Authors: William Shakespeare
Richard III (17 page)
[
Exit Catesby
]
I must be married to my
brother’s daughter
63
,
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
67
sin:
Tear-falling pity
68
dwells not in this eye.
Enter
[
Page, with
]
Tyrrell
Is thy name Tyrrell?
TYRRELL
James Tyrrell, and your most obedient subject.
RICHARD
Art thou, indeed?
King Richard and Tyrrell speak aside
TYRRELL
Prove
72
me, my gracious lord.
RICHARD
Dar’st thou resolve to kill a
friend
73
of mine?
TYRRELL
Please you:
But had rather kill two enemies.
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
78
—
Tyrrell, I mean those bastards in the Tower.
TYRRELL
Let me have
open
80
means to come to them,
And soon I’ll rid you from the fear of them.
RICHARD
Thou sing’st sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrell
Go, by this
token
83
: rise, and lend thine ear.
Gives a token
There is no more but so
84
: say it is done,
Whispers
And I will love thee, and
prefer
85
thee for it.
TYRRELL
I will dispatch it straight.
Exit
[
Tyrrell, with the Page
]
Enter Buckingham
BUCKINGHAM
My lord, I have considered in my mind
The
late
request that you did
sound me in.
88
RICHARD
Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to Richmond.
BUCKINGHAM
I hear the news, my lord.
RICHARD
Stanley,
he
91
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
pawned
93
:
Th’earldom of Hereford and the
movables
94
Which you have promisèd I shall possess.
RICHARD
Stanley,
look to
96
your wife: if she convey
Letters to Richmond, you shall
answer
97
it.
BUCKINGHAM
What says your highness to my just request?
RICHARD
I do remember me, Henry the Sixth
Did prophesy that Richmond should be king,
When Richmond was a little
peevish
101
boy.
A king, perhaps—
BUCKINGHAM
May it please you to
resolve
103
me in my suit.
RICHARD
Thou troublest me: I am not in the
vein.
104
Exit
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
108
, while my fearful head is on!
Exit
running scene 15 continues
Enter Tyrrell
TYRRELL
The tyrannous and bloody act is done,
The most
arch
2
deed of piteous massacre
That ever yet this land was guilty of.
Dighton and Forrest, who I did
suborn
4
To do this piece of
ruthful
5
butchery,
Albeit they were
fleshed
6
villains, bloody dogs,
Melted with tenderness and mild compassion,
Wept like to children in
their deaths’ sad story.
8
‘O, thus’, quoth Dighton, ‘lay the gentle babes.’
‘Thus, thus’, quoth Forrest, ‘
girdling
10
one another
Within their
alabaster
11
innocent arms.
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,
And in their summer beauty kissed each other.
A book of prayers on their pillow lay,
Which one
15
’, quoth Forrest, ‘almost changed my mind.
But O! The devil’—there the villain stopped.
When Dighton thus told on: ‘We smotherèd
The most
replenishèd
18
sweet work of nature,
That from the
prime
creation e’er she
framed.
19
’
Hence both are
gone
20
with conscience and remorse:
They could not speak, and so I left them both,
To bear this tidings to the
bloody
22
king.
Enter Richard
And here he comes:—
All health, my sovereign lord!
RICHARD
Kind Tyrrell, am I happy in thy news?
TYRRELL
If to have done the thing you
gave in charge
26
Beget your happiness, be happy then,
For it is done.
RICHARD
But didst thou see them dead?
TYRRELL
I did, my lord.
RICHARD
And buried, gentle Tyrrell?
TYRRELL
The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them,
But where, to say the truth, I do not know.
RICHARD
Come to me, Tyrrell,
soon and
34
after supper,
When thou shalt tell the
process
35
of their death.
Meantime, but think how I may do thee good,
And
be
37
inheritor of thy desire.
Farewell till then.
TYRRELL
I humbly take my leave.
[
Exit
]
RICHARD
The son of Clarence have I pent up
close
40
,
His daughter
meanly have I matched in marriage
41
,
The sons of Edward sleep in
Abraham’s bosom
42
,
And Anne my wife hath bid the world good night.
Now,
for
44
I know the Breton Richmond aims
At young Elizabeth, my brother’s daughter,
And
by that knot
46
looks proudly on the crown,
To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer.
Enter Ratcliffe
RATCLIFFE
My lord!
RICHARD
Good or bad news, that thou com’st in so
bluntly?
49
RATCLIFFE
Bad news, my lord:
Morton
50
is fled to Richmond.
And Buckingham, backed with the
hardy
51
Welshmen,
Is in the field, and still his
power
52
increaseth.
RICHARD
Ely with Richmond troubles me more
near
53
Than Buckingham and his
rash-levied
54
strength.
Come, I have learned that
fearful commenting
55
Is
leaden servitor
56
to dull delay:
Delay
leads
impotent and snail-paced
beggary.
57
Then fiery
expedition
58
be my wing,
Jove’s Mercury
59
, and herald for a king!
Go, muster men.
My counsel is my shield
60
:
We must be
brief
when traitors
brave the field.
61
Exeunt
running scene 16
Enter old Queen Margaret
QUEEN MARGARET
So, now prosperity begins to
mellow
1
And drop into the rotten mouth of death.
Here in these
confines
3
slyly have I lurked.
To watch the waning of mine enemies.
A dire
induction
5
am I witness to,
And will to France, hoping the
consequence
6
Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.
Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret. Who comes here?
Enter Duchess [of York] and Queen [Elizabeth]
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Ah, my poor princes! Ah, my tender babes!
My
unblowed
flowers, new-appearing
sweets!
10
If yet your gentle souls fly in the air
And be not fixed
in doom perpetual
12
,
Hover about me with your airy wings
And hear your mother’s lamentation!
Aside
QUEEN MARGARET
Hover about her: say that
right for right
15
Hath dimmed your infant morn to aged night.
DUCHESS OF YORK
So many miseries have
crazed
17
my voice,
That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute.
Edward Plantagenet
19
, why art thou dead?
Aside
QUEEN MARGARET
Plantagenet doth
quit
20
Plantagenet:
Edward for Edward
21
pays a dying debt.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs,
And throw them in the
entrails
23
of the wolf?
When didst thou sleep when such a deed was done?
Aside
QUEEN MARGARET
When holy
Harry
25
died, and my sweet son.
DUCHESS OF YORK
Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal living ghost,
Woe’s scene, world’s shame,
grave’s due by life usurped
27
,
Brief
abstract
28
and record of tedious days,
Rest thy unrest on England’s
lawful
29
earth,
Sits down
Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood!
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Ah, that
thou
wouldst as soon
afford
31
a grave
As thou canst yield a melancholy seat!
Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here.
Sits with her
Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but we?
Comes forward
QUEEN MARGARET
If ancient sorrow be most reverend,
Give mine the benefit of
seniory
36
,
And let my griefs frown
on the upper hand.
37
Sits with them
If sorrow can
admit society
38
,
I had an
Edward
39
, till a Richard killed him:
I had a
husband
40
, till a Richard killed him:
Thou hadst an
Edward
41
, till a Richard killed him:
Thou hadst a
Richard
42
, till a Richard killed him.
DUCHESS OF YORK
I had a
Richard
43
too, and thou didst kill him;
I had a
Rutland
too, thou
holp’st
44
to kill him.
QUEEN MARGARET
Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard killed 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
48
,
To
worry
49
lambs and lap their gentle blood,
That foul
defacer of God’s handiwork
50
,
That reigns in
galled
51
eyes of weeping souls,
That
excellent
52
grand tyrant of the earth,
Thy womb let loose, to chase us to our graves.
O
upright
, just, and
true-disposing
54
God,
How do I thank thee, that this
carnal cur
55
Preys on the
issue
56
of his mother’s body.
And makes her
pew-fellow
with others’
moan!
57
DUCHESS OF YORK
O Harry’s wife,
triumph
58
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
61
with beholding it.
Thy Edward
he is dead, that killed
my Edward
62
:
The
other Edward
63
dead, to quit my Edward:
Young York
he is
but boot
, because
both they
64
Matched not the high
perfection of my loss.
65
Thy Clarence he is dead that stabbed my Edward,
And the beholders of this
frantic
67
play,
Th’adulterate
68
Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey,
Untimely smothered in their dusky graves.
Richard yet lives, hell’s black
intelligencer
70
,
Only reserved
their
factor
71
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 conveyed 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-backed
80
toad!
QUEEN MARGARET
I called thee then
vain flourish
81
of my fortune:
I called thee then poor
shadow
,
painted
82
queen,
The
presentation
83
of but what I was,
The
flattering index
of a direful
pageant
84
,
One heaved a-high, to be hurled down below,
A mother only
mocked
86
with two fair babes,
A
dream
of what thou wast, a garish
flag
87
,
To be the aim of every dangerous shot;
A
sign
of
dignity
89
, a breath, a bubble;
A queen
in jest
, only to
fill the
90
scene.
Where is thy husband now? Where be thy brothers?
Where be thy two sons? Wherein dost thou joy?
Who
sues
93
, and kneels and says, ‘God save the queen!’
Where be the
bending
94
peers that flattered thee?
Where be the thronging
troops
95
that followed thee?
Decline
96
all this, and see what now thou art:
For
97
happy wife, a most distressed widow:
For joyful
mother
, one that wails the
name
98
:
For one being sued to, one that humbly sues:
For queen, a very
caitiff
crowned with
care
100
:
For she that scorned at me, now scorned
of
101
me:
For she being feared of all, now fearing one:
For she commanding all, obeyed of none.
Thus hath the
course of justice whirled about
104
,
And left thee but a
very
105
prey to time,
Having no more but
thought
106
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 burdened yoke,
From which even here I slip my wearied head,
And leave the burden of it all on thee.
Farewell, York’s wife, and queen of sad
mischance
113
: