will buckle fortune on my back, To bear her burthen, whether I will or no, I must have patience to endure the load: But if black scandal or foul-faced reproach Attend the sequel of your imposition, Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me From all the impure blots and stains thereof; For God he knows, and you may partly see, How far I am from the desire thereof. God bless your grace! we see it, and will say it. In saying so, you shall but say the truth. Then I salute you with this kingly title: Long live Richard, England's royal king! Amen. To-morrow will it please you to be crown'd? Even when you please, since you will have it so. To-morrow, then, we will attend your grace: And so most joyfully we take our leave. Come, let us to our holy task again. Farewell, good cousin; farewell, gentle friends. Who meets us here? my niece Plantagenet Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester? Now, for my life, she's wandering to the Tower, On pure heart's love to greet the tender princes. Daughter, well met. God give your graces both A happy and a joyful time of day! As much to you, good sister! Whither away? No farther than the Tower; and, as I guess, Upon the like devotion as yourselves, To gratulate the gentle princes there. Kind sister, thanks: we'll enter all together. And, in good time, here the lieutenant comes. Master lieutenant, pray you, by your leave, How doth the prince, and my young son of York? Right well, dear madam. By your patience, I may not suffer you to visit them; The king hath straitly charged the contrary. The king! why, who's that? I cry you mercy: I mean the lord protector. The Lord protect him from that kingly title! Hath he set bounds betwixt their love and me? I am their mother; who should keep me from them? I am their fathers mother; I will see them. Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother: Then bring me to their sights; I'll bear thy blame And take thy office from thee, on my peril. No, madam, no; I may not leave it so: I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me. Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence, And I'll salute your grace of York as mother, And reverend looker on, of two fair queens. Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster, There to be crowned Richard's royal queen. O, cut my lace in