Die in his youth by like199 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 stalled204 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-by208,
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 unlooked212 accident cut off.
RICHARD Have done thy charm, thou hateful withered hag.213
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 them217 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 begnaw220 thy soul.
Thy friends suspect for221 traitors while thou liv'st,
And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends.
No sleep close up that deadly223 eye of thine,
Unless it be while some tormenting dream
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils.
Thou elvish-marked, abortive, rooting hog226,
Thou that wast sealed in thy nativity227
The slave of nature228 and the son of hell.
Thou slander of thy heavy229 mother's womb,
Thou loathed issue230 of thy father's loins,
Thou rag231 of honour, thou detested--
RICHARD Margaret.232
QUEEN MARGARET Richard.
RICHARD Ha?
QUEEN MARGARET I call thee not.
RICHARD I cry thee mercy236 then, for I did think
That thou hadst called me all these bitter names.
QUEEN MARGARET Why, so I did, but looked for238 no reply.
O, let me make the period239 to my curse.
RICHARD 'Tis done by me, and ends in 'Margaret'.
QUEEN ELIZABETH Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself.
QUEEN MARGARET Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune.242
Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled243 spider,
Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about?
Fool, fool, thou whet'st245 a knife to kill thyself.
The day will come that thou shalt wish for me
To help thee curse this poisonous bunch-backed247 toad.
HASTINGS False-boding woman, end thy frantic248 curse,
Lest to thy harm thou move our patience.
QUEEN MARGARET Foul shame upon you! You have all moved mine.
RIVERS Were you well served251, you would be taught your duty.
QUEEN MARGARET To serve me well, you all should do me duty252,
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 malapert256:
Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current.257
O, that your young nobility258 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 Good counsel, marry. Learn it, learn it, marquis.
DORSET It touches you, my lord, as much as me.
RICHARD Ay, and much more. But I was born so high264,
Our eyrie265 buildeth in the cedar's top,
And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun.266
QUEEN MARGARET And turns the sun267 to shade. Alas, alas!
Witness my son, now in the shade of death,
Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath
Hath in eternal darkness folded up.
Your eyrie buildeth in our eyrie's nest.
O God, that see'st it, do not suffer272 it.
As it is won with blood, lost be it so!
BUCKINGHAM 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 shame278,
And in that shame still279 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 fair283 befall thee and thy noble house.
Thy garments are not spotted with our blood,
Nor thou within the compass285 of my curse.
BUCKINGHAM Nor no one here, for curses never pass286
The lips of those that breathe them in the air.
QUEEN MARGARET I will not think but288 they ascend the sky,
And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace.
O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog:
Look when291 he fawns, he bites; and when he bites,
His venom tooth will rankle292 to the death.
Have not to do with him, beware of him.
Sin, death and hell have set their marks294 on him,
And all their ministers attend on him.
RICHARD What doth she say, my lord of Buckingham?
BUCKINGHAM Nothing that I respect297, my gracious lord.
QUEEN MARGARET What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel?
And soothe299 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
BUCKINGHAM My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses.
RIVERS And so doth mine. I muse why she's at liberty.
RICHARD 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 Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong.311
I was too hot to do somebody good312,
That is too cold313 in thinking of it now.
Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid:
He is franked up to fatting315 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 scathe318 to us.
RICHARD So do I ever, being well advised.319--
For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself.
Speaks to himself
Enter Catesby
CATESBY Madam, his majesty doth call for you,
And for your grace, and yours, my gracious lord.
QUEEN ELIZABETH Catesby, I come. Lords, will you go with me?
RIVERS We wait upon324 your grace.
Exeunt all but [Richard of] Gloucester
RICHARD I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl.
The secret mischiefs that I set abroach326
I lay unto the grievous charge of327 others.
Clarence, who I indeed have cast in darkness328,
I do beweep to many simple gulls329 --
Namely, to Derby, Hastings, Buckingham --
And tell them 'tis the queen and her allies331
That stir332 the king against the duke my brother.
Now they believe it,
and withal whet333 me
To be revenged on Rivers, Dorset, Grey.
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 ends338 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 hardy341, stout-resolved mates,
Are you now going to dispatch342 this thing?
FIRST MURDERER We are, my lord, and come to have the warrant
That we may be admitted where he is.
RICHARD Well thought upon. I have it here about me.
Gives the warrant
When you have done, repair346 to Crosby Place.
But, sirs, be sudden347 in the execution,
Withal obdurate348, do not hear him plead;
For Clarence is well-spoken349, and perhaps
May move your hearts to pity if you mark350 him.
FIRST MURDERER Tut, tut! My lord, we will not stand to prate351:
Talkers are no good doers. Be assured
We go to use our hands and not our tongues.
RICHARD Your eyes drop millstones when fools' eyes fall354 tears.
I like you, lads. About your business straight.355
Go, go, dispatch.
FIRST MURDERER We will, my noble lord.
[Exeunt]
Act 1 Scene 4
running scene 3
Enter Clarence and Keeper
KEEPER Why looks your grace so heavily1 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 spend5 another such a night,
Though 'twere6 to buy a world of happy days,
So full of dismal7 terror was the time.
KEEPER 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
Upon the hatches13: there we looked toward England,
And cited up14 a thousand heavy times,
During the wars of York and Lancaster
That had befall'n us. As we paced along
Upon the giddy17 footing of the hatches,
Methought that Gloucester stumbled, and in falling
Struck me, that thought to stay19 him, overboard,
Into the tumbling billows of the main.20
O lord, methought, what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of water in mine ears,
What sights of ugly death within mine eyes.
Methoughts I saw a thousand fearful wrecks:
A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon:
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued27 jewels,
All scattered in the bottom of the sea.
Some lay in dead men's skulls, and in the holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept,
As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems,
That wooed the slimy bottom of the deep,
And mocked the dead bones that lay scattered by.
KEEPER 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 flood37
Stopped in38 my soul, and would not let it forth
To find the empty, vast39 and wand'ring air,
But smothered it within my panting bulk40,
Which almost burst to belch it in the sea.
KEEPER Awaked you not in this sore42 agony?
CLARENCE No, no, my dream was lengthened after life.
O, then began the tempest to my soul,
I passed, methought, the melancholy flood45,
With that sour ferryman46 which poets write of,
Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.47
The first that there did greet my stranger48 soul,
Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick,
Who spake aloud, 'What scourge for perjury50
Can this dark monarchy afford51 false Clarence?'
And so he vanished. Then came wand'ring by
A shadow53 like an angel, with bright hair
Dabbled in blood, and he shrieked54 out aloud,
'Clarence is come: false, fleeting55, perjured Clarence,
That stabbed me in the field56 by Tewkesbury.
Seize on him, Furies57, take him unto torment!'
With that, methought, a legion58 of foul fiends
Environed59 me, and howled in mine ears
Such hideous cries, that with the very noise
I trembling waked, and for a season61 after
Could not believe but that I was in hell,
Such terrible impression made the dream.
KEEPER No marvel, lord, though64 it affrighted you,
I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.
CLARENCE Ah, keeper, keeper, I have done these things,
That now give evidence against my soul,
For Edward's sake, and see how he requites68 me.
O God! If my deep prayers cannot appease thee,
But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds,
Yet execute thy wrath in me alone,
O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children.
Keeper, I prithee73 sit by me awhile.
My soul is heavy74, and I fain would sleep.
KEEPER I will, my lord. God give your grace good rest.
Clarence sleeps
Enter Brackenbury, the Lieutenant
BRACKENBURY Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours76,
Makes the night morning, and the noontide77 night.
Princes have but their titles for78 their glories,
An outward honour for79 an inward toil,
And, for unfelt imaginations80,
They often feel a world of restless cares81:
So that between their titles and low name82,
There's nothing differs but the outward fame.83
Enter [the] two Murderers
FIRST MURDERER Ho, who's here?
BRACKENBURY What wouldst thou, fellow? And how cam'st thou hither?
SECOND MURDERER I would speak with Clarence, and I came
hither on my legs.
BRACKENBURY What, so brief?
FIRST MURDERER 'Tis better, sir, than to be tedious. Let
him see our commission, and talk no more.
Gives Brackenbury a paper
Reads
BRACKENBURY I am in this commanded to deliver
The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands.
I will not reason93 what is meant hereby,
Because I will94 be guiltless from the meaning.
There lies the duke asleep, and there the keys.
I'll to the king and signify to96 him
That thus I have resigned to you my charge.
Exit
FIRST MURDERER You may, sir, 'tis a point of wisdom. Fare you
well.
SECOND MURDERER What, shall we stab him as he sleeps?
FIRST MURDERER No: he'll say 'twas done cowardly, when he
wakes.
SECOND MURDERER Why he shall never wake until the great
judgement day.
FIRST MURDERER Why, then he'll say we stabbed him
sleeping.
SECOND MURDERER The urging107 of that word 'judgement' hath
bred a kind of remorse in me.
FIRST MURDERER What? Art thou afraid?
SECOND MURDERER Not to kill him, having a warrant, but to be
damned for killing him, f
rom the which no warrant can
defend me.
FIRST MURDERER I thought thou hadst been resolute.
SECOND MURDERER So I am, to let him live.
FIRST MURDERER I'll back to the Duke of Gloucester and tell him
so.
SECOND MURDERER Nay, I prithee stay117 a little. I hope this
passionate humour of mine will change. It was wont to hold118
me but while one tells twenty.119
They pause or count to twenty
FIRST MURDERER How dost thou feel thyself now?
SECOND MURDERER Some certain dregs of conscience are yet
within me.
FIRST MURDERER Remember our reward, when the deed's done.
SECOND MURDERER Come, he dies. I had forgot the reward.
FIRST MURDERER Where's thy conscience now?
SECOND MURDERER O, in the Duke of Gloucester's purse.
FIRST MURDERER When he opens his purse to give us our
reward, thy conscience flies out.
SECOND MURDERER 'Tis no matter, let it go. There's few or none
will entertain130 it.
FIRST MURDERER What if it come to thee again?
SECOND MURDERER I'll not meddle with it: it makes a man a
coward. A man cannot steal, but it accuseth him: a man
cannot swear, but it checks him: a man cannot lie134 with his
neighbour's wife, but it detects him. 'Tis a blushing
shamefaced spirit that mutinies in a man's bosom: it fills a
man full of obstacles: it made me once restore137 a purse of gold
that, by chance, I found: it beggars any man that keeps138 it: it
is turned out of towns and cities for139 a dangerous thing: and
every man that means to live well140 endeavours to trust to
himself and live without it.
FIRST MURDERER 'Tis even now at my elbow, persuading me not
to kill the duke.
SECOND MURDERER Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him144
not: he would insinuate145 with thee but to make thee sigh.
FIRST MURDERER I am strong-framed, he cannot prevail with
me.
SECOND MURDERER Spoke like a tall148 man that respects thy
reputation. Come, shall we fall to work?
FIRST MURDERER Take him on the costard150 with the hilts of thy
sword, and then throw him into the malmsey-butt151 in the
next room.
SECOND MURDERER O, excellent device; and make a sop153 of him.
FIRST MURDERER Soft, he wakes.
SECOND MURDERER Strike!
FIRST MURDERER No, we'll reason156 with him.
CLARENCE Where art thou, keeper? Give me a cup of wine.
SECOND MURDERER You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon.158
CLARENCE In God's name, what art thou?
FIRST MURDERER A man, as you are.
CLARENCE But not, as I am, royal.
FIRST MURDERER Nor you, as we are, loyal.
CLARENCE Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble.
FIRST MURDERER My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own.
CLARENCE How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak!
Your eyes do menace me: why look you pale?
Who sent you hither? Wherefore167 do you come?
SECOND MURDERER To, to, to--
Richard III (Modern Library Classics) Page 5
