The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 317
And so most joyfully we take our leave.
RICHARD Come, let us to our holy work again.
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Farewell my cousin, farewell gentle friends. Exeunt.
4.1 Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, the DUCHESS OF YORK,
MARQUESS OF DORSET at one door; ANNE, DUCHESS OF
GLOUCESTER at another door with Clarence’s daughter.
DUCHESS Who meets us here? My niece Plantagenet
Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester:
Now, for my life, she’s wandering to the Tower,
On pure heart’s love, to greet the tender Prince.
Daughter, well met.
ANNE God give your Graces both
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A happy and a joyful time of day.
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.
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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,
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I may not suffer you to visit them:
The King hath strictly charg’d the contrary.
ELIZABETH The King! Who’s that?
BRAKENBURY I mean the Lord Protector.
ELIZABETH
The Lord protect him from that kingly title!
Hath he set bounds between their love and me?
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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.
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BRAKENBURY No, madam, no: I may not leave it so.
I am bound by oath; and therefore pardon me. Exit.
Enter STANLEY, EARL OF DERBY.
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.
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[to Anne] Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster,
There to be crowned Richard’s royal 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.
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ANNE Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news!
DORSET
Be of good cheer, mother: how fares your Grace?
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.
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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:
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Nor mother, wife, nor England’s counted Queen.
STANLEY
Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.
[to Dorset] 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.
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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.
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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.
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Anointed let me be with deadly venom,
And die ere men can say ‘God save the 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
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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
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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
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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,
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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,
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And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
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.
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DUCHESS [to Dorset]
Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee;
[to Anne] Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee;
[to Elizabeth] Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts posess thee;
I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me.
Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen,
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And each hour’s joy wrack’d with a week of teen.
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,
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Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow
For tender princes, use my babies well.
So foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell. Exeunt.
4.2 The trumpets sound a sennet. Enter RICHARD in pomp, crowned; BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, RATCLIFFE, LOVELL with other nobles and a Page.
KING RICHARD Stand all apart. Cousin of Buckingham!
BUCKINGHAM My gracious sovereign!
KING RICHARD Give me thy hand.
[Here he ascendeth the throne.] [Sound trumpets.]
Thus high, by thy advice
And thy assistance is King Richard seated.
But shall we wear these glories for a day.
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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.
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BUCKINGHAM Say on, my loving lord.
KING RICHARD
Why, Buckingh
am, 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,
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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.
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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;
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I will resolve you herein presently. Exit.
CATESBY The King is angry: see, he gnaws his lip.
KING RICHARD [aside]
I will converse with iron-witted fools
And unrespective boys; none are for me
That look into me with considerate eyes.
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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?
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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.
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KING RICHARD
I partly know the man: go call him hither. Exit Page.
[aside] 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.
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Enter STANLEY, EARL OF DERBY.
How now, Lord Stanley, what’s the news?
STANLEY Know, my loving lord,
The Marquess Dorset, as I hear, is fled
To Richmond in the parts where he abides.
KING RICHARD
Come hither, Catesby. Rumour it abroad
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That Anne my wife is very grievous sick;
I will take order for her keeping close.
Enquire me out some mean poor gentleman,
Whom I will marry straight to Clarence’ daughter –
The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.
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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,
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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.
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Enter 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.
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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,
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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.
[He whispers in his ear.]
There is no more but so: say it is done,
And I will love thee, and prefer thee for it.
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TYRREL I will dispatch it straight. Exit.
Enter BUCKINGHAM.
BUCKINGHAM My lord, I have consider’d in my mind
The late request that you did sound me in.
KING RICHARD