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第26章 Exit SCENE VII. Baynard's Castle.(2)

But, leaving this, what is your grace's pleasure? BUCKINGHAM Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above, And all good men of this ungovern'd isle. GLOUCESTER I do suspect I have done some offence That seems disgracious in the city's eyes, And that you come to reprehend my ignorance. BUCKINGHAM You have, my lord: would it might please your grace, At our entreaties, to amend that fault! GLOUCESTER Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land? BUCKINGHAM Then know, it is your fault that you resign The supreme seat, the throne majestical, The scepter'd 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:

Whilst, in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts, Which here we waken to our country's good, This noble isle doth want her proper limbs;

Her face defaced with scars of infamy, Her royal stock graft with ignoble plants, And almost shoulder'd in the swallowing gulf Of blind forgetfulness and dark 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 suit come I to move your grace. GLOUCESTER I know not whether 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 season'd with your faithful love to me.

Then, on the other side, I cheque'd 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 my ripe revenue and due by birth Yet so much is my poverty of spirit, So mighty and so many my defects, As I had 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 smother'd.

But, God be thank'd, there's no need of me, And much I need to help you, if need were;

The royal tree hath left us royal fruit, Which, mellow'd 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 what 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 he was contract to Lady Lucy--Your mother lives a witness to that vow--And afterward by substitute betroth'd To Bona, sister to the King of France.

These both put by a poor petitioner, A care-crazed mother of a many children, A beauty-waning and distressed widow, Even in the afternoon of her best days, Made prize and purchase of his lustful eye, Seduced the pitch and height of all his thoughts To base declension and loathed bigamy By her, in his unlawful bed, he got This Edward, whom our manners term 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 proffer'd benefit of dignity;

If non 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. Lord Mayor Do, good my lord, your citizens entreat you. BUCKINGHAM Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer'd love. CATESBY O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit! GLOUCESTER Alas, why would you heap these cares 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 kin, And egally indeed to all estates,--Yet whether 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 them again, my lord, and accept their suit. ANOTHER Do, good my lord, lest all the land do rue it. GLOUCESTER Would you enforce me to a world of care?

Well, call them again. I am not made of stone, But penetrable to your. kind entreats, Albeit against my conscience and my soul.

Re-enter BUCKINGHAM and the rest Cousin of Buckingham, and you sage, grave men, Since you will buckle fortune on my back, To bear her burthen, 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 he knows, and you may partly see, How far I am from the desire thereof. Lord 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 kingly title:

Long live Richard, England's royal king! Lord Mayor Citizens Amen. BUCKINGHAM To-morrow will it please you to be crown'd? GLOUCESTER Even when you please, since 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 task again.

Farewell, good cousin; farewell, gentle friends.

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