The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works
Page 71
To royalize his blood, I spent mine own.
QUEEN MARGARET (aside)
Ay, and much better blood than his or thine.
RICHARD GLOUCESTER (to Elizabeth)
In all which time you and your husband Gray
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 (aside)
A murd’rous villain, and so still thou art.
RICHARD GLOUCESTER
Poor Clarence did forsake his father Warwick—
Ay, and forswore himself, which Jesu pardon—
QUEEN MARGARET (aside) Which God revenge!
RICHARD 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 (aside)
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 followed then our lord, our sovereign king.
So should we you, if you should be our king.
RICHARD 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 may you suppose in me,
That I enjoy being the queen thereof.
QUEEN MARGARET (aside)
Ah, little joy enjoys the queen thereof,
For I am she, and altogether joyless.
I can no longer hold me patient.
She comes forward
Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out
In sharing that which you have pilled 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 deposed, you quake like rebels.
(To Richard) Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away.
RICHARD GLOUCESTER
Foul wrinkled witch, what mak’st thou in my sight?
QUEEN MARGARET
But repetition of what thou hast marred:
That will I make before I let thee go.
A husband and a son thou ow’st to me,
(To Elizabeth) And thou a kingdom; (to the rest) all of
you allegiance.
This sorrow that I have by right is yours,
And all the pleasures you usurp are mine.
RICHARD 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
Steeped in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland—
His curses then, from bitterness of soul
Denounced against thee, are all fall’n upon thee,
And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed.
QUEEN ELIZABETH (to Margaret)
So just is God to right the innocent.
LORD HASTINGS (to Margaret)
O ‘twas the foulest deed to slay that babe,
And the most merciless that e’er was heard of.
RIVERS (to Margaret)
Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported.
DORSET (to Margaret)
No man but prophesied revenge for it.
BUCKINGHAM (to Margaret)
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.
(To Elizabeth) Edward thy son, that now is Prince of
Wales,
For Edward my 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 mayst thou live—to wail thy children’s death,
And see another, as I see thee now,
Decked in thy rights, as thou art ’stalled in mine.
Long die thy happy days before thy death,
And after many lengthened 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 stabbed with bloody daggers. God I pray him,
That none of you may live his natural age,
But by some unlooked accident cut off.
RICHARD GLOUCESTER
Have done thy charm, thou hateful, withered 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 begnaw 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-marked, abortive, rooting hog,
Thou that wast sealed 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—
RICHARD GLOUCESTER Margaret.
QUEEN MARGARET
Richard.
RICHARD GLOUCESTER Ha?
QUEEN MARGARET I call thee not.
RICHARD GLOUCESTER
I cry thee mercy then, for I did think
That thou hadst called me all these bitter names.
QUEEN MARGARET
Why so I did, but looked for no reply.
O let me make the period to my curse.
RICHARD GLOUCESTER
‘Tis done by me, and ends in ‘Margaret’.
QUEEN ELIZABETH (to Margaret)
Thus have you breathed 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-backed toad.
LORD HASTINGS
False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse,
Lest to thy harm th
ou move our patience.
QUEEN MARGARET
Foul shame upon you, you have all moved mine.
RIVERS
Were you well served, 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.
RICHARD GLOUCESTER
Good counsel, marry!—Learn it, learn it, Marquis.
DORSET
It touches you, my lord, as much as me.
RICHARD GLOUCESTER
Ay, and much more; but I was born so high.
Our eyrie 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 outshining beams thy cloudy wrath
Hath in eternal darkness folded up.
Your eyrie buildeth in our eyrie’s nest.—
O God that seest it, do not suffer it;
As it was won with blood, lost be it so.
⌈RICHARD GLOUCESTER⌉
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 butchered.
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.
She points at Richard
Look when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites,
His venom tooth will rankle to the death.
Have naught to do with him; beware of him;
Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him,
And all their ministers attend on him.
RICHARD 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
⌈LORD HASTINGS⌉
My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses.
RIVERS
And so doth mine. I muse why she’s at liberty.
RICHARD 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.
RICHARD 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 franked 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.
RICHARD GLOUCESTER
So do I ever—(speaks to himself) being well advised:
For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself.
Enter Sir William Catesby
CATESBY
Madam, his majesty doth call 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 Richard
RICHARD 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, whom 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 revenged on Rivers, Dorset, Gray;
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, resolvèd mates!
Are you now going to dispatch this thing?
A MURDERER
We are, my lord, and come to have the warrant,
That we may be admitted where he is.
RICHARD GLOUCESTER
Well thought upon; I have it here about me.
He gives them 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.
A MURDERER
Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand to prate.
Talkers are no good doers. Be assured,
We go to use our hands, and not our tongues.
RICHARD GLOUCESTER
Your eyes drop millstones when fools’ eyes fall tears.
I like you, lads. About your business straight.
Go, go, dispatch.
⌈MURDERERS⌉ We will, my noble lord.
Exeunt Richard at one door, the Murderers at another
1.4 Enter George Duke of Clarence and ⌈Sir Robert Brackenbury⌉
⌈BRACKENBURY⌉
Why looks your grace so heavily today?
CLARENCE
O I have passed 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.
⌈BRACKENBURY⌉
What was your dream, my lord? I pray you, tell me.
CLARENCE
Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower,
And was embarked to cross to Burgundy,
And in my company my brother Gloucester,
Who from my cabin tempted me to walk
&nb
sp; Upon the hatches; there we looked toward England,
And cited up a thousand heavy times
During the wars of York and Lancaster
That had befall’n us. As we paced along
Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
Methought that Gloucester stumbled, and in falling
Struck me—that sought 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,
Ten thousand men that fishes gnawed upon,
Wedges of gold, great ouches, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
All scattered in the bottom of the sea.
Some lay in dead men’s skulls; and in those holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept—
As ‘twere in scorn of eyes—reflecting gems,
Which wooed the slimy bottom of the deep
And mocked the dead bones that lay scattered by.
⌈BRACKENBURY⌉
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
Stopped-in my soul and would not let it forth
To find the empty, vast, and wand’ring air,
But smothered it within my panting bulk,
Who almost burst to belch it in the sea.
⌈BRACKENBURY⌉
Awaked you not in this sore agony?
CLARENCE
No, no, my dream was lengthened after life.
O then began the tempest to my soul!
I passed, 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 cried aloud, ‘What scourge for perjury
Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?’
And so he vanished. Then came wand‘ring by
A shadow like an angel, with bright hair,
Dabbled in blood, and he shrieked out aloud,
‘Clarence is come: false, fleeting, perjured Clarence,
That stabbed me in the field by Tewkesbury.
Seize on him, furies! Take him unto torment!’
With that, methoughts a legion of foul fiends
Environed me, and howled in mine ears
Such hideous cries that with the very noise
I trembling waked, and for a season after
Could not believe but that I was in hell,