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twg_000000025400 | 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 showed me the castle And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025401 | called it Rougemount, 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, whats oclock? BUCKINGHAM. I am thus bold to put your Grace in mind Of what you promised me. KING RICHARD. Well, but whats oclock? BUCKINGHAM. Upon the stroke of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025402 | ten. KING RICHARD. Well, let it strike. BUCKINGHAM. Why let it strike? KING RICHARD. Because that, like a jack, thou keepst the stroke Betwixt thy begging and my meditation. I am not in the giving vein today. BUCKINGHAM. Why then, resolve me whether you will or no. KING RICHARD. Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. [_Exit followed | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025403 | by all save 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 III. London. Another Room in the Palace Enter Tyrrel. TYRREL. The tyrannous and bloody act is done, The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025404 | 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 fleshed 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, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025405 | quoth Forrest, girdling one another Within their alabaster innocent arms. Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, And in their summer beauty kissed each other. A book of prayers on their pillow lay, Which once, quoth Forrest, almost changed my mind. But, O, the devil There the villain stopped; When Dighton thus told on: We smothered The most | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025406 | replenished sweet work of nature That from the prime creation eer 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025407 | 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. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025408 | 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 matched | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025409 | in marriage; The sons of Edward sleep in Abrahams bosom, And Anne my wife hath bid the world good night. Now, for I know the Breton Richmond aims At young Elizabeth, my brothers daughter, And by that knot looks proudly on the crown, To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer. Enter Ratcliffe. RATCLIFFE. My lord! KING RICHARD. Good or | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025410 | bad news, that thou comst in so bluntly? RATCLIFFE. Bad news, my lord. Morton is fled to Richmond, And Buckingham, backed 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 learned that fearful commenting Is leaden servitor to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025411 | dull delay; Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary; Then fiery expedition be my wing, Joves 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 IV. London. Before the Palace Enter old Queen Margaret. QUEEN MARGARET. So now prosperity begins to mellow, And drop into | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025412 | the rotten mouth of death. Here in these confines slily have I lurked 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 Duchess of York and Queen Elizabeth. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025413 | poor Princes! Ah, my tender babes, My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets! If yet your gentle souls fly in the air And be not fixed in doom perpetual, Hover about me with your airy wings And hear your mothers lamentation. QUEEN MARGARET. [_Aside_.] Hover about her; say that right for right Hath dimmed your infant morn to aged night. DUCHESS. So | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025414 | many miseries have crazed my voice That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute. Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead? QUEEN MARGARET. [_Aside_.] 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025415 | a deed was done? QUEEN MARGARET. [_Aside_.] When holy Harry died, and my sweet son. DUCHESS. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal living ghost, Woes scene, worlds shame, graves due by life usurped, Brief abstract and record of tedious days, Rest thy unrest on Englands lawful earth, [_Sitting_.] Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, that thou wouldst | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025416 | as soon afford a grave As thou canst yield a melancholy seat, Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here. [_Sitting_.] Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but we? QUEEN MARGARET. [_Coming forward._] If ancient sorrow be most reverend, Give mine the benefit of seigniory, And let my griefs frown on the upper hand. If sorrow can | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025417 | admit society, [_Sitting down with them._] Tell oer your woes again by viewing mine. I had an Edward, till a Richard killed him; I had a husband, till a Richard killed him. Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard killed him; Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard killed him. DUCHESS. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025418 | him; I had a Rutland too; thou holpst to kill him. QUEEN MARGARET. Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard killed 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 excellent grand | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025419 | tyrant of the earth, That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls; That foul defacer of Gods handiwork 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 mothers body, And makes her pew-fellow with others moan! DUCHESS. O | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025420 | Harrys 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 killed my Edward; The other Edward dead, to quit my Edward; Young York, he is but boot, because both they | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025421 | Matched not the high perfection of my loss. Thy Clarence he is dead that stabbed my Edward; And the beholders of this frantic play, Th adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, Untimely smothered in their dusky graves. Richard yet lives, hells black intelligencer, Only reserved their factor to buy souls And send them thither. But at hand, at hand Ensues his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025422 | piteous and unpitied end. Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray, To have him suddenly conveyed from hence. Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, That I may live to 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025423 | spider, that foul bunch-backed toad! QUEEN MARGARET. I called thee then, vain flourish of my fortune; I called thee then, poor shadow, painted queen, The presentation of but what I was, The flattering index of a direful pageant; One heaved a-high to be hurled down below, A mother only mocked with two fair babes; A dream of what thou wast; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025424 | 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 are thy two sons? Wherein dost thou joy? Who sues, and kneels, and says, God save the Queen? Where be the bending | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025425 | peers that flattered thee? Where be the thronging troops that followed thee? Decline all 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 sued to, one that humbly sues; For Queen, a very caitiff crowned with care; For she that scorned at me, now | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025426 | scorned of me; For she being feared of all, now fearing one; For she commanding all, obeyed of none. Thus hath the course of justice wheeled 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025427 | dost thou not Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow? Now thy proud neck bears half my burdened yoke, From which even here I slip my weary head, And leave the burden of it all on thee. Farewell, Yorks wife, and Queen of sad mischance. These English woes shall make me smile in France. QUEEN ELIZABETH. O thou well skilled | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025428 | in curses, stay awhile, And teach me how to curse mine enemies. QUEEN MARGARET. Forbear to sleep the night, 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. Bettering thy loss makes the bad-causer worse. Revolving this will teach thee how | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025429 | to curse. QUEEN ELIZABETH. My words are dull. O, quicken them with thine! QUEEN MARGARET. Thy woes will make them sharp and pierce like mine. [_Exit._] DUCHESS. Why should calamity be full of words? QUEEN ELIZABETH. Windy attorneys to their clients woes, Airy succeeders of intestate joys, Poor breathing orators of miseries, Let them have scope, though what they do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025430 | impart Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart. DUCHESS. If so, then be not tongue-tied. Go with me, And in the breath of bitter words lets smother My damned son, that thy two sweet sons smothered. [_A trumpet sounds._] The trumpet sounds. Be copious in exclaims. Enter King Richard and his Train, including Catesby, marching. KING RICHARD. Who | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025431 | intercepts me in my expedition? DUCHESS. O, she that might have intercepted thee, By strangling thee in her accursed womb, From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Hidst thou that forehead with a golden crown Where should be branded, if that right were right, The slaughter of the Prince that owed that crown, And the dire | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025432 | death of my poor sons and brothers? Tell me, thou villain-slave, where are my children? DUCHESS. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother Clarence, And little Ned Plantagenet his son? QUEEN ELIZABETH. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Grey? DUCHESS. Where is kind Hastings? KING RICHARD. A flourish, trumpets! Strike alarum, drums! Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025433 | women Rail on the Lords anointed. Strike, I say! [_Flourish. Alarums._] Either be patient and entreat me fair, Or with the clamorous report of war Thus will I drown your exclamations. DUCHESS. Art thou my son? KING RICHARD. Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself. DUCHESS. Then patiently hear my impatience. KING RICHARD. Madam, I have a touch of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025434 | your condition, That cannot brook the accent of reproof. DUCHESS. O, let me speak! KING RICHARD. Do then, but Ill not hear. DUCHESS. I will be mild and gentle in my words. KING RICHARD. And brief, good mother, for I am in haste. DUCHESS. Art thou so hasty? I have stayed for thee, God knows, in torment and in agony. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025435 | KING RICHARD. And came I not at last to comfort you? DUCHESS. No, by the Holy Rood, thou knowst it well Thou camst on earth to make the earth my hell. A grievous burden was thy birth to me; Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; Thy school-days frightful, desprate, wild, and furious; Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025436 | Thy age confirmed, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred. What comfortable hour canst thou name That ever graced me with thy company? KING RICHARD. Faith, none but Humphrey Hower, that called your Grace To breakfast once, forth of my company. If I be so disgracious in your eye, Let me march on | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025437 | and not offend you, madam. Strike up the drum. DUCHESS. I prithee, hear me speak. KING RICHARD. You speak too bitterly. DUCHESS. Hear me a word, For I shall never speak to thee again. KING RICHARD. So. DUCHESS. Either thou wilt die by Gods just ordinance Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror, Or I with grief and extreme | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025438 | age shall perish And never more behold thy face again. Therefore take with thee my most grievous curse, Which in the day of battle tire thee more Than all the complete armour that thou wearst. My prayers on the adverse party fight; And there the little souls of Edwards children Whisper the spirits of thine enemies And promise them success | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025439 | and victory. Bloody thou art; bloody will be thy end. Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend. [_Exit._] QUEEN ELIZABETH. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse Abides in me, I say amen to her. KING RICHARD. Stay, madam, I must talk a word with you. QUEEN ELIZABETH. I have no more sons of the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025440 | royal blood For thee to slaughter. For my daughters, Richard, They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens, And therefore level not to hit their lives. KING RICHARD. You have a daughter called Elizabeth, Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious. QUEEN ELIZABETH. And must she die for this? O, let her live, And Ill corrupt her manners, stain her beauty, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025441 | Slander myself as false to Edwards bed, Throw over her the veil of infamy. So she may live unscarred of bleeding slaughter, I will confess she was not Edwards daughter. KING RICHARD. Wrong not her birth; she is a royal princess. QUEEN ELIZABETH. To save her life Ill say she is not so. KING RICHARD. Her life is safest only | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025442 | in her birth. QUEEN ELIZABETH. And only in that safety died her brothers. KING RICHARD. Lo, at their births good stars were opposite. QUEEN ELIZABETH. No, to their lives ill friends were contrary. KING RICHARD. All unavoided is the doom of destiny. QUEEN ELIZABETH. True, when avoided grace makes destiny. My babes were destined to a fairer death, If grace | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025443 | had blessed thee with a fairer life. KING RICHARD. You speak as if that I had slain my cousins. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Cousins, indeed, and by their uncle cozened Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. Whose hand soever lanced their tender hearts, Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction. No doubt the murdrous knife was dull and blunt Till it was whetted | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025444 | on thy stone-hard heart, To revel in the entrails of my lambs. But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame, My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys Till that my nails were anchored in thine eyes, And I, in such a desprate bay of death, Like a poor bark of sails and tackling reft, Rush | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025445 | all to pieces on thy rocky bosom. KING RICHARD. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise And dangerous success of bloody wars, As I intend more good to you and yours Than ever you or yours by me were harmed! QUEEN ELIZABETH. What good is covered with the face of heaven, To be discovered, that can do me good? KING | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025446 | RICHARD. Th advancement of your children, gentle lady. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads. KING RICHARD. Unto the dignity and height of fortune, The high imperial type of this earths glory. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Flatter my sorrows with report of it. Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour, Canst thou demise to any child of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025447 | mine? KING RICHARD. Even all I haveay, and myself and all Will I withal endow a child of thine; So in the Lethe of thy angry soul Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs Which thou supposest I have done to thee. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Be brief, lest that the process of thy kindness Last longer telling than thy kindness | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025448 | date. KING RICHARD. Then know, that from my soul I love thy daughter. QUEEN ELIZABETH. My daughters mother thinks it with her soul. KING RICHARD. What do you think? QUEEN ELIZABETH. That thou dost love my daughter from thy soul. So from thy souls love didst thou love her brothers, And from my hearts love I do thank thee for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025449 | it. KING RICHARD. Be not so hasty to confound my meaning. I mean that with my soul I love thy daughter, And do intend to make her Queen of England. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Well, then, who dost thou mean shall be her king? KING RICHARD. Even he that makes her Queen. Who else should be? QUEEN ELIZABETH. What, thou? KING RICHARD. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025450 | Even so. How think you of it? QUEEN ELIZABETH. How canst thou woo her? KING RICHARD. That would I learn of you, As one being best acquainted with her humour. QUEEN ELIZABETH. And wilt thou learn of me? KING RICHARD. Madam, with all my heart. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Send to her, by the man that slew her brothers, A pair of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025451 | bleeding hearts; thereon engrave Edward and York. Then haply will she weep. Therefore present to heras sometimes Margaret Did to thy father, steeped in Rutlands blood A handkerchief, which, say to her, did drain The purple sap from her sweet brothers body, And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal. If this inducement move her not to love, Send her | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025452 | a letter of thy noble deeds; Tell her thou madst away her uncle Clarence, Her uncle Rivers, ay, and for her sake Madst quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne. KING RICHARD. You mock me, madam; this is not the way To win your daughter. QUEEN ELIZABETH. There is no other way, Unless thou couldst put on some other shape, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025453 | And not be Richard, that hath done all this. KING RICHARD. Say that I did all this for love of her? QUEEN ELIZABETH. Nay, then indeed she cannot choose but hate thee, Having bought love with such a bloody spoil. KING RICHARD. Look what is done cannot be now amended. Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, Which after-hours gives leisure to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025454 | repent. If I did take the kingdom from your sons, To make amends Ill give it to your daughter. If I have killed the issue of your womb, To quicken your increase I will beget Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter. A grandams name is little less in love Than is the doting title of a mother; They | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025455 | are as children but one step below, Even of your mettle, of your very blood; Of all one pain, save for a night of groans Endured of her, for whom you bid like sorrow. Your children were vexation to your youth, But mine shall be a comfort to your age. The loss you have is but a son being King, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025456 | And by that loss your daughter is made Queen. I cannot make you what amends I would; Therefore accept such kindness as I can. Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul Leads discontented steps in foreign soil, This fair alliance quickly shall call home To high promotions and great dignity. The King, that calls your beauteous daughter wife, Familiarly | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025457 | shall call thy Dorset brother; Again shall you be mother to a king, And all the ruins of distressful times Repaired with double riches of content. What, we have many goodly days to see. The liquid drops of tears that you have shed Shall come again, transformed to orient pearl, Advantaging their loan with interest Of ten times double gain | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025458 | of happiness. Go then, my mother, to thy daughter go. Make bold her bashful years with your experience; Prepare her ears to hear a wooers tale; Put in her tender heart th aspiring flame Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the Princess With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys, And when this arm of mine hath chastised The petty rebel, dull-brained | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025459 | Buckingham, Bound with triumphant garlands will I come And lead thy daughter to a conquerors bed; To whom I will retail my conquest won, And she shall be sole victoress, Caesars Caesar. QUEEN ELIZABETH. What were I best to say? Her fathers brother Would be her lord? Or shall I say her uncle? Or he that slew her brothers and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025460 | her uncles? Under what title shall I woo for thee, That God, the law, my honour, and her love Can make seem pleasing to her tender years? KING RICHARD. Infer fair Englands peace by this alliance. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Which she shall purchase with still-lasting war. KING RICHARD. Tell her the King, that may command, entreats. QUEEN ELIZABETH. That at her | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025461 | hands, which the Kings King forbids. KING RICHARD. Say she shall be a high and mighty queen. QUEEN ELIZABETH. To vail the title, as her mother doth. KING RICHARD. Say I will love her everlastingly. QUEEN ELIZABETH. But how long shall that title ever last? KING RICHARD. Sweetly in force unto her fair lifes end. QUEEN ELIZABETH. But how long | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025462 | fairly shall her sweet life last? KING RICHARD. As long as heaven and nature lengthens it. QUEEN ELIZABETH. As long as hell and Richard likes of it. KING RICHARD. Say I, her sovereign, am her subject low. QUEEN ELIZABETH. But she, your subject, loathes such sovereignty. KING RICHARD. Be eloquent in my behalf to her. QUEEN ELIZABETH. An honest tale | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025463 | speeds best being plainly told. KING RICHARD. Then plainly to her tell my loving tale. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Plain and not honest is too harsh a style. KING RICHARD. Your reasons are too shallow and too quick. QUEEN ELIZABETH. O no, my reasons are too deep and dead Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. KING RICHARD. Harp not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025464 | on that string, madam; that is past. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Harp on it still shall I till heart-strings break. KING RICHARD. Now, by my George, my Garter, and my crown QUEEN ELIZABETH. Profaned, dishonoured, and the third usurped. KING RICHARD. I swear QUEEN ELIZABETH. By nothing, for this is no oath. Thy George, profaned, hath lost his lordly honour; Thy Garter, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025465 | blemished, pawned his knightly virtue; Thy crown, usurped, disgraced his kingly glory. If something thou wouldst swear to be believed, Swear then by something that thou hast not wronged. KING RICHARD. Now, by the world QUEEN ELIZABETH. Tis full of thy foul wrongs. KING RICHARD. My fathers death QUEEN ELIZABETH. Thy life hath that dishonoured. KING RICHARD. Then, by myself | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025466 | QUEEN ELIZABETH. Thyself is self-misused. KING RICHARD. Why, then, by God QUEEN ELIZABETH. Gods wrong is most of all. If thou didst fear to break an oath with Him, The unity the King my husband made Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers died. If thou hadst feared to break an oath by Him, Th imperial metal circling now thy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025467 | head Had graced the tender temples of my child, And both the Princes had been breathing here, Which now, two tender bedfellows for dust, Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms. What canst thou swear by now? KING RICHARD. The time to come. QUEEN ELIZABETH. That thou hast wronged in the time oerpast; For I myself have many | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025468 | tears to wash Hereafter time, for time past wronged by thee. The children live whose fathers thou hast slaughtered, Ungoverned youth, to wail it in their age; The parents live whose children thou hast butchered, Old barren plants, to wail it with their age. Swear not by time to come, for that thou hast Misused ere used, by times ill-used | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025469 | oerpast. KING RICHARD. As I intend to prosper and repent, So thrive I in my dangerous affairs Of hostile arms! Myself myself confound! Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours! Day, yield me not thy light, nor, night, thy rest! Be opposite all planets of good luck To my proceeding if with dear hearts love, Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts, I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025470 | tender not thy beauteous princely daughter. In her consists my happiness and thine; Without her follows to myself and thee, Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul, Death, desolation, ruin, and decay. It cannot be avoided but by this; It will not be avoided but by this. Therefore, dear motherI must call you so Be the attorney of my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025471 | love to her; Plead what I will be, not what I have been; Not my deserts, but what I will deserve. Urge the necessity and state of times, And be not peevish found in great designs. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus? KING RICHARD. Ay, if the devil tempt you to do good. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Shall | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025472 | I forget myself to be myself? KING RICHARD. Ay, if your selfs remembrance wrong yourself. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Yet thou didst kill my children. KING RICHARD. But in your daughters womb I bury them, Where, in that nest of spicery, they will breed Selves of themselves, to your recomforture. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? KING | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025473 | RICHARD. And be a happy mother by the deed. QUEEN ELIZABETH. I go. Write to me very shortly, And you shall understand from me her mind. KING RICHARD. Bear her my true loves kiss; and so, farewell. [_Kissing her. Exit Queen Elizabeth._] Relenting fool, and shallow, changing woman! Enter Ratcliffe. How now, what news? RATCLIFFE. Most mighty sovereign, on the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025474 | western coast Rideth a puissant navy; to our shores Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, Unarmed, and unresolved to beat them back. Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral; And there they hull, expecting but the aid Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore. KING RICHARD. Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Norfolk. Ratcliffe, thyself, or Catesby. Where is he? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025475 | CATESBY. Here, my good lord. KING RICHARD. Catesby, fly to the Duke. CATESBY. I will my lord, with all convenient haste. KING RICHARD. Ratcliffe, come hither. Post to Salisbury. When thou comst thither [_To Catesby._] Dull, unmindful villain, Why stayst thou here, and gost not to the Duke? CATESBY. First, mighty liege, tell me your Highness pleasure, What from your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025476 | Grace I shall deliver to him. KING RICHARD. O, true, good Catesby. Bid him levy straight The greatest strength and power that he can make, And meet me suddenly at Salisbury. CATESBY. I go. [_Exit._] RATCLIFFE. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury? KING RICHARD. Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go? RATCLIFFE. Your Highness | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025477 | told me I should post before. KING RICHARD. My mind is changed. Enter Stanley Earl of Derby. Stanley, what news with you? STANLEY. None good, my liege, to please you with the hearing; Nor none so bad but well may be reported. KING RICHARD. Hoyday, a riddle! Neither good nor bad. What needst thou run so many miles about When | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025478 | thou mayst tell thy tale the nearest way? Once more, what news? STANLEY. Richmond is on the seas. KING RICHARD. There let him sink, and be the seas on him! White-livered runagate, what doth he there? STANLEY. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess. KING RICHARD. Well, as you guess? STANLEY. Stirred up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton, He | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025479 | makes for England, here to claim the crown. KING RICHARD. Is the chair empty? Is the sword unswayed? Is the King dead? The empire unpossessed? What heir of York is there alive but we? And who is Englands King but great Yorks heir? Then tell me, what makes he upon the seas? STANLEY. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025480 | 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, my good lord; 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025481 | 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, Ill muster up my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025482 | 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 Ill 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025483 | behind Your son George Stanley. Look your heart be firm, Or else his heads 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, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025484 | With many more confederates, are in arms. Enter another 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 another Messenger. THIRD MESSENGER. My lord, the army of great Buckingham KING RICHARD. Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of death? [_He strikes | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025485 | 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, Buckinghams army is dispersed and scattered, And he himself wandered away alone, No man knows whither. KING RICHARD. I cry thee mercy. There is my purse to cure that blow of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025486 | thine. Hath any well-advised friend proclaimed Reward to him that brings the traitor in? THIRD MESSENGER. Such proclamation hath been made, my lord. Enter another Messenger. FOURTH MESSENGER. Sir Thomas Lovell and Lord Marquess Dorset, Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms. But this good comfort bring I to your Highness: The Breton navy is dispersed by tempest. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025487 | 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 answered him they came from Buckingham Upon his party. He, mistrusting them, Hoised sail, and made his course again for Brittany. KING RICHARD. March on, march on, since we are up in arms, If not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025488 | to fight with foreign enemies, Yet to beat down these rebels here at home. 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025489 | A royal battle might be won and lost. Someone take order Buckingham be brought To Salisbury; the rest march on with me. [_Flourish. Exeunt._] SCENE V. A Room in Lord Stanleys house Enter Stanley Earl of Derby and Sir Christopher Urswick. STANLEY. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me: That in the sty of the most deadly boar My son | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025490 | George Stanley is franked up in hold; If I revolt, off goes young Georges 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025491 | Harfordwest 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025492 | not fought withal. STANLEY. Well, hie thee to thy lord; I kiss his hand. My letter will resolve him of my mind. Farewell. [_Exeunt._] ACT V SCENE I. Salisbury. An open place Enter Sheriff and Halberds, with Buckingham, led to execution. BUCKINGHAM. Will not King Richard let me speak with him? SHERIFF. No, my good lord; therefore be patient. BUCKINGHAM. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025493 | Hastings, and Edwards 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. BUCKINGHAM. Why, then | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025494 | All-Souls day is my bodys doomsday. This is the day which, in King Edwards time, I wished might fall on me when I was found False to his children and his wifes allies. This is the day wherein I wished to fall By the false faith of him whom most I trusted. This, this All-Souls day to my fearful soul | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025495 | Is the determined respite of my wrongs. That high All-Seer which I dallied with Hath turned my feigned prayer on my head And given in earnest what I begged in jest. Thus doth He force the swords of wicked men To turn their own points in their masters bosoms. Thus Margarets curse falls heavy on my neck: When he, quoth | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025496 | 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. [_Exit with Officers._] SCENE II. Plain near Tamworth Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, Herbert, and others, with drum and colours. RICHMOND. Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends, Bruised | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025497 | underneath the yoke of tyranny, Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we marched on without impediment; And here receive we from our father Stanley Lines of fair comfort and encouragement. The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar, That spoiled your summer fields and fruitful vines, Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough In your embowelled | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025498 | bosomsthis foul swine Is now even in the centre of this isle, Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn. From Tamworth thither is but one days march. In Gods name, cheerly on, courageous friends, To reap the harvest of perpetual peace By this one bloody trial of sharp war. OXFORD. Every mans conscience is a thousand men, To | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025499 | fight against that guilty 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 Gods name, march. True hope is swift, and flies with swallows wings; Kings it makes gods, and | 60 | gutenberg |
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