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

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

TYRREL. Please you;

But I had rather kill two enemies.

KING RICHARD. Why, then 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.

TYRREL, I mean those bastards in the Tower.

TYRREL. 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, Tyrrel.

Go, by this token. Rise, and lend thine ear. [Whispers]

There is no more but so: say it is done, And I will love thee and prefer thee for it.

TYRREL. I will dispatch it straight. Exit Re-enter BUCKINGHAM

BUCKINGHAM. My lord, I have consider’d 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 unto it.

BUCKINGHAM. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise, For which your honour and your faith is pawn’d: 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—

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 show’d me the castle And call’d it Rugemount, 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 promis’d me.

KING RICHARD. Well, but 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 to-day.

BUCKINGHAM. May it please you to resolve me in my suit.

KING RICHARD. Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein.

Exeunt 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 Brecknock while my fearful head is on! Exit

SCENE 3.

London. The palace

Enter TYRREL

TYRREL. 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, who I did suborn To do this piece of ruthless butchery, Albeit they were flesh’d 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 kiss’d each other.

A book of prayers on their pillow lay; Which once,’ quoth Forrest ‘almost chang’d my mind; But, O, the devil’-there the villain stopp’d; When Dighton thus told on: ‘We smothered The most replenished 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. All health, my sovereign lord!

KING RICHARD. Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in thy news?

TYRREL. 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?

TYRREL. I did, my lord.

KING RICHARD. And buried, gentle Tyrrel?

TYRREL. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them; But where, to say the truth, I do not know.

KING RICHARD. Come to me, Tyrrel, 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.

TYRREL. I humbly take my leave. Exit KING RICHARD. The son of Clarence have I pent up close; His daughter meanly have I match’d in marriage; The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham’s bosom, And Anne my wife hath bid this world good night.

Now, for I know the Britaine Richmond aims At young Elizabeth, my brother’s daughter, And by that knot looks proudly on the crown, To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer.

Enter RATCLIFF

RATCLIFF. My lord!

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

RATCLIFF. Bad news, my lord: Morton is fled to Richmond; And Buckingham, back’d 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 learn’d that fearful commenting Is leaden servitor to dull delay;

Delay leads impotent and snail-pac’d beggary.

Then fiery expedition be my wing,

Jove’s Mercury, and herald for a king!

Go, muster men. My counsel is my shield.

We must be brief when traitors brave the field. Exeunt

SCENE 4.

London. Before the palace

Enter old QUEEN MARGARET

QUEEN MARGARET. So now prosperity begins to mellow And drop into the rotten mouth of death.

Here in these confines slily have I lurk’d 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.

Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret. Who comes here?

[Retires]

Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and the DUCHESS OF YORK

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 fix’d in doom perpetual,

Hover about me with your airy wings

And hear your mother’s lamentation.

QUEEN MARGARET. Hover about her; say that right for right Hath dimm’d your infant morn to aged night.

DUCHESS. So many miseries have craz’d my voice That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute.

Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?

QUEEN MARGARET. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet, Edward for Edward pays a dying debt.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs

And throw them in the entrails of the wolf?

When didst thou sleep when such a deed was done?

QUEEN MARGARET. When holy Harry died, and my sweet son.

DUCHESS. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal living ghost, Woe’s scene, world’s shame, grave’s due by life usurp’d, Brief abstract and record of tedious days, Rest thy unrest on England’s lawful earth, [Sitting down]

Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, that thou wouldst as soon afford a grave

As thou canst yield a melancholy seat!

Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here.

Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but we?

[Sitting down by her]

QUEEN MARGARET. [Coming forward] If ancient sorrow be most reverend,

Give mine the benefit of seniory,

And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.

If sorrow can admit society, [Sitting down with them]

Tell o’er your woes again by viewing mine.

I had an Edward, till a Richard kill’d him; I had a husband, till a Richard kill’d him: Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill’d him; Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard kill’d him.

DUCHESS. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him; I had a Rutland too, thou holp’st to kill him.

QUEEN MARGARET. Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard kill’d him.

From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept A hell-hound that doth hunt us all to death.

That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes To worry lambs and lap their gentle blood, That foul defacer of God’s handiwork, That excellent grand tyrant of the earth That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls, Thy womb let loose to chase us to our graves.

O upright, just, and true-disposing God, How do I thank thee that this carnal cur Preys on the issue of his mother’s body And makes her pew-fellow with others’ moan!

DUCHESS. O Harry’s wife, triumph not in my woes!

God witness with me, I have wept for thine.

QUEEN MARGARET. Bear with me; I am hungry for revenge, And now I cloy me with beholding it.

Thy Edward he is dead, that kill’d my Edward; The other Edward dead, to quit my Edward; Young York he is but boot, because both they Match’d not the high perfection of my loss.

Thy Clarence he is dead that stabb’d my Edward; And the beholders of this frantic play, Th’ adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, Untimely smother’d in their dusky graves.

Richard yet lives, hell’s black intelligencer; Only reserv’d their factor to buy souls And send them thither. But at hand, at hand, Ensues his piteous and unpitied end.

Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray, To have him suddenly convey’d from hence.

Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, That I may live and say ‘The dog is dead.’

QUEEN ELIZABETH. O, thou didst prophesy the time would come

That I should wish for thee to help me curse That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back’d toad!

QUEEN MARGARET. I Call’d thee then vain flourish of my fortune;

I call’d thee then poor shadow, painted queen, The presentation of but what I was,

The flattering index of a direful pageant, One heav’d a-high to be hurl’d down below, A mother only mock’d with two fair babes, A dream of what thou wast, a garish flag To be the aim of every dangerous shot, A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble, A queen in jest, only to fill the scene.

Where is thy husband now? Where be thy brothers?

Where be thy two sons? Wherein dost thou joy?

Who sues, and kneels, and says ‘God save the Queen’?

Where be the bending peers that flattered thee?

Where be the thronging troops that followed thee?

Decline an this, and see what now thou art: For happy wife, a most distressed widow; For joyful mother, one that wails the name; For one being su’d to, one that humbly sues; For Queen, a very caitiff crown’d with care; For she that scorn’d at me, now scorn’d of me; For she being fear’d of all, now fearing one; For she commanding all, obey’d of none.

Thus hath the course of justice whirl’d about And left thee but a very prey to time, Having no more but thought of what thou wast To torture thee the more, being what thou art.

Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow?

Now thy proud neck bears half my burden’d yoke, From which even here I slip my weary head And leave the burden of it all on thee.

Farewell, York’s wife, and queen of sad mischance; These English woes shall make me smile in France.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. O thou well skill’d in curses, stay awhile And teach me how to curse mine enemies!

QUEEN MARGARET. Forbear to sleep the nights, and fast the days;

Compare dead happiness with living woe; Think that thy babes were sweeter than they were, And he that slew them fouler than he is.

Bett’ring thy loss makes the bad-causer worse; Revolving this will teach thee