The Life and Death of King Richard III by William Shakespeare (books for men to read .TXT) 📕

him!
White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there?

STANLEY.
I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.

KING RICHARD.
Well, as you guess?

STANLEY.
Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton,
He makes for England here, to claim the crown.

KING RICHARD.
Is the chair empty? is the sword unsway'd?
Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd?
What heir of York is there alive but we?
And who is England's king but great York's heir?
Then tell me, what makes he upon the seas?

STANLEY.
Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.

KING RICHARD.
Unless for that he comes to be your liege,
You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes.
Thou wilt revolt and fly to him, I fear.

STANLEY.
No, mighty leige; therefore mistrust me not.

KING RICHARD.
Where is thy power, then, to beat him back?
Where be thy tenants and thy followers?
Are they not now upon the western shore,
Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships?

STANLEY.
No, my good lord, my friends are in the north.

KING RICHARD.
Cold friends to me: what do they in the north,
When they should serve their sovereign in the west?

STANLEY.
They have not been commanded, mighty king:
Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave,
I'll muster up my friends, and meet your grace
Where and what time your majesty shall please.

KING RICHARD.
Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond;
But I'll not trust thee.

STANLEY.
Most mighty sovereign,
You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful:
I never was nor never will be false.

KING RICHARD.
Go, then, and muster men. But leave behind
Your son, George Stanley: look your heart be firm,
Or else his head's assurance is but frail.

STANLEY.
So deal with him as I prove true to you.

[Exit.]

[Enter a MESSENGER.]

MESSENGER.
My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,
As I by friends am well advertised,
Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate,
Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,
With many more confederates, are in arms.

[Enter a second MESSENGER.]

SECOND MESSENGER.
In Kent, my liege, the Guilfords are in arms;
And every hour more competitors
Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong.

[Enter a third MESSENGER.]

THIRD MESSENGER.
My lord, the army of great Buckingham, -

KING RICHARD.
Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of death?

[He strikes him.]

There, take thou that till thou bring better news.

THIRD MESSENGER.
The news I have to tell your majesty
Is, that by sudden floods and fall of waters,
Buckingham's army is dispers'd and scatter'd;
And he himself wander'd away alone,
No man knows whither.

KING RICHARD.
I cry you mercy:
There is my purse to cure that blow of thine.
Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd
Reward to him that brings the traitor in?

THIRD MESSENGER.
Such proclamation hath been made, my liege.

[Enter a fourth MESSENGER.]

FOURTH MESSENGER.
Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis Dorset,
'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms.
But this good comfort bring I to your highness, -
The Britagne navy is dispers'd by tempest:
Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat
Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks
If they were his assistants, yea or no;
Who answer'd him they came from Buckingham
Upon his party. He, mistrusting them,
Hois'd sail, and made his course again for Britagne.

KING RICHARD.
March on, march on, since we are up in arms;
If not to fight with foreign enemies,
Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.

[Re-enter CATESBY.]

CATESBY.
My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken, -
That is the best news: that the Earl of Richmond
Is with a mighty power landed at Milford
Is colder tidings, yet they must be told.

KING RICHARD.
Away towards Salisbury! while we reason here
A royal battle might be won and lost: -
Some one take order Buckingham be brought
To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.

[Flourish. Exeunt.]


SCENE V. A Room in LORD STANLEY'S house.

[Enter STANLEY and SIR CHRISTOPHER URSWICK.]

STANLEY.
Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me: -
That in the sty of the most deadly boar
My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold:
If I revolt, off goes young George's head;
The fear of that holds off my present aid.
So, get thee gone: commend me to thy lord;
Withal say that the queen hath heartily consented
He should espouse Elizabeth her daughter.
But tell me, where is princely Richmond now?

CHRISTOPHER.
At Pembroke, or at Ha'rford-west in Wales.

STANLEY.
What men of name resort to him?

CHRISTOPHER.
Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier;
Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley;
Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,
And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew;
And many other of great name and worth:
And towards London do they bend their power,
If by the way they be not fought withal.

STANLEY.
Well, hie thee to thy lord; I kiss his hand;
My letter will resolve him of my mind.
Farewell.

[Gives papers to SIR CHRISTOPHER. Exeunt.]


ACT V.

SCENE I. Salisbury. An open place.

[Enter the Sheriff and Guard, with BUCKINGHAM, led to execution.]

BUCKINGHAM.
Will not King Richard let me speak with him?

SHERIFF.
No, my good lord; therefore be patient.

BUCKINGHAM.
Hastings, and Edward's children, Grey, and Rivers,
Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
Vaughan, and all that have miscarried
By underhand corrupted foul injustice, -
If that your moody discontented souls
Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
Even for revenge mock my destruction! -
This is All-Souls' day, fellow, is it not?

SHERIFF.
It is, my lord.

BUCKINGHAM.
Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's doomsday.
This is the day which in King Edward's time
I wish'd might fall on me, when I was found
False to his children and his wife's allies;
This is the day wherein I wish'd to fall
By the false faith of him whom most I trusted;
This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul
Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs:
That high All-Seer which I dallied with
Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head
And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest.
Thus doth He force the swords of wicked men
To turn their own points in their masters' bosoms:
Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck, -
"When he," quoth she, "shall split thy heart with sorrow,
Remember Margaret was a prophetess." -
Come lead me, officers, to the block of shame;
Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.

[Exeunt.]


SCENE II. Plain near Tamworth.

[Enter with drum and colours, RICHMOND, OXFORD, SIR JAMES BLUNT,
SIR WALTER HERBERT, and others, with Forces, marching.]

RICHMOND.
Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends,
Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny,
Thus far into the bowels of the land
Have we march'd on without impediment;
And here receive we from our father Stanley
Lines of fair comfort and encouragement.
The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar
That spoil'd your summer fields and fruitful vines,
Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough
In your embowell'd bosoms, - this foul swine
Lies now even in the centre of this isle,
Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn:
From Tamworth thither is but one day's march.
In God's name cheerly on, courageous friends,
To reap the harvest of perpetual peace
By this one bloody trial of sharp war.

OXFORD.
Every man's conscience is a thousand swords,
To fight against that bloody homicide.

HERBERT.
I doubt not but his friends will turn to us.

BLUNT.
He hath no friends but what are friends for fear,
Which in his dearest need will fly from him.

RICHMOND.
All for our vantage. Then in God's name, march:
True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings;
Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.

[Exeunt.]


SCENE III. Bosworth Field.

[Enter KING RICHARD and Forces; the DUKE OF NORFOLK, the EARL of
SURREY, and others.]

KING RICHARD.
Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth field. -
My Lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?

SURREY.
My heart is ten times lighter than my looks.

KING RICHARD.
My Lord of Norfolk, -

NORFOLK.
Here, most gracious liege.

KING RICHARD.
Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha! must we not?

NORFOLK.
We must both give and take, my loving lord.

KING RICHARD.
Up With my tent! Here will I lie to-night;

[Soldiers begin to set up the King's tent.]

But where to-morrow? Well, all's one for that. -
Who hath descried the number of the traitors?

NORFOLK.
Six or seven thousand is their utmost power.

KING RICHARD.
Why, our battalia trebles that account:
Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength,
Which they upon the adverse faction want. -
Up with the tent! - Come, noble gentlemen,
Let us survey the vantage of the ground; -
Call for some men of sound direction: -
Let's lack no discipline, make no delay;
For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day.

[Exeunt.]

[Enter, on the other side of the field, RICHMOND, SIR WILLIAM
BRANDON, OXFORD, and other Lords. Some of the Soldiers pitch
RICHMOND'S tent.]

RICHMOND.
The weary sun hath made a golden set,
And by the bright tract of his fiery car
Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.
Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard. -
Give me some ink and paper in my tent:
I'll draw the form and model of our battle,
Limit each leader to his several charge,
And part in just proportion our small power. -
My Lord of Oxford, - you, Sir William Brandon, -
And you, Sir Walter Herbert, - stay with me. -
The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment: -
Good Captain Blunt, bear my good night to him,
And by the second hour in the morning
Desire the earl to see me in my tent:
Yet one thing more, good captain, do for me, -
Where is Lord Stanley quarter'd, do you know?

BLUNT.
Unless I have mista'en his colours much, -
Which well I am assur'd I have not done, -
His regiment lies half a mile at least
South from the mighty power of the king.

RICHMOND.
If without peril it be possible,
Sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak with him
And give him from me this most needful note.

BLUNT.
Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake it;
And so, God give you quiet rest to-night!

RICHMOND.
Good night, good Captain Blunt. - Come, gentlemen,
Let us consult upon to-morrow's business:
In to my tent; the air is raw and cold.

[They withdraw into the tent.]

[Enter, to his tent, KING RICHARD, NORFOLK,
RATCLIFF, and CATESBY.]

KING RICHARD.
What is't o'clock?

CATESBY.
It's supper-time, my lord; It's six o'clock.

KING RICHARD.
I will not sup to-night. -
Give me some ink and paper. -
What, is my beaver easier than it was?
And all my armour laid into my tent?

CATESBY.
It is, my liege; and all things are in readiness.

KING RICHARD.
Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge;
Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels.

NORFOLK.
I go, my lord.

KING RICHARD.
Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk.

NORFOLK.
I warrant you,