RATCLIFFE.
My lord!
KING RICHARD.
Good or bad news, that thou com’st in so bluntly?
RATCLIFFE.
Bad news, my lord. Morton is fled to Richmond,
And Buckingham, backed with the hardy Welshmen,
Is in the field, and still his power increaseth.
KING RICHARD.
Ely with Richmond troubles me more near
Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength.
Come, I have learned that fearful commenting
Is leaden servitor to dull delay;
Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary;
Then fiery expedition be my wing,
Jove’s Mercury, and herald for a king!
Go, muster men. My counsel is my shield.
We must be brief when traitors brave the field.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE IV. London. Before the Palace
Enter old Queen Margaret.
QUEEN MARGARET.
So now prosperity begins to mellow,
And drop into the rotten mouth of death.
Here in these confines slily have I lurked
To watch the waning of mine enemies.
A dire induction am I witness to,
And will to France, hoping the consequence
Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.
Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret. Who comes here?
[Retires.]
Enter Duchess of York and Queen Elizabeth.