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FOR __ COMPLETE SHAKESPEARE **** +["Small Print" V.12.08.93] + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + + + +1593 + +KING RICHARD III + +by William Shakespeare + + +Dramatis Personae + + EDWARD THE FOURTH + + Sons to the King + EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES afterwards KING EDWARD V + RICHARD, DUKE OF YORK, + + Brothers to the King + GEORGE, DUKE OF CLARENCE, + RICHARD, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, afterwards KING RICHARD III + + A YOUNG SON OF CLARENCE (Edward, Earl of Warwick) + HENRY, EARL OF RICHMOND, afterwards KING HENRY VII + CARDINAL BOURCHIER, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY + THOMAS ROTHERHAM, ARCHBISHOP OF YORK + JOHN MORTON, BISHOP OF ELY + DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM + DUKE OF NORFOLK + EARL OF SURREY, his son + EARL RIVERS, brother to King Edward's Queen + MARQUIS OF DORSET and LORD GREY, her sons + EARL OF OXFORD + LORD HASTINGS + LORD LOVEL + LORD STANLEY, called also EARL OF DERBY + SIR THOMAS VAUGHAN + SIR RICHARD RATCLIFF + SIR WILLIAM CATESBY + SIR JAMES TYRREL + SIR JAMES BLOUNT + SIR WALTER HERBERT + SIR WILLIAM BRANDON + SIR ROBERT BRAKENBURY, Lieutenant of the Tower + CHRISTOPHER URSWICK, a priest + LORD MAYOR OF LONDON + SHERIFF OF WILTSHIRE + HASTINGS, a pursuivant + TRESSEL and BERKELEY, gentlemen attending on Lady Anne + ELIZABETH, Queen to King Edward IV + MARGARET, widow of King Henry VI + DUCHESS OF YORK, mother to King Edward IV + LADY ANNE, widow of Edward, Prince of Wales, son to King + Henry VI; afterwards married to the Duke of Gloucester + A YOUNG DAUGHTER OF CLARENCE (Margaret Plantagenet, + Countess of Salisbury) + Ghosts, of Richard's victims + Lords, Gentlemen, and Attendants; Priest, Scrivener, Page, +Bishops, + Aldermen, Citizens, Soldiers, Messengers, Murderers, Keeper + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +SCENE: England + +King Richard the Third + + + +ACT I. SCENE 1. + +London. A street + +Enter RICHARD, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, solus + + GLOUCESTER. Now is the winter of our discontent + Made glorious summer by this sun of York; + And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house + In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. + Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; + Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; + Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, + Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. + Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front, + And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds + To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, + He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber + To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. + But I-that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, + Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass- + I-that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty + To strut before a wanton ambling nymph- + I-that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, + Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, + Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time + Into this breathing world scarce half made up, + And that so lamely and unfashionable + That dogs bark at me as I halt by them- + Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, + Have no delight to pass away the time, + Unless to spy my shadow in the sun + And descant on mine own deformity. + And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover + To entertain these fair well-spoken days, + I am determined to prove a villain + And hate the idle pleasures of these days. + Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, + By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams, + To set my brother Clarence and the King + In deadly hate the one against the other; + And if King Edward be as true and just + As I am subtle, false, and treacherous, + This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up- + About a prophecy which says that G + Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. + Dive, thoughts, down to my soul. Here Clarence comes. + + Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY + + Brother, good day. What means this armed guard + That waits upon your Grace? + CLARENCE. His Majesty, + Tend'ring my person's safety, hath appointed + This conduct to convey me to th' Tower. + GLOUCESTER. Upon what cause? + CLARENCE. Because my name is George. + GLOUCESTER. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours: + He should, for that, commit your godfathers. + O, belike his Majesty hath some intent + That you should be new-christ'ned in the Tower. + But what's the matter, Clarence? May I know? + CLARENCE. Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest + As yet I do not; but, as I can learn, + He hearkens after prophecies and dreams, + And from the cross-row plucks the letter G, + And says a wizard told him that by G + His issue disinherited should be; + And, for my name of George begins with G, + It follows in his thought that I am he. + These, as I learn, and such like toys as these + Hath mov'd his Highness to commit me now. + GLOUCESTER. Why, this it is when men are rul'd by women: + 'Tis not the King that sends you to the Tower; + My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she + That tempers him to this extremity. + Was it not she and that good man of worship, + Antony Woodville, her brother there, + That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower, + From whence this present day he is delivered? + We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe. + CLARENCE. By heaven, I think there is no man is secure + But the Queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds + That trudge betwixt the King and Mistress Shore. + Heard you not what an humble suppliant + Lord Hastings was, for her delivery? + GLOUCESTER. Humbly complaining to her deity + Got my Lord Chamberlain his liberty. + I'll tell you what-I think it is our way, + If we will keep in favour with the King, + To be her men and wear her livery: + The jealous o'er-worn widow, and herself, + Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen, + Are mighty gossips in our monarchy. + BRAKENBURY. I beseech your Graces both to pardon me: + His Majesty hath straitly given in charge + That no man shall have private conference, + Of what degree soever, with your brother. + GLOUCESTER. Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury, + You may partake of any thing we say: + We speak no treason, man; we say the King + Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen + Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous; + We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot, + A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; + And that the Queen's kindred are made gentlefolks. + How say you, sir? Can you deny all this? + BRAKENBURY. With this, my lord, myself have naught to do. + GLOUCESTER. Naught to do with Mistress Shore! I tell thee, + fellow, + He that doth naught with her, excepting one, + Were best to do it secretly alone. + BRAKENBURY. What one, my lord? + GLOUCESTER. Her husband, knave! Wouldst thou betray me? + BRAKENBURY. I do beseech your Grace to pardon me, and + withal + Forbear your conference with the noble Duke. + CLARENCE. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will + obey. + GLOUCESTER. We are the Queen's abjects and must obey. + Brother, farewell; I will unto the King; + And whatsoe'er you will employ me in- + Were it to call King Edward's widow sister- + I will perform it to enfranchise you. + Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood + Touches me deeper than you can imagine. + CLARENCE. I know it pleaseth neither of us well. + GLOUCESTER. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long; + I will deliver or else lie for you. + Meantime, have patience. + CLARENCE. I must perforce. Farewell. + Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and guard + GLOUCESTER. Go tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return. + Simple, plain Clarence, I do love thee so + That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, + If heaven will take the present at our hands. + But who comes here? The new-delivered Hastings? + + Enter LORD HASTINGS + + HASTINGS. Good time of day unto my gracious lord! + GLOUCESTER. As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain! + Well are you welcome to the open air. + How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment? + HASTINGS. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must; + But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks + That were the cause of my imprisonment. + GLOUCESTER. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; + For they that were your enemies are his, + And have prevail'd as much on him as you. + HASTINGS. More pity that the eagles should be mew'd + Whiles kites and buzzards prey at liberty. + GLOUCESTER. What news abroad? + HASTINGS. No news so bad abroad as this at home: + The King is sickly, weak, and melancholy, + And his physicians fear him mightily. + GLOUCESTER. Now, by Saint John, that news is bad indeed. + O, he hath kept an evil diet long + And overmuch consum'd his royal person! + 'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. + Where is he? In his bed? + HASTINGS. He is. + GLOUCESTER. Go you before, and I will follow you. + Exit HASTINGS + He cannot live, I hope, and must not die + Till George be pack'd with posthorse up to heaven. + I'll in to urge his hatred more to Clarence + With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments; + And, if I fail not in my deep intent, + Clarence hath not another day to live; + Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy, + And leave the world for me to bustle in! + For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter. + What though I kill'd her husband and her father? + The readiest way to make the wench amends + Is to become her husband and her father; + The which will I-not all so much for love + As for another secret close intent + By marrying her which I must reach unto. + But yet I run before my horse to market. + Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns; + When they are gone, then must I count my gains. Exit + + + + +SCENE 2. + +London. Another street + +Enter corpse of KING HENRY THE SIXTH, with halberds to guard it; +LADY ANNE being the mourner, attended by TRESSEL and BERKELEY + + ANNE. Set down, set down your honourable load- + If honour may be shrouded in a hearse; + Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament + Th' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster. + Poor key-cold figure of a holy king! + Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster! + Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood! + Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost + To hear the lamentations of poor Anne, + Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son, + Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these wounds. + Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life + I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes. + O, cursed be the hand that made these holes! + Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it! + Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence! + More direful hap betide that hated wretch + That makes us wretched by the death of thee + Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads, + Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives! + If ever he have child, abortive be it, + Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, + Whose ugly and unnatural aspect + May fright the hopeful mother at the view, + And that be heir to his unhappiness! + If ever he have wife, let her be made + More miserable by the death of him + Than I am made by my young lord and thee! + Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, + Taken from Paul's to be interred there; + And still as you are weary of this weight + Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse. + [The bearers take up the coffin] + + Enter GLOUCESTER + + GLOUCESTER. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. + ANNE. What black magician conjures up this fiend + To stop devoted charitable deeds? + GLOUCESTER. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, + I'll make a corse of him that disobeys! + FIRST GENTLEMAN. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin + pass. + GLOUCESTER. Unmanner'd dog! Stand thou, when I command. + Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, + Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot + And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. + [The bearers set down the coffin] + ANNE. What, do you tremble? Are you all afraid? + Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortal, + And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil. + Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell! + Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, + His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone. + GLOUCESTER. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. + ANNE. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence and trouble us not; + For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell + Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. + If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, + Behold this pattern of thy butcheries. + O, gentlemen, see, see! Dead Henry's wounds + Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh. + Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity, + For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood + From cold and empty veins where no blood dwells; + Thy deeds inhuman and unnatural + Provokes this deluge most unnatural. + O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death! + O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his death! + Either, heav'n, with lightning strike the murd'rer dead; + Or, earth, gape open wide and eat him quick, + As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood, + Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered. + GLOUCESTER. Lady, you know no rules of charity, + Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. + ANNE. Villain, thou knowest nor law of God nor man: + No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. + GLOUCESTER. But I know none, and therefore am no beast. + ANNE. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth! + GLOUCESTER. More wonderful when angels are so angry. + Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, + Of these supposed crimes to give me leave + By circumstance but to acquit myself. + ANNE. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, + Of these known evils but to give me leave + By circumstance to accuse thy cursed self. + GLOUCESTER. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have + Some patient leisure to excuse myself. + ANNE. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make + No excuse current but to hang thyself. + GLOUCESTER. By such despair I should accuse myself. + ANNE. And by despairing shalt thou stand excused + For doing worthy vengeance on thyself + That didst unworthy slaughter upon others. + GLOUCESTER. Say that I slew them not? + ANNE. Then say they were not slain. + But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee. + GLOUCESTER. I did not kill your husband. + ANNE. Why, then he is alive. + GLOUCESTER. Nay, he is dead, and slain by Edward's hands. + ANNE. In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw + Thy murd'rous falchion smoking in his blood; + The which thou once didst bend against her breast, + But that thy brothers beat aside the point. + GLOUCESTER. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue + That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. + ANNE. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind, + That never dream'st on aught but butcheries. + Didst thou not kill this king? + GLOUCESTER. I grant ye. + ANNE. Dost grant me, hedgehog? Then, God grant me too + Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed! + O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous! + GLOUCESTER. The better for the King of Heaven, that hath + him. + ANNE. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. + GLOUCESTER. Let him thank me that holp to send him + thither, + For he was fitter for that place than earth. + ANNE. And thou unfit for any place but hell. + GLOUCESTER. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. + ANNE. Some dungeon. + GLOUCESTER. Your bed-chamber. + ANNE. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest! + GLOUCESTER. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. + ANNE. I hope so. + GLOUCESTER. I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, + To leave this keen encounter of our wits, + And fall something into a slower method- + Is not the causer of the timeless deaths + Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, + As blameful as the executioner? + ANNE. Thou wast the cause and most accurs'd effect. + GLOUCESTER. Your beauty was the cause of that effect- + Your beauty that did haunt me in my sleep + To undertake the death of all the world + So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. + ANNE. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, + These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. + GLOUCESTER. These eyes could not endure that beauty's + wreck; + You should not blemish it if I stood by. + As all the world is cheered by the sun, + So I by that; it is my day, my life. + ANNE. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life! + GLOUCESTER. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both. + ANNE. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee. + GLOUCESTER. It is a quarrel most unnatural, + To be reveng'd on him that loveth thee. + ANNE. It is a quarrel just and reasonable, + To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband. + GLOUCESTER. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband + Did it to help thee to a better husband. + ANNE. His better doth not breathe upon the earth. + GLOUCESTER. He lives that loves thee better than he could. + ANNE. Name him. + GLOUCESTER. Plantagenet. + ANNE. Why, that was he. + GLOUCESTER. The self-same name, but one of better nature. + ANNE. Where is he? + GLOUCESTER. Here. [She spits at him] Why dost thou spit + at me? + ANNE. Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! + GLOUCESTER. Never came poison from so sweet a place. + ANNE. Never hung poison on a fouler toad. + Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes. + GLOUCESTER. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. + ANNE. Would they were basilisks to strike thee dead! + GLOUCESTER. I would they were, that I might die at once; + For now they kill me with a living death. + Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, + Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops- + These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear, + No, when my father York and Edward wept + To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made + When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at him; + Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, + Told the sad story of my father's death, + And twenty times made pause to sob and weep + That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks + Like trees bedash'd with rain-in that sad time + My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; + And what these sorrows could not thence exhale + Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping. + I never sued to friend nor enemy; + My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word; + But, now thy beauty is propos'd my fee, + My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. + [She looks scornfully at him] + Teach not thy lip such scorn; for it was made + For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. + If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, + Lo here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; + Which if thou please to hide in this true breast + And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, + I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, + And humbly beg the death upon my knee. + [He lays his breast open; she offers at it with his sword] + Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry- + But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. + Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward- + But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. + [She falls the sword] + Take up the sword again, or take up me. + ANNE. Arise, dissembler; though I wish thy death, + I will not be thy executioner. + GLOUCESTER. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. + ANNE. I have already. + GLOUCESTER. That was in thy rage. + Speak it again, and even with the word + This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love, + Shall for thy love kill a far truer love; + To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. + ANNE. I would I knew thy heart. + GLOUCESTER. 'Tis figur'd in my tongue. + ANNE. I fear me both are false. + GLOUCESTER. Then never was man true. + ANNE. well put up your sword. + GLOUCESTER. Say, then, my peace is made. + ANNE. That shalt thou know hereafter. + GLOUCESTER. But shall I live in hope? + ANNE. All men, I hope, live so. + GLOUCESTER. Vouchsafe to wear this ring. + ANNE. To take is not to give. [Puts on the ring] + GLOUCESTER. Look how my ring encompasseth thy finger, + Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; + Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. + And if thy poor devoted servant may + But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, + Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. + ANNE. What is it? + GLOUCESTER. That it may please you leave these sad designs + To him that hath most cause to be a mourner, + And presently repair to Crosby House; + Where-after I have solemnly interr'd + At Chertsey monast'ry this noble king, + And wet his grave with my repentant tears- + I will with all expedient duty see you. + For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you, + Grant me this boon. + ANNE. With all my heart; and much it joys me too + To see you are become so penitent. + Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me. + GLOUCESTER. Bid me farewell. + ANNE. 'Tis more than you deserve; + But since you teach me how to flatter you, + Imagine I have said farewell already. + Exeunt two GENTLEMEN With LADY ANNE + GLOUCESTER. Sirs, take up the corse. + GENTLEMEN. Towards Chertsey, noble lord? + GLOUCESTER. No, to White Friars; there attend my coming. + Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? + Was ever woman in this humour won? + I'll have her; but I will not keep her long. + What! I that kill'd her husband and his father- + To take her in her heart's extremest hate, + With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, + The bleeding witness of my hatred by; + Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, + And I no friends to back my suit at all + But the plain devil and dissembling looks, + And yet to win her, all the world to nothing! + Ha! + Hath she forgot already that brave prince, + Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since, + Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury? + A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman- + Fram'd in the prodigality of nature, + Young, valiant, wise, and no doubt right royal- + The spacious world cannot again afford; + And will she yet abase her eyes on me, + That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince + And made her widow to a woeful bed? + On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? + On me, that halts and am misshapen thus? + My dukedom to a beggarly denier, + I do mistake my person all this while. + Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, + Myself to be a marv'llous proper man. + I'll be at charges for a looking-glass, + And entertain a score or two of tailors + To study fashions to adorn my body. + Since I am crept in favour with myself, + I will maintain it with some little cost. + But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave, + And then return lamenting to my love. + Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, + That I may see my shadow as I pass. Exit + + + + +SCENE 3. + +London. The palace + +Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, LORD RIVERS, and LORD GREY + + RIVERS. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt his Majesty + Will soon recover his accustom'd health. + GREY. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse; + Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, + And cheer his Grace with quick and merry eyes. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. If he were dead, what would betide on + me? + GREY. No other harm but loss of such a lord. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. The loss of such a lord includes all + harms. + GREY. The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son + To be your comforter when he is gone. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, he is young; and his minority + Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester, + A man that loves not me, nor none of you. + RIVER. Is it concluded he shall be Protector? + QUEEN ELIZABETH. It is determin'd, not concluded yet; + But so it must be, if the King miscarry. + + Enter BUCKINGHAM and DERBY + + GREY. Here come the Lords of Buckingham and Derby. + BUCKINGHAM. Good time of day unto your royal Grace! + DERBY. God make your Majesty joyful as you have been. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. The Countess Richmond, good my Lord + of Derby, + To your good prayer will scarcely say amen. + Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she's your wife + And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd + I hate not you for her proud arrogance. + DERBY. I do beseech you, either not believe + The envious slanders of her false accusers; + Or, if she be accus'd on true report, + Bear with her weakness, which I think proceeds + From wayward sickness and no grounded malice. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Saw you the King to-day, my Lord of + Derby? + DERBY. But now the Duke of Buckingham and I + Are come from visiting his Majesty. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. What likelihood of his amendment, + Lords? + BUCKINGHAM. Madam, good hope; his Grace speaks + cheerfully. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. God grant him health! Did you confer + with him? + BUCKINGHAM. Ay, madam; he desires to make atonement + Between the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers, + And between them and my Lord Chamberlain; + And sent to warn them to his royal presence. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Would all were well! But that will + never be. + I fear our happiness is at the height. + + Enter GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET + + GLOUCESTER. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it. + Who is it that complains unto the King + That I, forsooth, am stern and love them not? + By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly + That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours. + Because I cannot flatter and look fair, + Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, + Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, + I must be held a rancorous enemy. + Cannot a plain man live and think no harm + But thus his simple truth must be abus'd + With silken, sly, insinuating Jacks? + GREY. To who in all this presence speaks your Grace? + GLOUCESTER. To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace. + When have I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong, + Or thee, or thee, or any of your faction? + A plague upon you all! His royal Grace- + Whom God preserve better than you would wish!- + Cannot be quiet searce a breathing while + But you must trouble him with lewd complaints. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the + matter. + The King, on his own royal disposition + And not provok'd by any suitor else- + Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred + That in your outward action shows itself + Against my children, brothers, and myself- + Makes him to send that he may learn the ground. + GLOUCESTER. I cannot tell; the world is grown so bad + That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. + Since every Jack became a gentleman, + There's many a gentle person made a Jack. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Come, come, we know your meaning, + brother Gloucester: + You envy my advancement and my friends'; + God grant we never may have need of you! + GLOUCESTER. Meantime, God grants that I have need of you. + Our brother is imprison'd by your means, + Myself disgrac'd, and the nobility + Held in contempt; while great promotions + Are daily given to ennoble those + That scarce some two days since were worth a noble. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. By Him that rais'd me to this careful + height + From that contented hap which I enjoy'd, + I never did incense his Majesty + Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been + An earnest advocate to plead for him. + My lord, you do me shameful injury + Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. + GLOUCESTER. You may deny that you were not the mean + Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment. + RIVERS. She may, my lord; for- + GLOUCESTER. She may, Lord Rivers? Why, who knows + not so? + She may do more, sir, than denying that: + She may help you to many fair preferments + And then deny her aiding hand therein, + And lay those honours on your high desert. + What may she not? She may-ay, marry, may she- + RIVERS. What, marry, may she? + GLOUCESTER. What, marry, may she? Marry with a king, + A bachelor, and a handsome stripling too. + Iwis your grandam had a worser match. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long + borne + Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs. + By heaven, I will acquaint his Majesty + Of those gross taunts that oft I have endur'd. + I had rather be a country servant-maid + Than a great queen with this condition- + To be so baited, scorn'd, and stormed at. + + Enter old QUEEN MARGARET, behind + + Small joy have I in being England's Queen. + QUEEN MARGARET. And less'ned be that small, God, I + beseech Him! + Thy honour, state, and seat, is due to me. + GLOUCESTER. What! Threat you me with telling of the + King? + Tell him and spare not. Look what I have said + I will avouch't in presence of the King. + I dare adventure to be sent to th' Tow'r. + 'Tis time to speak-my pains are quite forgot. + QUEEN MARGARET. Out, devil! I do remember them to + well: + Thou kill'dst my husband Henry in the Tower, + And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. + GLOUCESTER. Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband + King, + I was a pack-horse in his great affairs, + A weeder-out of his proud adversaries, + A liberal rewarder of his friends; + To royalize his blood I spent mine own. + QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, and much better blood than his or + thine. + GLOUCESTER. In all which time you and your husband Grey + Were factious for the house of Lancaster; + And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband + In Margaret's battle at Saint Albans slain? + Let me put in your minds, if you forget, + What you have been ere this, and what you are; + Withal, what I have been, and what I am. + QUEEN MARGARET. A murd'rous villain, and so still thou art. + GLOUCESTER. Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick, + Ay, and forswore himself-which Jesu pardon!- + QUEEN MARGARET. Which God revenge! + GLOUCESTER. To fight on Edward's party for the crown; + And for his meed, poor lord, he is mewed up. + I would to God my heart were flint like Edward's, + Or Edward's soft and pitiful like mine. + I am too childish-foolish for this world. + QUEEN MARGARET. Hie thee to hell for shame and leave this + world, + Thou cacodemon; there thy kingdom is. + RIVERS. My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days + Which here you urge to prove us enemies, + We follow'd then our lord, our sovereign king. + So should we you, if you should be our king. + GLOUCESTER. If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar. + Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof! + QUEEN ELIZABETH. As little joy, my lord, as you suppose + You should enjoy were you this country's king, + As little joy you may suppose in me + That I enjoy, being the Queen thereof. + QUEEN MARGARET. As little joy enjoys the Queen thereof; + For I am she, and altogether joyless. + I can no longer hold me patient. [Advancing] + Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out + In sharing that which you have pill'd from me. + Which of you trembles not that looks on me? + If not that, I am Queen, you bow like subjects, + Yet that, by you depos'd, you quake like rebels? + Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away! + GLOUCESTER. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in my + sight? + QUEEN MARGARET. But repetition of what thou hast marr'd, + That will I make before I let thee go. + GLOUCESTER. Wert thou not banished on pain of death? + QUEEN MARGARET. I was; but I do find more pain in + banishment + Than death can yield me here by my abode. + A husband and a son thou ow'st to me; + And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance. + This sorrow that I have by right is yours; + And all the pleasures you usurp are mine. + GLOUCESTER. The curse my noble father laid on thee, + When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper + And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes, + And then to dry them gav'st the Duke a clout + Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland- + His curses then from bitterness of soul + Denounc'd against thee are all fall'n upon thee; + And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. So just is God to right the innocent. + HASTINGS. O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, + And the most merciless that e'er was heard of! + RIVERS. Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. + DORSET. No man but prophesied revenge for it. + BUCKINGHAM. Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. + QUEEN MARGARET. What, were you snarling all before I came, + Ready to catch each other by the throat, + And turn you all your hatred now on me? + Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven + That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, + Their kingdom's loss, my woeful banishment, + Should all but answer for that peevish brat? + Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven? + Why then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses! + Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, + As ours by murder, to make him a king! + Edward thy son, that now is Prince of Wales, + For Edward our son, that was Prince of Wales, + Die in his youth by like untimely violence! + Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, + Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self! + Long mayest thou live to wail thy children's death, + And see another, as I see thee now, + Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine! + Long die thy happy days before thy death; + And, after many length'ned hours of grief, + Die neither mother, wife, nor England's Queen! + Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by, + And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son + Was stabb'd with bloody daggers. God, I pray him, + That none of you may live his natural age, + But by some unlook'd accident cut off! + GLOUCESTER. Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd + hag. + QUEEN MARGARET. And leave out thee? Stay, dog, for thou + shalt hear me. + If heaven have any grievous plague in store + Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, + O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe, + And then hurl down their indignation + On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace! + The worm of conscience still be-gnaw thy soul! + Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st, + And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends! + No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, + Unless it be while some tormenting dream + Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils! + Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog, + Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity + The slave of nature and the son of hell, + Thou slander of thy heavy mother's womb, + Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins, + Thou rag of honour, thou detested- + GLOUCESTER. Margaret! + QUEEN MARGARET. Richard! + GLOUCESTER. Ha? + QUEEN MARGARET. I call thee not. + GLOUCESTER. I cry thee mercy then, for I did think + That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names. + QUEEN MARGARET. Why, so I did, but look'd for no reply. + O, let me make the period to my curse! + GLOUCESTER. 'Tis done by me, and ends in-Margaret. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Thus have you breath'd your curse + against yourself. + QUEEN MARGARET. Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my + fortune! + Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider + Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? + Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. + The day will come that thou shalt wish for me + To help thee curse this poisonous bunch-back'd toad. + HASTINGS. False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse, + Lest to thy harm thou move our patience. + QUEEN MARGARET. Foul shame upon you! you have all + mov'd mine. + RIVERS. Were you well serv'd, you would be taught your + duty. + QUEEN MARGARET. To serve me well you all should do me + duty, + Teach me to be your queen and you my subjects. + O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty! + DORSET. Dispute not with her; she is lunatic. + QUEEN MARGARET. Peace, Master Marquis, you are malapert; + Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current. + O, that your young nobility could judge + What 'twere to lose it and be miserable! + They that stand high have many blasts to shake them, + And if they fall they dash themselves to pieces. + GLOUCESTER. Good counsel, marry; learn it, learn it, Marquis. + DORSET. It touches you, my lord, as much as me. + GLOUCESTER. Ay, and much more; but I was born so high, + Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top, + And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun. + QUEEN MARGARET. And turns the sun to shade-alas! alas! + Witness my son, now in the shade of death, + Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath + Hath in eternal darkness folded up. + Your aery buildeth in our aery's nest. + O God that seest it, do not suffer it; + As it is won with blood, lost be it so! + BUCKINGHAM. Peace, peace, for shame, if not for charity! + QUEEN MARGARET. Urge neither charity nor shame to me. + Uncharitably with me have you dealt, + And shamefully my hopes by you are butcher'd. + My charity is outrage, life my shame; + And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage! + BUCKINGHAM. Have done, have done. + QUEEN MARGARET. O princely Buckingham, I'll kiss thy + hand + In sign of league and amity with thee. + Now fair befall thee and thy noble house! + Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, + Nor thou within the compass of my curse. + BUCKINGHAM. Nor no one here; for curses never pass + The lips of those that breathe them in the air. + QUEEN MARGARET. I will not think but they ascend the sky + And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. + O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog! + Look when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites, + His venom tooth will rankle to the death: + Have not to do with him, beware of him; + Sin, death, and hell, have set their marks on him, + And all their ministers attend on him. + GLOUCESTER. What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham? + BUCKINGHAM. Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. + QUEEN MARGARET. What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle + counsel, + And soothe the devil that I warn thee from? + O, but remember this another day, + When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow, + And say poor Margaret was a prophetess! + Live each of you the subjects to his hate, + And he to yours, and all of you to God's! Exit + BUCKINGHAM. My hair doth stand an end to hear her curses. + RIVERS. And so doth mine. I muse why she's at liberty. + GLOUCESTER. I cannot blame her; by God's holy Mother, + She hath had too much wrong; and I repent + My part thereof that I have done to her. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. I never did her any to my knowledge. + GLOUCESTER. Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong. + I was too hot to do somebody good + That is too cold in thinking of it now. + Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid; + He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains; + God pardon them that are the cause thereof! + RIVERS. A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion, + To pray for them that have done scathe to us! + GLOUCESTER. So do I ever- [Aside] being well advis'd; + For had I curs'd now, I had curs'd myself. + + Enter CATESBY + + CATESBY. Madam, his Majesty doth can for you, + And for your Grace, and you, my gracious lords. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Catesby, I come. Lords, will you go + with me? + RIVERS. We wait upon your Grace. + Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + GLOUCESTER. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. + The secret mischiefs that I set abroach + I lay unto the grievous charge of others. + Clarence, who I indeed have cast in darkness, + I do beweep to many simple gulls; + Namely, to Derby, Hastings, Buckingham; + And tell them 'tis the Queen and her allies + That stir the King against the Duke my brother. + Now they believe it, and withal whet me + To be reveng'd on Rivers, Dorset, Grey; + But then I sigh and, with a piece of Scripture, + Tell them that God bids us do good for evil. + And thus I clothe my naked villainy + With odd old ends stol'n forth of holy writ, + And seem a saint when most I play the devil. + + Enter two MURDERERS + + But, soft, here come my executioners. + How now, my hardy stout resolved mates! + Are you now going to dispatch this thing? + FIRST MURDERER. We are, my lord, and come to have the + warrant, + That we may be admitted where he is. + GLOUCESTER. Well thought upon; I have it here about me. + [Gives the warrant] + When you have done, repair to Crosby Place. + But, sirs, be sudden in the execution, + Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead; + For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps + May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him. + FIRST MURDERER. Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand to + prate; + Talkers are no good doers. Be assur'd + We go to use our hands and not our tongues. + GLOUCESTER. Your eyes drop millstones when fools' eyes fall + tears. + I like you, lads; about your business straight; + Go, go, dispatch. + FIRST MURDERER. We will, my noble lord. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 4. + +London. The Tower + +Enter CLARENCE and KEEPER + + KEEPER. Why looks your Grace so heavily to-day? + CLARENCE. O, I have pass'd a miserable night, + So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, + That, as I am a Christian faithful man, + I would not spend another such a night + Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days- + So full of dismal terror was the time! + KEEPER. What was your dream, my lord? I pray you + tell me. + CLARENCE. Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower + And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy; + And in my company my brother Gloucester, + Who from my cabin tempted me to walk + Upon the hatches. Thence we look'd toward England, + And cited up a thousand heavy times, + During the wars of York and Lancaster, + That had befall'n us. As we pac'd along + Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, + Methought that Gloucester stumbled, and in falling + Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard + Into the tumbling billows of the main. + O Lord, methought what pain it was to drown, + What dreadful noise of waters in my ears, + What sights of ugly death within my eyes! + Methoughts I saw a thousand fearful wrecks, + A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon, + Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, + Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, + All scatt'red in the bottom of the sea; + Some lay in dead men's skulls, and in the holes + Where eyes did once inhabit there were crept, + As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems, + That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep + And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatt'red by. + KEEPER. Had you such leisure in the time of death + To gaze upon these secrets of the deep? + CLARENCE. Methought I had; and often did I strive + To yield the ghost, but still the envious flood + Stopp'd in my soul and would not let it forth + To find the empty, vast, and wand'ring air; + But smother'd it within my panting bulk, + Who almost burst to belch it in the sea. + KEEPER. Awak'd you not in this sore agony? + CLARENCE. No, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life. + O, then began the tempest to my soul! + I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood + With that sour ferryman which poets write of, + Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. + The first that there did greet my stranger soul + Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick, + Who spake aloud 'What scourge for perjury + Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?' + And so he vanish'd. Then came wand'ring by + A shadow like an angel, with bright hair + Dabbled in blood, and he shriek'd out aloud + 'Clarence is come-false, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence, + That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury. + Seize on him, Furies, take him unto torment!' + With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends + Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears + Such hideous cries that, with the very noise, + I trembling wak'd, and for a season after + Could not believe but that I was in hell, + Such terrible impression made my dream. + KEEPER. No marvel, lord, though it affrighted you; + I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it. + CLARENCE. Ah, Keeper, Keeper, I have done these things + That now give evidence against my soul + For Edward's sake, and see how he requites me! + O God! If my deep prayers cannot appease Thee, + But Thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds, + Yet execute Thy wrath in me alone; + O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children! + KEEPER, I prithee sit by me awhile; + My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. + KEEPER. I will, my lord. God give your Grace good rest. + [CLARENCE sleeps] + + Enter BRAKENBURY the Lieutenant + + BRAKENBURY. Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, + Makes the night morning and the noontide night. + Princes have but their titles for their glories, + An outward honour for an inward toil; + And for unfelt imaginations + They often feel a world of restless cares, + So that between their tides and low name + There's nothing differs but the outward fame. + + Enter the two MURDERERS + + FIRST MURDERER. Ho! who's here? + BRAKENBURY. What wouldst thou, fellow, and how cam'st + thou hither? + FIRST MURDERER. I would speak with Clarence, and I came + hither on my legs. + BRAKENBURY. What, so brief? + SECOND MURDERER. 'Tis better, sir, than to be tedious. Let + him see our commission and talk no more. + [BRAKENBURY reads it] + BRAKENBURY. I am, in this, commanded to deliver + The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands. + I will not reason what is meant hereby, + Because I will be guiltless from the meaning. + There lies the Duke asleep; and there the keys. + I'll to the King and signify to him + That thus I have resign'd to you my charge. + FIRST MURDERER. You may, sir; 'tis a point of wisdom. Fare + you well. Exeunt BRAKENBURY and KEEPER + SECOND MURDERER. What, shall I stab him as he sleeps? + FIRST MURDERER. No; he'll say 'twas done cowardly, when + he wakes. + SECOND MURDERER. Why, he shall never wake until the great + judgment-day. + FIRST MURDERER. Why, then he'll say we stabb'd him + sleeping. + SECOND MURDERER. The urging of that word judgment hath + bred a kind of remorse in me. + FIRST MURDERER. What, art thou afraid? + SECOND MURDERER. Not to kill him, having a warrant; but to + be damn'd for killing him, from the which no warrant can + defend me. + FIRST MURDERER. I thought thou hadst been resolute. + SECOND MURDERER. So I am, to let him live. + FIRST MURDERER. I'll back to the Duke of Gloucester and + tell him so. + SECOND MURDERER. Nay, I prithee, stay a little. I hope this + passionate humour of mine will change; it was wont to + hold me but while one tells twenty. + FIRST MURDERER. How dost thou feel thyself now? + SECOND MURDERER. Faith, some certain dregs of conscience + are yet within me. + FIRST MURDERER. Remember our reward, when the deed's + done. + SECOND MURDERER. Zounds, he dies; I had forgot the reward. + FIRST MURDERER. Where's thy conscience now? + SECOND MURDERER. O, in the Duke of Gloucester's purse! + FIRST MURDERER. When he opens his purse to give us our + reward, thy conscience flies out. + SECOND MURDERER. 'Tis no matter; let it go; there's few or + none will entertain it. + FIRST MURDERER. What if it come to thee again? + SECOND MURDERER. I'll not meddle with it-it makes a man + coward: a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him; a man + cannot swear, but it checks him; a man cannot lie with his + neighbour's wife, but it detects him. 'Tis a blushing shame- + fac'd spirit that mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills a man + full of obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold + that-by chance I found. It beggars any man that keeps it. + It is turn'd out of towns and cities for a dangerous thing; + and every man that means to live well endeavours to trust + to himself and live without it. + FIRST MURDERER. Zounds, 'tis even now at my elbow, + persuading me not to kill the Duke. + SECOND MURDERER. Take the devil in thy mind and believe + him not; he would insinuate with thee but to make thee + sigh. + FIRST MURDERER. I am strong-fram'd; he cannot prevail with + me. + SECOND MURDERER. Spoke like a tall man that respects thy + reputation. Come, shall we fall to work? + FIRST MURDERER. Take him on the costard with the hilts of + thy sword, and then chop him in the malmsey-butt in the + next room. + SECOND MURDERER. O excellent device! and make a sop of + him. + FIRST MURDERER. Soft! he wakes. + SECOND MURDERER. Strike! + FIRST MURDERER. No, we'll reason with him. + CLARENCE. Where art thou, Keeper? Give me a cup of wine. + SECOND MURDERER. You shall have wine enough, my lord, + anon. + CLARENCE. In God's name, what art thou? + FIRST MURDERER. A man, as you are. + CLARENCE. But not as I am, royal. + SECOND MURDERER. Nor you as we are, loyal. + CLARENCE. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. + FIRST MURDERER. My voice is now the King's, my looks + mine own. + CLARENCE. How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak! + Your eyes do menace me. Why look you pale? + Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come? + SECOND MURDERER. To, to, to- + CLARENCE. To murder me? + BOTH MURDERERS. Ay, ay. + CLARENCE. You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so, + And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. + Wherein, my friends, have I offended you? + FIRST MURDERER. Offended us you have not, but the King. + CLARENCE. I shall be reconcil'd to him again. + SECOND MURDERER. Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die. + CLARENCE. Are you drawn forth among a world of men + To slay the innocent? What is my offence? + Where is the evidence that doth accuse me? + What lawful quest have given their verdict up + Unto the frowning judge, or who pronounc'd + The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? + Before I be convict by course of law, + To threaten me with death is most unlawful. + I charge you, as you hope to have redemption + By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins, + That you depart and lay no hands on me. + The deed you undertake is damnable. + FIRST MURDERER. What we will do, we do upon command. + SECOND MURDERER. And he that hath commanded is our + King. + CLARENCE. Erroneous vassals! the great King of kings + Hath in the tables of his law commanded + That thou shalt do no murder. Will you then + Spurn at his edict and fulfil a man's? + Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hand + To hurl upon their heads that break his law. + SECOND MURDERER. And that same vengeance doth he hurl + on thee + For false forswearing, and for murder too; + Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight + In quarrel of the house of Lancaster. + FIRST MURDERER. And like a traitor to the name of God + Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade + Unripp'dst the bowels of thy sov'reign's son. + SECOND MURDERER. Whom thou wast sworn to cherish and + defend. + FIRST MURDERER. How canst thou urge God's dreadful law + to us, + When thou hast broke it in such dear degree? + CLARENCE. Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed? + For Edward, for my brother, for his sake. + He sends you not to murder me for this, + For in that sin he is as deep as I. + If God will be avenged for the deed, + O, know you yet He doth it publicly. + Take not the quarrel from His pow'rful arm; + He needs no indirect or lawless course + To cut off those that have offended Him. + FIRST MURDERER. Who made thee then a bloody minister + When gallant-springing brave Plantagenet, + That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? + CLARENCE. My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. + FIRST MURDERER. Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy + faults, + Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee. + CLARENCE. If you do love my brother, hate not me; + I am his brother, and I love him well. + If you are hir'd for meed, go back again, + And I will send you to my brother Gloucester, + Who shall reward you better for my life + Than Edward will for tidings of my death. + SECOND MURDERER. You are deceiv'd: your brother Gloucester + hates you. + CLARENCE. O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear. + Go you to him from me. + FIRST MURDERER. Ay, so we will. + CLARENCE. Tell him when that our princely father York + Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm + And charg'd us from his soul to love each other, + He little thought of this divided friendship. + Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep. + FIRST MURDERER. Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd us to weep. + CLARENCE. O, do not slander him, for he is kind. + FIRST MURDERER. Right, as snow in harvest. Come, you + deceive yourself: + 'Tis he that sends us to destroy you here. + CLARENCE. It cannot be; for he bewept my fortune + And hugg'd me in his arms, and swore with sobs + That he would labour my delivery. + FIRST MURDERER. Why, so he doth, when he delivers you + From this earth's thraldom to the joys of heaven. + SECOND MURDERER. Make peace with God, for you must die, + my lord. + CLARENCE. Have you that holy feeling in your souls + To counsel me to make my peace with God, + And are you yet to your own souls so blind + That you will war with God by murd'ring me? + O, sirs, consider: they that set you on + To do this deed will hate you for the deed. + SECOND MURDERER. What shall we do? + CLARENCE. Relent, and save your souls. + FIRST MURDERER. Relent! No, 'tis cowardly and womanish. + CLARENCE. Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish. + Which of you, if you were a prince's son, + Being pent from liberty as I am now, + If two such murderers as yourselves came to you, + Would not entreat for life? + My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks; + O, if thine eye be not a flatterer, + Come thou on my side and entreat for me- + As you would beg were you in my distress. + A begging prince what beggar pities not? + SECOND MURDERER. Look behind you, my lord. + FIRST MURDERER. [Stabbing him] Take that, and that. If all + this will not do, + I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within. + Exit with the body + SECOND MURDERER. A bloody deed, and desperately + dispatch'd! + How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands + Of this most grievous murder! + + Re-enter FIRST MURDERER + + FIRST MURDERER-How now, what mean'st thou that thou + help'st me not? + By heavens, the Duke shall know how slack you have + been! + SECOND MURDERER. I would he knew that I had sav'd his + brother! + Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say; + For I repent me that the Duke is slain. Exit + FIRST MURDERER. So do not I. Go, coward as thou art. + Well, I'll go hide the body in some hole, + Till that the Duke give order for his burial; + And when I have my meed, I will away; + For this will out, and then I must not stay. Exit + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT II. SCENE 1. + +London. The palace + +Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD sick, QUEEN ELIZABETH, DORSET, +RIVERS, +HASTINGS, BUCKINGHAM, GREY, and others + + KING EDWARD. Why, so. Now have I done a good day's + work. + You peers, continue this united league. + I every day expect an embassage + From my Redeemer to redeem me hence; + And more at peace my soul shall part to heaven, + Since I have made my friends at peace on earth. + Hastings and Rivers, take each other's hand; + Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love. + RIVERS. By heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate; + And with my hand I seal my true heart's love. + HASTINGS. So thrive I, as I truly swear the like! + KING EDWARD. Take heed you dally not before your king; + Lest He that is the supreme King of kings + Confound your hidden falsehood and award + Either of you to be the other's end. + HASTINGS. So prosper I, as I swear perfect love! + RIVERS. And I, as I love Hastings with my heart! + KING EDWARD. Madam, yourself is not exempt from this; + Nor you, son Dorset; Buckingham, nor you: + You have been factious one against the other. + Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand; + And what you do, do it unfeignedly. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. There, Hastings; I will never more + remember + Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine! + KING EDWARD. Dorset, embrace him; Hastings, love Lord + Marquis. + DORSET. This interchange of love, I here protest, + Upon my part shall be inviolable. + HASTINGS. And so swear I. [They embrace] + KING EDWARD. Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this + league + With thy embracements to my wife's allies, + And make me happy in your unity. + BUCKINGHAM. [To the QUEEN] Whenever Buckingham + doth turn his hate + Upon your Grace, but with all duteous love + Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me + With hate in those where I expect most love! + When I have most need to employ a friend + And most assured that he is a friend, + Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile, + Be he unto me! This do I beg of God + When I am cold in love to you or yours. + [They embrace] + KING EDWARD. A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham, + Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. + There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here + To make the blessed period of this peace. + BUCKINGHAM. And, in good time, + Here comes Sir Richard Ratcliff and the Duke. + + Enter GLOUCESTER, and RATCLIFF + + GLOUCESTER. Good morrow to my sovereign king and + Queen; + And, princely peers, a happy time of day! + KING EDWARD. Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day. + Gloucester, we have done deeds of charity, + Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate, + Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers. + GLOUCESTER. A blessed labour, my most sovereign lord. + Among this princely heap, if any here, + By false intelligence or wrong surmise, + Hold me a foe- + If I unwittingly, or in my rage, + Have aught committed that is hardly borne + To any in this presence, I desire + To reconcile me to his friendly peace: + 'Tis death to me to be at enmity; + I hate it, and desire all good men's love. + First, madam, I entreat true peace of you, + Which I will purchase with my duteous service; + Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, + If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us; + Of you, and you, Lord Rivers, and of Dorset, + That all without desert have frown'd on me; + Of you, Lord Woodville, and, Lord Scales, of you; + Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen-indeed, of all. + I do not know that Englishman alive + With whom my soul is any jot at odds + More than the infant that is born to-night. + I thank my God for my humility. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. A holy day shall this be kept hereafter. + I would to God all strifes were well compounded. + My sovereign lord, I do beseech your Highness + To take our brother Clarence to your grace. + GLOUCESTER. Why, madam, have I off'red love for this, + To be so flouted in this royal presence? + Who knows not that the gentle Duke is dead? + [They all start] + You do him injury to scorn his corse. + KING EDWARD. Who knows not he is dead! Who knows + he is? + QUEEN ELIZABETH. All-seeing heaven, what a world is this! + BUCKINGHAM. Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest? + DORSET. Ay, my good lord; and no man in the presence + But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. + KING EDWARD. Is Clarence dead? The order was revers'd. + GLOUCESTER. But he, poor man, by your first order died, + And that a winged Mercury did bear; + Some tardy cripple bare the countermand + That came too lag to see him buried. + God grant that some, less noble and less loyal, + Nearer in bloody thoughts, an not in blood, + Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, + And yet go current from suspicion! + + Enter DERBY + + DERBY. A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! + KING EDWARD. I prithee, peace; my soul is full of sorrow. + DERBY. I Will not rise unless your Highness hear me. + KING EDWARD. Then say at once what is it thou requests. + DERBY. The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life; + Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman + Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk. + KING EDWARD. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death, + And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave? + My brother killed no man-his fault was thought, + And yet his punishment was bitter death. + Who sued to me for him? Who, in my wrath, + Kneel'd at my feet, and bid me be advis'd? + Who spoke of brotherhood? Who spoke of love? + Who told me how the poor soul did forsake + The mighty Warwick and did fight for me? + Who told me, in the field at Tewksbury + When Oxford had me down, he rescued me + And said 'Dear Brother, live, and be a king'? + Who told me, when we both lay in the field + Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me + Even in his garments, and did give himself, + All thin and naked, to the numb cold night? + All this from my remembrance brutish wrath + Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you + Had so much grace to put it in my mind. + But when your carters or your waiting-vassals + Have done a drunken slaughter and defac'd + The precious image of our dear Redeemer, + You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; + And I, unjustly too, must grant it you. [DERBY rises] + But for my brother not a man would speak; + Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself + For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all + Have been beholding to him in his life; + Yet none of you would once beg for his life. + O God, I fear thy justice will take hold + On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this! + Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. Ah, poor Clarence! + Exeunt some with KING and QUEEN + GLOUCESTER. This is the fruits of rashness. Mark'd you not + How that the guilty kindred of the Queen + Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death? + O, they did urge it still unto the King! + God will revenge it. Come, lords, will you go + To comfort Edward with our company? + BUCKINGHAM. We wait upon your Grace. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 2. + +London. The palace + +Enter the old DUCHESS OF YORK, with the SON and DAUGHTER of +CLARENCE + + SON. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead? + DUCHESS. No, boy. + DAUGHTER. Why do you weep so oft, and beat your breast, + And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!'? + SON. Why do you look on us, and shake your head, + And call us orphans, wretches, castaways, + If that our noble father were alive? + DUCHESS. My pretty cousins, you mistake me both; + I do lament the sickness of the King, + As loath to lose him, not your father's death; + It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost. + SON. Then you conclude, my grandam, he is dead. + The King mine uncle is to blame for it. + God will revenge it; whom I will importune + With earnest prayers all to that effect. + DAUGHTER. And so will I. + DUCHESS. Peace, children, peace! The King doth love you + well. + Incapable and shallow innocents, + You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death. + SON. Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester + Told me the King, provok'd to it by the Queen, + Devis'd impeachments to imprison him. + And when my uncle told me so, he wept, + And pitied me, and kindly kiss'd my cheek; + Bade me rely on him as on my father, + And he would love me dearly as a child. + DUCHESS. Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shape, + And with a virtuous vizor hide deep vice! + He is my son; ay, and therein my shame; + Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. + SON. Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam? + DUCHESS. Ay, boy. + SON. I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this? + + Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, with her hair about her + ears; RIVERS and DORSET after her + + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, who shall hinder me to wail and + weep, + To chide my fortune, and torment myself? + I'll join with black despair against my soul + And to myself become an enemy. + DUCHESS. What means this scene of rude impatience? + QUEEN ELIZABETH. To make an act of tragic violence. + EDWARD, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead. + Why grow the branches when the root is gone? + Why wither not the leaves that want their sap? + If you will live, lament; if die, be brief, + That our swift-winged souls may catch the King's, + Or like obedient subjects follow him + To his new kingdom of ne'er-changing night. + DUCHESS. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow + As I had title in thy noble husband! + I have bewept a worthy husband's death, + And liv'd with looking on his images; + But now two mirrors of his princely semblance + Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death, + And I for comfort have but one false glass, + That grieves me when I see my shame in him. + Thou art a widow, yet thou art a mother + And hast the comfort of thy children left; + But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms + And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble hands- + Clarence and Edward. O, what cause have I- + Thine being but a moiety of my moan- + To overgo thy woes and drown thy cries? + SON. Ah, aunt, you wept not for our father's death! + How can we aid you with our kindred tears? + DAUGHTER. Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd; + Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept! + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Give me no help in lamentation; + I am not barren to bring forth complaints. + All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes + That I, being govern'd by the watery moon, + May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! + Ah for my husband, for my dear Lord Edward! + CHILDREN. Ah for our father, for our dear Lord Clarence! + DUCHESS. Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence! + QUEEN ELIZABETH. What stay had I but Edward? and he's + gone. + CHILDREN. What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone. + DUCHESS. What stays had I but they? and they are gone. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Was never widow had so dear a loss. + CHILDREN. Were never orphans had so dear a loss. + DUCHESS. Was never mother had so dear a loss. + Alas, I am the mother of these griefs! + Their woes are parcell'd, mine is general. + She for an Edward weeps, and so do I: + I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she. + These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I: + I for an Edward weep, so do not they. + Alas, you three on me, threefold distress'd, + Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, + And I will pamper it with lamentation. + DORSET. Comfort, dear mother. God is much displeas'd + That you take with unthankfulness his doing. + In common worldly things 'tis called ungrateful + With dull unwillingness to repay a debt + Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; + Much more to be thus opposite with heaven, + For it requires the royal debt it lent you. + RIVERS. Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, + Of the young prince your son. Send straight for him; + Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives. + Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, + And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. + + Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, + HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF + + GLOUCESTER. Sister, have comfort. All of us have cause + To wail the dimming of our shining star; + But none can help our harms by wailing them. + Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy; + I did not see your Grace. Humbly on my knee + I crave your blessing. + DUCHESS. God bless thee; and put meekness in thy breast, + Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! + GLOUCESTER. Amen! [Aside] And make me die a good old + man! + That is the butt end of a mother's blessing; + I marvel that her Grace did leave it out. + BUCKINGHAM. You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing + peers, + That bear this heavy mutual load of moan, + Now cheer each other in each other's love. + Though we have spent our harvest of this king, + We are to reap the harvest of his son. + The broken rancour of your high-swol'n hearts, + But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together, + Must gently be preserv'd, cherish'd, and kept. + Me seemeth good that, with some little train, + Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fet + Hither to London, to be crown'd our King. + + RIVERS. Why with some little train, my Lord of + Buckingham? + BUCKINGHAM. Marry, my lord, lest by a multitude + The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out, + Which would be so much the more dangerous + By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd; + Where every horse bears his commanding rein + And may direct his course as please himself, + As well the fear of harm as harm apparent, + In my opinion, ought to be prevented. + GLOUCESTER. I hope the King made peace with all of us; + And the compact is firm and true in me. + RIVERS. And so in me; and so, I think, in all. + Yet, since it is but green, it should be put + To no apparent likelihood of breach, + Which haply by much company might be urg'd; + Therefore I say with noble Buckingham + That it is meet so few should fetch the Prince. + HASTINGS. And so say I. + GLOUCESTER. Then be it so; and go we to determine + Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow. + Madam, and you, my sister, will you go + To give your censures in this business? + Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOUCESTER + BUCKINGHAM. My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince, + For God's sake, let not us two stay at home; + For by the way I'll sort occasion, + As index to the story we late talk'd of, + To part the Queen's proud kindred from the Prince. + GLOUCESTER. My other self, my counsel's consistory, + My oracle, my prophet, my dear cousin, + I, as a child, will go by thy direction. + Toward Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 3. + +London. A street + +Enter one CITIZEN at one door, and another at the other + + FIRST CITIZEN. Good morrow, neighbour. Whither away so + fast? + SECOND CITIZEN. I promise you, I scarcely know myself. + Hear you the news abroad? + FIRST CITIZEN. Yes, that the King is dead. + SECOND CITIZEN. Ill news, by'r lady; seldom comes the + better. + I fear, I fear 'twill prove a giddy world. + + Enter another CITIZEN + + THIRD CITIZEN. Neighbours, God speed! + FIRST CITIZEN. Give you good morrow, sir. + THIRD CITIZEN. Doth the news hold of good King Edward's + death? + SECOND CITIZEN. Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while! + THIRD CITIZEN. Then, masters, look to see a troublous + world. + FIRST CITIZEN. No, no; by God's good grace, his son shall + reign. + THIRD CITIZEN. Woe to that land that's govern'd by a child. + SECOND CITIZEN. In him there is a hope of government, + Which, in his nonage, council under him, + And, in his full and ripened years, himself, + No doubt, shall then, and till then, govern well. + FIRST CITIZEN. So stood the state when Henry the Sixth + Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. + THIRD CITIZEN. Stood the state so? No, no, good friends, + God wot; + For then this land was famously enrich'd + With politic grave counsel; then the King + Had virtuous uncles to protect his Grace. + FIRST CITIZEN. Why, so hath this, both by his father and + mother. + THIRD CITIZEN. Better it were they all came by his father, + Or by his father there were none at all; + For emulation who shall now be nearest + Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not. + O, full of danger is the Duke of Gloucester! + And the Queen's sons and brothers haught and proud; + And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule, + This sickly land might solace as before. + FIRST CITIZEN. Come, come, we fear the worst; all will be + well. + THIRD CITIZEN. When clouds are seen, wise men put on + their cloaks; + When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand; + When the sun sets, who doth not look for night? + Untimely storms make men expect a dearth. + All may be well; but, if God sort it so, + 'Tis more than we deserve or I expect. + SECOND CITIZEN. Truly, the hearts of men are fun of fear. + You cannot reason almost with a man + That looks not heavily and fun of dread. + THIRD CITIZEN. Before the days of change, still is it so; + By a divine instinct men's minds mistrust + Ensuing danger; as by proof we see + The water swell before a boist'rous storm. + But leave it all to God. Whither away? + SECOND CITIZEN. Marry, we were sent for to the justices. + THIRD CITIZEN. And so was I; I'll bear you company. + Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 4. + +London. The palace + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the young DUKE OF YORK, QUEEN +ELIZABETH, +and the DUCHESS OF YORK + + ARCHBISHOP. Last night, I hear, they lay at Stony Stratford, + And at Northampton they do rest to-night; + To-morrow or next day they will be here. + DUCHESS. I long with all my heart to see the Prince. + I hope he is much grown since last I saw him. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. But I hear no; they say my son of York + Has almost overta'en him in his growth. + YORK. Ay, mother; but I would not have it so. + DUCHESS. Why, my good cousin, it is good to grow. + YORK. Grandam, one night as we did sit at supper, + My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow + More than my brother. 'Ay,' quoth my uncle Gloucester + 'Small herbs have grace: great weeds do grow apace.' + And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast, + Because sweet flow'rs are slow and weeds make haste. + DUCHESS. Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold + In him that did object the same to thee. + He was the wretched'st thing when he was young, + So long a-growing and so leisurely + That, if his rule were true, he should be gracious. + ARCHBISHOP. And so no doubt he is, my gracious madam. + DUCHESS. I hope he is; but yet let mothers doubt. + YORK. Now, by my troth, if I had been rememb'red, + I could have given my uncle's Grace a flout + To touch his growth nearer than he touch'd mine. + DUCHESS. How, my young York? I prithee let me hear it. + YORK. Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast + That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old. + 'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth. + Grandam, this would have been a biting jest. + DUCHESS. I prithee, pretty York, who told thee this? + YORK. Grandam, his nurse. + DUCHESS. His nurse! Why she was dead ere thou wast + born. + YORK. If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. A parlous boy! Go to, you are too + shrewd. + ARCHBISHOP. Good madam, be not angry with the child. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Pitchers have ears. + + Enter a MESSENGER + + ARCHBISHOP. Here comes a messenger. What news? + MESSENGER. Such news, my lord, as grieves me to report. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. How doth the Prince? + MESSENGER. Well, madam, and in health. + DUCHESS. What is thy news? + MESSENGER. Lord Rivers and Lord Grey + Are sent to Pomfret, and with them + Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners. + DUCHESS. Who hath committed them? + MESSENGER. The mighty Dukes, Gloucester and Buckingham. + ARCHBISHOP. For what offence? + MESSENGER. The sum of all I can, I have disclos'd. + Why or for what the nobles were committed + Is all unknown to me, my gracious lord. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ay me, I see the ruin of my house! + The tiger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind; + Insulting tyranny begins to jet + Upon the innocent and aweless throne. + Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre! + I see, as in a map, the end of all. + DUCHESS. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days, + How many of you have mine eyes beheld! + My husband lost his life to get the crown; + And often up and down my sons were toss'd + For me to joy and weep their gain and loss; + And being seated, and domestic broils + Clean over-blown, themselves the conquerors + Make war upon themselves-brother to brother, + Blood to blood, self against self. O, preposterous + And frantic outrage, end thy damned spleen, + Or let me die, to look on death no more! + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Come, come, my boy; we will to + sanctuary. + Madam, farewell. + DUCHESS. Stay, I will go with you. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. You have no cause. + ARCHBISHOP. [To the QUEEN] My gracious lady, go. + And thither bear your treasure and your goods. + For my part, I'll resign unto your Grace + The seal I keep; and so betide to me + As well I tender you and all of yours! + Go, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary. Exeunt + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT III. SCENE 1. + +London. A street + +The trumpets sound. Enter the PRINCE OF WALES, GLOUCESTER, +BUCKINGHAM, +CATESBY, CARDINAL BOURCHIER, and others + + BUCKINGHAM. Welcome, sweet Prince, to London, to your + chamber. + GLOUCESTER. Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sovereign. + The weary way hath made you melancholy. + PRINCE. No, uncle; but our crosses on the way + Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy. + I want more uncles here to welcome me. + GLOUCESTER. Sweet Prince, the untainted virtue of your + years + Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit; + Nor more can you distinguish of a man + Than of his outward show; which, God He knows, + Seldom or never jumpeth with the heart. + Those uncles which you want were dangerous; + Your Grace attended to their sug'red words + But look'd not on the poison of their hearts. + God keep you from them and from such false friends! + PRINCE. God keep me from false friends! but they were + none. + GLOUCESTER. My lord, the Mayor of London comes to greet + you. + + Enter the LORD MAYOR and his train + + MAYOR. God bless your Grace with health and happy days! + PRINCE. I thank you, good my lord, and thank you all. + I thought my mother and my brother York + Would long ere this have met us on the way. + Fie, what a slug is Hastings, that he comes not + To tell us whether they will come or no! + + Enter LORD HASTINGS + + BUCKINGHAM. And, in good time, here comes the sweating + Lord. + PRINCE. Welcome, my lord. What, will our mother come? + HASTINGS. On what occasion, God He knows, not I, + The Queen your mother and your brother York + Have taken sanctuary. The tender Prince + Would fain have come with me to meet your Grace, + But by his mother was perforce withheld. + BUCKINGHAM. Fie, what an indirect and peevish course + Is this of hers? Lord Cardinal, will your Grace + Persuade the Queen to send the Duke of York + Unto his princely brother presently? + If she deny, Lord Hastings, go with him + And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce. + CARDINAL. My Lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory + Can from his mother win the Duke of York, + Anon expect him here; but if she be obdurate + To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid + We should infringe the holy privilege + Of blessed sanctuary! Not for all this land + Would I be guilty of so deep a sin. + BUCKINGHAM. You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord, + Too ceremonious and traditional. + Weigh it but with the grossness of this age, + You break not sanctuary in seizing him. + The benefit thereof is always granted + To those whose dealings have deserv'd the place + And those who have the wit to claim the place. + This Prince hath neither claim'd it nor deserv'd it, + And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it. + Then, taking him from thence that is not there, + You break no privilege nor charter there. + Oft have I heard of sanctuary men; + But sanctuary children never till now. + CARDINAL. My lord, you shall o'errule my mind for once. + Come on, Lord Hastings, will you go with me? + HASTINGS. I go, my lord. + PRINCE. Good lords, make all the speedy haste you may. + Exeunt CARDINAL and HASTINGS + Say, uncle Gloucester, if our brother come, + Where shall we sojourn till our coronation? + GLOUCESTER. Where it seems best unto your royal self. + If I may counsel you, some day or two + Your Highness shall repose you at the Tower, + Then where you please and shall be thought most fit + For your best health and recreation. + PRINCE. I do not like the Tower, of any place. + Did Julius Caesar build that place, my lord? + BUCKINGHAM. He did, my gracious lord, begin that place, + Which, since, succeeding ages have re-edified. + PRINCE. Is it upon record, or else reported + Successively from age to age, he built it? + BUCKINGHAM. Upon record, my gracious lord. + PRINCE. But say, my lord, it were not regist'red, + Methinks the truth should live from age to age, + As 'twere retail'd to all posterity, + Even to the general all-ending day. + GLOUCESTER. [Aside] So wise so young, they say, do never + live long. + PRINCE. What say you, uncle? + GLOUCESTER. I say, without characters, fame lives long. + [Aside] Thus, like the formal vice, Iniquity, + I moralize two meanings in one word. + PRINCE. That Julius Caesar was a famous man; + With what his valour did enrich his wit, + His wit set down to make his valour live. + Death makes no conquest of this conqueror; + For now he lives in fame, though not in life. + I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham- + BUCKINGHAM. What, my gracious lord? + PRINCE. An if I live until I be a man, + I'll win our ancient right in France again, + Or die a soldier as I liv'd a king. + GLOUCESTER. [Aside] Short summers lightly have a forward + spring. + + Enter HASTINGS, young YORK, and the CARDINAL + + BUCKINGHAM. Now, in good time, here comes the Duke of + York. + PRINCE. Richard of York, how fares our loving brother? + YORK. Well, my dread lord; so must I can you now. + PRINCE. Ay brother, to our grief, as it is yours. + Too late he died that might have kept that title, + Which by his death hath lost much majesty. + GLOUCESTER. How fares our cousin, noble Lord of York? + YORK. I thank you, gentle uncle. O, my lord, + You said that idle weeds are fast in growth. + The Prince my brother hath outgrown me far. + GLOUCESTER. He hath, my lord. + YORK. And therefore is he idle? + GLOUCESTER. O, my fair cousin, I must not say so. + YORK. Then he is more beholding to you than I. + GLOUCESTER. He may command me as my sovereign; + But you have power in me as in a kinsman. + YORK. I pray you, uncle, give me this dagger. + GLOUCESTER. My dagger, little cousin? With all my heart! + PRINCE. A beggar, brother? + YORK. Of my kind uncle, that I know will give, + And being but a toy, which is no grief to give. + GLOUCESTER. A greater gift than that I'll give my cousin. + YORK. A greater gift! O, that's the sword to it! + GLOUCESTER. Ay, gentle cousin, were it light enough. + YORK. O, then, I see you will part but with light gifts: + In weightier things you'll say a beggar nay. + GLOUCESTER. It is too heavy for your Grace to wear. + YORK. I weigh it lightly, were it heavier. + GLOUCESTER. What, would you have my weapon, little + Lord? + YORK. I would, that I might thank you as you call me. + GLOUCESTER. How? + YORK. Little. + PRINCE. My Lord of York will still be cross in talk. + Uncle, your Grace knows how to bear with him. + YORK. You mean, to bear me, not to bear with me. + Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me; + Because that I am little, like an ape, + He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders. + BUCKINGHAM. With what a sharp-provided wit he reasons! + To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle + He prettily and aptly taunts himself. + So cunning and so young is wonderful. + GLOUCESTER. My lord, will't please you pass along? + Myself and my good cousin Buckingham + Will to your mother, to entreat of her + To meet you at the Tower and welcome you. + YORK. What, will you go unto the Tower, my lord? + PRINCE. My Lord Protector needs will have it so. + YORK. I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower. + GLOUCESTER. Why, what should you fear? + YORK. Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost. + My grandam told me he was murder'd there. + PRINCE. I fear no uncles dead. + GLOUCESTER. Nor none that live, I hope. + PRINCE. An if they live, I hope I need not fear. + But come, my lord; and with a heavy heart, + Thinking on them, go I unto the Tower. + A sennet. + Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, and CATESBY + BUCKINGHAM. Think you, my lord, this little prating York + Was not incensed by his subtle mother + To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously? + GLOUCESTER. No doubt, no doubt. O, 'tis a perilous boy; + Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable. + He is all the mother's, from the top to toe. + BUCKINGHAM. Well, let them rest. Come hither, Catesby. + Thou art sworn as deeply to effect what we intend + As closely to conceal what we impart. + Thou know'st our reasons urg'd upon the way. + What think'st thou? Is it not an easy matter + To make William Lord Hastings of our mind, + For the instalment of this noble Duke + In the seat royal of this famous isle? + CATESBY. He for his father's sake so loves the Prince + That he will not be won to aught against him. + BUCKINGHAM. What think'st thou then of Stanley? Will + not he? + CATESBY. He will do all in all as Hastings doth. + BUCKINGHAM. Well then, no more but this: go, gentle + Catesby, + And, as it were far off, sound thou Lord Hastings + How he doth stand affected to our purpose; + And summon him to-morrow to the Tower, + To sit about the coronation. + If thou dost find him tractable to us, + Encourage him, and tell him all our reasons; + If he be leaden, icy, cold, unwilling, + Be thou so too, and so break off the talk, + And give us notice of his inclination; + For we to-morrow hold divided councils, + Wherein thyself shalt highly be employ'd. + GLOUCESTER. Commend me to Lord William. Tell him, + Catesby, + His ancient knot of dangerous adversaries + To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret Castle; + And bid my lord, for joy of this good news, + Give Mistress Shore one gentle kiss the more. + BUCKINGHAM. Good Catesby, go effect this business soundly. + CATESBY. My good lords both, with all the heed I can. + GLOUCESTER. Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we sleep? + CATESBY. You shall, my lord. + GLOUCESTER. At Crosby House, there shall you find us both. + Exit CATESBY + BUCKINGHAM. Now, my lord, what shall we do if we + perceive + Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots? + GLOUCESTER. Chop off his head-something we will + determine. + And, look when I am King, claim thou of me + The earldom of Hereford and all the movables + Whereof the King my brother was possess'd. + BUCKINGHAM. I'll claim that promise at your Grace's hand. + GLOUCESTER. And look to have it yielded with all kindness. + Come, let us sup betimes, that afterwards + We may digest our complots in some form. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 2. + +Before LORD HASTING'S house + +Enter a MESSENGER to the door of HASTINGS + + MESSENGER. My lord, my lord! [Knocking] + HASTINGS. [Within] Who knocks? + MESSENGER. One from the Lord Stanley. + HASTINGS. [Within] What is't o'clock? + MESSENGER. Upon the stroke of four. + + Enter LORD HASTINGS + + HASTINGS. Cannot my Lord Stanley sleep these tedious + nights? + MESSENGER. So it appears by that I have to say. + First, he commends him to your noble self. + HASTINGS. What then? + MESSENGER. Then certifies your lordship that this night + He dreamt the boar had razed off his helm. + Besides, he says there are two councils kept, + And that may be determin'd at the one + Which may make you and him to rue at th' other. + Therefore he sends to know your lordship's pleasure- + If you will presently take horse with him + And with all speed post with him toward the north + To shun the danger that his soul divines. + HASTINGS. Go, fellow, go, return unto thy lord; + Bid him not fear the separated council: + His honour and myself are at the one, + And at the other is my good friend Catesby; + Where nothing can proceed that toucheth us + Whereof I shall not have intelligence. + Tell him his fears are shallow, without instance; + And for his dreams, I wonder he's so simple + To trust the mock'ry of unquiet slumbers. + To fly the boar before the boar pursues + Were to incense the boar to follow us + And make pursuit where he did mean no chase. + Go, bid thy master rise and come to me; + And we will both together to the Tower, + Where, he shall see, the boar will use us kindly. + MESSENGER. I'll go, my lord, and tell him what you say. + Exit + + Enter CATESBY + + CATESBY. Many good morrows to my noble lord! + HASTINGS. Good morrow, Catesby; you are early stirring. + What news, what news, in this our tott'ring state? + CATESBY. It is a reeling world indeed, my lord; + And I believe will never stand upright + Till Richard wear the garland of the realm. + HASTINGS. How, wear the garland! Dost thou mean the + crown? + CATESBY. Ay, my good lord. + HASTINGS. I'll have this crown of mine cut from my + shoulders + Before I'll see the crown so foul misplac'd. + But canst thou guess that he doth aim at it? + CATESBY. Ay, on my life; and hopes to find you forward + Upon his party for the gain thereof; + And thereupon he sends you this good news, + That this same very day your enemies, + The kindred of the Queen, must die at Pomfret. + HASTINGS. Indeed, I am no mourner for that news, + Because they have been still my adversaries; + But that I'll give my voice on Richard's side + To bar my master's heirs in true descent, + God knows I will not do it to the death. + CATESBY. God keep your lordship in that gracious mind! + HASTINGS. But I shall laugh at this a twelve month hence, + That they which brought me in my master's hate, + I live to look upon their tragedy. + Well, Catesby, ere a fortnight make me older, + I'll send some packing that yet think not on't. + CATESBY. 'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord, + When men are unprepar'd and look not for it. + HASTINGS. O monstrous, monstrous! And so falls it out + With Rivers, Vaughan, Grey; and so 'twill do + With some men else that think themselves as safe + As thou and I, who, as thou knowest, are dear + To princely Richard and to Buckingham. + CATESBY. The Princes both make high account of you- + [Aside] For they account his head upon the bridge. + HASTINGS. I know they do, and I have well deserv'd it. + + Enter LORD STANLEY + + Come on, come on; where is your boar-spear, man? + Fear you the boar, and go so unprovided? + STANLEY. My lord, good morrow; good morrow, Catesby. + You may jest on, but, by the holy rood, + I do not like these several councils, I. + HASTINGS. My lord, I hold my life as dear as yours, + And never in my days, I do protest, + Was it so precious to me as 'tis now. + Think you, but that I know our state secure, + I would be so triumphant as I am? + STANLEY. The lords at Pomfret, when they rode from + London, + Were jocund and suppos'd their states were sure, + And they indeed had no cause to mistrust; + But yet you see how soon the day o'ercast. + This sudden stab of rancour I misdoubt; + Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward. + What, shall we toward the Tower? The day is spent. + HASTINGS. Come, come, have with you. Wot you what, my + Lord? + To-day the lords you talk'd of are beheaded. + STANLEY. They, for their truth, might better wear their + heads + Than some that have accus'd them wear their hats. + But come, my lord, let's away. + + Enter HASTINGS, a pursuivant + + HASTINGS. Go on before; I'll talk with this good fellow. + Exeunt STANLEY and CATESBY + How now, Hastings! How goes the world with thee? + PURSUIVANT. The better that your lordship please to ask. + HASTINGS. I tell thee, man, 'tis better with me now + Than when thou met'st me last where now we meet: + Then was I going prisoner to the Tower + By the suggestion of the Queen's allies; + But now, I tell thee-keep it to thyself- + This day those enernies are put to death, + And I in better state than e'er I was. + PURSUIVANT. God hold it, to your honour's good content! + HASTINGS. Gramercy, Hastings; there, drink that for me. + [Throws him his purse] + PURSUIVANT. I thank your honour. Exit + + Enter a PRIEST + + PRIEST. Well met, my lord; I am glad to see your honour. + HASTINGS. I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my heart. + I am in your debt for your last exercise; + Come the next Sabbath, and I will content you. + [He whispers in his ear] + PRIEST. I'll wait upon your lordship. + + Enter BUCKINGHAM + + BUCKINGHAM. What, talking with a priest, Lord + Chamberlain! + Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the priest: + Your honour hath no shriving work in hand. + HASTINGS. Good faith, and when I met this holy man, + The men you talk of came into my mind. + What, go you toward the Tower? + BUCKINGHAM. I do, my lord, but long I cannot stay there; + I shall return before your lordship thence. + HASTINGS. Nay, like enough, for I stay dinner there. + BUCKINGHAM. [Aside] And supper too, although thou + knowest it not.- + Come, will you go? + HASTINGS. I'll wait upon your lordship. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 3. + +Pomfret Castle + +Enter SIR RICHARD RATCLIFF, with halberds, carrying the Nobles, +RIVERS, GREY, and VAUGHAN, to death + + RIVERS. Sir Richard Ratcliff, let me tell thee this: + To-day shalt thou behold a subject die + For truth, for duty, and for loyalty. + GREY. God bless the Prince from all the pack of you! + A knot you are of damned blood-suckers. + VAUGHAN. You live that shall cry woe for this hereafter. + RATCLIFF. Dispatch; the limit of your lives is out. + RIVERS. O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison, + Fatal and ominous to noble peers! + Within the guilty closure of thy walls + RICHARD the Second here was hack'd to death; + And for more slander to thy dismal seat, + We give to thee our guiltless blood to drink. + GREY. Now Margaret's curse is fall'n upon our heads, + When she exclaim'd on Hastings, you, and I, + For standing by when Richard stabb'd her son. + RIVERS. Then curs'd she Richard, then curs'd she + Buckingham, + Then curs'd she Hastings. O, remember, God, + To hear her prayer for them, as now for us! + And for my sister, and her princely sons, + Be satisfied, dear God, with our true blood, + Which, as thou know'st, unjustly must be spilt. + RATCLIFF. Make haste; the hour of death is expiate. + RIVERS. Come, Grey; come, Vaughan; let us here embrace. + Farewell, until we meet again in heaven. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 4 + +London. The Tower + +Enter BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, the BISHOP of ELY, RATCLIFF, +LOVEL, +with others and seat themselves at a table + + HASTINGS. Now, noble peers, the cause why we are met + Is to determine of the coronation. + In God's name speak-when is the royal day? + BUCKINGHAM. Is all things ready for the royal time? + DERBY. It is, and wants but nomination. + BISHOP OF ELY. To-morrow then I judge a happy day. + BUCKINGHAM. Who knows the Lord Protector's mind + herein? + Who is most inward with the noble Duke? + BISHOP OF ELY. Your Grace, we think, should soonest know + his mind. + BUCKINGHAM. We know each other's faces; for our hearts, + He knows no more of mine than I of yours; + Or I of his, my lord, than you of mine. + Lord Hastings, you and he are near in love. + HASTINGS. I thank his Grace, I know he loves me well; + But for his purpose in the coronation + I have not sounded him, nor he deliver'd + His gracious pleasure any way therein. + But you, my honourable lords, may name the time; + And in the Duke's behalf I'll give my voice, + Which, I presume, he'll take in gentle part. + + Enter GLOUCESTER + + BISHOP OF ELY. In happy time, here comes the Duke himself. + GLOUCESTER. My noble lords and cousins all, good morrow. + I have been long a sleeper, but I trust + My absence doth neglect no great design + Which by my presence might have been concluded. + BUCKINGHAM. Had you not come upon your cue, my lord, + WILLIAM Lord Hastings had pronounc'd your part- + I mean, your voice for crowning of the King. + GLOUCESTER. Than my Lord Hastings no man might be + bolder; + His lordship knows me well and loves me well. + My lord of Ely, when I was last in Holborn + I saw good strawberries in your garden there. + I do beseech you send for some of them. + BISHOP of ELY. Marry and will, my lord, with all my heart. + Exit + GLOUCESTER. Cousin of Buckingham, a word with you. + [Takes him aside] + Catesby hath sounded Hastings in our business, + And finds the testy gentleman so hot + That he will lose his head ere give consent + His master's child, as worshipfully he terms it, + Shall lose the royalty of England's throne. + BUCKINGHAM. Withdraw yourself awhile; I'll go with you. + Exeunt GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM + DERBY. We have not yet set down this day of triumph. + To-morrow, in my judgment, is too sudden; + For I myself am not so well provided + As else I would be, were the day prolong'd. + + Re-enter the BISHOP OF ELY + + BISHOP OF ELY. Where is my lord the Duke of Gloucester? + I have sent for these strawberries. + HASTINGS. His Grace looks cheerfully and smooth this + morning; + There's some conceit or other likes him well + When that he bids good morrow with such spirit. + I think there's never a man in Christendom + Can lesser hide his love or hate than he; + For by his face straight shall you know his heart. + DERBY. What of his heart perceive you in his face + By any livelihood he show'd to-day? + HASTINGS. Marry, that with no man here he is offended; + For, were he, he had shown it in his looks. + + Re-enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM + + GLOUCESTER. I pray you all, tell me what they deserve + That do conspire my death with devilish plots + Of damned witchcraft, and that have prevail'd + Upon my body with their hellish charms? + HASTINGS. The tender love I bear your Grace, my lord, + Makes me most forward in this princely presence + To doom th' offenders, whosoe'er they be. + I say, my lord, they have deserved death. + GLOUCESTER. Then be your eyes the witness of their evil. + Look how I am bewitch'd; behold, mine arm + Is like a blasted sapling wither'd up. + And this is Edward's wife, that monstrous witch, + Consorted with that harlot strumpet Shore, + That by their witchcraft thus have marked me. + HASTINGS. If they have done this deed, my noble lord- + GLOUCESTER. If?-thou protector of this damned strumpet, + Talk'st thou to me of ifs? Thou art a traitor. + Off with his head! Now by Saint Paul I swear + I will not dine until I see the same. + Lovel and Ratcliff, look that it be done. + The rest that love me, rise and follow me. + Exeunt all but HASTINGS, LOVEL, and RATCLIFF + HASTINGS. Woe, woe, for England! not a whit for me; + For I, too fond, might have prevented this. + STANLEY did dream the boar did raze our helms, + And I did scorn it and disdain to fly. + Three times to-day my foot-cloth horse did stumble, + And started when he look'd upon the Tower, + As loath to bear me to the slaughter-house. + O, now I need the priest that spake to me! + I now repent I told the pursuivant, + As too triumphing, how mine enemies + To-day at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd, + And I myself secure in grace and favour. + O Margaret, Margaret, now thy heavy curse + Is lighted on poor Hastings' wretched head! + RATCLIFF. Come, come, dispatch; the Duke would be at + dinner. + Make a short shrift; he longs to see your head. + HASTINGS. O momentary grace of mortal men, + Which we more hunt for than the grace of God! + Who builds his hope in air of your good looks + Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, + Ready with every nod to tumble down + Into the fatal bowels of the deep. + LOVEL. Come, come, dispatch; 'tis bootless to exclaim. + HASTINGS. O bloody Richard! Miserable England! + I prophesy the fearfull'st time to thee + That ever wretched age hath look'd upon. + Come, lead me to the block; bear him my head. + They smile at me who shortly shall be dead. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 5. + +London. The Tower-walls + +Enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM in rotten armour, marvellous +ill-favoured + + GLOUCESTER. Come, cousin, canst thou quake and change + thy colour, + Murder thy breath in middle of a word, + And then again begin, and stop again, + As if thou were distraught and mad with terror? + BUCKINGHAM. Tut, I can counterfeit the deep tragedian; + Speak and look back, and pry on every side, + Tremble and start at wagging of a straw, + Intending deep suspicion. Ghastly looks + Are at my service, like enforced smiles; + And both are ready in their offices + At any time to grace my stratagems. + But what, is Catesby gone? + GLOUCESTER. He is; and, see, he brings the mayor along. + + Enter the LORD MAYOR and CATESBY + + BUCKINGHAM. Lord Mayor- + GLOUCESTER. Look to the drawbridge there! + BUCKINGHAM. Hark! a drum. + GLOUCESTER. Catesby, o'erlook the walls. + BUCKINGHAM. Lord Mayor, the reason we have sent- + GLOUCESTER. Look back, defend thee; here are enemies. + BUCKINGHAM. God and our innocence defend and guard us! + + Enter LOVEL and RATCLIFF, with HASTINGS' head + + GLOUCESTER. Be patient; they are friends-Ratcliff and Lovel. + LOVEL. Here is the head of that ignoble traitor, + The dangerous and unsuspected Hastings. + GLOUCESTER. So dear I lov'd the man that I must weep. + I took him for the plainest harmless creature + That breath'd upon the earth a Christian; + Made him my book, wherein my soul recorded + The history of all her secret thoughts. + So smooth he daub'd his vice with show of virtue + That, his apparent open guilt omitted, + I mean his conversation with Shore's wife- + He liv'd from all attainder of suspects. + BUCKINGHAM. Well, well, he was the covert'st shelt'red + traitor + That ever liv'd. + Would you imagine, or almost believe- + Were't not that by great preservation + We live to tell it-that the subtle traitor + This day had plotted, in the council-house, + To murder me and my good Lord of Gloucester. + MAYOR. Had he done so? + GLOUCESTER. What! think you we are Turks or Infidels? + Or that we would, against the form of law, + Proceed thus rashly in the villain's death + But that the extreme peril of the case, + The peace of England and our persons' safety, + Enforc'd us to this execution? + MAYOR. Now, fair befall you! He deserv'd his death; + And your good Graces both have well proceeded + To warn false traitors from the like attempts. + I never look'd for better at his hands + After he once fell in with Mistress Shore. + BUCKINGHAM. Yet had we not determin'd he should die + Until your lordship came to see his end- + Which now the loving haste of these our friends, + Something against our meanings, have prevented- + Because, my lord, I would have had you heard + The traitor speak, and timorously confess + The manner and the purpose of his treasons: + That you might well have signified the same + Unto the citizens, who haply may + Misconster us in him and wail his death. + MAYOR. But, my good lord, your Grace's words shall serve + As well as I had seen and heard him speak; + And do not doubt, right noble Princes both, + But I'll acquaint our duteous citizens + With all your just proceedings in this cause. + GLOUCESTER. And to that end we wish'd your lordship here, + T' avoid the the the censures of the carping world. + BUCKINGHAM. Which since you come too late of our intent, + Yet witness what you hear we did intend. + And so, my good Lord Mayor, we bid farewell. + Exit LORD MAYOR + GLOUCESTER. Go, after, after, cousin Buckingham. + The Mayor towards Guildhall hies him in all post. + There, at your meet'st advantage of the time, + Infer the bastardy of Edward's children. + Tell them how Edward put to death a citizen + Only for saying he would make his son + Heir to the crown-meaning indeed his house, + Which by the sign thereof was termed so. + Moreover, urge his hateful luxury + And bestial appetite in change of lust, + Which stretch'd unto their servants, daughters, wives, + Even where his raging eye or savage heart + Without control lusted to make a prey. + Nay, for a need, thus far come near my person: + Tell them, when that my mother went with child + Of that insatiate Edward, noble York + My princely father then had wars in France + And, by true computation of the time, + Found that the issue was not his begot; + Which well appeared in his lineaments, + Being nothing like the noble Duke my father. + Yet touch this sparingly, as 'twere far off; + Because, my lord, you know my mother lives. + BUCKINGHAM. Doubt not, my lord, I'll play the orator + As if the golden fee for which I plead + Were for myself; and so, my lord, adieu. + GLOUCESTER. If you thrive well, bring them to Baynard's + Castle; + Where you shall find me well accompanied + With reverend fathers and well learned bishops. + BUCKINGHAM. I go; and towards three or four o'clock + Look for the news that the Guildhall affords. Exit + GLOUCESTER. Go, Lovel, with all speed to Doctor Shaw. + [To CATESBY] Go thou to Friar Penker. Bid them both + Meet me within this hour at Baynard's Castle. + Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + Now will I go to take some privy order + To draw the brats of Clarence out of sight, + And to give order that no manner person + Have any time recourse unto the Princes. Exit + + + + +SCENE 6. + +London. A street + +Enter a SCRIVENER + + SCRIVENER. Here is the indictment of the good Lord Hastings; + Which in a set hand fairly is engross'd + That it may be to-day read o'er in Paul's. + And mark how well the sequel hangs together: + Eleven hours I have spent to write it over, + For yesternight by Catesby was it sent me; + The precedent was full as long a-doing; + And yet within these five hours Hastings liv'd, + Untainted, unexamin'd, free, at liberty. + Here's a good world the while! Who is so gross + That cannot see this palpable device? + Yet who's so bold but says he sees it not? + Bad is the world; and all will come to nought, + When such ill dealing must be seen in thought. Exit + + + + +SCENE 7. + +London. Baynard's Castle + +Enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM, at several doors + + GLOUCESTER. How now, how now! What say the citizens? + BUCKINGHAM. Now, by the holy Mother of our Lord, + The citizens are mum, say not a word. + GLOUCESTER. Touch'd you the bastardy of Edward's + children? + BUCKINGHAM. I did; with his contract with Lady Lucy, + And his contract by deputy in France; + Th' insatiate greediness of his desire, + And his enforcement of the city wives; + His tyranny for trifles; his own bastardy, + As being got, your father then in France, + And his resemblance, being not like the Duke. + Withal I did infer your lineaments, + Being the right idea of your father, + Both in your form and nobleness of mind; + Laid open all your victories in Scotland, + Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace, + Your bounty, virtue, fair humility; + Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose + Untouch'd or slightly handled in discourse. + And when mine oratory drew toward end + I bid them that did love their country's good + Cry 'God save Richard, England's royal King!' + GLOUCESTER. And did they so? + BUCKINGHAM. No, so God help me, they spake not a word; + But, like dumb statues or breathing stones, + Star'd each on other, and look'd deadly pale. + Which when I saw, I reprehended them, + And ask'd the Mayor what meant this wilfull silence. + His answer was, the people were not used + To be spoke to but by the Recorder. + Then he was urg'd to tell my tale again. + 'Thus saith the Duke, thus hath the Duke inferr'd'- + But nothing spoke in warrant from himself. + When he had done, some followers of mine own + At lower end of the hall hurl'd up their caps, + And some ten voices cried 'God save King Richard!' + And thus I took the vantage of those few- + 'Thanks, gentle citizens and friends,' quoth I + 'This general applause and cheerful shout + Argues your wisdoms and your love to Richard.' + And even here brake off and came away. + GLOUCESTER. What, tongueless blocks were they? Would + they not speak? + Will not the Mayor then and his brethren come? + BUCKINGHAM. The Mayor is here at hand. Intend some fear; + Be not you spoke with but by mighty suit; + And look you get a prayer-book in your hand, + And stand between two churchmen, good my lord; + For on that ground I'll make a holy descant; + And be not easily won to our requests. + Play the maid's part: still answer nay, and take it. + GLOUCESTER. I go; and if you plead as well for them + As I can say nay to thee for myself, + No doubt we bring it to a happy issue. + BUCKINGHAM. Go, go, up to the leads; the Lord Mayor + knocks. Exit GLOUCESTER + + Enter the LORD MAYOR, ALDERMEN, and citizens + + Welcome, my lord. I dance attendance here; + I think the Duke will not be spoke withal. + + Enter CATESBY + + Now, Catesby, what says your lord to my request? + CATESBY. He doth entreat your Grace, my noble lord, + To visit him to-morrow or next day. + He is within, with two right reverend fathers, + Divinely bent to meditation; + And in no worldly suits would he be mov'd, + To draw him from his holy exercise. + BUCKINGHAM. Return, good Catesby, to the gracious Duke; + Tell him, myself, the Mayor and Aldermen, + In deep designs, in matter of great moment, + No less importing than our general good, + Are come to have some conference with his Grace. + CATESBY. I'll signify so much unto him straight. Exit + BUCKINGHAM. Ah ha, my lord, this prince is not an Edward! + He is not lolling on a lewd love-bed, + But on his knees at meditation; + Not dallying with a brace of courtezans, + But meditating with two deep divines; + Not sleeping, to engross his idle body, + But praying, to enrich his watchful soul. + Happy were England would this virtuous prince + Take on his Grace the sovereignty thereof; + But, sure, I fear we shall not win him to it. + MAYOR. Marry, God defend his Grace should say us nay! + BUCKINGHAM. I fear he will. Here Catesby comes again. + + Re-enter CATESBY + + Now, Catesby, what says his Grace? + CATESBY. My lord, + He wonders to what end you have assembled + Such troops of citizens to come to him. + His Grace not being warn'd thereof before, + He fears, my lord, you mean no good to him. + BUCKINGHAM. Sorry I am my noble cousin should + Suspect me that I mean no good to him. + By heaven, we come to him in perfect love; + And so once more return and tell his Grace. + Exit CATESBY + When holy and devout religious men + Are at their beads, 'tis much to draw them thence, + So sweet is zealous contemplation. + + Enter GLOUCESTER aloft, between two BISHOPS. + CATESBY returns + + MAYOR. See where his Grace stands 'tween two clergymen! + BUCKINGHAM. Two props of virtue for a Christian prince, + To stay him from the fall of vanity; + And, see, a book of prayer in his hand, + True ornaments to know a holy man. + Famous Plantagenet, most gracious Prince, + Lend favourable ear to our requests, + And pardon us the interruption + Of thy devotion and right Christian zeal. + GLOUCESTER. My lord, there needs no such apology: + I do beseech your Grace to pardon me, + Who, earnest in the service of my God, + Deferr'd the visitation of my friends. + But, leaving this, what is your Grace's pleasure? + BUCKINGHAM. Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above, + And all good men of this ungovern'd isle. + GLOUCESTER. I do suspect I have done some offence + That seems disgracious in the city's eye, + And that you come to reprehend my ignorance. + BUCKINGHAM. You have, my lord. Would it might please + your Grace, + On our entreaties, to amend your fault! + GLOUCESTER. Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land? + BUCKINGHAM. Know then, it is your fault that you resign + The supreme seat, the throne majestical, + The scept'red office of your ancestors, + Your state of fortune and your due of birth, + The lineal glory of your royal house, + To the corruption of a blemish'd stock; + Whiles in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts, + Which here we waken to our country's good, + The noble isle doth want her proper limbs; + Her face defac'd with scars of infamy, + Her royal stock graft with ignoble plants, + And almost should'red in the swallowing gulf + Of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion. + Which to recure, we heartily solicit + Your gracious self to take on you the charge + And kingly government of this your land- + Not as protector, steward, substitute, + Or lowly factor for another's gain; + But as successively, from blood to blood, + Your right of birth, your empery, your own. + For this, consorted with the citizens, + Your very worshipful and loving friends, + And by their vehement instigation, + In this just cause come I to move your Grace. + GLOUCESTER. I cannot tell if to depart in silence + Or bitterly to speak in your reproof + Best fitteth my degree or your condition. + If not to answer, you might haply think + Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded + To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty, + Which fondly you would here impose on me; + If to reprove you for this suit of yours, + So season'd with your faithful love to me, + Then, on the other side, I check'd my friends. + Therefore-to speak, and to avoid the first, + And then, in speaking, not to incur the last- + Definitively thus I answer you: + Your love deserves my thanks, but my desert + Unmeritable shuns your high request. + First, if all obstacles were cut away, + And that my path were even to the crown, + As the ripe revenue and due of birth, + Yet so much is my poverty of spirit, + So mighty and so many my defects, + That I would rather hide me from my greatness- + Being a bark to brook no mighty sea- + Than in my greatness covet to be hid, + And in the vapour of my glory smother'd. + But, God be thank'd, there is no need of me- + And much I need to help you, were there need. + The royal tree hath left us royal fruit + Which, mellow'd by the stealing hours of time, + Will well become the seat of majesty + And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign. + On him I lay that you would lay on me- + The right and fortune of his happy stars, + Which God defend that I should wring from him. + BUCKINGHAM. My lord, this argues conscience in your + Grace; + But the respects thereof are nice and trivial, + All circumstances well considered. + You say that Edward is your brother's son. + So say we too, but not by Edward's wife; + For first was he contract to Lady Lucy- + Your mother lives a witness to his vow- + And afterward by substitute betroth'd + To Bona, sister to the King of France. + These both put off, a poor petitioner, + A care-craz'd mother to a many sons, + A beauty-waning and distressed widow, + Even in the afternoon of her best days, + Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye, + Seduc'd the pitch and height of his degree + To base declension and loath'd bigamy. + By her, in his unlawful bed, he got + This Edward, whom our manners call the Prince. + More bitterly could I expostulate, + Save that, for reverence to some alive, + I give a sparing limit to my tongue. + Then, good my lord, take to your royal self + This proffer'd benefit of dignity; + If not to bless us and the land withal, + Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry + From the corruption of abusing times + Unto a lineal true-derived course. + MAYOR. Do, good my lord; your citizens entreat you. + BUCKINGHAM. Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer'd love. + CATESBY. O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit! + GLOUCESTER. Alas, why would you heap this care on me? + I am unfit for state and majesty. + I do beseech you, take it not amiss: + I cannot nor I will not yield to you. + BUCKINGHAM. If you refuse it-as, in love and zeal, + Loath to depose the child, your brother's son; + As well we know your tenderness of heart + And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse, + Which we have noted in you to your kindred + And egally indeed to all estates- + Yet know, whe'er you accept our suit or no, + Your brother's son shall never reign our king; + But we will plant some other in the throne + To the disgrace and downfall of your house; + And in this resolution here we leave you. + Come, citizens. Zounds, I'll entreat no more. + GLOUCESTER. O, do not swear, my lord of Buckingham. + Exeunt BUCKINGHAM, MAYOR, and citizens + CATESBY. Call him again, sweet Prince, accept their suit. + If you deny them, all the land will rue it. + GLOUCESTER. Will you enforce me to a world of cares? + Call them again. I am not made of stones, + But penetrable to your kind entreaties, + Albeit against my conscience and my soul. + + Re-enter BUCKINGHAM and the rest + + Cousin of Buckingham, and sage grave men, + Since you will buckle fortune on my back, + To bear her burden, whe'er I will or no, + I must have patience to endure the load; + But if black scandal or foul-fac'd reproach + Attend the sequel of your imposition, + Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me + From all the impure blots and stains thereof; + For God doth know, and you may partly see, + How far I am from the desire of this. + MAYOR. God bless your Grace! We see it, and will say it. + GLOUCESTER. In saying so, you shall but say the truth. + BUCKINGHAM. Then I salute you with this royal title- + Long live King Richard, England's worthy King! + ALL. Amen. + BUCKINGHAM. To-morrow may it please you to be crown'd? + GLOUCESTER. Even when you please, for you will have it so. + BUCKINGHAM. To-morrow, then, we will attend your Grace; + And so, most joyfully, we take our leave. + GLOUCESTER. [To the BISHOPS] Come, let us to our holy + work again. + Farewell, my cousin; farewell, gentle friends. Exeunt + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT IV. SCENE 1. + +London. Before the Tower + +Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, DUCHESS of YORK, and MARQUIS of DORSET, at +one door; +ANNE, DUCHESS of GLOUCESTER, leading LADY MARGARET PLANTAGENET, +CLARENCE's young daughter, at another door + + DUCHESS. Who meets us here? My niece Plantagenet, + Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester? + Now, for my life, she's wand'ring to the Tower, + On pure heart's love, to greet the tender Princes. + Daughter, well met. + ANNE. God give your Graces both + A happy and a joyful time of day! + QUEEN ELIZABETH. As much to you, good sister! Whither + away? + ANNE. No farther than the Tower; and, as I guess, + Upon the like devotion as yourselves, + To gratulate the gentle Princes there. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Kind sister, thanks; we'll enter + all together. + + Enter BRAKENBURY + + 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? + BRAKENBURY. Right well, dear madam. By your patience, + I may not suffer you to visit them. + The King hath strictly charg'd the contrary. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. The King! Who's that? + BRAKENBURY. I mean the Lord Protector. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. The Lord protect him from that kingly + title! + Hath he set bounds between their love and me? + I am their mother; who shall bar me from them? + DUCHESS. I am their father's mother; I will see them. + ANNE. 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. + BRAKENBURY. No, madam, no. I may not leave it so; + I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me. Exit + + Enter STANLEY + + STANLEY. 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. + [To ANNE] Come, madam, you must straight to + Westminster, + There to be crowned Richard's royal queen. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, cut my lace asunder + That my pent heart may have some scope to beat, + Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news! + ANNE. Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news! + DORSET. Be of good cheer; mother, how fares your Grace? + QUEEN ELIZABETH. O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee + gone! + Death and destruction dogs thee at thy heels; + Thy mother's name is ominous to children. + If thou wilt outstrip death, go cross the seas, + And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell. + Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughter-house, + Lest thou increase the number of the dead, + And make me die the thrall of Margaret's curse, + Nor mother, wife, nor England's counted queen. + STANLEY. Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam. + Take all the swift advantage of the hours; + You shall have letters from me to my son + In your behalf, to meet you on the way. + Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay. + DUCHESS. O ill-dispersing wind of misery! + O my accursed womb, the bed of death! + A cockatrice hast thou hatch'd to the world, + Whose unavoided eye is murderous. + STANLEY. Come, madam, come; I in all haste was sent. + ANNE. And I with all unwillingness will go. + O, would to God that the inclusive verge + Of golden metal that must round my brow + Were red-hot steel, to sear me to the brains! + Anointed let me be with deadly venom, + And die ere men can say 'God save the Queen!' + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Go, go, poor soul; I envy not thy glory. + To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm. + ANNE. No, why? When he that is my husband now + Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse; + When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his hands + Which issued from my other angel husband, + And that dear saint which then I weeping follow'd- + O, when, I say, I look'd on Richard's face, + This was my wish: 'Be thou' quoth I 'accurs'd + For making me, so young, so old a widow; + And when thou wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy bed; + And be thy wife, if any be so mad, + More miserable by the life of thee + Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death.' + Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again, + Within so small a time, my woman's heart + Grossly grew captive to his honey words + And prov'd the subject of mine own soul's curse, + Which hitherto hath held my eyes from rest; + For never yet one hour in his bed + Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep, + But with his timorous dreams was still awak'd. + Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick; + And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Poor heart, adieu! I pity thy complaining. + ANNE. No more than with my soul I mourn for yours. + DORSET. Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory! + ANNE. Adieu, poor soul, that tak'st thy leave of it! + DUCHESS. [To DORSET] Go thou to Richmond, and good + fortune guide thee! + [To ANNE] Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend + thee! [To QUEEN ELIZABETH] Go thou to sanctuary, and good + thoughts possess thee! + I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me! + Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen, + And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Stay, yet look back with me unto the + Tower. + Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes + Whom envy hath immur'd within your walls, + Rough cradle for such little pretty ones. + Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow + For tender princes, use my babies well. + So foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 2. + +London. The palace + +Sound a sennet. Enter RICHARD, in pomp, as KING; BUCKINGHAM, +CATESBY, +RATCLIFF, LOVEL, a PAGE, and others + + KING RICHARD. Stand all apart. Cousin of Buckingham! + BUCKINGHAM. My gracious sovereign? + KING RICHARD. Give me thy hand. + [Here he ascendeth the throne. Sound] + Thus high, by thy advice + And thy assistance, is King Richard seated. + But shall we wear these glories for a day; + Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them? + BUCKINGHAM. Still live they, and for ever let them last! + KING RICHARD. Ah, Buckingham, now do I play the touch, + To try if thou be current gold indeed. + Young Edward lives-think now what I would speak. + BUCKINGHAM. Say on, my loving lord. + KING RICHARD. Why, Buckingham, I say I would be King. + BUCKINGHAM. Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned lord. + KING RICHARD. Ha! am I King? 'Tis so; but Edward lives. + BUCKINGHAM. True, noble Prince. + KING RICHARD. O bitter consequence: + That Edward still should live-true noble Prince! + Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull. + Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead. + And I would have it suddenly perform'd. + What say'st thou now? Speak suddenly, be brief. + BUCKINGHAM. Your Grace may do your pleasure. + KING RICHARD. Tut, tut, thou art all ice; thy kindness freezes. + Say, have I thy consent that they shall die? + BUCKINGHAM. Give me some little breath, some pause, + dear Lord, + Before I positively speak in this. + I will resolve you herein presently. Exit + CATESBY. [Aside to another] The King is angry; see, he + gnaws his lip. + KING RICHARD. I will converse with iron-witted fools + [Descends from the throne] + And unrespective boys; none are for me + That look into me with considerate eyes. + High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect. + Boy! + PAGE. My lord? + KING RICHARD. Know'st thou not any whom corrupting + gold + Will tempt unto a close exploit of death? + PAGE. I know a discontented gentleman + Whose humble means match not his haughty spirit. + Gold were as good as twenty orators, + And will, no doubt, tempt him to anything. + KING RICHARD. What is his name? + PAGE. His name, my lord, is Tyrrel. + KING RICHARD. I partly know the man. Go, call him hither, + boy. Exit PAGE + The deep-revolving witty Buckingham + No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels. + Hath he so long held out with me, untir'd, + And stops he now for breath? Well, be it so. + + Enter STANLEY + + How now, Lord Stanley! What's the news? + STANLEY. Know, my loving lord, + The Marquis Dorset, as I hear, is fled + To Richmond, in the parts where he abides. [Stands apart] + KING RICHARD. Come hither, Catesby. Rumour it abroad + That Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick; + I will take order for her keeping close. + Inquire me out some mean poor gentleman, + Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' daughter- + The boy is foolish, and I fear not him. + Look how thou dream'st! I say again, give out + That Anne, my queen, is sick and like to die. + About it; for it stands me much upon + To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me. + Exit CATESBY + I must be married to my brother's daughter, + Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass. + Murder her brothers, and then marry her! + Uncertain way of gain! But I am in + So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin. + Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye. + + Re-enter PAGE, with TYRREL + + Is thy name Tyrrel? + TYRREL. James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject. + KING RICHARD. Art thou, indeed? + TYRREL. Prove me, my gracious lord. + KING RICHARD. Dar'st thou resolve to kill a friend of mine? + TYRREL. Please you; + But I had rather kill two enemies. + KING RICHARD. Why, then thou hast it. Two deep enemies, + Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleep's disturbers, + Are they that I would have thee deal upon. + TYRREL, I mean those bastards in the Tower. + TYRREL. Let me have open means to come to them, + And soon I'll rid you from the fear of them. + KING RICHARD. Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come + hither, Tyrrel. + Go, by this token. Rise, and lend thine ear. [Whispers] + There is no more but so: say it is done, + And I will love thee and prefer thee for it. + TYRREL. I will dispatch it straight. Exit + + Re-enter BUCKINGHAM + + BUCKINGHAM. My lord, I have consider'd in my mind + The late request that you did sound me in. + KING RICHARD. Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to + Richmond. + BUCKINGHAM. I hear the news, my lord. + KING RICHARD. Stanley, he is your wife's son: well, look + unto it. + BUCKINGHAM. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise, + For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd: + Th' earldom of Hereford and the movables + Which you have promised I shall possess. + KING RICHARD. Stanley, look to your wife; if she convey + Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it. + BUCKINGHAM. What says your Highness to my just request? + KING RICHARD. I do remember me: Henry the Sixth + Did prophesy that Richmond should be King, + When Richmond was a little peevish boy. + A king!-perhaps- + BUCKINGHAM. My lord- + KING RICHARD. How chance the prophet could not at that + time + Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him? + BUCKINGHAM. My lord, your promise for the earldom- + KING RICHARD. Richmond! When last I was at Exeter, + The mayor in courtesy show'd me the castle + And call'd it Rugemount, at which name I started, + Because a bard of Ireland told me once + I should not live long after I saw Richmond. + BUCKINGHAM. My lord- + KING RICHARD. Ay, what's o'clock? + BUCKINGHAM. I am thus bold to put your Grace in mind + Of what you promis'd me. + KING RICHARD. Well, but o'clock? + BUCKINGHAM. Upon the stroke of ten. + KING RICHARD. Well, let it strike. + BUCKINGHAM. Why let it strike? + KING RICHARD. Because that like a Jack thou keep'st the + stroke + Betwixt thy begging and my meditation. + I am not in the giving vein to-day. + BUCKINGHAM. May it please you to resolve me in my suit. + KING RICHARD. Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. + Exeunt all but Buckingham + BUCKINGHAM. And is it thus? Repays he my deep service + With such contempt? Made I him King for this? + O, let me think on Hastings, and be gone + To Brecknock while my fearful head is on! Exit + + + + +SCENE 3. + +London. The palace + +Enter TYRREL + + TYRREL. The tyrannous and bloody act is done, + The most arch deed of piteous massacre + That ever yet this land was guilty of. + Dighton and Forrest, who I did suborn + To do this piece of ruthless butchery, + Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs, + Melted with tenderness and mild compassion, + Wept like two children in their deaths' sad story. + 'O, thus' quoth Dighton 'lay the gentle babes'- + 'Thus, thus,' quoth Forrest 'girdling one another + Within their alabaster innocent arms. + Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, + And in their summer beauty kiss'd each other. + A book of prayers on their pillow lay; + Which once,' quoth Forrest 'almost chang'd my mind; + But, O, the devil'-there the villain stopp'd; + When Dighton thus told on: 'We smothered + The most replenished sweet work of nature + That from the prime creation e'er she framed.' + Hence both are gone with conscience and remorse + They could not speak; and so I left them both, + To bear this tidings to the bloody King. + + Enter KING RICHARD + + And here he comes. All health, my sovereign lord! + KING RICHARD. Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in thy news? + TYRREL. If to have done the thing you gave in charge + Beget your happiness, be happy then, + For it is done. + KING RICHARD. But didst thou see them dead? + TYRREL. I did, my lord. + KING RICHARD. And buried, gentle Tyrrel? + TYRREL. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them; + But where, to say the truth, I do not know. + KING RICHARD. Come to me, Tyrrel, soon at after supper, + When thou shalt tell the process of their death. + Meantime, but think how I may do thee good + And be inheritor of thy desire. + Farewell till then. + TYRREL. I humbly take my leave. Exit + KING RICHARD. The son of Clarence have I pent up close; + 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 + 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 + + RATCLIFF. My lord! + KING RICHARD. Good or bad news, that thou com'st in so + bluntly? + RATCLIFF. Bad news, my lord: Morton is fled to Richmond; + And Buckingham, back'd 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 learn'd that fearful commenting + Is leaden servitor to dull delay; + Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd 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 4. + +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 lurk'd + 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 QUEEN ELIZABETH and the DUCHESS OF YORK + + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, my poor princes! ah, my tender + babes! + My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets! + If yet your gentle souls fly in the air + And be not fix'd in doom perpetual, + Hover about me with your airy wings + And hear your mother's lamentation. + QUEEN MARGARET. Hover about her; say that right for right + Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night. + DUCHESS. So many miseries have craz'd my voice + That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute. + Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead? + QUEEN MARGARET. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet, + Edward for Edward pays a dying debt. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle + lambs + And throw them in the entrails of the wolf? + When didst thou sleep when such a deed was done? + QUEEN MARGARET. When holy Harry died, and my sweet + son. + DUCHESS. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal living ghost, + Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life usurp'd, + Brief abstract and record of tedious days, + Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth, [Sitting down] + Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, that thou wouldst as soon afford a + grave + As thou canst yield a melancholy seat! + Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here. + Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but we? + [Sitting down by her] + QUEEN MARGARET. [Coming forward] If ancient sorrow be + most reverend, + Give mine the benefit of seniory, + And let my griefs frown on the upper hand. + If sorrow can admit society, [Sitting down with them] + Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine. + I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him; + I had a husband, till a Richard kill'd him: + Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him; + Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard kill'd him. + DUCHESS. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him; + I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him. + QUEEN MARGARET. Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard + kill'd him. + From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept + A hell-hound that doth hunt us all to death. + That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes + To worry lambs and lap their gentle blood, + That foul defacer of God's handiwork, + That excellent grand tyrant of the earth + That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls, + Thy womb let loose to chase us to our graves. + O upright, just, and true-disposing God, + How do I thank thee that this carnal cur + Preys on the issue of his mother's body + And makes her pew-fellow with others' moan! + DUCHESS. O Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes! + God witness with me, I have wept for thine. + QUEEN MARGARET. Bear with me; I am hungry for revenge, + And now I cloy me with beholding it. + Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward; + The other Edward dead, to quit my Edward; + Young York he is but boot, because both they + Match'd not the high perfection of my loss. + Thy Clarence he is dead that stabb'd my Edward; + And the beholders of this frantic play, + Th' adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, + Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves. + Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer; + Only reserv'd their factor to buy souls + And send them thither. But at hand, at hand, + Ensues his piteous and unpitied end. + Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray, + To have him suddenly convey'd from hence. + Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, + That I may live and say 'The dog is dead.' + QUEEN ELIZABETH. O, thou didst prophesy the time would + come + That I should wish for thee to help me curse + That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad! + QUEEN MARGARET. I Call'd thee then vain flourish of my + fortune; + I call'd thee then poor shadow, painted queen, + The presentation of but what I was, + The flattering index of a direful pageant, + One heav'd a-high to be hurl'd down below, + A mother only mock'd with two fair babes, + A dream of what thou wast, a garish flag + To be the aim of every dangerous shot, + A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble, + A queen in jest, only to fill the scene. + Where is thy husband now? Where be thy brothers? + Where be thy two sons? Wherein dost thou joy? + Who sues, and kneels, and says 'God save the Queen'? + Where be the bending peers that flattered thee? + Where be the thronging troops that followed thee? + Decline all this, and see what now thou art: + For happy wife, a most distressed widow; + For joyful mother, one that wails the name; + For one being su'd to, one that humbly sues; + For Queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care; + For she that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me; + For she being fear'd of all, now fearing one; + For she commanding all, obey'd of none. + Thus hath the course of justice whirl'd about + And left thee but a very prey to time, + Having no more but thought of what thou wast + To torture thee the more, being what thou art. + Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not + Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow? + Now thy proud neck bears half my burden'd yoke, + From which even here I slip my weary head + And leave the burden of it all on thee. + Farewell, York's wife, and queen of sad mischance; + These English woes shall make me smile in France. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay awhile + And teach me how to curse mine enemies! + QUEEN MARGARET. Forbear to sleep the nights, and fast the + days; + Compare dead happiness with living woe; + Think that thy babes were sweeter than they were, + And he that slew them fouler than he is. + Bett'ring thy loss makes the bad-causer worse; + Revolving this will teach thee how to curse. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. My words are dull; O, quicken them + with thine! + QUEEN MARGARET. Thy woes will make them sharp and + pierce like mine. Exit + DUCHESS. Why should calamity be full of words? + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Windy attorneys to their client woes, + Airy succeeders of intestate joys, + Poor breathing orators of miseries, + Let them have scope; though what they will impart + Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart. + DUCHESS. If so, then be not tongue-tied. Go with me, + And in the breath of bitter words let's smother + My damned son that thy two sweet sons smother'd. + The trumpet sounds; be copious in exclaims. + + Enter KING RICHARD and his train, marching with + drums and trumpets + + KING RICHARD. Who intercepts me in my expedition? + DUCHESS. O, she that might have intercepted thee, + By strangling thee in her accursed womb, + From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done! + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Hidest thou that forehead with a golden + crown + Where't should be branded, if that right were right, + The slaughter of the Prince that ow'd that crown, + And the dire death of my poor sons and brothers? + Tell me, thou villain slave, where are my children? + DUCHESS. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother + Clarence? + And little Ned Plantagenet, his son? + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, + Grey? + DUCHESS. Where is kind Hastings? + KING RICHARD. A flourish, trumpets! Strike alarum, drums! + Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women + Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I say! + [Flourish. Alarums] + Either be patient and entreat me fair, + Or with the clamorous report of war + Thus will I drown your exclamations. + DUCHESS. Art thou my son? + KING RICHARD. Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself. + DUCHESS. Then patiently hear my impatience. + KING RICHARD. Madam, I have a touch of your condition + That cannot brook the accent of reproof. + DUCHESS. O, let me speak! + KING RICHARD. Do, then; but I'll not hear. + DUCHESS. I will be mild and gentle in my words. + KING RICHARD. And brief, good mother; for I am in haste. + DUCHESS. Art thou so hasty? I have stay'd for thee, + God knows, in torment and in agony. + KING RICHARD. And came I not at last to comfort you? + DUCHESS. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well + Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell. + A grievous burden was thy birth to me; + Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; + Thy school-days frightful, desp'rate, wild, and furious; + Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous; + Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, + More mild, but yet more harmful-kind in hatred. + What comfortable hour canst thou name + That ever grac'd me with thy company? + KING RICHARD. Faith, none but Humphrey Hour, that call'd + your Grace + To breakfast once forth of my company. + If I be so disgracious in your eye, + Let me march on and not offend you, madam. + Strike up the drum. + DUCHESS. I prithee hear me speak. + KING RICHARD. You speak too bitterly. + DUCHESS. Hear me a word; + For I shall never speak to thee again. + KING RICHARD. So. + DUCHESS. Either thou wilt die by God's just ordinance + Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror; + Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish + And never more behold thy face again. + Therefore take with thee my most grievous curse, + Which in the day of battle tire thee more + Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st! + My prayers on the adverse party fight; + And there the little souls of Edward's children + Whisper the spirits of thine enemies + And promise them success and victory. + Bloody thou art; bloody will be thy end. + Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend. Exit + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Though far more cause, yet much less + spirit to curse + Abides in me; I say amen to her. + KING RICHARD. Stay, madam, I must talk a word with you. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. I have no moe sons of the royal blood + For thee to slaughter. For my daughters, Richard, + They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens; + And therefore level not to hit their lives. + KING RICHARD. You have a daughter call'd Elizabeth. + Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. And must she die for this? O, let her + live, + And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty, + Slander myself as false to Edward's bed, + Throw over her the veil of infamy; + So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter, + I will confess she was not Edward's daughter. + KING RICHARD. Wrong not her birth; she is a royal + Princess. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. To save her life I'll say she is not so. + KING RICHARD. Her life is safest only in her birth. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. And only in that safety died her + brothers. + KING RICHARD. Lo, at their birth good stars were opposite. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. No, to their lives ill friends were + contrary. + KING RICHARD. All unavoided is the doom of destiny. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. True, when avoided grace makes destiny. + My babes were destin'd to a fairer death, + If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life. + KING RICHARD. You speak as if that I had slain my cousins. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle + cozen'd + Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. + Whose hand soever lanc'd their tender hearts, + Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction. + No doubt the murd'rous knife was dull and blunt + Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart + To revel in the entrails of my lambs. + But that stiff use of grief makes wild grief tame, + My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys + Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes; + And I, in such a desp'rate bay of death, + Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft, + Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom. + KING RICHARD. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise + And dangerous success of bloody wars, + As I intend more good to you and yours + Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd! + QUEEN ELIZABETH. What good is cover'd with the face of + heaven, + To be discover'd, that can do me good? + KING RICHARD. advancement of your children, gentle + lady. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their + heads? + KING RICHARD. Unto the dignity and height of Fortune, + The high imperial type of this earth's glory. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Flatter my sorrow with report of it; + Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour, + Canst thou demise to any child of mine? + KING RICHARD. Even all I have-ay, and myself and all + Will I withal endow a child of thine; + So in the Lethe of thy angry soul + Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs + Which thou supposest I have done to thee. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Be brief, lest that the process of thy + kindness + Last longer telling than thy kindness' date. + KING RICHARD. Then know, that from my soul I love thy + daughter. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. My daughter's mother thinks it with her + soul. + KING RICHARD. What do you think? + QUEEN ELIZABETH. That thou dost love my daughter from + thy soul. + So from thy soul's love didst thou love her brothers, + And from my heart's love I do thank thee for it. + KING RICHARD. Be not so hasty to confound my meaning. + I mean that with my soul I love thy daughter + And do intend to make her Queen of England. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Well, then, who dost thou mean shall be + her king? + KING RICHARD. Even he that makes her Queen. Who else + should be? + QUEEN ELIZABETH. What, thou? + KING RICHARD. Even so. How think you of it? + QUEEN ELIZABETH. How canst thou woo her? + KING RICHARD. That would I learn of you, + As one being best acquainted with her humour. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. And wilt thou learn of me? + KING RICHARD. Madam, with all my heart. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Send to her, by the man that slew her + brothers, + A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave + 'Edward' and 'York.' Then haply will she weep; + Therefore present to her-as sometimes Margaret + Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood- + A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain + The purple sap from her sweet brother's body, + And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal. + If this inducement move her not to love, + Send her a letter of thy noble deeds; + Tell her thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence, + Her uncle Rivers; ay, and for her sake + Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne. + KING RICHARD. You mock me, madam; this is not the way + To win your daughter. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. There is no other way; + Unless thou couldst put on some other shape + And not be Richard that hath done all this. + KING RICHARD. Say that I did all this for love of her. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Nay, then indeed she cannot choose but + hate thee, + Having bought love with such a bloody spoil. + KING RICHARD. Look what is done cannot be now amended. + Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, + Which after-hours gives leisure to repent. + If I did take the kingdom from your sons, + To make amends I'll give it to your daughter. + If I have kill'd the issue of your womb, + To quicken your increase I will beget + Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter. + A grandam's name is little less in love + Than is the doating title of a mother; + They are as children but one step below, + Even of your metal, of your very blood; + Of all one pain, save for a night of groans + Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow. + Your children were vexation to your youth; + But mine shall be a comfort to your age. + The loss you have is but a son being King, + And by that loss your daughter is made Queen. + I cannot make you what amends I would, + Therefore accept such kindness as I can. + Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul + Leads discontented steps in foreign soil, + This fair alliance quickly shall call home + To high promotions and great dignity. + The King, that calls your beauteous daughter wife, + Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother; + Again shall you be mother to a king, + And all the ruins of distressful times + Repair'd with double riches of content. + What! we have many goodly days to see. + The liquid drops of tears that you have shed + Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl, + Advantaging their loan with interest + Of ten times double gain of happiness. + Go, then, my mother, to thy daughter go; + Make bold her bashful years with your experience; + Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale; + Put in her tender heart th' aspiring flame + Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the Princes + With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys. + And when this arm of mine hath chastised + The petty rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham, + Bound with triumphant garlands will I come, + And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed; + To whom I will retail my conquest won, + And she shall be sole victoress, Caesar's Caesar. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. What were I best to say? Her father's + brother + Would be her lord? Or shall I say her uncle? + Or he that slew her brothers and her uncles? + Under what title shall I woo for thee + That God, the law, my honour, and her love + Can make seem pleasing to her tender years? + KING RICHARD. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Which she shall purchase with + still-lasting war. + KING RICHARD. Tell her the King, that may command, + entreats. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. That at her hands which the King's + King forbids. + KING RICHARD. Say she shall be a high and mighty queen. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. To wail the title, as her mother doth. + KING RICHARD. Say I will love her everlastingly. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. But how long shall that title 'ever' last? + KING RICHARD. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. But how long fairly shall her sweet life + last? + KING RICHARD. As long as heaven and nature lengthens it. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. As long as hell and Richard likes of it. + KING RICHARD. Say I, her sovereign, am her subject low. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. But she, your subject, loathes such + sovereignty. + KING RICHARD. Be eloquent in my behalf to her. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. An honest tale speeds best being plainly + told. + KING RICHARD. Then plainly to her tell my loving tale. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Plain and not honest is too harsh a style. + KING RICHARD. Your reasons are too shallow and too quick. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. O, no, my reasons are too deep and + dead- + Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. + KING RICHARD. Harp not on that string, madam; that is past. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Harp on it still shall I till heartstrings + break. + KING RICHARD. Now, by my George, my garter, and my + crown- + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third + usurp'd. + KING RICHARD. I swear- + QUEEN ELIZABETH. By nothing; for this is no oath: + Thy George, profan'd, hath lost his lordly honour; + Thy garter, blemish'd, pawn'd his knightly virtue; + Thy crown, usurp'd, disgrac'd his kingly glory. + If something thou wouldst swear to be believ'd, + Swear then by something that thou hast not wrong'd. + KING RICHARD. Then, by my self- + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Thy self is self-misus'd. + KING RICHARD. Now, by the world- + QUEEN ELIZABETH. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs. + KING RICHARD. My father's death- + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Thy life hath it dishonour'd. + KING RICHARD. Why, then, by God- + QUEEN ELIZABETH. God's wrong is most of all. + If thou didst fear to break an oath with Him, + The unity the King my husband made + Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers died. + If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by Him, + Th' imperial metal, circling now thy head, + Had grac'd the tender temples of my child; + And both the Princes had been breathing here, + Which now, two tender bedfellows for dust, + Thy broken faith hath made the prey for worms. + What canst thou swear by now? + KING RICHARD. The time to come. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. That thou hast wronged in the time + o'erpast; + For I myself have many tears to wash + Hereafter time, for time past wrong'd by thee. + The children live whose fathers thou hast slaughter'd, + Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age; + The parents live whose children thou hast butcher'd, + Old barren plants, to wail it with their age. + Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast + Misus'd ere us'd, by times ill-us'd o'erpast. + KING RICHARD. As I intend to prosper and repent, + So thrive I in my dangerous affairs + Of hostile arms! Myself myself confound! + Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours! + Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy rest! + Be opposite all planets of good luck + To my proceeding!-if, with dear heart's love, + Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts, + I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter. + In her consists my happiness and thine; + Without her, follows to myself and thee, + Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul, + Death, desolation, ruin, and decay. + It cannot be avoided but by this; + It will not be avoided but by this. + Therefore, dear mother-I must call you so- + Be the attorney of my love to her; + Plead what I will be, not what I have been; + Not my deserts, but what I will deserve. + Urge the necessity and state of times, + And be not peevish-fond in great designs. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus? + KING RICHARD. Ay, if the devil tempt you to do good. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Shall I forget myself to be myself? + KING RICHARD. Ay, if your self's remembrance wrong + yourself. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Yet thou didst kill my children. + KING RICHARD. But in your daughter's womb I bury them; + Where, in that nest of spicery, they will breed + Selves of themselves, to your recomforture. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? + KING RICHARD. And be a happy mother by the deed. + QUEEN ELIZABETH. I go. Write to me very shortly, + And you shall understand from me her mind. + KING RICHARD. Bear her my true love's kiss; and so, farewell. + Kissing her. Exit QUEEN ELIZABETH + Relenting fool, and shallow, changing woman! + + Enter RATCLIFF; CATESBY following + + How now! what news? + RATCLIFF. Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast + Rideth a puissant navy; to our shores + Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, + Unarm'd, and unresolv'd to beat them back. + 'Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral; + And there they hull, expecting but the aid + Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore. + KING RICHARD. Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of + Norfolk. + Ratcliff, thyself-or Catesby; where is he? + CATESBY. Here, my good lord. + KING RICHARD. Catesby, fly to the Duke. + CATESBY. I will my lord, with all convenient haste. + KING RICHARD. Ratcliff, come hither. Post to Salisbury; + When thou com'st thither- [To CATESBY] Dull, + unmindfull villain, + Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the Duke? + CATESBY. First, mighty liege, tell me your Highness' pleasure, + What from your Grace I shall deliver to him. + KING RICHARD. O, true, good Catesby. Bid him levy straight + The greatest strength and power that he can make + And meet me suddenly at Salisbury. + CATESBY. I go. Exit + RATCLIFF. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury? + KING RICHARD. Why, what wouldst thou do there before I + go? + RATCLIFF. Your Highness told me I should post before. + KING RICHARD. My mind is chang'd. + + Enter LORD STANLEY + + STANLEY, what news with you? + STANLEY. None good, my liege, to please you with + the hearing; + Nor none so bad but well may be reported. + KING RICHARD. Hoyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad! + What need'st thou run so many miles about, + When thou mayest tell thy tale the nearest way? + Once more, what news? + STANLEY. Richmond is on the seas. + KING RICHARD. There let him sink, and be the seas on him! + White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there? + STANLEY. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess. + KING RICHARD. Well, as you guess? + STANLEY. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton, + He makes for England here to claim the crown. + KING RICHARD. Is the chair empty? Is the sword unsway'd? + Is the King dead, the empire unpossess'd? + What heir of York is there alive but we? + And who is England's King but great York's heir? + Then tell me what makes he upon the seas. + STANLEY. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess. + KING RICHARD. Unless for that he comes to be your liege, + You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes. + Thou wilt revolt and fly to him, I fear. + STANLEY. No, my good lord; therefore mistrust me not. + KING RICHARD. Where is thy power then, to beat him back? + Where be thy tenants and thy followers? + Are they not now upon the western shore, + Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships? + STANLEY. No, my good lord, my friends are in the north. + KING RICHARD. Cold friends to me. What do they in the + north, + When they should serve their sovereign in the west? + STANLEY. They have not been commanded, mighty King. + Pleaseth your Majesty to give me leave, + I'll muster up my friends and meet your Grace + Where and what time your Majesty shall please. + KING RICHARD. Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with + Richmond; + But I'll not trust thee. + STANLEY. Most mighty sovereign, + You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful. + I never was nor never will be false. + KING RICHARD. Go, then, and muster men. But leave behind + Your son, George Stanley. Look your heart be firm, + Or else his head's assurance is but frail. + STANLEY. So deal with him as I prove true to you. Exit + + Enter a MESSENGER + + MESSENGER. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, + As I by friends am well advertised, + Sir Edward Courtney and the haughty prelate, + Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother, + With many moe confederates, are in arms. + + Enter another MESSENGER + + SECOND MESSENGER. In Kent, my liege, the Guilfords are in + arms; + And every hour more competitors + Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong. + + Enter another MESSENGER + + THIRD MESSENGER. My lord, the army of great Buckingham- + KING RICHARD. Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of + death? [He strikes him] + There, take thou that till thou bring better news. + THIRD MESSENGER. The news I have to tell your Majesty + Is that by sudden floods and fall of waters + Buckingham's army is dispers'd and scatter'd; + And he himself wand'red away alone, + No man knows whither. + KING RICHARD. I cry thee mercy. + There is my purse to cure that blow of thine. + Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd + Reward to him that brings the traitor in? + THIRD MESSENGER. Such proclamation hath been made, + my Lord. + + Enter another MESSENGER + + FOURTH MESSENGER. Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis + Dorset, + 'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms. + But this good comfort bring I to your Highness- + The Britaine navy is dispers'd by tempest. + Richmond in Dorsetshire sent out a boat + Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks + If they were his assistants, yea or no; + Who answer'd him they came from Buckingham + Upon his party. He, mistrusting them, + Hois'd sail, and made his course again for Britaine. + KING RICHARD. March on, march on, since we are up in + arms; + If not to fight with foreign enemies, + Yet to beat down these rebels here at home. + + Re-enter CATESBY + + CATESBY. My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken- + That is the best news. That the Earl of Richmond + Is with a mighty power landed at Milford + Is colder tidings, yet they must be told. + KING RICHARD. Away towards Salisbury! While we reason + here + A royal battle might be won and lost. + Some one take order Buckingham be brought + To Salisbury; the rest march on with me. + Flourish. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 5. + +LORD DERBY'S house + +Enter STANLEY and SIR CHRISTOPHER URSWICK + + STANLEY. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me: + That in the sty of the most deadly boar + My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold; + If I revolt, off goes young George's head; + The fear of that holds off my present aid. + So, get thee gone; commend me to thy lord. + Withal say that the Queen hath heartily consented + He should espouse Elizabeth her daughter. + But tell me, where is princely Richmond now? + CHRISTOPHER. At Pembroke, or at Ha'rford west in Wales. + STANLEY. What men of name resort to him? + CHRISTOPHER. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier; + SIR Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley, + OXFORD, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt, + And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew; + And many other of great name and worth; + And towards London do they bend their power, + If by the way they be not fought withal. + STANLEY. Well, hie thee to thy lord; I kiss his hand; + My letter will resolve him of my mind. + Farewell. Exeunt + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT V. SCENE 1. + +Salisbury. An open place + +Enter the SHERIFF and guard, with BUCKINGHAM, led to execution + + BUCKINGHAM. Will not King Richard let me speak with + him? + SHERIFF. No, my good lord; therefore be patient. + BUCKINGHAM. Hastings, and Edward's children, Grey, and + Rivers, + Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward, + Vaughan, and all that have miscarried + By underhand corrupted foul injustice, + If that your moody discontented souls + Do through the clouds behold this present hour, + Even for revenge mock my destruction! + This is All-Souls' day, fellow, is it not? + SHERIFF. It is, my lord. + BUCKINGHAM. Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's + doomsday. + This is the day which in King Edward's time + I wish'd might fall on me when I was found + False to his children and his wife's allies; + This is the day wherein I wish'd to fall + By the false faith of him whom most I trusted; + This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul + Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs; + That high All-Seer which I dallied with + Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head + And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest. + Thus doth He force the swords of wicked men + To turn their own points in their masters' bosoms. + Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck. + 'When he' quoth she 'shall split thy heart with sorrow, + Remember Margaret was a prophetess.' + Come lead me, officers, to the block of shame; + Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame. +Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 2. + +Camp near Tamworth + +Enter RICHMOND, OXFORD, SIR JAMES BLUNT, SIR WALTER HERBERT, and +others, +with drum and colours + + RICHMOND. Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends, + Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny, + Thus far into the bowels of the land + Have we march'd on without impediment; + And here receive we from our father Stanley + Lines of fair comfort and encouragement. + The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar, + That spoil'd your summer fields and fruitful vines, + Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough + In your embowell'd bosoms-this foul swine + Is now even in the centre of this isle, + Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn. + From Tamworth thither is but one day's march. + In God's name cheerly on, courageous friends, + To reap the harvest of perpetual peace + By this one bloody trial of sharp war. + OXFORD. Every man's conscience is a thousand men, + To fight against this guilty homicide. + HERBERT. I doubt not but his friends will turn to us. + BLUNT. He hath no friends but what are friends for fear, + Which in his dearest need will fly from him. + RICHMOND. All for our vantage. Then in God's name march. + True hope is swift and flies with swallow's wings; + Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 3. + +Bosworth Field + +Enter KING RICHARD in arms, with NORFOLK, RATCLIFF, +the EARL of SURREY and others + + KING RICHARD. Here pitch our tent, even here in Bosworth + field. + My Lord of Surrey, why look you so sad? + SURREY. My heart is ten times lighter than my looks. + KING RICHARD. My Lord of Norfolk! + NORFOLK. Here, most gracious liege. + KING RICHARD. Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha! must we + not? + NORFOLK. We must both give and take, my loving lord. + KING RICHARD. Up With my tent! Here will I lie to-night; + [Soldiers begin to set up the KING'S tent] + But where to-morrow? Well, all's one for that. + Who hath descried the number of the traitors? + NORFOLK. Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. + KING RICHARD. Why, our battalia trebles that account; + Besides, the King's name is a tower of strength, + Which they upon the adverse faction want. + Up with the tent! Come, noble gentlemen, + Let us survey the vantage of the ground. + Call for some men of sound direction. + Let's lack no discipline, make no delay; + For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day. Exeunt + + Enter, on the other side of the field, + RICHMOND, SIR WILLIAM BRANDON, OXFORD, DORSET, + and others. Some pitch RICHMOND'S tent + + RICHMOND. The weary sun hath made a golden set, + And by the bright tract of his fiery car + Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow. + Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard. + Give me some ink and paper in my tent. + I'll draw the form and model of our battle, + Limit each leader to his several charge, + And part in just proportion our small power. + My Lord of Oxford-you, Sir William Brandon- + And you, Sir Walter Herbert-stay with me. + The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment; + Good Captain Blunt, bear my good night to him, + And by the second hour in the morning + Desire the Earl to see me in my tent. + Yet one thing more, good Captain, do for me- + Where is Lord Stanley quarter'd, do you know? + BLUNT. Unless I have mista'en his colours much- + Which well I am assur'd I have not done- + His regiment lies half a mile at least + South from the mighty power of the King. + RICHMOND. If without peril it be possible, + Sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak with him + And give him from me this most needful note. + BLUNT. Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake it; + And so, God give you quiet rest to-night! + RICHMOND. Good night, good Captain Blunt. Come, + gentlemen, + Let us consult upon to-morrow's business. + In to my tent; the dew is raw and cold. + [They withdraw into the tent] + + Enter, to histent, KING RICHARD, NORFOLK, + RATCLIFF, and CATESBY + + KING RICHARD. What is't o'clock? + CATESBY. It's supper-time, my lord; + It's nine o'clock. + KING RICHARD. I will not sup to-night. + Give me some ink and paper. + What, is my beaver easier than it was? + And all my armour laid into my tent? + CATESBY. It is, my liege; and all things are in readiness. + KING RICHARD. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge; + Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels. + NORFOLK. I go, my lord. + KING RICHARD. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk. + NORFOLK. I warrant you, my lord. Exit + KING RICHARD. Catesby! + CATESBY. My lord? + KING RICHARD. Send out a pursuivant-at-arms + To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power + Before sunrising, lest his son George fall + Into the blind cave of eternal night. Exit CATESBY + Fill me a bowl of wine. Give me a watch. + Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow. + Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy. + Ratcliff! + RATCLIFF. My lord? + KING RICHARD. Saw'st thou the melancholy Lord + Northumberland? + RATCLIFF. Thomas the Earl of Surrey and himself, + Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop + Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers. + KING RICHARD. So, I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of wine. + I have not that alacrity of spirit + Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have. + Set it down. Is ink and paper ready? + RATCLIFF. It is, my lord. + KING RICHARD. Bid my guard watch; leave me. + RATCLIFF, about the mid of night come to my tent + And help to arm me. Leave me, I say. + Exit RATCLIFF. RICHARD sleeps + + Enter DERBY to RICHMOND in his tent; + LORDS attending + + DERBY. Fortune and victory sit on thy helm! + RICHMOND. All comfort that the dark night can afford + Be to thy person, noble father-in-law! + Tell me, how fares our loving mother? + DERBY. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother, + Who prays continually for Richmond's good. + So much for that. The silent hours steal on, + And flaky darkness breaks within the east. + In brief, for so the season bids us be, + Prepare thy battle early in the morning, + And put thy fortune to the arbitrement + Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war. + I, as I may-that which I would I cannot- + With best advantage will deceive the time + And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms; + But on thy side I may not be too forward, + Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George, + Be executed in his father's sight. + Farewell; the leisure and the fearful time + Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love + And ample interchange of sweet discourse + Which so-long-sund'red friends should dwell upon. + God give us leisure for these rites of love! + Once more, adieu; be valiant, and speed well! + RICHMOND. Good lords, conduct him to his regiment. + I'll strive with troubled thoughts to take a nap, + Lest leaden slumber peise me down to-morrow + When I should mount with wings of victory. + Once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen. + Exeunt all but RICHMOND + O Thou, whose captain I account myself, + Look on my forces with a gracious eye; + Put in their hands Thy bruising irons of wrath, + That they may crush down with a heavy fall + The usurping helmets of our adversaries! + Make us Thy ministers of chastisement, + That we may praise Thee in the victory! + To Thee I do commend my watchful soul + Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes. + Sleeping and waking, O, defend me still! [Sleeps] + + Enter the GHOST Of YOUNG PRINCE EDWARD, + son to HENRY THE SIXTH + + GHOST. [To RICHARD] Let me sit heavy on thy soul + to-morrow! + Think how thou stabb'dst me in my prime of youth + At Tewksbury; despair, therefore, and die! + [To RICHMOND] Be cheerful, Richmond; for the wronged + souls + Of butcher'd princes fight in thy behalf. + King Henry's issue, Richmond, comforts thee. + + Enter the GHOST of HENRY THE SIXTH + + GHOST. [To RICHARD] When I was mortal, my anointed + body + By thee was punched full of deadly holes. + Think on the Tower and me. Despair, and die. + Harry the Sixth bids thee despair and die. + [To RICHMOND] Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror! + Harry, that prophesied thou shouldst be King, + Doth comfort thee in thy sleep. Live and flourish! + + Enter the GHOST of CLARENCE + + GHOST. [To RICHARD] Let me sit heavy in thy soul + to-morrow! I that was wash'd to death with fulsome wine, + Poor Clarence, by thy guile betray'd to death! + To-morrow in the battle think on me, + And fall thy edgeless sword. Despair and die! + [To RICHMOND] Thou offspring of the house of Lancaster, + The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee. + Good angels guard thy battle! Live and flourish! + + Enter the GHOSTS of RIVERS, GREY, and VAUGHAN + + GHOST OF RIVERS. [To RICHARD] Let me sit heavy in thy + soul to-morrow, + Rivers that died at Pomfret! Despair and die! + GHOST OF GREY. [To RICHARD] Think upon Grey, and let + thy soul despair! + GHOST OF VAUGHAN. [To RICHARD] Think upon Vaughan, + and with guilty fear + Let fall thy lance. Despair and die! + ALL. [To RICHMOND] Awake, and think our wrongs in + Richard's bosom + Will conquer him. Awake and win the day. + + Enter the GHOST of HASTINGS + + GHOST. [To RICHARD] Bloody and guilty, guiltily awake, + And in a bloody battle end thy days! + Think on Lord Hastings. Despair and die. + [To RICHMOND] Quiet untroubled soul, awake, awake! + Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake! + + Enter the GHOSTS of the two young PRINCES + + GHOSTS. [To RICHARD] Dream on thy cousins smothered in + the Tower. + Let us be lead within thy bosom, Richard, + And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death! + Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair and die. + [To RICHMOND] Sleep, Richmond, sleep in peace, and + wake in joy; + Good angels guard thee from the boar's annoy! + Live, and beget a happy race of kings! + Edward's unhappy sons do bid thee flourish. + + Enter the GHOST of LADY ANNE, his wife + + GHOST. [To RICHARD] Richard, thy wife, that wretched + Anne thy wife + That never slept a quiet hour with thee + Now fills thy sleep with perturbations. + To-morrow in the battle think on me, + And fall thy edgeless sword. Despair and die. + [To RICHMOND] Thou quiet soul, sleep thou a quiet sleep; + Dream of success and happy victory. + Thy adversary's wife doth pray for thee. + + Enter the GHOST of BUCKINGHAM + + GHOST. [To RICHARD] The first was I that help'd thee + to the crown; + The last was I that felt thy tyranny. + O, in the battle think on Buckingham, + And die in terror of thy guiltiness! + Dream on, dream on of bloody deeds and death; + Fainting, despair; despairing, yield thy breath! + [To RICHMOND] I died for hope ere I could lend thee aid; + But cheer thy heart and be thou not dismay'd: + God and good angels fight on Richmond's side; + And Richard falls in height of all his pride. + [The GHOSTS vanish. RICHARD starts out of his dream] + KING RICHARD. Give me another horse. Bind up my wounds. + Have mercy, Jesu! Soft! I did but dream. + O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me! + The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight. + Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. + What do I fear? Myself? There's none else by. + Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I. + Is there a murderer here? No-yes, I am. + Then fly. What, from myself? Great reason why- + Lest I revenge. What, myself upon myself! + Alack, I love myself. Wherefore? For any good + That I myself have done unto myself? + O, no! Alas, I rather hate myself + For hateful deeds committed by myself! + I am a villain; yet I lie, I am not. + Fool, of thyself speak well. Fool, do not flatter. + My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, + And every tongue brings in a several tale, + And every tale condemns me for a villain. + Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; + Murder, stern murder, in the dir'st degree; + All several sins, all us'd in each degree, + Throng to the bar, crying all 'Guilty! guilty!' + I shall despair. There is no creature loves me; + And if I die no soul will pity me: + And wherefore should they, since that I myself + Find in myself no pity to myself? + Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd + Came to my tent, and every one did threat + To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard. + + Enter RATCLIFF + + RATCLIFF. My lord! + KING RICHARD. Zounds, who is there? + RATCLIFF. Ratcliff, my lord; 'tis I. The early village-cock + Hath twice done salutation to the morn; + Your friends are up and buckle on their armour. + KING RICHARD. O Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fearful dream! + What think'st thou-will our friends prove all true? + RATCLIFF. No doubt, my lord. + KING RICHARD. O Ratcliff, I fear, I fear. + RATCLIFF. Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows. + KING RICHARD By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night + Have stuck more terror to the soul of Richard + Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers + Armed in proof and led by shallow Richmond. + 'Tis not yet near day. Come, go with me; + Under our tents I'll play the eaves-dropper, + To see if any mean to shrink from me. Exeunt + + Enter the LORDS to RICHMOND sitting in his tent + + LORDS. Good morrow, Richmond! + RICHMOND. Cry mercy, lords and watchful gentlemen, + That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here. + LORDS. How have you slept, my lord? + RICHMOND. The sweetest sleep and fairest-boding dreams + That ever ent'red in a drowsy head + Have I since your departure had, my lords. + Methought their souls whose bodies Richard murder'd + Came to my tent and cried on victory. + I promise you my soul is very jocund + In the remembrance of so fair a dream. + How far into the morning is it, lords? + LORDS. Upon the stroke of four. + RICHMOND. Why, then 'tis time to arm and give direction. + + His ORATION to his SOLDIERS + + More than I have said, loving countrymen, + The leisure and enforcement of the time + Forbids to dwell upon; yet remember this: + God and our good cause fight upon our side; + The prayers of holy saints and wronged souls, + Like high-rear'd bulwarks, stand before our faces; + Richard except, those whom we fight against + Had rather have us win than him they follow. + For what is he they follow? Truly, gentlemen, + A bloody tyrant and a homicide; + One rais'd in blood, and one in blood establish'd; + One that made means to come by what he hath, + And slaughtered those that were the means to help him; + A base foul stone, made precious by the foil + Of England's chair, where he is falsely set; + One that hath ever been God's enemy. + Then if you fight against God's enemy, + God will in justice ward you as his soldiers; + If you do sweat to put a tyrant down, + You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain; + If you do fight against your country's foes, + Your country's foes shall pay your pains the hire; + If you do fight in safeguard of your wives, + Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors; + If you do free your children from the sword, + Your children's children quits it in your age. + Then, in the name of God and all these rights, + Advance your standards, draw your willing swords. + For me, the ransom of my bold attempt + Shall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face; + But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt + The least of you shall share his part thereof. + Sound drums and trumpets boldly and cheerfully; + God and Saint George! Richmond and victory! Exeunt + + Re-enter KING RICHARD, RATCLIFF, attendants, + and forces + + KING RICHARD. What said Northumberland as touching + Richmond? + RATCLIFF. That he was never trained up in arms. + KING RICHARD. He said the truth; and what said Surrey + then? + RATCLIFF. He smil'd, and said 'The better for our purpose.' + KING He was in the right; and so indeed it is. + [Clock strikes] + Tell the clock there. Give me a calendar. + Who saw the sun to-day? + RATCLIFF. Not I, my lord. + KING RICHARD. Then he disdains to shine; for by the book + He should have brav'd the east an hour ago. + A black day will it be to somebody. + Ratcliff! + RATCLIFF. My lord? + KING RICHARD. The sun will not be seen to-day; + The sky doth frown and lour upon our army. + I would these dewy tears were from the ground. + Not shine to-day! Why, what is that to me + More than to Richmond? For the selfsame heaven + That frowns on me looks sadly upon him. + + Enter NORFOLK + + NORFOLK. Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the field. + KING RICHARD. Come, bustle, bustle; caparison my horse; + Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power. + I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain, + And thus my battle shall be ordered: + My foreward shall be drawn out all in length, + Consisting equally of horse and foot; + Our archers shall be placed in the midst. + John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey, + Shall have the leading of this foot and horse. + They thus directed, we will follow + In the main battle, whose puissance on either side + Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse. + This, and Saint George to boot! What think'st thou, + Norfolk? + NORFOLK. A good direction, warlike sovereign. + This found I on my tent this morning. + [He sheweth him a paper] + KING RICHARD. [Reads] + 'Jockey of Norfolk, be not so bold, + For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.' + A thing devised by the enemy. + Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge. + Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls; + Conscience is but a word that cowards use, + Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe. + Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law. + March on, join bravely, let us to it pell-mell; + If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell. + + His ORATION to his ARMY + + What shall I say more than I have inferr'd? + Remember whom you are to cope withal- + A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways, + A scum of Britaines, and base lackey peasants, + Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth + To desperate adventures and assur'd destruction. + You sleeping safe, they bring to you unrest; + You having lands, and bless'd with beauteous wives, + They would restrain the one, distain the other. + And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow, + Long kept in Britaine at our mother's cost? + A milk-sop, one that never in his life + Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow? + Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again; + Lash hence these over-weening rags of France, + These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives; + Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit, + For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves. + If we be conquered, let men conquer us, + And not these bastard Britaines, whom our fathers + Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd, + And, in record, left them the heirs of shame. + Shall these enjoy our lands? lie with our wives, + Ravish our daughters? [Drum afar off] Hark! I hear their + drum. + Fight, gentlemen of England! Fight, bold yeomen! + Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head! + Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood; + Amaze the welkin with your broken staves! + + Enter a MESSENGER + + What says Lord Stanley? Will he bring his power? + MESSENGER. My lord, he doth deny to come. + KING RICHARD. Off with his son George's head! + NORFOLK. My lord, the enemy is pass'd the marsh. + After the battle let George Stanley die. + KING RICHARD. A thousand hearts are great within my + bosom. + Advance our standards, set upon our foes; + Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George, + Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons! + Upon them! Victory sits on our helms. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 4. + +Another part of the field + +Alarum; excursions. Enter NORFOLK and forces; to him CATESBY + + CATESBY. Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue! + The King enacts more wonders than a man, + Daring an opposite to every danger. + His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights, + Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death. + Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost. + + Alarums. Enter KING RICHARD + + KING RICHARD. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! + CATESBY. Withdraw, my lord! I'll help you to a horse. + KING RICHARD. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast + And I Will stand the hazard of the die. + I think there be six Richmonds in the field; + Five have I slain to-day instead of him. + A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! Exeunt + + + + +SCENE 5. + +Another part of the field + +Alarum. Enter RICHARD and RICHMOND; they fight; RICHARD is slain. +Retreat and flourish. Enter RICHMOND, DERBY bearing the crown, +with other LORDS + + RICHMOND. God and your arms be prais'd, victorious friends; + The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead. + DERBY. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee! + Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty + From the dead temples of this bloody wretch + Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal. + Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it. + RICHMOND. Great God of heaven, say Amen to all! + But, teLL me is young George Stanley living. + DERBY. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town, + Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us. + RICHMOND. What men of name are slain on either side? + DERBY. John Duke of Norfolk, Walter Lord Ferrers, + Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon. + RICHMOND. Inter their bodies as becomes their births. + Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled + That in submission will return to us. + And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament, + We will unite the white rose and the red. + Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction, + That long have frown'd upon their emnity! + What traitor hears me, and says not Amen? + England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself; + The brother blindly shed the brother's blood, + The father rashly slaughter'd his own son, + The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire; + All this divided York and Lancaster, + Divided in their dire division, + O, now let Richmond and Elizabeth, + The true succeeders of each royal house, + By God's fair ordinance conjoin together! + And let their heirs, God, if thy will be so, + Enrich the time to come with smooth-fac'd peace, + With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days! + Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord, + That would reduce these bloody days again + And make poor England weep in streams of blood! + Let them not live to taste this land's increase + That would with treason wound this fair land's peace! + Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again- + That she may long live here, God say Amen! Exeunt + +THE END + + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + + + +End of this Etext of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare King +Richard III + |