He got much of his information from Bishop Morton of Ely, a bitter enemy of Richard. More’s account was incorporated in the major Tudor chronicles; Shakespeare probably read it via Edward Hall’s Union of the Noble and Illustre Famelies of Lancastre and York (1548). He may also have consulted Holinshed and one or more other chronicles. The historical poem sequence known as The Mirror for Magistrates (1559, expanded 1563) seems to have shaped Shakespeare’s treatment of the Clarence plot. The relationship to an anonymous drama The True Tragedie of Richard the Third (registered for publication June 1594, poorly printed) is unclear: it seems to have been an older play, belonging to the Queen’s Men, that was perhaps published to cash in on the success of Shakespeare’s version.
TEXT: Quarto edition, 1597, with title advertising the content of the play: The Tragedy of King Richard the third. Containing, His treacherous Plots against his brother Clarence: the pittiefull murther of his innocent nephewes: his tyrannicall vsurpation: with the whole course of his detested life, and most deserued death. As it hath beene lately Acted by the Right honorable the Lord Chamberlaine his seruants. Reprinted 1598, with Shakespeare’s name on the title page (one of the first printed plays to be so attributed), and again in 1602, 1605, 1612, 1622, 1629, 1634, indicating the play’s popularity. Each Quarto was reprinted from the last, with some errors and occasional editorial correction. The 1623 Folio text derives from an independent manuscript that differed substantially from the Quarto tradition, though the Sixth Quarto and to a lesser extent the Third Quarto were consulted in its preparation. There has been much scholarly debate over the sources and relationship of the two texts: their relationship and relative authority has been justifiably described as the most difficult textual problem in all Shakespeare. It appears that the Folio, though printed much later, reflects an earlier version of the play. The Folio text is about 200 lines longer than the Quarto, a difference more probably due to Quarto cutting and streamlining than Folio expansion. The Quarto has just under 40 lines that are not in Folio. There are hundreds of variants of wording. The Folio text is generally more coherent; some of the difficulties of the Quarto have been attributed to “memorial reconstruction” by actors, but current scholarship questions this view. Though Folio has many deficiencies, some imported from the Quarto tradition and others introduced by the compositors, it requires less editorial intervention to render it comprehensible and theatrically workable. It has been the copy text for most, though not all, scholarly editions, as it is for ours, in accordance with our Folio-based policy.
THE TRAGEDY OF
RICHARD THE THIRD:
With the Landing
of Earl Richmond
and the Battle at
Bosworth Field
LIST OF PARTS
RICHARD, Duke of Gloucester, later King RICHARD III
Duke of CLARENCE, his brother
Duke of BUCKINGHAM
Lord HASTINGS, the Lord Chamberlain
Sir William CATESBY
Sir Richard RATCLIFFE
Lord LOVELL
BRACKENBURY, Lord Lieutenant of the Tower
Lord Stanley, Earl of DERBY (sometimes addressed as Derby and sometimes as Stanley, here given speech prefix Derby)
KING EDWARD IV, Gloucester’s older brother
QUEEN ELIZABETH, his wife
PRINCE EDWARD, their older son
Duke of YORK, their younger son
Lord RIVERS, Elizabeth’s brother
Lord GREY, Elizabeth’s son by her first husband
Marquis of DORSET, his brother
Sir Thomas VAUGHAN
Lady ANNE, widow of Edward, Prince of Wales, later Duchess of Gloucester
QUEEN MARGARET, widow of Henry VI
DUCHESS OF YORK, mother to Gloucester, Clarence, Edward IV
Clarence’s children
BOY
DAUGHTER
Earl of RICHMOND, later King Henry VII
Earl of OXFORD
Sir JAMES BLUNT
Sir WALTER HERBERT
Sir WILLIAM BRANDON
Duke of NORFOLK
Earl of SURREY
CARDINAL, Archbishop of Canterbury
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
BISHOP OF ELY
SIR CHRISTOPHER, a priest
Sir John, a PRIEST
Lord MAYOR of London
Three CITIZENS
JAMES TYRRELL
Two MURDERERS
MESSENGERS
KEEPER
PURSUIVANT
PAGE
Ghost of KING HENRY VI
Ghost of EDWARD, his son
TWO BISHOPS, Soldiers, Halberdiers, Gentlemen, Lords, Citizens, Attendants
running scene 1
Enter Richard, Duke of Gloucester, solus
RICHARD Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York2:
And all the clouds that loured3 upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths,
Our bruisèd arms6 hung up for monuments,
Our stern alarums7 changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.8
Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front9,
And now, instead of mounting barbèd10 steeds
To fright the souls of fearful11 adversaries.
He capers nimbly in a lady’s chamber12
To the lascivious pleasing13 of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks14,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass15:
I, that am rudely stamped, and want16 love’s majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling17 nymph:
I, that am curtailed18 of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling19 nature,
Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time20
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up21,
And that so lamely and unfashionable22
That dogs bark at me as I halt23 by them —
Why, I, in this weak piping24 time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to see my shadow in the sun
And descant27 on mine own deformity.
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken29 days,
I am determinèd30 to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions32 dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence and the king
In deadly hate the one against the other.
And if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false37 and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mewed up38,
About a prophecy, which says that ‘G’39
Of Edward’s heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here Clarence comes.—
Enter Clarence, guarded, and Brackenbury
Brother, good day. What means this armèd guard
That waits upon43 your grace?
CLARENCE His majesty,
Tend’ring45 my person’s safety, hath appointed
This conduct to convey me to th’Tower.46
RICHARD Upon what cause?
CLARENCE Because my name is George.
RICHARD Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours.
He should, for that, commit your godfathers.50
O, belike51 his majesty hath some intent
That you should be new-christened52 in the Tower.
But what’s the matter53, Clarence, may I know?
CLARENCE Yea, Richard, when I know, but I protest54
As yet I do not. But, as I can learn.
He hearkens after56 prophecies and dreams,
And from the cross-row57 plucks the letter G,
And says a wizard told him that by ‘G’
His issue59 disinherited should be:
And, for60 my name of George begins with G,
It follows in his thought that I am he.
These, as I learn, and such like toys62 as these,
Hath moved his highness to commit me now.
RICHARD Why, this it is when men are ruled by women:
’Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower,
My lady Grey66 his wife, Clarence, ’tis she
That tempts him to this harsh extremity.
Was it not she and that good man of worship68,
Anthony Woodville69, her brother there,
That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower,
From whence this present day he is delivered?71
We are not safe, Clarence, we are not safe.
CLARENCE By heaven, I think there is no man secure
But the queen’s kindred and night-walking heralds74
That trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore.75
Heard you not what an humble suppliant76
Lord Hastings was to her, for his delivery?77
RICHARD Humbly complaining to her deity78
Got my Lord Chamberlain79 his liberty.
I’ll tell you what: I think it is our way,
If we will keep in favour with the king,
To be her men and wear her livery.82
The jealous o’erworn widow83 and herself,
Since that our brother dubbed them84 gentlewomen,
Are mighty gossips85 in our monarchy.
BRACKENBURY I beseech your graces both to pardon me:
His majesty hath straitly given in charge87
That no man shall have private conference,
Of what degree soever89, with your brother.
RICHARD Even so, an90 please your worship, Brackenbury,
You may partake of anything we say.
We speak no treason, man: we say the king
Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen
Well struck in years, fair94 and not jealous.
We say that Shore’s wife hath a pretty foot,
A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing96 pleasing tongue,
And that the queen’s kindred are made gentlefolks.
How say you sir? Can you deny all this?
BRACKENBURY With this, my lord, myself have nought to do.
RICHARD Naught to do with Mistress Shore? I tell thee, fellow,
He that doth naught101 with her, excepting one,
Were best to do it secretly, alone.
BRACKENBURY What one, my lord?
RICHARD Her husband, knave. Wouldst thou betray me?104
BRACKENBURY I do beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal105
Forbear106 your conference with the noble duke.
CLARENCE We know thy charge107, Brackenbury, and will obey.
RICHARD We are the queen’s abjects108, and must obey.—
Brother, farewell. I will unto the king,
And whatsoe’er you will employ me in,
Were it to call King Edward’s widow sister,
I will perform it to enfranchise112 you.
Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood
Touches114 me deeper than you can imagine.
Embraces him
CLARENCE I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
RICHARD Well, your imprisonment shall not be long.
I will deliver you or else lie for you.117
Meantime, have patience.
CLARENCE I must perforce.119 Farewell.
Exit Clarence [led by Brackenbury and Guards]
RICHARD Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne’er return.
Simple, plain Clarence, I do love thee so
That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven,
If heaven will take the present123 at our hands.
But who comes here? The new-delivered124 Hastings?
Enter Lord Hastings
HASTINGS Good time of day unto my gracious lord.
RICHARD As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain.
Well are you welcome to this open air.
How hath your lordship brooked128 imprisonment?
HASTINGS With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must.
But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks130
That were the cause of my imprisonment.
RICHARD No doubt, no doubt. And so shall Clarence too,
For they that were your enemies are his,
And have prevailed as much on him as you.
HASTINGS More pity that the eagles should be mewed135,
Whiles kites and buzzards136 play at liberty.
RICHARD What news abroad?137
HASTINGS No news so bad abroad as this at home:
The king is sickly, weak and melancholy,
And his physicians fear him140 mightily.
RICHARD Now, by Saint John, that news is bad indeed.
O, he hath kept an evil diet142 long,
And overmuch consumed his royal person.
’Tis very grievous to be thought upon.
Where is he, in his bed?
HASTINGS He is.
RICHARD Go you before, and I will follow you.
Exit Hastings
He cannot live, I hope, and must not die
Till George be packed with post-horse149 up to heaven.
I’ll in to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
With lies well steeled151 with weighty arguments.
And, if I fail not in my deep152 intent,
Clarence hath not another day to live:
Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,
And leave the world for me to bustle155 in.
For then I’ll marry Warwick’s youngest daughter.156
What though I killed her husband and her father?157
The readiest way to make the wench amends
Is to become her husband and her father:
The which will I, not all so much for love
As for another secret close161 intent,
By marrying her which I must reach unto.162
But yet I run before my horse to market163:
Clarence still breathes, Edward still lives and reigns.
When they are gone, then must I count my gains.
Exit
running scene 1 continues
Enter the corpse of Henry the Sixth with [Gentlemen bearing] halberds to guard it, Lady Anne being the mourner
ANNE Set down, set down your honourable load —
If honour may be shrouded in a hearse2 —
Whilst I awhile obsequiously3 lament
Th’untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.4
They set down the coffin
Poor key-cold5 figure of a holy king,
Pale ashes6 of the house of Lancaster,
Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood,
Be it lawful that I invocate8 thy ghost,
To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,
Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son,
Stabbed by the selfsame hand that made these wounds.
Lo, in these windows12 that let forth thy life,
I pour the helpless balm13 of my poor eyes.
O, cursèd be the hand that made these holes:
Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it:
Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence!
More direful hap betide17 that hated wretch
That makes us wretched by the death of thee
Than I can wish to wolves, to spiders, toads19,
Or any creeping venomed thing that lives.
If ever he have child, abortive21 be it,
Prodigious22, and untimely brought to light,
Whose ugly and unnatural aspect23
May fright the hopeful mother at the view,
And that be heir to his unhappiness.25
If ever he have wife, let her be made
More miserable by the death of him
Than I am made by my young lord and thee.—
Come, now towards Chertsey29 with your holy load,
Taken from Paul’s30 to be interrèd there.
They lift the coffin
And still as31 you are weary of this weight,
Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry’s corpse.
Enter Richard, Duke of Gloucester
RICHARD Stay, you that bear the corpse, and set it down.
ANNE What black magician conjures up this fiend,
To stop devoted35 charitable deeds?
RICHARD Villains, set down the corpse, or, by Saint Paul,
I’ll make a corpse of him that disobeys.
GENTLEMAN My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.
RICHARD Unmannered dog, stand’st thou when I command.
Advance40 thy halberd higher than my breast,
Or, by Saint Paul, I’ll strike thee to my foot,
And spurn upon42 thee, beggar, for thy boldness.
They set down the coffin
ANNE What, do you tremble? Are you all afraid?
Alas. I blame you not, for you are mortal,
And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.—
Avaunt46, thou dreadful minister of hell!
Thou hadst but power over his mortal body,
His soul thou canst not have: therefore be gone.
RICHARD Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.49
ANNE Foul devil, for God’s sake, hence50, and trouble us not,
For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,
Filled it with cursing cries and deep exclaims.52
If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,
Behold this pattern54 of thy butcheries.—
Uncovers the body
O, gentlemen, see, see dead Henry’s wounds
Open their congealed mouths and bleed afresh.—
Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity,
For’ tis thy presence that exhales58 this blood
From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells.
Thy deeds, inhuman and unnatural,
Provokes this deluge most unnatural.—
O God, which this blood mad’st, revenge his death!
O earth, which this blood drink’st, revenge his death!
Either heav’n with lightning strike the murd’rer dead,
Or earth gape open wide and eat him quick,
As thou dost swallow up this good king’s blood
Which his hell-governed arm hath butcherèd!
RICHARD Lady, you know no rules of charity,
Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
ANNE Villain, thou know’st nor law of God nor man:
No beast so71 fierce but knows some touch of pity.
RICHARD But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
ANNE O, wonderful, when devils tell the truth!73
RICHARD More wonderful, when angels are so angry.
Vouchsafe75, divine perfection of a woman,
Of these supposèd crimes to give me leave76,
By circumstance77 but to acquit myself.
ANNE Vouchsafe, defused78 infection of man,
Of these known evils, but to give me leave,
By circumstance to curse thy cursèd self.
RICHARD Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have
Some patient leisure82 to excuse myself.
ANNE Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make
No excuse current84, but to hang thyself,
RICHARD By such despair85, I should accuse myself.
ANNE And by despairing shalt thou stand excused
For doing worthy vengeance on thyself87,
That didst unworthy88 slaughter upon others.
RICHARD Say that I slew them not.
ANNE Then say they were not slain.
But dead they are, and devilish slave91, by thee.
RICHARD I did not kill your husband.
ANNE Why, then he is alive.
RICHARD Nay, he is dead, and slain by Edward’s hands.
ANNE In thy foul throat thou liest95: Queen Margaret saw
Thy murd’rous falchion96 smoking in his blood,
The which thou once97 didst bend against her breast,
But that thy brothers beat aside the point.
RICHARD I was provokèd by her sland’rous tongue,
That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.
ANNE Thou wast provokèd by thy bloody mind,
That never dream’st on aught102 but butcheries.
Didst thou not kill this king?
RICHARD I grant ye.
ANNE Dost grant me, hedgehog?105 Then, God grant me too
Thou mayst be damnèd for that wicked deed.
O, he was gentle, mild and virtuous!
RICHARD The better for the king of heaven that hath him.
ANNE He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come,
RICHARD Let him thank me, that holp110 to send him thither,
For he was fitter for that place than earth.
ANNE And thou unfit for any place but hell.
RICHARD Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.
ANNE Some dungeon.
RICHARD Your bedchamber.115
ANNE Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest.
RICHARD So will it, madam, till I lie with you.
ANNE I hope so.118
RICHARD I know so, But, gentle Lady Anne,
To leave this keen encounter of our wits120,
And fall something into a slower method:
Is not the causer of the timeless122 deaths
Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward,
As blameful as the executioner?
ANNE Thou wast the cause and most accursed effect.
RICHARD Your beauty was the cause of that effect.125
Your beauty, that did haunt me in my sleep
To undertake the death of all the world,
So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom.
ANNE If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide130,
These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.
RICHARD These eyes could never endure that beauty’s wreck.
You should not blemish it, if I stood by:
As all the world is cheerèd by the sun,
So I by that: it is my day, my life.
ANNE Black night o’ershade thy day, and death thy life.
RICHARD Curse not thyself, fair creature: thou art both.137
ANNE I would138 I were, to be revenged on thee.
RICHARD It is a quarrel most unnatural
To be revenged on him that loveth thee.
ANNE It is a quarrel just and reasonable
To be revenged on him that killed my husband.
RICHARD He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,
Did it to help thee to a better husband.
ANNE His better doth not breathe upon the earth.
RICHARD He lives146 that loves thee better than he could.
ANNE Name him.
RICHARD Plantagenet.148
ANNE Why, that was he.
RICHARD The selfsame name, but one of better nature.
ANNE Where is he?
RICHARD Here.
Spits at him
Why dost thou spit at me?
ANNE Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake.
RICHARD Never came poison from so sweet a place.
ANNE Never hung poison on a fouler toad.
Out of my sight, thou dost infect mine eyes.
RICHARD Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.157
ANNE Would they were basilisks158, to strike thee dead.
RICHARD I would they were, that I might die159 at once,
For now they kill me with a living death.
Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears,
Shamed their aspects162 with store of childish drops:
These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear —
No, when164 my father York and Edward wept,
To hear the piteous moan that Rutland165 made
When black-faced166 Clifford shook his sword at him,
Nor when thy warlike father167, like a child,
Told the sad story of my father’s death,
And twenty times made pause to sob and weep,
That170 all the standers-by had wet their cheeks
Like trees bedashed171 with rain: in that sad time,
My manly eyes did scorn an humble172 tear.
And what these sorrows could not thence exhale173,
Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
I never sued175 to friend nor enemy:
My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing176 word.
But now thy beauty is proposed my fee177,
My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak.
She looks scornfully at him
Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made
For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,
Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword,
Gives her his sword
Which if thou please to hide in this true breast.
↓Kneels↓
And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,
I lay it naked to the deadly stroke
And humbly beg the death upon my knee.
He lays his breast open: she offers at [it] with his sword
Nay, do not pause, for I did kill King Henry —
But ’twas thy beauty that provokèd me.
Nay, now dispatch: ’twas I that stabbed young Edward —
But ’twas thy heavenly face that set me on.190
She falls the sword
Take up the sword again, or take up me.191
ANNE Arise, dissembler.192 Though I wish thy death,
I will not be thy executioner.
RICHARD Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.
Takes his sword back
ANNE I have already.
RICHARD That was in thy rage:
Speak it again, and even with the word,
This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love,
Shall for thy love kill a far truer love.199
To both their deaths shalt thou be accessory.
ANNE I would I knew thy heart.
RICHARD ’Tis figured in202 my tongue.
ANNE I fear me both are false.
RICHARD Then never man was true.
ANNE Well, well, put up your sword.
RICHARD Say, then, my peace is made.
ANNE That shalt thou know hereafter.
RICHARD But shall I live in hope?
ANNE All men, I hope, live so.
RICHARD Vouchsafe to wear this ring.
Puts a ring on her
Look how my ring encompasseth thy finger.
Even so212 thy breast encloseth my poor heart:
Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
And if thy poor devoted servant may
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.
ANNE What is it?
RICHARD That it may please you leave these sad designs
To him that hath most cause to be a mourner,
And presently repair to Crosby House220,
Where after I have solemnly interred
At Chertsey monast’ry this noble king,
And wet his grave with my repentant tears —
I will with all expedient duty224 see you.
For divers unknown225 reasons, I beseech you,
Grant me this boon.226
ANNE With all my heart, and much it joys me too,
To see you are become so penitent.—
Tressell and Berkeley229, go along with me.
RICHARD Bid me farewell.
ANNE ’Tis more than you deserve,
But since you teach me how to flatter you,
Imagine I have said farewell already.
Exeunt two [Tressell and Berkeley] with Anne
GENTLEMEN Towards Chertsey, noble lord?
RICHARD No, to Whitefriars.235 There attend my coming.
Exit corpse [borne by the other gentlemen]
Was ever woman in this humour236 wooed?
Was ever woman in this humour won?
I’ll have her, but I will not keep her long.
What? I, that killed her husband and his father,
To take her in her heart’s extremest hate,
With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,
The bleeding witness of my hatred by242,
Having God, her conscience, and these bars243 against me,
And I no friends to back my suit withal244,
But the plain devil and dissembling looks?
And yet to win her, all the world to nothing?246
Ha!
Hath she forgot already that brave248 prince,
Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since,
Stabbed in my angry mood at Tewkesbury?250
A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,
Framed in the prodigality of nature252,
Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal253,
The spacious world cannot again afford.
And will she yet abase her eyes on me,
That cropped the golden prime256 of this sweet prince,
And made her widow to a woeful bed?
On me, whose all not equals Edward’s moiety?258
On me, that halts and am misshapen259 thus?
My dukedom to a beggarly denier!260
I do mistake my person all this while.
Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot,
Myself to be a marv’llous proper263 man.
I’ll be at charges for264 a looking-glass,
And entertain a score or two of265 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 in269 his grave,
And then return lamenting to my love.
Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass271,
That I may see my shadow272 as I pass.
Exit
running scene 2
Enter [Elizabeth] the Queen Mother, Lord Rivers and Lord Grey
RIVERS Have patience, madam. There’s no doubt his majesty
Will soon recover his accustomed health.
To Queen Elizabeth
GREY In that you brook it ill3, it makes him worse:
Therefore, for God’s sake, entertain good comfort4,
And cheer his grace with quick and merry eyes.
QUEEN ELIZABETH If he were dead, what would betide on6 me?
GREY No other harm but loss of such a lord.
QUEEN ELIZABETH The loss of such a lord includes8 all harms.
GREY The heavens have blessed you with a goodly9 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.
RIVERS Is it concluded he shall be Protector?14
QUEEN ELIZABETH It is determined, not concluded yet:
But so it must be, if the king miscarry.16
Enter Buckingham and [Stanley, Earl of] 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 my20 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, assured
I hate not you for her proud arrogance.
DERBY I do beseech you either not believe
The envious26 slanders of her false accusers,
Or, if she be accused on true report,
Bear with her weakness, which I think proceeds
From wayward29 sickness and no grounded malice.
QUEEN ELIZABETH Saw you the king today, 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?
BUCKINGHM Ay, madam. He desires to make atonement36
Between the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers37,
And between them and my Lord Chamberlain,
And sent to warn39 them to his royal presence.
QUEEN ELIZABETH Would all were well! But that will never be.
I fear our happiness41 is at the height.
Enter Richard [with Hastings and Dorset]
RICHARD They do me wrong, and I will not endure it.
Who is it that complains unto the king
That I, forsooth, am stern44 and love them not?
By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly45
That fill his ears with such dissentious46 rumours.
Because I cannot flatter and look fair47,
Smile in men’s faces, smooth, deceive and cog48,
Duck with French nods and apish49 courtesy,
I must be held a rancorous enemy.
Cannot a plain51 man live and think no harm,
But thus his simple truth must be abused
By silken, sly, insinuating jacks?53
GREY To who in all this presence54 speaks your grace?
RICHARD To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.55
When have I injured 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 scarce a breathing-while60,
But you must trouble him with lewd61 complaints.
QUEEN ELIZABETH Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter.
The king, on his own royal disposition,
And not provoked by any suitor else,
Aiming, belike65, at your interior hatred,
That in your outward action shows itself
Against my children, brothers, and myself,
Makes him to send68, that he may learn the ground.
RICHARD I cannot tell. The world is grown so bad
That wrens70 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’.74
God grant we never may have need of you.
RICHARD Meantime, God grants that I have need of you.
Our brother77 is imprisoned by your means,
Myself disgraced, 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.81
QUEEN ELIZABETH By him that raised me to this careful82 height
From that contented hap83 which I enjoyed,
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.88
RICHARD You may deny that you were not the mean
Of my lord Hastings’ late90 imprisonment.
RIVERS She may, my lord, for—
RICHARD She may, Lord Rivers? Why, who knows not so?
She may do more, sir, than denying that.
She may help you to many fair preferments94,
And then deny her aiding hand therein,
And lay those honours on your high desert.96
What may she not? She may, ay, marry97, may she—
RIVERS What, marry, may she?
RICHARD What, marry, may she? Marry with a king,
A bachelor and a handsome stripling100 too.
Iwis your grandam101 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 gross105 taunts that oft I have endured.
I had rather be a country servant-maid
Than a great queen, with this condition,
To be so bated, scorned and stormèd at.
Enter old Queen Margaret [unseen by the others]
Small joy have I in being England’s queen.
Speaks aside throughout
QUEEN MARGARET And lessened be that small, God, I beseech him!
Thy honour, state and seat111 is due to me.
To Queen Elizabeth
RICHARD What? Threat112 you me with telling of the king?
I will avouch’t113 in presence of the king.
I dare adventure114 to be sent to th’Tower.
’Tis time to speak, my pains115 are quite forgot.
QUEEN MARGARET Out116, devil! I do remember them too well:
Thou kill’dst my husband Henry in the Tower,
And Edward, my poor son, at Tewkesbury.
To Queen Elizabeth
RICHARD Ere119 you were queen, ay, or your husband king,
I was a packhorse120 in his great affairs,
A weeder-out of his proud121 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.
RICHARD In all which time you and your husband Grey
Were factious for126 the House of Lancaster.—
And, Rivers, so were you.— Was not your husband127
In Margaret’s battle128 at St Albans slain?
Let me put in your minds, if you forget,
What you have been ere this130, and what you are:
Withal131, what I have been, and what I am.
QUEEN MARGARET A murd’rous villain, and so still thou art.
RICHARD Poor Clarence did forsake his father133, Warwick,
Ay, and forswore himself134 — which Jesu pardon! —
QUEEN MARGARET Which God revenge!
RICHARD To fight on Edward’s party for the crown.
And for his meed137, poor lord, he is mewed up.
I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward’s,
Or Edward’s soft and pitiful139, like mine.
I am too childish-foolish140 for this world.
QUEEN MARGARET Hie141 thee to hell for shame, and leave this world,
Thou cacodemon!142 There thy kingdom is.
RIVERS My lord of Gloucester, in those busy days
Which here you urge144 to prove us enemies,
We followed then our lord, our sovereign king.
So should we you, if you should be our king.
RICHARD 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 A little joy enjoys the queen thereof,
For I am she, and altogether joyless.
I can no longer hold me patient.—
Comes forward
Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out
In sharing that which you have pilled157 from me.
Which of you trembles not that looks on me?
If not, that I am queen, you bow like subjects159,
Yet that, by you deposed, you quake like rebels.
To Richard
Ah, gentle villain161, do not turn away.
RICHARD Foul wrinkled witch, what mak’st thou162 in my sight?
QUEEN MARGARET But repetition of what thou hast marred163,
That will I make164 before I let thee go.
RICHARD Wert thou not banishèd 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.167
A husband and a son thou ow’st to me,
And thou169 a kingdom; all of you allegiance.
The sorrow that I have, by right is yours,
And all the pleasures you usurp are mine.
RICHARD The curse my noble father laid on thee172,
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 clout175
Steeped in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland176 —
His curses then, from bitterness of soul
Denounced against thee, are all fall’n upon thee,
And God, not we, hath plagued179 thy bloody deed.
QUEEN ELIZABETH So just is God, to right the innocent.
HASTINGS O, ’twas the foulest deed to slay that babe181,
And the most merciless that e’er was heard of!
RIVERS Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported.
DORSET No man but prophesied184 revenge for it.
BUCKINGHAM Northumberland, then present, wept to see it.
QUEEN MARGARET What? Were you snarling all before I came,
Ready to catch187 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 peevish192 brat?
Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven?
Why then give way, dull clouds, to my quick194 curses.
Though not by war, by surfeit195 die your king,
As ours by murder, to make him a king.—
To Elizabeth
Edward thy son, that now is Prince of Wales,
For Edward our son, that was Prince of Wales,
Die in his youth by like199 untimely violence!
Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen,
Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self!
Long mayst thou live to wail thy children’s death,
And see another, as I see thee now,
Decked in thy rights, as thou art stalled204 in mine.
Long die thy happy days before thy death,
And, after many lengthened hours of grief,
Die neither mother, wife, nor England’s queen.—
Rivers and Dorset, you were standers-by208,
And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son
Was stabbed with bloody daggers: God, I pray him,
That none of you may live his natural age,
But by some unlooked212 accident cut off.
RICHARD Have done thy charm, thou hateful withered hag.213
QUEEN MARGARET And leave out thee? Stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me.
If heaven have any grievous plague in store
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,
O, let them217 keep it till thy sins be ripe,
And then hurl down their indignation
On thee, the troubler of the poor world’s peace.
The worm of conscience still begnaw220 thy soul.
Thy friends suspect for221 traitors while thou liv’st,
And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends.
No sleep close up that deadly223 eye of thine,
Unless it be while some tormenting dream
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils.
Thou elvish-marked, abortive, rooting hog226,
Thou that wast sealed in thy nativity227
The slave of nature228 and the son of hell.
Thou slander of thy heavy229 mother’s womb,
Thou loathèd issue230 of thy father’s loins,
Thou rag231 of honour, thou detested—
RICHARD Margaret.232
QUEEN MARGARET Richard.
RICHARD Ha?
QUEEN MARGARET I call thee not.
RICHARD I cry thee mercy236 then, for I did think
That thou hadst called me all these bitter names.
QUEEN MARGARET Why, so I did, but looked for238 no reply.
O, let me make the period239 to my curse.
RICHARD ’Tis done by me, and ends in ‘Margaret’.
QUEEN ELIZABETH Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself.
QUEEN MARGARET Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune.242
Why strew’st thou sugar on that bottled243 spider,
Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about?
Fool, fool, thou whet’st245 a knife to kill thyself.
The day will come that thou shalt wish for me
To help thee curse this poisonous bunch-backed247 toad.
HASTINGS False-boding woman, end thy frantic248 curse,
Lest to thy harm thou move our patience.
QUEEN MARGARET Foul shame upon you! You have all moved mine.
RIVERS Were you well served251, you would be taught your duty.
QUEEN MARGARET To serve me well, you all should do me duty252,
Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects.
O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty.
DORSET Dispute not with her, she is lunatic.
QUEEN MARGARET Peace, Master Marquis, you are malapert256:
Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current.257
O, that your young nobility258 could judge
What ’twere to lose it, and be miserable.
They that stand high have many blasts to shake them,
And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces.
RICHARD Good counsel, marry. Learn it, learn it, marquis.
DORSET It touches you, my lord, as much as me.
RICHARD Ay, and much more. But I was born so high264,
Our eyrie265 buildeth in the cedar’s top,
And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun.266
QUEEN MARGARET And turns the sun267 to shade.
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