The Tragedy of Richard the Third

Shakespeare, William

The Tragedy of Richard the Third

 

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William Shakespeare

The Tragedy of Richard the Third

 

[Dramatis Personae

King Edward the Fourth

Edward, Prince of Wales, afterwards King Edward V

Richard, Duke of York

sons to the King

 

George, Duke of Clarence

Richard, Duke of Gloucester, afterwards King Richard III

brothers to the King

 

Edward Plantagenet, Earl of Warwick, a young son of Clarence

Henry, Earl of Richmond, afterwards King Henry VII

Cardinal Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury

Thomas Rotherham, Archbishop of York

John Morton, Bishop of Ely

Duke of Buckingham

Duke of Norfolk

Earl of Surrey, his son

Earl Rivers (Anthony Woodvile), brother to Queen Elizabeth

 

Marquess of Dorset

Lord Grey

sons to Queen Elizabeth

 

Earl of Oxford

Lord Hastings

Lord Stanley, called also Earl of Derby

Lord Lovel

Sir Thomas Vaughan

Sir Richard Ratcliffe

Sir William Catesby

Sir James Tyrrel

Sir James Blunt

Sir Walter Herbert

Sir Robert Brakenbury, Lieutenant of the Tower

Sir William Brandon

Christopher Urswick, a priest

Another Priest

Hastings, a pursuivant

Tressel and Berkeley, gentlemen attending on the Lady Anne

Keeper in the Tower

Lord Mayor of London

Sheriff of Wiltshire

 

Elizabeth, queen to King Edward IV

Margaret, widow of King Henry VI

Duchess of York, mother to King Edward IV, Clarence, and Gloucester

Lady Anne, widow of Edward, Prince of Wales, son to King Henry VI; afterwards married to Richard, Duke of Gloucester

Margaret Plantagenet, Countess of Salisbury, a young daughter of Clarence

 

Ghosts of those murdered by Richard III; Lords, Gentlemen, and other Attendants; Page, Scrivener, Citizens, Bishops, Aldermen, Councillors, Murderers, Messengers, Soldiers, etc.

 

Scene: London and other parts of England]

 

 

Act I,

Scene I

Enter Richard Duke of Gloucester solus.

 

[GLOU.]

Now is the winter of our discontent

Made glorious summer by this son of York;

And all the clouds that low'r'd upon our house

In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths,

Our bruised arms hung up for monuments,

Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,

Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

Grim-visag'd War hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;

And now, in stead of mounting barbed steeds

To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,

He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber

To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

But I, that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,

Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;

I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty

To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;

I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,

Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,

Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time

Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,

And that so lamely and unfashionable

That dogs bark at me as I halt by them –

Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,

Have no delight to pass away the time,

Unless to see my shadow in the sun

And descant on mine own deformity.

And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover

To entertain these fair well-spoken days,

I am determined to prove a villain

And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

Plots have I laid, inductions 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, false, and treacherous,

This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up

About a prophecy, which says that G

Of Edward's heirs the murtherer shall be.

Dive, thoughts, down to my soul, here Clarence comes!

 

Enter Clarence, guarded, and Brakenbury, [Lieutenant of the Tower].

 

Brother, good day. What means this armed guard

That waits upon your Grace?

CLAR.

His Majesty,

Tend'ring my person's safety, hath appointed

This conduct to convey me to the Tower.

GLOU.

Upon what cause?

CLAR.

Because my name is George.

GLOU.

Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours;

He should for that commit your godfathers.

O, belike his Majesty hath some intent

That you should be new christ'ned in the Tower.

But what's the matter, Clarence, may I know?

CLAR.

Yea, Richard, when I know; but I protest

As yet I do not. But, as I can learn,

He hearkens after prophecies and dreams,

And from the cross-row plucks the letter G,

And says a wizard told him that by G

His issue disinherited should be;

And for my name of George begins with G,

It follows in his thought that I am he.

These (as I learn) and such-like toys as these

Hath mov'd his Highness to commit me now.

GLOU.

Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by women:

'Tis not the King that sends you to the Tower;

My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she

That [tempers] him to this extremity.

Was it not she, and that good man of worship,

Anthony Woodvile, her brother there,

That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower,

From whence this present day he is delivered?

We are not safe, Clarence, we are not safe.

CLAR.

By heaven, I think there is no man [is] secure

But the Queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds

That trudge betwixt the King and Mistress Shore.

Heard you not what an humble suppliant

Lord Hastings was [to her for his] delivery?

GLOU.

Humbly complaining to her deity

Got my Lord Chamberlain his liberty.

I'll tell you what, I think it is our way,

If we will keep in favor with the King,

To be her men and wear her livery.

The jealous o'erworn widow and herself,

Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen,

Are mighty gossips in our monarchy.

BRAK.

I beseech your Graces both to pardon me:

His Majesty hath straitly given in charge

That no man shall have private conference

(Of what degree soever) with your brother.

GLOU.

Even so? And please your worship, Brakenbury,

You may partake of any thing we say:

We speak no treason, man. We say the King

Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen

Well strook in years, fair, and not jealious;

We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,

A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue;

And that the Queen's kindred are made gentlefolks.

How say you, sir? Can you deny all this?

BRAK.

With this, my lord, myself have nought to do.

GLOU.

Naught to do with Mistress Shore? I tell thee, fellow,

He that doth naught with her (excepting one)

Were best to do it secretly alone.

BRAK.

What one, my lord?

GLOU.

Her husband, knave. Wouldst thou betray me?

BRAK.

I do beseech your Grace to pardon me, and withal

Forbear your conference with the noble Duke.

CLAR.

We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.

GLOU.

We are the Queen's abjects, 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 enfranchise you.

Mean time, this deep disgrace in brotherhood

Touches me deeper than you can imagine.

CLAR.

I know it pleaseth neither of us well.

GLOU.

Well, your imprisonment shall not be long,

I will deliver you, or else lie for you.

Mean time, have patience.

CLAR.

I must perforce. Farewell.

 

Exit Clarence [with Brakenbury and Guard].

 

GLOU.

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 present at our hands.

But who comes here? the new-delivered Hastings?

 

Enter Lord Hastings.

HAST.

Good time of day unto my gracious lord!

GLOU.

As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain!

Well are you welcome to [the] open air.

How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?

HAST.

With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must;

But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks

That were the cause of my imprisonment.

GLOU.

No doubt, no doubt, and so shall Clarence too,

For they that were your enemies are his,

And have prevail'd as much on him as you.

HAST.

More pity that the eagles should be mew'd,

Whiles kites and buzzards [prey] at liberty.

GLOU.

What news abroad?

HAST.

No news so bad abroad as this at home:

The King is sickly, weak, and melancholy,

And his physicians fear him mightily.

GLOU.

Now by Saint John, that news is bad indeed!

O, he hath kept an evil diet long,

And overmuch consum'd his royal person:

'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.

Where is he? in his bed?

HAST.

He is.

GLOU.

Go you before, and I will follow you.

 

Exit Hastings.

 

He cannot live, I hope, and must not die

Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven.

I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence

With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments,

And if I fail not in my deep intent,

Clarence hath not another day to live:

Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,

And leave the world for me to bustle in!

For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.

What though I kill'd her husband and her father?

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 close intent

By marrying her which I must reach unto.

But yet I run before my horse to market:

Clarence still breathes, Edward still lives and reigns;

When they are gone, then must I count my gains.

 

Exit.

 

 

Scene II

Enter the corse of Henry the Sixt, with Halberds to guard it, Lady Anne being the mourner, [attended by Tressel and Berkeley].

 

ANNE.

Set down, set down your honorable load,

If honor may be shrouded in a hearse,

Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament

Th' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.

Poor key-cold figure of a holy king,

Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster,

Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood,

Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost

To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,

Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaught'red son,

Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these wounds!

Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life

I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.

O, cursed 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 betide that hated wretch

That makes us wretched by the death of thee

Than I can wish to wolves – to spiders, toads,

Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!

If ever he have child, abortive be it,

Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,

Whose ugly and unnatural aspect

May fright the hopeful mother at the view,

And that be heir to his unhappiness!

If ever he have wife, let her be made

More miserable by the [life] of him

Than I am made by my young lord and thee!

Come now towards Chertsey with your holy load,

Taken from Paul's to be interred there;

And still as you are weary of this weight,

Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse.

 

Enter Richard Duke of Gloucester.

 

GLOU.

Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.

ANNE.

What black magician conjures up this fiend

To stop devoted charitable deeds?

GLOU.

Villains, set down the corse, or, by Saint Paul,

I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.

GENTLEMAN.

My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.

GLOU.

Unmanner'd dog, [stand] thou when I command.

Advance thy halberd higher than my breast,

Or by Saint Paul I'll strike thee to my foot,

And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.

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. –

Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!

Thou hadst but power over his mortal body,

His soul thou canst not have. Therefore be gone.

GLOU.

Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.

ANNE.

Foul devil, for God's sake hence, and trouble us not,

For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,

Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims.

If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,

Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.

O gentlemen, see, see dead Henry's wounds

Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh!

Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity;

For 'tis thy presence that exhales 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 murth'rer dead;

Or earth gape open wide and eat him quick,

As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood,

Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered!

GLOU.

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 so fierce but knows some touch of pity.

GLOU.

But I know none, and therefore am no beast.

ANNE.

O wonderful, when devils tell the [troth]!

GLOU.

More wonderful, when angels are so angry.

Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,

Of these supposed crimes, to give me leave

By circumstance but to acquit myself.

ANNE.

Vouchsafe, defus'd infection of [a] man,

Of these known evils, but to give me leave

By circumstance [t' accuse] thy cursed self.

GLOU.

Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have

Some patient leisure to excuse myself.

ANNE.

Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make

No excuse current but to hang thyself.

GLOU.

By such despair I should accuse myself.

ANNE.

And by despairing shalt thou stand excused

For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,

That didst unworthy slaughter upon others.

GLOU.

Say that I slew them not?

ANNE.

Then say they were not slain.

But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.

GLOU.

I did not kill your husband.

ANNE.

Why then he is alive.

GLOU.

Nay, he is dead, and slain by Edward's hands.

ANNE.

In thy foul throat thou li'st! Queen Margaret saw

Thy murd'rous falchion smoking in his blood;

The which thou once didst bend against her breast,

But that thy brothers beat aside the point.

GLOU.

I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue,

That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.

ANNE.

Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind,

That never dream'st on aught but butcheries.

Didst thou not kill this king?

GLOU.

I grant ye.

ANNE.

Dost grant me, hedgehog? Then God grant me too

Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed!

O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous!

GLOU.

The better for the King of Heaven that hath him.

ANNE.

He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.

GLOU.

Let him thank me that holp to send him thither;

For he was fitter for that place than earth.

ANNE.

And thou unfit for any place, but hell.

GLOU.

Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.

ANNE.

Some dungeon.

GLOU.

Your bedchamber.

ANNE.

Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest!

GLOU.

So will it, madam, till I lie with you.

ANNE.

I hope so.

GLOU.

I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne,

To leave this keen encounter of our wits

And fall something into a slower method:

Is not the causer of the timeless deaths

Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward,

As blameful as the executioner?

ANNE.

Thou wast the cause, and most accurs'd effect.

GLOU.

Your beauty was the cause of that effect –

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, homicide,

These nails should rent that beauty from my cheeks.

GLOU.

These eyes could not endure that beauty's wrack;

You should not blemish it, if I stood by:

As all the world is cheered by the sun,

So I by that; it is my day, my life.

ANNE.

Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life!

GLOU.

Curse not thyself, fair creature – thou art both.

ANNE.

I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee.

GLOU.

It is a quarrel most unnatural,

To be reveng'd on him that loveth thee.

ANNE.

It is a quarrel just and reasonable,

To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband.

GLOU.

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.

GLOU.

He lives, that loves thee better than he could.

ANNE.

Name him.

GLOU.

Plantagenet.

ANNE.

Why, that was he.

GLOU.

The self-same name, but one of better nature.

ANNE.

Where is he?

GLOU.

Here.

 

([She] spits at him.)

 

Why dost thou spit at me?

ANNE.

Would it were mortal poison for thy sake!

GLOU.

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!

GLOU.

Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.

ANNE.

Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead!

GLOU.

I would they were, that I might die at once;

For now they kill me with a living death.

Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears,

Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops:

These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear –

No, when my father York and Edward wept

To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made

When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at him;

Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,

Told the sad story of my father's death,

And twenty times made pause to sob and weep,

That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks

Like trees bedash'd with rain – in that sad time

My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;

And what these sorrows could not thence exhale,

Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.

I never sued to friend nor enemy;

My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word;

But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee,

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,

Which if thou please to hide in this true breast,

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 provoked me.

Nay, now dispatch: 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward –

But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on.

 

She falls the sword.

 

Take up the sword again, or take up me.

ANNE.

Arise, dissembler! Though I wish thy death,

I will not be thy executioner.

GLOU.

Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.

ANNE.

I have already.

GLOU.

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;

To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary.

ANNE.

I would I knew thy heart.

GLOU.

'Tis figur'd in my tongue.

ANNE.

I fear me both are false.

GLOU.

Then never [was man] true.

ANNE.

Well, well, put up your sword.

GLOU.

Say then my peace is made.

ANNE.

That shalt thou know hereafter.

GLOU.

But shall I live in hope?

ANNE.

All men, I hope, live so.

[GLOU.]

Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

[ANNE.

To take is not to give.]

 

[Gloucester slips the ring on her finger.]

 

GLOU.

Look how my ring encompasseth thy finger,

Even so 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 favor at thy gracious hand,

Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.

ANNE.

What is it?

GLOU.

That it may please you leave these sad designs

To him that hath most cause to be a mourner,

And presently repair to Crosby House;

Where (after I have solemnly interr'd

At Chertsey monast'ry this noble king,

And wet his grave with my repentant tears)

I will with all expedient duty see you.

For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you,

Grant me this boon.

ANNE.

With all my heart, and much it joys me too,

To see you are become so penitent.

Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.

GLOU.

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, [Tressel and Berkeley,] with Anne.

 

[GLOU.

Sirs, take up the corse.]

GENT.

Towards Chertsey, noble lord?

GLOU.

No; to White-Friars, there attend my coming.

 

Exit corse [with Halberds].

 

Was ever woman in this humor woo'd?

Was ever woman in this humor won?

I'll have her, but I will not keep her long.

What? I, that kill'd 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 by,

Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me,

And I no friends to back my suit [at all]

But the plain devil and dissembling looks?

And yet to win her! All the world to nothing!

Hah!

Hath she forgot already that brave prince,

Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since,

Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?

A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,

Fram'd in the prodigality of nature –

Young, valiant, wise, and (no doubt) right royal –

The spacious world cannot again afford.

And will she yet abase her eyes on me,

That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince

And made her widow to a woeful bed?

On me, whose all not equals Edward's moi'ty?

On me, that halts and am misshapen thus?

My dukedom to a beggarly denier,

I do mistake my person all this while!

Upon my life, she finds (although I cannot)

Myself to be a marv'llous proper man.

I'll be at charges for a looking-glass,

And entertain a score or two of tailors

To study fashions to adorn my body:

Since I am crept in favor with myself,

I will maintain it with some little cost.

But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave,

And then return lamenting to my love.

Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,

That I may see my shadow as I pass.

 

Exit.

 

 

Scene III

Enter the Queen Mother [Elizabeth], Lord Rivers, [Marquess of Dorset,] and Lord Grey.

 

RIV.

Have patience, madam, there's no doubt his Majesty

Will soon recover his accustom'd health.

GREY.

In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse;

Therefore for God's sake entertain good comfort,

And cheer his Grace with quick and merry eyes.

Q. ELIZ.

If he were dead, what would betide on me?

GREY.

No other harm but loss of such a lord.

Q. ELIZ.

The loss of such a lord includes all harms.

GREY.

The heavens have blest you with a goodly son

To be your comforter when he is gone.

Q. ELIZ.

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.

RIV.

Is it concluded he shall be Protector?

Q. ELIZ.

It is determin'd, not concluded yet;

But so it must be, if the King miscarry.

 

Enter Buckingham and [Lord Stanley, Earl of] Derby.

 

GREY.

Here [come] the [lords] of Buckingham and Derby.

BUCK.

Good time of day unto your royal Grace!

STAN.

God make your Majesty joyful, as you have been!

Q. ELIZ.

The Countess Richmond, good my 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, assur'd

I hate not you for her proud arrogance.

STAN.

I do beseech you, either not believe

The envious slanders of her false accusers;

Or if she be accus'd on true report,

Bear with her weakness, which I think proceeds

From wayward sickness and no grounded malice.

Q. ELIZ.

Saw you the King to-day, my Lord of Derby?

STAN.

But now the Duke of Buckingham and I

Are come from visiting his Majesty.

Q. ELIZ.

What likelihood of his amendment, lords?

BUCK.

Madam, good hope, his Grace speaks cheerfully.

Q. ELIZ.

God grant him health! Did you confer with him?

BUCK.

Ay, madam, he desires to make atonement

Between the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers,

And between them and my Lord Chamberlain,

And sent to warn them to his royal presence.

Q. ELIZ.

Would all were well! but that will never be:

I fear our happiness is at the height.

 

Enter Richard [Duke of Gloucester and Lord Hastings].

 

GLOU.

They do me wrong, and I will not endure it!

Who is it that complains unto the King

That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not?

By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly

That fill his ears with such dissentious rumors.

Because I cannot flatter and look fair,

Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog,

Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,

I must be held a rancorous enemy.

Cannot a plain man live and think no harm,

But thus his simple truth must be abus'd

With silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

GREY.

To who in all this presence speaks your Grace?

GLOU.

To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace:

When have I injur'd 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 while

But you must trouble him with lewd complaints.

Q. ELIZ.

Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter:

The King, on his own royal disposition

(And not provok'd by any suitor else),

Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,

That in your outward action shows itself

Against my children, brothers, and myself,

Makes him to send, that he may learn the ground.

GLOU.

I cannot tell, the world is grown so bad

That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch.

Since every Jack became a gentleman,

There's many a gentle person made a Jack.

Q. ELIZ.

Come, come, we know your meaning, brother Gloucester;

You envy my advancement and my friends'.

God grant we never may have need of you!

GLOU.

Mean time, God grants that I have need of you.

Our brother is imprison'd by your means,

Myself disgrac'd, 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.

Q. ELIZ.

By Him that rais'd me to this careful height

From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,

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.

GLOU.

You may deny that you were not the mean

Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment.

RIV.

She may, my lord, for –

GLOU.

She may, Lord Rivers! Why, who knows not so?

She may do more, sir, than denying that:

She may help you to many fair preferments,

And then deny her aiding hand therein

And lay those honors on your high desert.

What may she not, she may, ay, marry, may she.

RIV.

What, marry, may she?

GLOU.

What, marry, may she? Marry with a king,

A bachelor, and a handsome stripling too:

Iwis your grandam had a worser match.

Q.