2. SCENE II. London. A Room of State in the Palace.
[Flourish of trumpets. RICHARD, as King, upon his throne;
BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, RATCLIFF, LOVEL, a Page, and others.]
Stand all apart--Cousin of Buckingham,--
My gracious sovereign?
Give me thy hand. Thus high, by thy advice
And thy assistance, is King Richard seated:--
But shall we wear these glories for a day?
Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?
Still live they, and for ever let them last!
Ah, Buckingham, now do I play the touch,
To try if thou be current gold indeed:--
Young Edward lives;--think now what I would speak.
Say on, my loving lord.
Why, Buckingham, I say I would be king.
Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned lord.
Ha! am I king? 'tis so: but Edward lives.
True, noble prince.
O bitter consequence,
That Edward still should live,--true, noble Prince!--
Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull:--
Shall I be plain?--I wish the bastards dead;
And I would have it suddenly perform'd.
What say'st thou now? speak suddenly, be brief.
Your grace may do your pleasure.
Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes:
Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?
Give me some little breath, some pause, dear lord,
Before I positively speak in this:
I will resolve your grace immediately.
[Aside.] The king is angry: see, he gnaws his lip.