The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  The Lord protect him from that kingly title.

  Hath he set bounds 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.

  LADY 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.

  BRACKENBURY

  No, madam, no; I may not leave it so.

  I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me. Exit

  Enter Lord 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.

  (To Anne) Come, madam, you must straight to

  Westminster,

  There to be crowned Richard’s royal queen.

  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.

  LADY ANNE

  Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news!

  DORSET (to Anne)

  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 the reach of hell.

  Go, hie thee! Hie thee from this slaughterhouse,

  Lest thou increase the number of the dead,

  And make me die the thrall of Margaret’s curses:

  ‘Nor mother, wife, nor counted England’s 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.

  Be not ta’en tardy by unwise delay.

  DUCHESS OF YORK

  O ill-dispersing wind of misery!

  O my accursed womb, the bed of death!

  A cockatrice hast thou hatched to the world,

  Whose unavoided eye is murderous.

  STANLEY (to Anne)

  Come, madam, come. I in all haste was sent.

  LADY ANNE

  And I in 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.

  Anointed 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.

  LADY 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

  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 a widow,

  And when thou wedd’st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;

  And be thy wife—if any be so mad—

  More miserable made 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 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 dreams was still awaked.

  Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick,

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

  QUEEN ELIZABETH

  Poor heart, adieu. I pity thy complaining.

  LADY ANNE

  No more than with my soul I mourn for yours.

  DORSET

  Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory.

  LADY ANNE

  Adieu, poor soul, that tak’st thy leave of it.

  DUCHESS OF YORK

  Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee.

  ⌈Exit Dorset⌉

  Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee.

  ⌈Exeunt Anne, Stanley, and Clarence’s daughter⌉

  Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee.

  ⌈Exit Elizabeth⌉

  I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me.

  Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen,

  And each hour’s joy racked with a week of teen.

  ⌈Exit⌉

  4.2 Sound a sennet. Enter King Richard in pomp, the Duke of Buckingham, Sir William Catesby, ⌈other nobles⌉, and a Page

  KING RICHARD

  Stand all apart.—Cousin of Buckingham.

  BUCKINGHAM My gracious sovereign?

  KING RICHARD Give me thy hand.

  Sound ⌈a sennet⌉. Here Richard ascendeth the throne

  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 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.

  BUCKINGHAM Say on, my loving lord.

  KING RICHARD

  Why, Buckingham, I say I would be king.

  BUCKINGHAM

  Why, so you are, my thrice-renownèd liege.

  KING RICHARD

  Ha? Am I king? ‘Tis so. But Edward lives.

  BUCKINGHAM

  True, noble prince.

  KING RICHARD

  O bitter consequence,

  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 immediately performed.

  What sayst thou now? Speak suddenly, be brief.

  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.

  I will resolve you herein presently. Exit

  CATESBY (to another, aside)

  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.

  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?

  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

&
nbsp; His name, my lord, is Tyrrell.

  KING RICHARD

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

  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 untired,

  And stops he now for breath? Well, be it so.Enter Lord Stanley Earl of Derby

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

  STANLEY Know, my loving lord,

  The Marquis Dorset, as I hear, is fled

  To Richmond, in those parts beyond the seas

  Where he abides.

  KING RICHARD

  Come hither, Catesby. (Aside to Catesby) Rumour it abroad

  That Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick.

  I will take order for her keeping close.

  Enquire me out some mean-born gentleman,

  Whom I will marry straight to Clarence’ daughter.

  The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.

  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⌉

  (Aside) I must be married to my brother’s daughter,

  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.—Enter Sir James Tyrrell; ⌈he kneels⌉

  Is thy name Tyrrell?

  TYRRELL

  James Tyrrell, and your most obedient subject.

  KING RICHARD

  Art thou indeed?

  TYRRELL

  Prove me, my gracious lord.

  KING RICHARD

  Dar’st thou resolve to kill a friend of mine?

  TYRRELL

  Please you, but I had rather kill two enemies.

  KING RICHARD

  Why there 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.

  Tyrrell, I mean those bastards in the Tower.

  TYRRELL

  Let me have open means to come to them,

  And soon I’ll rid you from the fear of them.

  KING RICHARD

  Thou sing’st sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrell.

  Go, by this token. Rise, and lend thine ear.

  Richard whispers in his ear

  ‘Tis no more but so. Say it is done,

  And I will love thee, and prefer thee for it.

  TYRRELL I will dispatch it straight. ⌈KING RICHARD⌉

  Shall we hear from thee, Tyrrell, ere we sleep?

  Enter Buckingham

  ⌈TYRRELL⌉ Ye shall, my lord. Exit

  BUCKINGHAM

  My lord, I have considered in my mind

  The late request that you did sound me in.

  KING RICHARD

  Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to Richmond.

  BUCKINGHAM I hear the news, my lord.

  KING RICHARD

  Stanley, he is your wife’s son. Well, look to it.

  BUCKINGHAM

  My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise,

  For which your honour and your faith is pawned:

  Th’earldom of Hereford, and the movables

  Which you have promised I shall possess.

  KING RICHARD

  Stanley, look to your wife. If she convey

  Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.

  BUCKINGHAM

  What says your highness to my just request?

  KING RICHARD

  I do remember me, Henry the Sixth

  Did prophesy that Richmond should be king,

  When Richmond was a little peevish boy.

  A king... perhaps... perhaps.

  BUCKINGHAM

  My lord?

  KING RICHARD

  How chance the prophet could not at that time

  Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him?

  BUCKINGHAM

  My lord, your promise for the earldom.

  KING RICHARD

  Richmond? When last I was at Exeter,

  The Mayor in courtesy showed me the castle,

  And called it ‘Ruge-mount’—at which name I started,

  Because a bard of Ireland told me once

  I should not live long after I saw ‘Richmond’.

  BUCKINGHAM My lord?

  KING RICHARD Ay? What’s o’clock?

  BUCKINGHAM

  I am thus bold to put your grace in mind

  Of what you promised me.

  KING RICHARD

  But what’s o’clock?

  BUCKINGHAM Upon the stroke of ten.

  KING RICHARD Well, let it strike!

  BUCKINGHAM Why ‘let it strike’?

  KING RICHARD

  Because that, like a jack, thou keep’st the stroke

  Betwixt thy begging and my meditation.

  I am not in the giving vein today.

  BUCKINGHAM

  Why then resolve me, whe’er you will or no?

  KING RICHARD

  Thou troublest me. I am not in the vein.

  Exit Richard, followed by all but Buckingham

  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 Brecon, while my fearful head is on.

  Exit ⌈at another door⌉

  4.3 Enter Sir James Tyrrell

  TYRRELL

  The tyrannous and bloody act is done—

  The most arch deed of piteous massacre

  That ever yet this land was guilty of.

  Dighton and Forrest, whom I did suborn

  To do this piece of ruthless butchery,

  Albeit they were fleshed villains, bloody dogs,

  Melted with tenderness and mild compassion,

  Wept like two children in their deaths’ sad story.

  ‘O thus’, quoth Dighton, ‘lay the gentle babes’;

  ‘Thus, thus’, quoth Forrest, ‘girdling one another

  Within their alabaster 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 once’, quoth Forrest, ‘almost changed my mind.

  But O, the devil’—there the villain stopped,

  When Dighton thus told on, ‘We smothered

  The most replenishèd sweet work of nature,

  That from the prime creation e’er she framed.’

  Hence both are gone, with conscience and remorse.

  They could not speak, and so I left them both,

  To bear this tidings to the bloody king.Enter King Richard

  And here he comes.—AH health, my sovereign lord.

  KING RICHARD

  Kind Tyrrell, am I happy in thy news?

  TYRRELL

  If to have done the thing you gave in charge

  Beget your happiness, be happy then,

  For it is done.

  KING RICHARD

  But didst thou see them dead?

  TYRRELL

  I did, my lord.

  KING RICHARD

  And buried, gentle Tyrrell?

  TYRRELL

  The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them;

  But where, to say the truth, I do not know.

  KING RICHARD

  Come to me, Tyrrell, soon, at after-supper,

  When thou shalt tell the process of their death.

  Meantime, but think how I may do thee good,

  And be inheritor of thy desire.

  Farewell till then. />
  TYRRELL

  I humbly take my leave.

  Exit

  KING RICHARD

  The son of Clarence have I pent up close.

  His daughter meanly have I matched in marriage.

  The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham’s bosom,

  And Anne, my wife, hath bid this world goodnight.

  Now, for I know the Breton Richmond aims

  At young Elizabeth, my brother’s daughter,

  And by that knot looks proudly o’er the crown,

  To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer—

  Enter Sir Richard Ratcliffe, ⌈running⌉

  RATCLIFFE My lord.

  KING RICHARD

  Good news or bad, that thou com’st in so bluntly?

  RATCLIFFE

  Bad news, my lord. Ely is fled to Richmond,

  And Buckingham, backed with the hardy Welshmen,

  Is in the field, and still his power increaseth.

  KING RICHARD

  Ely with Richmond troubles me more near

  Than Buckingham. and his rash-levied strength.

  Come, I have learned that fearful commenting

  Is leaden servitor to dull delay.

  Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary.

  Then fiery expedition be my wing:

  Jove’s Mercury, an herald for a king.

  Go, muster men. My counsel is my shield.

  We must be brief, when traitors brave the field.

  Exeunt

  4.4 Enter old Queen Margaret

  QUEEN MARGARET

  So now prosperity begins to mellow

  And drop into the rotten mouth of death.

  Here in these confines slyly have I lurked

  To watch the waning of mine enemies.

  A dire induction am I witness to,

  And will to France, hoping the consequence

  Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.⌈Enter the old Duchess of York and Queen Elizabeth⌉

  Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret. Who comes here?

  QUEEN ELIZABETH

  Ah, my poor princes! Ah, my tender babes!

  My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets!

  If yet your gentle souls fly in the air,

  And be not fixed in doom perpetual,

  Hover about me with your airy wings

  And hear your mother’s lamentation.

  QUEEN MARGARET (aside)

  Hover about her, say that right for right

  Hath dimmed your infant morn to aged night.

  DUCHESS OF YORK

  So many miseries have crazed my voice

  That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute.

  Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?