The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  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.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  I was provoked by her sland’rous tongue,

  That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.

  LADY ANNE

  Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind,

  That never dream’st on aught but butcheries.

  Didst thou not kill this king?

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER I grant ye.

  LADY 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.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  The better for the King of Heaven that hath him.

  LADY ANNE

  He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Let him thank me that holp to send him thither,

  For he was fitter for that place than earth.

  LADY ANNE

  And thou unfit for any place but hell.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.

  LADY ANNE

  Some dungeon.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER Your bedchamber.

  LADY ANNE

  III rest betide the chamber where thou liest.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  So will it, madam, till I lie with you.

  LADY ANNE

  I hope so.

  RICHARD 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?

  LADY ANNE

  Thou wast the cause of that accursed effect.

  RICHARD 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.

  LADY ANNE

  If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,

  These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  These eyes could not endure sweet 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.

  LADY ANNE

  Black night o’ershade thy day, and death thy life.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Curse not thyself, fair creature: thou art both.

  LADY ANNE

  I would I were, to be revenged on thee.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  It is a quarrel most unnatural,

  To be revenged on him that loveth you.

  LADY ANNE

  It is a quarrel just and reasonable,

  To be revenged on him that killed my husband.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,

  Did it to help thee to a better husband.

  LADY ANNE

  His better doth not breathe upon the earth.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  He lives that loves thee better than he could.

  LADY ANNE

  Name him.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER Plantagenet.

  LADY ANNE

  Why, that was he.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  The selfsame name, but one of better nature.

  LADY ANNE

  Where is he?

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER Here.

  She spits at him

  Why dost thou spit at me?

  LADY ANNE

  Would it were mortal poison for thy sake.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Never came poison from so sweet a place.

  LADY ANNE

  Never hung poison on a fouler toad.

  Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.

  LADY ANNE

  Would they were basilisks to strike thee dead.

  RICHARD 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,

  Shamed their aspects with store of childish drops.

  I never sued to friend nor enemy;

  My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word;

  But now thy beauty is proposed 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,

  ⌈He kneels and offers her his sword⌉

  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 stabbed young

  Edward;

  But ’was thy heavenly face that set me on.

  She drops the sword

  Take up the sword again, or take up me.

  LADY ANNE

  Arise, dissembler.

  ⌈He rises⌉

  Though I wish thy death,

  I will not be thy executioner.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.

  LADY ANNE

  I have already.

  RICHARD 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.

  LADY ANNE I would I knew thy heart.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER ’Tis figured in my tongue.

  LADY ANNE I fear me both are false.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER Then never man was true.

  LADY ANNE Well, well, put up your sword.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER Say then my peace is made. 185

  LADY ANNE That shalt thou know hereafter.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER But shall I live in hope?

  LADY ANNE All men, I hope, live so.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

  LADY ANNE To take is not to give.

  RICHARD 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.

  LADY ANNE What is it?

  RICHARD 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 interred

  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.

  LADY ANNE

  With all my heart—and much it joys me, too,

  To see you are become
so penitent.

  Tressell and Berkeley, go along with me.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Bid me farewell.

  LADY ANNE ’Tis more than you deserve.

  But since you teach me how to flatter you,

  Imagine I have said farewell already.

  Exeunt two with Anne

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Sirs, take up the corpse.

  GENTLEMAN Towards Chertsey, noble lord?

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER.

  No, to Blackfriars; there attend my coming.

  Exeunt with corpse all but Gloucester

  Was ever woman in this humour wooed?

  Was ever woman in this humour won?

  I’ll have her, but I will not keep her long.

  What, I that killed 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 withal

  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

  Stabbed in my angry mood at Tewkesbury ?

  A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,

  Framed 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 cropped 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’lous 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

  1.3 Enter Queen Elizabeth, Lord Rivers, ⌈Marquis Dorset⌉, and Lord Gray

  RIVERS (to Elizabeth)

  Have patience, madam. There’s no doubt his majesty

  Will soon recover his accustomed health.

  GRAY (to Elizabeth)

  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?

  ⌈RIVERS⌉

  No other harm but loss of such a lord.

  QUEEN ELIZABETH

  The loss of such a lord includes all harms.

  GRAY

  The heavens have blessed 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.

  RIVERS

  Is it concluded he shall be Protector?

  QUEEN ELIZABETH

  It is determined, not concluded yet;

  But so it must be, if the King miscarry.

  Enter the Duke of Buckingham and Lord Stanley

  Earl of Derby

  GRAY

  Here come the Lords of Buckingham and Derby.

  BUCKINGHAM (to Elizabeth)

  Good time of day unto your royal grace.

  STANLEY (to Elizabeth)

  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, assured

  I hate not you for her proud arrogance.

  STANLEY

  I do beseech you, either not believe

  The envious slanders of her false accusers

  Or, if she be accused on true report,

  Bear with her weakness, which I think proceeds

  From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice.

  ⌈RIVERS⌉

  Saw you the King today, my lord of Derby?

  STANLEY

  But now the Duke of Buckingham and I

  Are come from visiting his majesty.

  QUEEN ELIZABETH

  With 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 Richard Duke of Gloucester and Lord Hastings

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  They do me wrong, and I will not endure it.

  Who are they that complain 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 abused

  With silken, sly, insinuating jacks?

  ⌈RIVERS⌉

  To whom in all this presence speaks your grace ?

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.

  When have I injured 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 scarce 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 provoked 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

  Of your ill will, and thereby to remove it.

  RICHARD 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.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Meantime, God grants that I have need of you.

  Our brother is imprisoned by your means,

  Myse
lf disgraced, 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 raised me to this care-full height

  From that contented hap which I enjoyed,

  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.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  You may deny that you were not the mean

  Of my Lord Hastings’ late imprisonment.

  RIVERS She may, my lord, for—

  RICHARD 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’?

  RICHARD 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 endured.

  I had rather be a country servant-maid

  Than a great queen, with this condition:

  To be so baited, scorned, and stormed at.Enter old Queen Margaret, unseen behind them

  Small joy have I in being England’s queen.

  QUEEN MARGARET (aside)

  And lessened be that small, God I beseech him.

  Thy honour, state, and seat is due to me.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER (to Elizabeth)

  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’ Tower.

  ‘Tis time to speak; my pains are quite forgot.

  QUEEN MARGARET (aside)

  Out, devil! I remember them too well.

  Thou killed’st my husband Henry in the Tower,

  And Edward, my poor son, at Tewkesbury.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER (to Elizabeth)

  Ere you were queen—ay, or your husband king—

  I was a packhorse in his great affairs,

  A weeder-out of his proud adversaries,

  A liberal rewarder of his friends.