William Shakespeare: The Life and Death of King Richard III

ACT III. 7. SCENE VII. London. Court of Baynard's Castle. (continued)

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 betroth'd
To Bona, sister to the King of France.
These both put off, a poor petitioner,
A care-craz'd mother to a many sons,
A beauty-waning and distressed widow,
Even in the afternoon of her best days,
Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye,
Seduc'd the pitch and height of his degree
To base declension and loath'd 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 proffer'd benefit of dignity;
If not to bless us and the land withal,
Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry
From the corruption of abusing time
Unto a lineal true-derived course.

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!

GLOSTER.
Alas, why would you heap those 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 kindred,
And equally, 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, we will entreat no more.

[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM, the Mayor and citizens retiring.]