RICHARD.
Look how my ring encompasseth thy finger;
Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart;
Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
And if thy poor devoted servant may
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.
ANNE.
What is it?
RICHARD.
That it may please you leave these sad designs
To him that hath most cause to be a mourner,
And presently repair to Crosby Place;
Where, after I have solemnly interred
At Chertsey monastery this noble King,
And wet his grave with my repentant tears,
I will with all expedient duty see you.
For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you,
Grant me this boon.
ANNE.
With all my heart, and much it joys me too
To see you are become so penitent.
Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.
RICHARD.
Bid me farewell.
ANNE.
’Tis more than you deserve;
But since you teach me how to flatter you,
Imagine I have said farewell already.
[Exeunt Lady Anne, Tressel and Berkeley.]
RICHARD.
Sirs, take up the corse.
GENTLEMAN.
Towards Chertsey, noble lord?
RICHARD.
No, to White Friars; there attend my coming.