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

BUCKINGHAM. Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer’d love.

CATESBY. O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit!

GLOUCESTER. Alas, why would you heap this care on me?

I am unfit for state and majesty.

I do beseech you, take it not amiss:

I cannot nor I will not yield to you.

BUCKINGHAM. If you refuse it-as, in love and zeal, Loath to depose the child, your brother’s son; As well we know your tenderness of heart And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse, Which we have noted in you to your kindred And egally indeed to all estates-Yet know, whe’er you accept our suit or no, Your brother’s son shall never reign our king; But we will plant some other in the throne To the disgrace and downfall of your house; And in this resolution here we leave you.

Come, citizens. Zounds, I’ll entreat no more.

GLOUCESTER. O, do not swear, my lord of Buckingham.

Exeunt BUCKINGHAM, MAYOR, and citizens CATESBY. Call him again, sweet Prince, accept their suit.

If you deny them, all the land will rue it.

GLOUCESTER. Will you enforce me to a world of cares?

Call them again. I am not made of stones, But penetrable to your kind entreaties, Albeit against my conscience and my soul.

Re-enter BUCKINGHAM and the rest Cousin of Buckingham, and sage grave men, Since you will buckle fortune on my back, To bear her burden, whe’er I will or no, I must have patience to endure the load; But if black scandal or foul-fac’d reproach Attend the sequel of your imposition, Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me From all the impure blots and stains thereof; For God doth know, and you may partly see, How far I am from the desire of this.

MAYOR. God bless your Grace! We see it, and will say it.

GLOUCESTER. In saying so, you shall but say the truth.

BUCKINGHAM. Then I salute you with this royal title-Long live King Richard, England’s worthy King!

ALL. Amen.

BUCKINGHAM. Tomorrow may it please you to be crown’d?

GLOUCESTER. Even when you please, for you will have it so.

BUCKINGHAM. Tomorrow, then, we will attend your Grace; And so, most joyfully, we take our leave.

GLOUCESTER. [To the BISHOPS] Come, let us to our holy work again.

Farewell, my cousin; farewell, gentle friends. Exeunt

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ACT IV. SCENE 1.

London. Before the Tower

Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, DUCHESS of YORK, and MARQUIS of DORSET, at one door; ANNE, DUCHESS of GLOUCESTER, leading LADY MARGARET PLANTAGENET, CLARENCE’s young daughter, at another door DUCHESS. Who meets us here? My niece Plantagenet, Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester?

Now, for my life, she’s wand’ring to the Tower, On pure heart’s love, to greet the tender Princes.

Daughter, well met.

ANNE. God give your Graces both

A happy and a joyful time of day!

QUEEN ELIZABETH. As much to you, good sister! Whither away?

ANNE. No farther than the Tower; and, as I guess, Upon the like devotion as yourselves, To gratulate the gentle Princes there.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Kind sister, thanks; we’ll enter all together.

Enter BRAKENBURY

And in good time, here the lieutenant comes.

Master Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave, How doth the Prince, and my young son of York?

BRAKENBURY. Right well, dear madam. By your patience, I may not suffer you to visit them.

The King hath strictly charg’d the contrary.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. The King! Who’s that?

BRAKENBURY. I mean the Lord Protector.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. 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. I am their father’s mother; I will see them.

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.

BRAKENBURY. No, madam, no. I may not leave it so; I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me. Exit Enter STANLEY

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!

ANNE. Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news!

DORSET. 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 slaughter-house, Lest thou increase the number of the dead, And make me die the thrall of Margaret’s curse, Nor mother, wife, nor England’s counted queen.

STANLEY. Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.

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. O ill-dispersing wind of misery!

O my accursed womb, the bed of death!

A cockatrice hast thou hatch’d to the world, Whose unavoided eye is murderous.

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

ANNE. And I with 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.

ANNE. No, why? When he that is my husband now Came to me, as I follow’d Henry’s corse; When scarce the blood was well wash’d from his hands Which issued from my other angel husband, And that dear saint which then I weeping follow’d-O, when, I say, I look’d on Richard’s face, This was my wish: ‘Be thou’ quoth I ‘accurs’d For making me, so young, so old a widow; And when thou wed’st, let sorrow haunt thy bed; And be thy wife, if any be so mad,

More miserable 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 prov’d the subject of mine own soul’s curse, Which hitherto hath held my 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 awak’d.

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.

ANNE. No more than with my soul I mourn for yours.

DORSET. Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory!

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

DUCHESS. [To DORSET] Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee!

[To ANNE] Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee! [To QUEEN ELIZABETH] Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee!

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

Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen, And each hour’s joy wreck’d with a week of teen.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Stay, yet look back with me unto the Tower.

Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes Whom envy hath immur’d within your walls, Rough cradle for such little pretty ones.

Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow For tender princes, use my babies well.

So foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell. Exeunt

SCENE 2.

London. The palace

Sound a sennet. Enter RICHARD, in pomp, as KING; BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, RATCLIFF, LOVEL, a PAGE, and others

KING RICHARD. Stand all apart. Cousin of Buckingham!

BUCKINGHAM. My gracious sovereign?

KING RICHARD. Give me thy hand.

[Here he ascendeth the throne. Sound]

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-renowned lord.

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 suddenly perform’d.

What say’st 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. [Aside to another] The King is angry; see, he gnaws his lip.

KING RICHARD. I will converse with iron-witted fools [Descends from the throne]

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. His name, my lord, is Tyrrel.

KING RICHARD. I partly know the man. Go, call him hither, boy. Exit PAGE

The deep-revolving witty Buckingham

No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels.

Hath he so long held out with me, untir’d, And stops he now for breath? Well, be it so.

Enter STANLEY

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

STANLEY. Know, my loving lord,

The Marquis Dorset, as I hear, is fled To Richmond, in the parts where he abides. [Stands apart]

KING RICHARD. Come hither, Catesby. Rumour it abroad That Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick; I will take order for her keeping close.

Inquire me out some mean poor 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

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.

Re-enter PAGE, with TYRREL

Is thy name Tyrrel?

TYRREL. James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject.

KING RICHARD. Art thou, indeed?

TYRREL. Prove me, my gracious