The tyrannous and bloody deed is done,

4.3.327062449The most arch-act of piteous massacre

4.3.427072450That ever yet this land was guilty of.

4.3.527082451Dighton and Forrest whom I did suborn

4.3.627092452To do this ruthless piece of butchery --

4.3.727102453Although they were fleshed villains, bloody dogs --

4.3.827112454Melting with tenderness and kind compassion

4.3.927122455Wept like two children in their deaths' sad stories:

4.3.1027132456"Lo, thus," quoth Dighton, "lay those tender babes."

4.3.1127142457"Thus, thus," quoth Forrest, "girdling one another

4.3.1227152458Within their innocent alabaster arms;

4.3.1327162459Their lips were four red roses on a stalk

4.3.1427172460Which in their summer beauty kissed each other;

4.3.1527182461A book of prayers on their pillow lay

4.3.1627192462Which once," quoth Forrest, "almost changed my mind,

4.3.1727202463But oh, the devil -- " There the villain stopped

4.3.1827212464Whilst Dighton thus told on: "We smotherèd

4.3.1927222465The most replenishèd sweet work of Nature,

4.3.2027232466That from the prime creation ever she framed."

4.3.2127242467Thus both are gone with conscience and remorse;

4.3.2227252468They could not speak and so I left them both

4.3.2327262469To bring this tidings to the bloody king.

4.3.2527282470And here he comes: All hail, my sovereign liege.

Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in thy news?

If to have done the thing you gave in charge

4.3.2827312473Beget your happiness, be happy then

4.3.2927322474For it is done, my lord.

But didst thou see them dead?

I did, my lord.

And buried, gentle Tyrrel?

The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them,

4.3.3427372479But how or in what place I do not know.

Come to me Tyrrel soon, at after-supper

4.3.3627392481And thou shalt tell the process of their death.

4.3.3727402482Meantime, but think how I may do thee good

4.3.3827412483And be inheritor of thy desire.

4.3.3927422484Farewell till soon.

4.3.4127442485The son of Clarence have I pent up close,

4.3.4227452486His daughter meanly have I matched in marriage,

4.3.4327462487The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom,

4.3.4427472488And Anne my wife hath bid the world goodnight.

4.3.4527482489Now for I know the Breton Richmond aims

4.3.4627492490At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter,

4.3.4727502491And by that knot looks proudly o'er the crown,

27512492To her I go, a jolly, thriving wooer.

My lord.

Good news or bad that thou com'st in so 2755bluntly?

Bad news my lord, Ely is fled to Richmond,

4.3.5227572496And Buckingham backed with the hardy Welshmen

4.3.5327582497Is in the field, and still his power increaseth.

Ely with Richmond troubles me more near

4.3.5527602499Than Buckingham and his rash-levied army.

4.3.5627612500Come, I have heard that fearful commenting

4.3.5727622501Is leaden servitor to dull delay;

4.3.5827632502Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary.

4.3.5927642503Then fiery expedition be my wing,

4.3.6027652504Jove's Mercury and herald for a king:

4.3.6127662505Come, muster men, my counsel is my shield,

27672506We must be brief when traitors brave the field.