Richard III (16 page)

RICHARD
    Come, let us to our holy work again.—

Farewell, my cousins: farewell, gentle friends.

DUCHESS OF YORK
    Who meets us here? My
niece
¹
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
⁴
prince.

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 further than the Tower, and, as I guess,

Upon the
like devotion
¹⁰
as yourselves,

To
gratulate
¹¹
the gentle princes there.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
    Kind sister, thanks: we’ll enter all together.

And, in good time, here the lieutenant comes.

Master Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,

How cloth the prince, and my young son of York?

BRACKENBURY
    Right well, dear madam. By your patience,

I may not
suffer
¹⁷
you to visit them:

The king hath strictly charged the contrary.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
    The king? Who’s that?

BRACKENBURY
    I mean the Lord Protector.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
    The lord protect him from that kingly title!

Hath he set
bounds
²²
between their love and me?

I am their mother: who shall bar me from them?

DUCHESS OF YORK
    I am their father’s mother: I will see them.

ANNE
    Their aunt I am
in law
²⁵
, in love their mother:

Then bring me to their sights. I’ll bear thy blame

And take thy
office
²⁷
from thee, on my peril.

BRACKENBURY
    No, madam, no; I may not leave it so:

I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.

DERBY
    Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence,

And I’ll salute your grace of York as
mother
³¹
,

And reverend
looker-on
³²
, of two fair queens.—

Come, madam, you must
straight
³³
to Westminster,

There to be crownèd Richard’s royal queen.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
    Ah, cut my
lace
³⁵
asunder,

That my
pent
³⁶
heart may have some scope to beat,

Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news!

ANNE
    
Despiteful
³⁸
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
⁴⁴
the reach of hell.

Go,
hie
⁴⁵
thee, hie thee from this slaughter-house,

Lest thou increase the number of the dead

And make me die the
thrall
⁴⁷
of Margaret’s curse,

Nor
mother, wife, nor England’s
counted
⁴⁸
queen.

DERBY
    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
⁵¹

In your behalf, to meet you on the way.

Be not
ta’en tardy
⁵³
by unwise delay.

DUCHESS OF YORK
    O
ill-dispersing
⁵⁴
wind of misery!

O my accursèd womb, the bed of death!

A
cockatrice
⁵⁶
hast thou hatched to the world,

Whose
unavoided
⁵⁷
eye is murderous.

DERBY
    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
⁶⁰

Of golden metal that must round my brow

Were red-hot steel, to sear me to the brains!

Anointed
⁶³
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.
⁶⁶

ANNE
    No? Why? When he that is my husband now

Came to me, as I followed Henry’s corpse,

When scarce the blood was well washed from his hands

Which issued from my
other angel husband
⁷⁰

And that dear saint which then I weeping followed —

O, when I say I looked on Richard’s face,

This was my wish: ‘Be thou’, quoth I, ‘accursed

For making me, so young, so
old
⁷⁴
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
⁸¹
grew captive to his honey words

And proved the subject of mine own soul’s curse,

Which hitherto hath held mine eyes from rest,

For never yet one hour in his bed

Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep,

But with his
timorous
⁸⁶
dreams was still awaked.

Besides, he hates me for my father
Warwick
⁸⁷
,

And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
    Poor heart, adieu! I pity thy
complaining.
⁸⁹

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 OF YORK
    Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee.—

Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee.—

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 wrecked with a week of
teen.
⁹⁸

She starts to leave

QUEEN ELIZABETH
    Stay, yet look back with me unto the Tower.

Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes

Whom envy hath
immured
¹⁰¹
within your walls,

Rough cradle for such little pretty ones,

Rude
ragged
nurse, old
sullen
¹⁰³
playfellow

For tender princes: use my babies well.

So
¹⁰⁵
foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell.

RICHARD
    Stand all
apart.
¹
—Cousin of Buckingham.

BUCKINGHAM
    My gracious sovereign?

RICHARD
    Give me thy hand.

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 forever let them last!

RICHARD
    Ah, Buckingham, now do I
play the touch
⁹
,

To
try
if thou be
current
¹⁰
gold indeed:

Young Edward lives. Think now what I would speak.

BUCKINGHAM
    Say on, my loving lord.

RICHARD
    Why, Buckingham, I say I would be king,

BUCKINGHAM
    Why, so you are, my thrice-renownèd lord.

RICHARD
    Ha? Am I king? ’Tis so: but Edward lives.

BUCKINGHAM
    True, noble prince.

RICHARD
    O, bitter
consequence
¹⁷
,

That Edward still should live —
true noble prince.
¹⁸

Cousin, thou wast not
wont to be so dull.
¹⁹

Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead,

And I would have it
suddenly
²¹
performed.

What say’st thou now? Speak suddenly, be brief.

BUCKINGHAM
    Your grace may do your pleasure.

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
²⁶
, some pause, dear lord,

Before I
positively
²⁷
speak in this:

I will
resolve
²⁸
you herein presently.

CATESBY
    The king is angry: see, he gnaws his lip.

RICHARD
    I will converse with
iron-witted
³⁰
fools

And
unrespective
³¹
boys: none are for me

That look into me with
considerate
³²
eyes.

High-reaching
³³
Buckingham grows circumspect.—

Boy!

PAGE
    My lord?

RICHARD
    Know’st thou not any whom corrupting gold

Will tempt unto a
close
³⁷
exploit of death?

PAGE
    I know a discontented gentleman,

Whose humble means match not his
haughty
³⁹
spirit:

Gold were as good as twenty
orators
⁴⁰
,

And will, no doubt, tempt him to anything.

RICHARD
    What is his name?

PAGE
    His name, my lord, is Tyrrell.

RICHARD
    I partly know the man. Go, call him hither, boy.

The
deep-revolving
witty
⁴⁵
Buckingham

No more shall be the neighbour to my
counsels.
⁴⁶

Hath he so long
held out
⁴⁷
with me untired,

And stops he now for breath? Well, be it so.

How now, Lord Stanley, what’s the news?

DERBY
    Know, my loving lord, the marquis Dorset

As I hear, is fled to Richmond,

In the parts where he abides.

Stands apart

RICHARD
    Come hither, Catesby. Rumour it abroad

That Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick:

I will
take order
for her keeping
close.
⁵⁵

Inquire me out some
mean
⁵⁶
poor gentleman,

Whom I will marry straight to Clarence’ daughter:

The boy
⁵⁸
is foolish, and I fear not him.

Look,
how thou dream’st!
I say again,
give out
⁵⁹

That Anne my queen is sick and like to die:

About it, for
it stands me much upon
⁶¹
,

To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me.