I don't own The Hollow Crown or Shakespeare's.

Epilogue

Richard III the hunchback monstrous. Oh, how cruel that God makes such as the man from thee.

"I doubteth yond i wast madeth by god! f'r thee seeth, if 't be true god is forsooth just and m'rciful then wherefore spareth me? p'rhaps, that gent hath found mine own useth f'r that gent. F'r certes, that gent knoweth yond i wast did create by the Flibbertigibbet as his impish minion. Ha!"

BANG!

He bangs his fist onto the chess board as pieces had fallen out of place and into the floor. Click, clanks. Scattering all over the floors.

In a fit of anger, he looked at the source of his sight. What anger faded into despair was written as he saw a beautiful reddish-black rose. Laying on the table.

Richard tenderly picks up the rose and said, "If 't be true th're is redemption, f'r thee mine own lief sweet kath'rine hadst did love only me. The lady wast mine own passion, desire, and ambition and seeth me f'r me."

Richard pull his rose to his face as he let his caress him. The smell deepened his humane side and happiness that he would never again have in his arms.

"Kath'rine. Sweet kath'rine. Mine own days w're wars and blood. Thee doth careth not f'r what oth'rs seeth me." Richard remembers so fondly that he kept his mistress in the disguise presence of others to know.

"Thee hath called out to me, 'dearest richard!' thee shareth mine own heart and mind m're than yond apparition jointress of Anne Neville. Thee has't mine own whole heart and not flinching in our bodies deepens mine own loveth f'r thee."

Richard slouched onto the tables and looked at the red rose holding close to his sight. "if i wouldst kicketh the bucket the present day, i kneweth yond god wouldst not sendeth me not his angels such as Micheal, Gabriel, 'r Raphael. Nay, t wouldst beest kath'rine who is't soar down from the heavens and taketh me into h'r arms and the w'rld wouldst seeth yond i am not damn'd. I f'rev'r rejoiceth with the one i loveth m're than anyone in this w'rld. M're than i feareth the Flibbertigibbet n'r doth i beareth loveth from god. Kath'rine is whom i loveth and feareth losing."

Richard lets go of the rose as tears are shed from his eyes. Katherine was the only one he had loved and lost from this world.

That was the day he died on the battlefield. However, the light of the heavens shines upon him as he saw his beloved Katherine open her arms as he embraces his beloved.

"dearest richard, i cometh f'rth to bringeth mine own husband in corse and spirit. " Katherine help him off the ground and calmly walked away from his deceased body.

"yes, aye! sweet kath'rine alloweth us leaveth this cruel w'rld and aim f'r the lighteth. The lighteth wast nev'r in mine own fath'r's coronet, but t is thee who is't is mine own lighteth. " Richard walked by her side as they vanished once Henry Tudor wore that crown.

It is a short story by Shakespeare for it. Reviews are welcome. I have written in Shakespearean words.