The citizens are mum, say not a word.

RICHARD 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,

Th‘insatiate 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 face 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 grew toward end,

I bid them that did love their country’s good

Cry ‘God save Richard, England’s royal king!’

RICHARD GLOUCESTER And did they SO?

BUCKINGHAM

No, so God help me. They spake not a word,

But, like dumb statuas 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 spoke 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.

RICHARD GLOUCESTER

What tongueless blocks were they! Would they not speak?

⌈BUCKINGHAM⌉ No, by my troth, my lord.

RICHARD 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 build a holy descant.

And be not easily won to our request.

Play the maid’s part: still answer ‘nay’—and take it.

RICHARD GLOUCESTER

I go. An if you plead as well for them

As I can say nay to thee for myself,

No doubt we’ll bring it to a happy issue.

One knocks within

BUCKINGHAM

Go, go, up to the leads! The Lord Mayor knocks.—

Exit Richard

Enter the Lord Mayor, aldermen, 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 tomorrow, 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 day-bed,

But on his knees at meditation;

Not dallying with a brace of courtesans,

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.

Enter Catesby

Now Catesby, what says his grace?

CATESBY

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 Richard aloft, between two bishops. ⌈Enter Catesby below⌉

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 request,