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.
KING EDWARD.
Away, I say! I charge ye, bear her hence.
QUEEN MARGARET.
So come to you and yours as to this prince!
[She is taken out.]
KING EDWARD.
Where’s Richard gone?
GEORGE.
To London all in post, and, as I guess,
To make a bloody supper in the Tower.
KING EDWARD.
He’s sudden if a thing comes in his head.
Now march we hence. Discharge the common sort
With pay and thanks, and let’s away to London
And see our gentle Queen how well she fares.
By this, I hope, she hath a son for me.
[Exeunt.]