Richard III

Scena Secunda

Enter the old Dutchesse of Yorke, with the two children of Clarence.

 
  Edw. Good Grandam tell vs, is our Father dead?
  Dutch. No Boy
 
 
   Daugh. Why do weepe so oft? And beate your Brest?
And cry, O Clarence, my vnhappy Sonne
 
 
   Boy. Why do you looke on vs, and shake your head,
And call vs Orphans, Wretches, Castawayes,
If that our Noble Father were aliue?
  Dut. My pretty Cosins, you mistake me both,
I do lament the sicknesse of the King,
As loath to lose him, not your Fathers death:
It were lost sorrow to waile one that's lost
 
 
   Boy. Then you conclude, (my Grandam) he is dead:
The King mine Vnckle is too blame for it.
God will reuenge it, whom I will importune
With earnest prayers, all to that effect
 
 
Daugh. And so will I
 
 
   Dut. Peace children peace, the King doth loue you wel.
Incapeable, and shallow Innocents,
You cannot guesse who caus'd your Fathers death
 
 
   Boy. Grandam we can: for my good Vnkle Gloster
Told me, the King prouok'd to it by the Queene,
Deuis'd impeachments to imprison him;
And when my Vnckle told me so, he wept,
And pittied me, and kindly kist my cheeke:
Bad me rely on him, as on my Father,
And he would loue me deerely as a childe
 
 
   Dut. Ah! that Deceit should steale such gentle shape,
And with a vertuous Vizor hide deepe vice.
He is my sonne, I, and therein my shame,
Yet from my dugges, he drew not this deceit
 
 
   Boy. Thinke you my Vnkle did dissemble Grandam?
  Dut. I Boy
 
 
   Boy. I cannot thinke it. Hearke, what noise is this?
 

Enter the Queene with her haire about her ears, Riuers & Dorset after her.

 
  Qu. Ah! who shall hinder me to waile and weepe?
To chide my Fortune, and torment my Selfe.
Ile ioyne with blacke dispaire against my Soule,
And to my selfe, become an enemie
 
 
   Dut. What meanes this Scene of rude impatience?
  Qu. To make an act of Tragicke violence.
Edward my Lord, thy Sonne, our King is dead.
Why grow the Branches, when the Roote is gone?
Why wither not the leaues that want their sap?
If you will liue, Lament: if dye, be breefe,
That our swift-winged Soules may catch the Kings,
Or like obedient Subiects follow him,
To his new Kingdome of nere-changing night
 
 
   Dut. Ah so much interest haue in thy sorrow,
As I had Title in thy Noble Husband:
I haue bewept a worthy Husbands death,
And liu'd with looking on his Images:
But now two Mirrors of his Princely semblance,
Are crack'd in pieces, by malignant death,
And I for comfort, haue but one false Glasse,
That greeues me, when I see my shame in him.
Thou art a Widdow: yet thou art a Mother,
And hast the comfort of thy Children left,
But death hath snatch'd my Husband from mine Armes,
And pluckt two Crutches from my feeble hands,
Clarence, and Edward. O, what cause haue I,
(Thine being but a moity of my moane)
To ouer-go thy woes, and drowne thy cries
 
 
   Boy. Ah Aunt! you wept not for our Fathers death:
How can we ayde you with our Kindred teares?
  Daugh. Our fatherlesse distresse was left vnmoan'd,
Your widdow-dolour, likewise be vnwept
 
 
   Qu. Giue me no helpe in Lamentation,
I am not barren to bring forth complaints:
All Springs reduce their currents to mine eyes,
That I being gouern'd by the waterie Moone,
May send forth plenteous teares to drowne the World.
Ah, for my Husband, for my deere Lord Edward
 
 
Chil. Ah for our Father, for our deere Lord Clarence
Dut. Alas for both, both mine Edward and Clarence
 
 
   Qu. What stay had I but Edward, and hee's gone?
  Chil. What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone
 
 
Dut. What stayes had I, but they? and they are gone
 
 
Qu. Was neuer widdow had so deere a losse
 
 
Chil. Were neuer Orphans had so deere a losse
 
 
   Dut. Was neuer Mother had so deere a losse.
Alas! I am the Mother of these Greefes,
Their woes are parcell'd, mine is generall.
She for an Edward weepes, and so do I:
I for a Clarence weepes, so doth not shee:
These Babes for Clarence weepe, so do not they.
Alas! you three, on me threefold distrest:
Power all your teares, I am your sorrowes Nurse,
And I will pamper it with Lamentation
 
 
   Dor. Comfort deere Mother, God is much displeas'd,
That you take with vnthankfulnesse his doing.
In common worldly things, 'tis call'd vngratefull,
With dull vnwillingnesse to repay a debt,
Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent:
Much more to be thus opposite with heauen,
For it requires the Royall debt it lent you
 
 
   Riuers. Madam, bethinke you like a carefull Mother
Of the young Prince your sonne: send straight for him,
Let him be Crown'd, in him your comfort liues.
Drowne desperate sorrow in dead Edwards graue,
And plant your ioyes in liuing Edwards Throne.
 

Enter Richard, Buckingham, Derbie, Hastings, and Ratcliffe.

 
  Rich. Sister haue comfort, all of vs haue cause
To waile the dimming of our shining Starre:
But none can helpe our harmes by wayling them.
Madam, my Mother, I do cry you mercie,
I did not see your Grace. Humbly on my knee,
I craue your Blessing
 
 
   Dut. God blesse thee, and put meeknes in thy breast,
Loue Charity, Obedience, and true Dutie
 
 
   Rich. Amen, and make me die a good old man,
That is the butt-end of a Mothers blessing;
I maruell that her Grace did leaue it out
 
 
   Buc. You clowdy-Princes, & hart-sorowing-Peeres,
That beare this heauie mutuall loade of Moane,
Now cheere each other, in each others Loue:
Though we haue spent our Haruest of this King,
We are to reape the Haruest of his Sonne.
The broken rancour of your high-swolne hates,
But lately splinter'd, knit, and ioyn'd together,
Must gently be preseru'd, cherisht, and kept:
Me seemeth good, that with some little Traine,
Forthwith from Ludlow, the young Prince be set
Hither to London, to be crown'd our King
 
 
   Riuers. Why with some little Traine,
My Lord of Buckingham?
  Buc. Marrie my Lord, least by a multitude,
The new-heal'd wound of Malice should breake out,
Which would be so much the more dangerous,
By how much the estate is greene, and yet vngouern'd.
Where euery Horse beares his commanding Reine,
And may direct his course as please himselfe,
As well the feare of harme, as harme apparant,
In my opinion, ought to be preuented
 
 
   Rich. I hope the King made peace with all of vs,
And the compact is firme, and true in me
 
 
   Riu. And so in me, and so (I thinke) in all.
Yet since it is but greene, it should be put
To no apparant likely-hood of breach,
Which haply by much company might be vrg'd:
Therefore I say with Noble Buckingham,
That it is meete so few should fetch the Prince
 
 
Hast. And so say I
 
 
   Rich. Then be it so, and go we to determine
Who they shall be that strait shall poste to London.
Madam, and you my Sister, will you go
To giue your censures in this businesse.
 

Exeunt.

 
Manet Buckingham, and Richard.
 
 
  Buc. My Lord, who euer iournies to the Prince,
For God sake let not vs two stay at home:
For by the way, Ile sort occasion,
As Index to the story we late talk'd of,
To part the Queenes proud Kindred from the Prince
 
 
   Rich. My other selfe, my Counsailes Consistory,
My Oracle, My Prophet, my deere Cosin,
I, as a childe, will go by thy direction,
Toward London then, for wee'l not stay behinde.
 

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia

Enter one Citizen at one doore, and another at the other.

 
  1.Cit. Good morrow Neighbour, whether away so
fast?
  2.Cit. I promise you, I scarsely know my selfe:
Heare you the newes abroad?
  1. Yes, that the King is dead
 

2. Ill newes byrlady, seldome comes the better: I feare, I feare, 'twill proue a giddy world. Enter another Citizen.

 
3. Neighbours, God speed
 
 
1. Giue you good morrow sir
 

3. Doth the newes hold of good king Edwards death? 2. I sir, it is too true, God helpe the while

 
3. Then Masters looke to see a troublous world
 
 
1. No, no, by Gods good grace, his Son shall reigne
 
 
3. Woe to that Land that's gouern'd by a Childe
 
 
   2. In him there is a hope of Gouernment,
Which in his nonage, counsell vnder him,
And in his full and ripened yeares, himselfe
No doubt shall then, and till then gouerne well
 
 
   1. So stood the State, when Henry the sixt
Was crown'd in Paris, but at nine months old
 
 
   3. Stood the State so? No, no, good friends, God wot
For then this Land was famously enrich'd
With politike graue Counsell; then the King
Had vertuous Vnkles to protect his Grace
 
 
1. Why so hath this, both by his Father and Mother
 
 
   3. Better it were they all came by his Father:
Or by his Father there were none at all:
For emulation, who shall now be neerest,
Will touch vs all too neere, if God preuent not.
O full of danger is the Duke of Glouster,
And the Queenes Sons, and Brothers, haught and proud:
And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule,
This sickly Land, might solace as before
 
 
1. Come, come, we feare the worst: all will be well
 
 
   3. When Clouds are seen, wisemen put on their clokes;
When great leaues fall, then Winter is at hand;
When the Sun sets, who doth not looke for night?
Vntimely stormes, makes men expect a Dearth:
All may be well; but if God sort it so,
'Tis more then we deserue, or I expect
 

2. Truly, the hearts of men are full of feare: You cannot reason (almost) with a man, That lookes not heauily, and full of dread

3. Before the dayes of Change, still is it so, By a diuine instinct, mens mindes mistrust Pursuing danger: as by proofe we see The Water swell before a boyst'rous storme: But leaue it all to God. Whither away? 2 Marry we were sent for to the Iustices

 
3 And so was I: Ile beare you company.
 

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta

Enter Arch-bishop, yong Yorke, the Queene, and the Dutchesse.

 
  Arch. Last night I heard they lay at Stony Stratford,
And at Northampton they do rest to night:
To morrow, or next day, they will be heere
 
 
   Dut. I long with all my heart to see the Prince:
I hope he is much growne since last I saw him
 
 
   Qu. But I heare no, they say my sonne of Yorke
Ha's almost ouertane him in his growth
 
 
Yorke. I Mother, but I would not haue it so
 
 
Dut. Why my good Cosin, it is good to grow
 
 
   Yor. Grandam, one night as we did sit at Supper,
My Vnkle Riuers talk'd how I did grow
More then my Brother. I, quoth my Vnkle Glouster,
Small Herbes haue grace, great Weeds do grow apace.
And since, me thinkes I would not grow so fast,
Because sweet Flowres are slow, and Weeds make hast
 
 
   Dut. Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold
In him that did obiect the same to thee.
He was the wretched'st thing when he was yong,
So long a growing, and so leysurely,
That if his rule were true, he should be gracious
 
 
Yor. And so no doubt he is, my gracious Madam
 
 
Dut. I hope he is, but yet let Mothers doubt
 
 
   Yor. Now by my troth, if I had beene remembred,
I could haue giuen my Vnkles Grace, a flout,
To touch his growth, neerer then he toucht mine
 
 
   Dut. How my yong Yorke,
I prythee let me heare it
 
 
   Yor. Marry (they say) my Vnkle grew so fast,
That he could gnaw a crust at two houres old,
'Twas full two yeares ere I could get a tooth.
Grandam, this would haue beene a byting Iest
 
 
   Dut. I prythee pretty Yorke, who told thee this?
  Yor. Grandam, his Nursse
 
 
Dut. His Nurse? why she was dead, ere y wast borne
 
 
Yor. If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me
 
 
Qu. A parlous Boy: go too, you are too shrew'd
 
 
Dut. Good Madam, be not angry with the Childe
 
 
   Qu. Pitchers haue eares.
 

Enter a Messenger.

 
  Arch. Heere comes a Messenger: What Newes?
  Mes. Such newes my Lord, as greeues me to report
 
 
   Qu. How doth the Prince?
  Mes. Well Madam, and in health
 
 
   Dut. What is thy Newes?
  Mess. Lord Riuers, and Lord Grey,
Are sent to Pomfret, and with them,
Sir Thomas Vaughan, Prisoners
 
 
   Dut. Who hath committed them?
  Mes. The mighty Dukes, Glouster and Buckingham
 
 
   Arch. For what offence?
  Mes. The summe of all I can, I haue disclos'd:
Why, or for what, the Nobles were committed,
Is all vnknowne to me, my gracious Lord
 
 
   Qu. Aye me! I see the ruine of my House:
The Tyger now hath seiz'd the gentle Hinde,
Insulting Tiranny beginnes to Iutt
Vpon the innocent and awelesse Throne:
Welcome Destruction, Blood, and Massacre,
I see (as in a Map) the end of all
 
 
   Dut. Accursed, and vnquiet wrangling dayes,
How many of you haue mine eyes beheld?
My Husband lost his life, to get the Crowne,
And often vp and downe my sonnes were tost
For me to ioy, and weepe, their gaine and losse.
And being seated, and Domesticke broyles
Cleane ouer-blowne, themselues the Conquerors,
Make warre vpon themselues, Brother to Brother;
Blood to blood, selfe against selfe: O prepostorous
And franticke outrage, end thy damned spleene,
Or let me dye, to looke on earth no more
 
 
   Qu. Come, come my Boy, we will to Sanctuary.
Madam, farwell
 
 
Dut. Stay, I will go with you
 
 
Qu. You haue no cause
 
 
   Arch. My gracious Lady go,
And thether beare your Treasure and your Goodes,
For my part, Ile resigne vnto your Grace
The Seale I keepe, and so betide to me,
As well I tender you, and all of yours.
Go, Ile conduct you to the Sanctuary.
 

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius. Scoena Prima

The Trumpets sound.

Enter yong Prince, the Dukes of Glocester, and Buckingham, Lord Cardinall, with others.

 
  Buc. Welcome sweete Prince to London,
To your Chamber
 
 
   Rich. Welcome deere Cosin, my thoughts Soueraign
The wearie way hath made you Melancholly
 
 
   Prin. No Vnkle, but our crosses on the way,
Haue made it tedious, wearisome, and heauie.
I want more Vnkles heere to welcome me
 
 
   Rich. Sweet Prince, the vntainted vertue of your yeers
Hath not yet diu'd into the Worlds deceit:
No more can you distinguish of a man,
Then of his outward shew, which God he knowes,
Seldome or neuer iumpeth with the heart.
Those Vnkles which you want, were dangerous:
Your Grace attended to their Sugred words,
But look'd not on the poyson of their hearts:
God keepe you from them, and from such false Friends
 
 
   Prin. God keepe me from false Friends,
But they were none
 
 
   Rich. My Lord, the Maior of London comes to greet
you.
 

Enter Lord Maior.

 
  Lo.Maior. God blesse your Grace, with health and
happie dayes
 
 
   Prin. I thanke you, good my Lord, and thank you all:
I thought my Mother, and my Brother Yorke,
Would long, ere this, haue met vs on the way.
Fie, what a Slug is Hastings, that he comes not
To tell vs, whether they will come, or no.
 

Enter Lord Hastings.

 
  Buck. And in good time, heere comes the sweating
Lord
 
 
   Prince. Welcome, my Lord: what, will our Mother
come?
  Hast. On what occasion God he knowes, not I;
The Queene your Mother, and your Brother Yorke,
Haue taken Sanctuarie: The tender Prince
Would faine haue come with me, to meet your Grace,
But by his Mother was perforce with-held
 
 
   Buck. Fie, what an indirect and peeuish course
Is this of hers? Lord Cardinall, will your Grace
Perswade the Queene, to send the Duke of Yorke
Vnto his Princely Brother presently?
If she denie, Lord Hastings goe with him,
And from her iealous Armes pluck him perforce
 
 
   Card. My Lord of Buckingham, if my weake Oratorie
Can from his Mother winne the Duke of Yorke,
Anon expect him here: but if she be obdurate
To milde entreaties, God forbid
We should infringe the holy Priuiledge
Of blessed Sanctuarie: not for all this Land,
Would I be guiltie of so great a sinne
 
 
   Buck. You are too sencelesse obstinate, my Lord,
Too ceremonious, and traditionall.
Weigh it but with the grossenesse of this Age,
You breake not Sanctuarie, in seizing him:
The benefit thereof is alwayes granted
To those, whose dealings haue deseru'd the place,
And those who haue the wit to clayme the place:
This Prince hath neyther claym'd it, nor deseru'd it,
And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot haue it.
Then taking him from thence, that is not there,
You breake no Priuiledge, nor Charter there:
Oft haue I heard of Sanctuarie men,
But Sanctuarie children, ne're till now
 
 
   Card. My Lord, you shall o're-rule my mind for once.
Come on, Lord Hastings, will you goe with me?
  Hast. I goe, my Lord.
 

Exit Cardinall and Hastings.

 
  Prince. Good Lords, make all the speedie hast you may.
Say, Vnckle Glocester, if our Brother come,
Where shall we soiourne, till our Coronation?
  Glo. Where it think'st best vnto your Royall selfe.
If I may counsaile you, some day or two
Your Highnesse shall repose you at the Tower:
Then where you please, and shall be thought most fit
For your best health, and recreation
 
 
   Prince. I doe not like the Tower, of any place:
Did Iulius Cćsar build that place, my Lord?
  Buck. He did, my gracious Lord, begin that place,
Which since, succeeding Ages haue re-edify'd
 
 
   Prince. Is it vpon record? or else reported
Successiuely from age to age, he built it?
  Buck. Vpon record, my gracious Lord
 
 
   Prince. But say, my Lord, it were not registred,
Me thinkes the truth should liue from age to age,
As 'twere retayl'd to all posteritie,
Euen to the generall ending day
 
 
Glo. So wise, so young, they say doe neuer liue long
 
 
   Prince. What say you, Vnckle?
  Glo. I say, without Characters, Fame liues long.
Thus, like the formall Vice, Iniquitie,
I morallize two meanings in one word
 
 
   Prince. That Iulius Cćsar was a famous man,
With what his Valour did enrich his Wit,
His Wit set downe, to make his Valour liue:
Death makes no Conquest of his Conqueror,
For now he liues in Fame, though not in Life.
Ile tell you what, my Cousin Buckingham
 
 
   Buck. What, my gracious Lord?
  Prince. And if I liue vntill I be a man,
Ile win our ancient Right in France againe,
Or dye a Souldier, as I liu'd a King
 
 
   Glo. Short Summers lightly haue a forward Spring.
 

Enter young Yorke, Hastings, and Cardinall.

 
  Buck. Now in good time, heere comes the Duke of
Yorke
 
 
   Prince. Richard of Yorke, how fares our Noble Brother?
  Yorke. Well, my deare Lord, so must I call you now
 
 
   Prince. I, Brother, to our griefe, as it is yours:
Too late he dy'd, that might haue kept that Title,
Which by his death hath lost much Maiestie
 
 
   Glo. How fares our Cousin, Noble Lord of Yorke?
  Yorke. I thanke you, gentle Vnckle. O my Lord,
You said, that idle Weeds are fast in growth:
The Prince, my Brother, hath out-growne me farre
 
 
Glo. He hath, my Lord
 
 
   Yorke. And therefore is he idle?
  Glo. Oh my faire Cousin, I must not say so
 
 
Yorke. Then he is more beholding to you, then I
 
 
   Glo. He may command me as my Soueraigne,
But you haue power in me, as in a Kinsman
 
 
Yorke. I pray you, Vnckle, giue me this Dagger
 
 
Glo. My Dagger, little Cousin? with all my heart
 
 
   Prince. A Begger, Brother?
  Yorke. Of my kind Vnckle, that I know will giue,
And being but a Toy, which is no griefe to giue
 
 
Glo. A greater gift then that, Ile giue my Cousin
 
 
Yorke. A greater gift? O, that's the Sword to it
 
 
Glo. I, gentle Cousin, were it light enough
 
 
   Yorke. O then I see, you will part but with light gifts,
In weightier things you'le say a Begger nay
 
 
Glo. It is too weightie for your Grace to weare
 
 
Yorke. I weigh it lightly, were it heauier
 
 
   Glo. What, would you haue my Weapon, little Lord?
  Yorke. I would that I might thanke you, as, as, you
call me
 
 
   Glo. How?
  Yorke. Little
 
 
   Prince. My Lord of Yorke will still be crosse in talke:
Vnckle, your Grace knowes how to beare with him
 
 
   Yorke. You meane to beare me, not to beare with me:
Vnckle, my Brother mockes both you and me,
Because that I am little, like an Ape,
He thinkes that you should beare me on your shoulders
 
 
   Buck. With what a sharpe prouided wit he reasons:
To mittigate the scorne he giues his Vnckle,
He prettily and aptly taunts himselfe:
So cunning, and so young, is wonderfull
 
 
   Glo. My Lord, wilt please you passe along?
My selfe, and my good Cousin Buckingham,
Will to your Mother, to entreat of her
To meet you at the Tower, and welcome you
 
 
   Yorke. what, will you goe vnto the Tower, my Lord?
  Prince. My Lord Protector will haue it so
 
 
Yorke. I shall not sleepe in quiet at the Tower
 
 
   Glo. Why, what should you feare?
  Yorke. Marry, my Vnckle Clarence angry Ghost:
My Grandam told me he was murther'd there
 
 
Prince. I feare no Vnckles dead
 
 
Glo. Nor none that liue, I hope
 
 
   Prince. And if they liue, I hope I need not feare.
But come my Lord: and with a heauie heart,
Thinking on them, goe I vnto the Tower.
 

A Senet. Exeunt Prince, Yorke, Hastings, and Dorset.

 
Manet Richard, Buckingham, and Catesby.
 
 
  Buck. Thinke you, my Lord, this little prating Yorke
Was not incensed by his subtile Mother,
To taunt and scorne you thus opprobriously?
  Glo. No doubt, no doubt: Oh 'tis a perillous Boy,
Bold, quicke, ingenious, forward, capable:
Hee is all the Mothers, from the top to toe
 
 
   Buck. Well, let them rest: Come hither Catesby,
Thou art sworne as deepely to effect what we intend,
As closely to conceale what we impart:
Thou know'st our reasons vrg'd vpon the way.
What think'st thou? is it not an easie matter,
To make William Lord Hastings of our minde,
For the installment of this Noble Duke
In the Seat Royall of this famous Ile?
  Cates. He for his fathers sake so loues the Prince,
That he will not be wonne to ought against him
 
 
   Buck. What think'st thou then of Stanley? Will
not hee?
  Cates. Hee will doe all in all as Hastings doth
 
 
   Buck. Well then, no more but this:
Goe gentle Catesby, and as it were farre off,
Sound thou Lord Hastings,
How he doth stand affected to our purpose,
And summon him to morrow to the Tower,
To sit about the Coronation.
If thou do'st finde him tractable to vs,
Encourage him, and tell him all our reasons:
If he be leaden, ycie, cold, vnwilling,
Be thou so too, and so breake off the talke,
And giue vs notice of his inclination:
For we to morrow hold diuided Councels,
Wherein thy selfe shalt highly be employ'd
 
 
   Rich. Commend me to Lord William: tell him Catesby,
His ancient Knot of dangerous Aduersaries
To morrow are let blood at Pomfret Castle,
And bid my Lord, for ioy of this good newes,
Giue Mistresse Shore one gentle Kisse the more
 
 
Buck. Good Catesby, goe effect this businesse soundly
 
 
Cates. My good Lords both, with all the heed I can
 
 
   Rich. Shall we heare from you, Catesby, ere we sleepe?
  Cates. You shall, my Lord
 
 
Rich. At Crosby House, there shall you find vs both.
 

Exit Catesby.

 
  Buck. Now, my Lord,
What shall wee doe, if wee perceiue
Lord Hastings will not yeeld to our Complots?
  Rich. Chop off his Head:
Something wee will determine:
And looke when I am King, clayme thou of me
The Earledome of Hereford, and all the moueables
Whereof the King, my Brother, was possest
 
 
Buck. Ile clayme that promise at your Graces hand
 
 
   Rich. And looke to haue it yeelded with all kindnesse.
Come, let vs suppe betimes, that afterwards
Wee may digest our complots in some forme.
 

Exeunt.