William Shakespeare - KING RICHARD III

SECOND CITIZEN

Ill news, by’r lady; seldom comes the better:

I fear, I fear ‘twill prove a giddy world.

[Enter third CITIZEN.]

THIRD CITIZEN

Neighbours, God speed!

FIRST CITIZEN

Give you good morrow, sir.

THIRD CITIZEN

Doth the news hold of good King Edward’s death?

SECOND CITIZEN

Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while!

THIRD CITIZEN

Then, masters, look to see a troublous world.

FIRST CITIZEN

No, no; by God’s good grace, his son shall reign.

THIRD CITIZEN

Woe to that land that’s govern’d by a child!

SECOND CITIZEN

In him there is a hope of government,

Which, in his nonage, council under him,

And, in his full and ripen’d years, himself,

No doubt, shall then, and till then, govern well.

FIRST CITIZEN

So stood the state when Henry the Sixth

Was crown’d in Paris but at nine months old.

THIRD CITIZEN

Stood the state so? No, no, good friends, God wot;

For then this land was famously enrich’d

With politic grave counsel; then the king

Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace.

FIRST CITIZEN

Why, so hath this, both by his father and mother.

THIRD CITIZEN

Better it were they all came by his father,

Or by his father there were none at all;

For emulation who shall now be nearest

Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not.

O, full of danger is the Duke of Gloster!

And the queen’s sons and brothers haught and proud:

And were they to be rul’d, and not to rule,

This sickly land might solace as before.

FIRST CITIZEN

Come, come, we fear the worst; all will be well.

THIRD CITIZEN

When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks;

When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;

When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?

Untimely storms make men expect a dearth.

All may be well; but, if God sort it so,

‘Tis more than we deserve or I expect.

SECOND CITIZEN

Truly, the hearts of men are fun of fear:

You cannot reason almost with a man

That looks not heavily and fun of dread.

THIRD CITIZEN

Before the days of change, still is it so:

By a divine instinct men’s minds mistrust

Ensuing danger; as, by proof, we see

The water swell before a boisterous storm.

But leave it all to God.—Whither away?

SECOND CITIZEN

Marry, we were sent for to the justices.

THIRD CITIZEN

And so was I; I’ll bear you company.

[Exeunt.]

[Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the young DUKE OF YORK, QUEEN ELIZABETH, and the DUCHESS OF YORK.]

ARCHBISHOP

Last night, I hear, they at Northampton lay;

And at Stony-Stratford they do rest tonight:

Tomorrow or next day they will be here.

DUCHESS

I long with all my heart to see the prince:

I hope he is much grown since last I saw him.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

But I hear no; they say my son of York

Has almost overta’en him in his growth.

YORK

Ay, mother; but I would not have it so.

DUCHESS

Why, my good cousin? it is good to grow.

YORK

Grandam, one night as we did sit at supper,

My uncle Rivers talk’d how I did grow

More than my brother. “Ay,” quoth my uncle Gloster,

“Small herbs have grace: great weeds do grow apace.”

And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast,

Because sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.

DUCHESS

Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold

In him that did object the same to thee:

He was the wretched’st thing when he was young,

So long a growing and so leisurely,

That, if his rule were true, he should be gracious.

ARCHBISHOP

And so no doubt he is, my gracious madam.

DUCHESS

I hope he is; but yet let mothers doubt.

YORK

Now, by my troth, if I had been remember’d,

I could have given my uncle’s grace a flout

To touch his growth nearer than he touch’d mine.

DUCHESS

How, my young York? I pr’ythee let me hear it.

YORK

Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast

That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old:

‘Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth.

Grandam, this would have been a biting jest.

DUCHESS

I pr’ythee, pretty York, who told thee this?

YORK

Grandam, his nurse.

DUCHESS

His nurse! why she was dead ere thou wast born.

YORK

If ‘twere not she, I cannot tell who told me.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

A parlous boy!—go to, you are too shrewd.

ARCHBISHOP

Good madam, be not angry with the child.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

Pitchers have ears.

ARCHBISHOP

Here comes a messenger.

[Enter a MESSENGER.]

What news?

MESSENGER

Such news, my lord, as grieves me to report.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

How doth the prince?

MESSENGER

Well, madam, and in health.

DUCHESS

What is thy news?

MESSENGER

Lord Rivers and Lord Grey are sent to Pomfret,

With them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners.

DUCHESS

Who hath committed them?

MESSENGER

The mighty dukes,

Gloster and Buckingham.

ARCHBISHOP

For what offence?

MESSENGER

The sum of all I can, I have disclos’d;

Why or for what the nobles were committed

Is all unknown to me, my gracious lady.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

Ah me, I see the ruin of my house!

The tiger now hath seiz’d the gentle hind;

Insulting tyranny begins to jet

Upon the innocent and aweless throne:—

Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre!

I see, as in a map, the end of all.

DUCHESS

Accursèd and unquiet wrangling days

How many of you have mine eyes beheld?

My husband lost his life to get the crown;

And often up and down my sons were toss’d

For me to joy and weep their gain and loss:

And being seated, and domestic broils

Clean overblown, themselves, the conquerors

Make war upon themselves; brother to brother,

Blood to blood, self against self: O, preposterous

And frantic outrage, end thy damnèd spleen;

Or let me die, to look on death no more!

QUEEN ELIZABETH

Come, come, my boy; we will to sanctuary.—

Madam, farewell.

DUCHESS

Stay, I will go with you.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

You have no cause.

ARCHBISHOP

[To the queen.]

My gracious lady, go.

And thither bear your treasure and your goods.

For my part, I’ll resign unto your grace

The seal I keep; and so betide to me

As well I tender you and all of yours!

Go, I’ll conduct you to the sanctuary.

[Exeunt.]

Table of Contents

[The trumpets sound. Enter the PRINCE OF WALES, GLOSTER, BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, CARDINAL BOURCHIER, and others.]

BUCKINGHAM

Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber.

GLOSTER

Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts’ sovereign:

The weary way hath made you melancholy.

PRINCE

No, uncle; but our crosses on the way

Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy:

I want more uncles here to welcome me.

GLOSTER

Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years

Hath not yet div’d into the world’s deceit:

Nor more can you distinguish of a man

Than of his outward show; which, God He knows,

Seldom or never jumpeth with the heart.

Those uncles which you want were dangerous;

Your grace attended to their sugar’d words

But look’d not on the poison of their hearts: