K. Rich. Kind Tyrrell, am I happy in thy news? 24
Tyr. If to have done the thing you gave in charge
Beget your happiness, be happy, then,
For it is done.
K. Rich. But didst thou see them dead?
Tyr. I did, my lord.
K. Rich. And buried, gentle Tyrrell? 28
Tyr. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them;
But where, to say the truth, I do not know.
K. Rich. Come to me, Tyrrell, soon, and after supper,
When thou shalt tell the process of their death. 32
Meantime, but think how I may do thee good,
And be inheritor of thy desire.
Farewell till then.
Tyr. I humbly take my leave. [Exit.]
K. Rich. The son of Clarence have I pent up close; 36
His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage;
The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom;
And Anne, my wife, hath bid this world good night.
Now, for I know the Britaine Richmond aims 40
At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter,
And, by that knot, looks proudly on the crown,
To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer.
Enter Ratcliff.
Rat. My lord! 44
K. Rich. Good or bad news, that thou com'st in so bluntly?
Rat. Bad news, my lord: Morton is fled to Richmond;
32 process: narrative
34 inheritor: possessor
36 pent up; cf. n.
37 daughter; cf. n.
38 Abraham's bosom; cf. n.
40 Britaine: Breton; cf. n.
42 knot: i.e. marriage alliance
43 S. d. Ratcliff; cf. n.
46 Morton: John Morton, Bishop of Ely; cf. n.
