The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman—

Fram’d 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 cropp’d 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’llous 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

SCENE 3.

London. The palace

Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, LORD RIVERS, and LORD GREY

RIVERS. Have patience, madam; there’s no doubt his Majesty Will soon recover his accustom’d health.

GREY. 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?

GREY. No other harm but loss of such a lord.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. The loss of such a lord includes all harms.

GREY. The heavens have bless’d 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.

RIVER. Is it concluded he shall be Protector?

QUEEN ELIZABETH. It is determin’d, not concluded yet; But so it must be, if the King miscarry.

Enter BUCKINGHAM and DERBY

GREY. Here come the Lords of Buckingham and Derby.

BUCKINGHAM. Good time of day unto your royal Grace!

DERBY. 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, assur’d I hate not you for her proud arrogance.

DERBY. I do beseech you, either not believe The envious slanders of her false accusers; Or, if she be accus’d on true report, Bear with her weakness, which I think proceeds From wayward sickness and no grounded malice.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Saw you the King to-day, my Lord of Derby?

DERBY. But now the Duke of Buckingham and I Are come from visiting his Majesty.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. What 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 GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET

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

Who is it that complains 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 abus’d With silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

GREY. To who in all this presence speaks your Grace?

GLOUCESTER. To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.

When have I injur’d 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 searce 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 provok’d 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.

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!

GLOUCESTER. Meantime, God grants that I have need of you.

Our brother is imprison’d by your means, Myself disgrac’d, 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 rais’d me to this careful height

From that contented hap which I enjoy’d, 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.

GLOUCESTER. You may deny that you were not the mean Of my Lord Hastings’ late imprisonment.

RIVERS. She may, my lord; for—

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?

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 endur’d.

I had rather be a country servant-maid Than a great queen with this condition-To be so baited, scorn’d, and stormed at.

Enter old QUEEN MARGARET, behind Small joy have I in being England’s Queen.

QUEEN MARGARET. And less’ned be that small, God, I beseech Him!

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

GLOUCESTER. 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’ Tow’r.

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

QUEEN MARGARET. Out, devil! I do remember them to well:

Thou kill’dst my husband Henry in the Tower, And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury.

GLOUCESTER. 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;

To royalize his blood I spent mine own.

QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, and much better blood than his or thine.

GLOUCESTER. In all which time you and your husband Grey 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. A murd’rous villain, and so still thou art.

GLOUCESTER. Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick, Ay, and forswore himself-which Jesu pardon!-

QUEEN MARGARET. Which God revenge!

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. 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 follow’d then our lord, our sovereign king.

So should we you, if you should be our king.

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 you may suppose in me

That I enjoy, being the Queen thereof.

QUEEN MARGARET. As little joy enjoys the Queen thereof; For I am she, and altogether joyless.

I can no longer hold me patient. [Advancing]

Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out In sharing that which you have pill’d 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 depos’d, you quake like rebels?

Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away!

GLOUCESTER. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak’st thou in my sight?

QUEEN MARGARET. But repetition of what thou hast marr’d, That will I make before I let thee go.

GLOUCESTER. Wert thou not banished on pain of death?

QUEEN MARGARET. I was; but I do find more pain in banishment

Than death can yield me here by my abode.

A husband and a son thou ow’st to me; And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance.

This sorrow that I have by right is yours; And all the pleasures you usurp are mine.

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 Steep’d in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland-His curses then from bitterness of soul Denounc’d against thee are all fall’n upon thee; And God, not we, hath plagu’d thy bloody deed.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. So just is God to right the innocent.

HASTINGS. O, ‘twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, And the most merciless that e’er was heard of!

RIVERS. Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported.

DORSET. No man but prophesied revenge for it.

BUCKINGHAM. 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!

Edward thy son, that now is Prince of Wales, For Edward our 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 mayest thou live to wail thy children’s death, And see another, as I see thee now,

Deck’d in thy rights, as thou art stall’d in mine!

Long die thy happy days before thy death; And, after many length’ned 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 stabb’d with bloody daggers. God, I pray him, That none of you may live his natural age, But by some unlook’d accident cut off!

GLOUCESTER.