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The Presence Chamber.
Enter BucKINGHAM, hastily, meeting LoRD
Buck. Did you see the duke Stanley. What duke, my lord Buck. His Grace of Gloster; did you see him Stanley. Not lately, my lord—I hope no ill news? Buck. The worst that heart e'er bore, or tongue can utter, Edward, the king, his royal brother,’s dead! Stanley. "Tis sad, indeed I wish by your impatlence, To acquaint him though, you think it so, to him. [Aside. Did the king, my lord, make any mention Of a protector, for his crown, and children Buck. He did ; Duke Richard has the care of both. Stanley. That sad news you are afraid to tell him too. [Aside. Buck. He'll spare no toils, I'm sure, to fill his place. Stanley. 'Pray, Heav'n, he's not too diligent [Aside. Åly lord, is not that the Duchess of York, 'i he king's mother, coming, I fear, to visit him * Buck. "Tis she—little thinking what has befall'n us!
Enter DUCH ess of York.
Duch. of York. Good day, my lords; how takes the king his rest ?
Buck. Alas, madam | too well—he sleeps for ever! Duch. of York. Dead ' Good Heav'n, support me! Buck. Madam, 'twas my unhappy lot, to hear His last departing groans, and close his eyes | Duch. of York. Another taken from me too ! why, just Heav'n, Am I still left the last, in life, and woef First, I bemoan'd a noble husband's death, Yet liv'd, with looking on his images: But now, my last support is gone.—First, Clarence, Now, Edward, is for ever taken from me, And I must now of force, sink down with sorrow ! Buck. Your youngest son, the noble Richard, lives, His love, I know, will feel his mother's cares, And bring new comfort to your latter days. Duch. of York. "Twere new, indeed! for yet of him, I've none, Unless a churlish disposition may Be counted from a child a mother's comfort. Where is the queen, my lord? Buck. I left her with her kinsmen, deep in sorrow, Who have, with much ado, persuaded her To leave the body.—Madam, they are here.
Enter QUEEN, Rivers, and Do Rs ET.
Queen. Why do you thus oppose my grief? unless, To make me rave, and weep, the faster hal My mother too, in tears! fresh sorrow strikes My heart, at sight of every friend that lov’d My Edward, living! Oh, mother, he's dead! Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead! Oh, that my eyes could weep away my soul | Then I might follow, worthy of his hearse.
Stanley. Your duty, madam, of a wife, is dead, And now, the mother's only, claims your care. Think on the prince, your son—send for him, straight, And let his coronation clear your eyes,
Bury your griefs in the dead Edward's grave—
Enter GLost ER, behind.
Glost. Why, ahl these tears look well—Sorrow's the mode, And every one at court must wear it now :With all my heart; I’ll not be out of fashion. [Aside. Queen. My lord, just Heaven knows, I never hated Gloster || But would, on any terms, embrace his friendship. Buck. These words would make him weep—I know him yours.See, where he comes, in sorrow for our loss. Glost. My lords, good morrow—Cousin of Buckingham, I am yours. [Weeps. Buck. Good morning to your grace. Glost. Methinks, We meet, like men that had forgot to speak. Buck. We may remember; but our argument, Is now too mournful to admit such talk. Glost. It is, indeed! Peace be with him, that made it so Sister, take comfort; 'tis true, we've all cause To mourn the dimming of our shining star; But sorrow never could revive the dead; And if it could, hope would prevent our tears; So we must weep, because we weep in vain.
ACT THE THIRD.
PRINCE Edward, GLost ER, BucKINGHAM, LORD STANLEY, TREssel, and ATTEN DANTs, discowered.
Glost. Now, my royal cousin, welcome to London | Welcome to all those honour’d dignities, Which, by your father's will, and by your birth, You stand the undoubted heir possessed of . And, if my plain simplicity of heart, May take the liberty to show itself, You're farther welcome to your uncle's care And love—Why do you sigh, my lord That weary way has made you melancholy. P. Ed. No, uncle; but our crosses on the way, Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy: * I want more uncles here to welcome me. Tressel. More uncles what means his highness? Stanley. Why, sir, the careful Duke of Gloster, has Secur'd his kinsmen on the way.—Lord Rivers, Gray, Sir Thomas Vaughan, and others of his friends, Are prisoners now in Pomfret Castle: On what pretence it boots not, there they are ; Let the devil and the duke alone to accuse them. Glost. My lord, the Mayor of London comes to greet you.
Enter Lord MAYok and Two ALDERMEN.
Lord M. Vouchsafe, most gracious sovereign, to accept The general homage of your royal city: We farther beg your royal leave, to speak, In deep condolement of your father's loss; And, as far as our true sorrow would permit, To 'gratulate your accession to the throne. P. Ed. I thank you, good my lord, and thank you all. Alas! my youth is yet unfit to govern, Therefore, the sword of justice is in abler hands; But be assur'd of this, so much already I perceive I love you, that though l know not yet To do you offices of good; yet this I know, I'll sooner die, than basely do you wrong. Glost. So wise, so young, they say, do ne'er live long. [Aside. P. Ed, My lords, I thought my mother, and my brother, York, Would, long ere this, have met us on the way: Say, uncle Gloster, if our brother come, Where shall we sojourn till our coronation? Glost. Where it shall seem best to your royal self. May I advise you, sir, some day or two, Your highness shall repose you at the Tower; Then, where you please, and shall be thought most fit For your best health and recreation. P. Ed. Why at the Tower But, be it as you please. Buck. My lord, your brother's Grace of York.
Enter Duke and Duchess of York.
P. Ed. Richard of York how fares our dearest brother ? [Embracing.