GEORGE.
What? What?
RICHARD.
The Tower, the Tower!
[Exit.]
QUEEN MARGARET.
O Ned, sweet Ned, speak to thy mother, boy.
Canst thou not speak? O traitors, murderers!
They that stabbed Caesar shed no blood at all,
Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
If this foul deed were by to equal it.
He was a man; this, in respect, a child,
And men ne’er spend their fury on a child.
What’s worse than murderer, that I may name it?
No, no, my heart will burst an if I speak;
And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.
Butchers and villains, bloody cannibals!
How sweet a plant have you untimely cropped!
You have no children, butchers; if you had,
The thought of them would have stirred up remorse.
But if you ever chance to have a child,
Look in his youth to have him so cut off
As, deathsmen, you have rid this sweet young prince!
KING EDWARD.
Away with her; go bear her hence perforce.
QUEEN MARGARET.
Nay, never bear me hence, dispatch me here.
Here sheathe thy sword; I’ll pardon thee my death.
What, wilt thou not? Then, Clarence, do it thou.
GEORGE.
By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease.
QUEEN MARGARET.
Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.
GEORGE.
Didst thou not hear me swear I would not do it?
QUEEN MARGARET.
Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself.
’Twas sin before, but now ’tis charity.
What, wilt thou not? Where is that devil’s butcher, Richard,
Hard-favoured Richard? Richard, where art thou?
Thou art not here. Murder is thy alms-deed;
Petitioners for blood thou ne’er putt’st back.