesty,

And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign.

On him I lay that you would lay on me,

The right and fortune of his happy stars;

Which God defend that I should wring from him!

Buckingham

My lord, this argues conscience in your grace;

But the respects thereof are nice and trivial,

All circumstances well considered.

You say that Edward is your brother's son:

So say we too, but not by Edward's wife;

For first was he contract to Lady Lucy —

Your mother lives a witness to his vow —

And afterward by substitute betrothed

To Bona, sister to the King of France.

These both put off, a poor petitioner,

A care-crazed mother to a many children,

A beauty-waning and distressed widow,

Even in the afternoon of her best days,

Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye,

Seduced the pitch and height of his degree

To base declension and loathed bigamy:

By her, in his unlawful bed, he got

This Edward, whom our manners call the prince.

More bitterly could I expostulate,

Save that, for reverence to some alive,

I give a sparing limit to my tongue.

Then, good my lord, take to your royal self

This proffered benefit of dignity;

If not to bless us and the land withal,

Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry

From the corruption of abusing times,

Unto a lineal true-derived course.

Mayor

Do, good my lord, your citizens entreat you.

Buckingham

Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffered love.

Catesby

O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit!

Gloucester

Alas, why would you heap this care on me?

I am unfit for state and majesty:

I do beseech you, take it not amiss;

I cannot nor I will not yield to you,

Buckingham

If you refuse it, — as, in love and zeal,

Loath to depose the child, your brother's son;

As well we know your tenderness of heart

And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,

Which we have noted in you to your kindred,

And egally indeed to all estates, —

Yet know, whe'er you accept our suit or no,

Your brother's son shall never reign our king;

But we will plant some other in the throne,

To the disgrace and downfall of your house:

And in this resolution here we leave you. —

Come, citizens: 'zounds I'll entreat no more,

Gloucester

O, do not swear, my lord of Buckingham. Exit Buckingham with the Citizens,

Catesby

Call him again, sweet prince, accept their suit.

Citizen

If you deny them, all the land will rue it.

Gloucester

Will you enforce me to a world of cares?

Call them again. I am not made of stones,

But penetrable to your kind entreats,

Albeit against my conscience and my soul. Re-enter BUCKINGHAM and the rest.

Cousin of Buckingham, and sage, grave men,

Since you will buckle fortune on my back,

To bear her burden, whether I will or no,

I must have patience to endure the load:

But if black scandal or foul-faced reproach

Attend the sequel of your imposition,

Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me

From all the impure blots and stains thereof;

For God doth know, and you may partly see,

How far I am from the desire of this,

Mayor

God bless your grace! we see it, and will say it.

Gloucester

In saying so, you shall but say the truth.

Buckingham

Then I salute you with this royal title:

Long live Richard, England's worthy king!

Mayor and Citizen

Amen.

Buckingham

To-morrow may it please you to be crowned?

Gloucester

Even when you please, for you will have it so.

Buckingham

To-morrow, then, we will attend your grace:

And so most joyfully we take our leave.

Gloucester

Come, let us to our holy work again.

Farewell, my cousin; farewell, gentle friends. Exeunt.