William Shakespeare - KING RICHARD III

STANLEY

Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.—

Take all the swift advantage of the hours;

You shall have letters from me to my son

In your behalf, to meet you on the way:

Be not ta’en tardy by unwise delay.

DUCHESS

O ill-dispersing wind of misery!—

O my accursèd womb, the bed of death!

A cockatrice hast thou hatch’d to the world,

Whose unavoided eye is murderous.

STANLEY

Come, madam, come; I in all haste was sent.

ANNE

And I with all unwillingness will go.—

O, would to God that the inclusive verge

Of golden metal that must round my brow

Were red-hot steel, to sear me to the brain !

Anointed let me be with deadly venom,

And die ere men can say God save the queen!

QUEEN ELIZABETH

Go, go, poor soul; I envy not thy glory;

To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm.

ANNE

No, why?—When he that is my husband now

Came to me, as I follow’d Henry’s corse;

When scarce the blood was well wash’d from his hands

Which issued from my other angel husband,

And that dear saint which then I weeping follow’d;

O, when, I say, I look’d on Richard’s face,

This was my wish,—“Be thou,” quoth I, “accurs’d

For making me, so young, so old a widow!

And when thou wedd’st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;

And be thy wife,—if any be so mad,—

More miserable by the life of thee

Than thou hast made me by my dear lord’s death!”

Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,

Within so small a time, my woman’s heart

Grossly grew captive to his honey words,

And prov’d the subject of mine own soul’s curse,—

Which hitherto hath held my eyes from rest;

For never yet one hour in his bed

Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep,

But with his timorous dreams was still awak’d.

Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick;

And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

Poor heart, adieu! I pity thy complaining.

ANNE

No more than with my soul I mourn for yours.

DORSET

Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory!

ANNE

Adieu, poor soul, that tak’st thy leave of it!

DUCHESS

[To DORSET]

Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee!—

[To ANNE]

Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee!—

[To QUEEN ELIZABETH]

Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee!

I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me!

Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen,

And each hour’s joy wreck’d with a week of teen.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

Stay yet, look back with me unto the Tower.—

Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes

Whom envy hath immur’d within your walls!

Rough cradle for such little pretty ones!

Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow

For tender princes, use my babies well!

So foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell.

[Exeunt.]

[Flourish of trumpets. RICHARD, as King, upon his throne; BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, RATCLIFF, LOVEL, a Page, and others.]

KING RICHARD

Stand all apart—Cousin of Buckingham,—

BUCKINGHAM

My gracious sovereign?

KING RICHARD

Give me thy hand.

[Ascends the throne.]

Thus high, by thy advice

And thy assistance, is King Richard seated:—

But shall we wear these glories for a day?

Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?

BUCKINGHAM

Still live they, and for ever let them last!

KING RICHARD

Ah, Buckingham, now do I play the touch,

To try if thou be current gold indeed:—

Young Edward lives;—think now what I would speak.

BUCKINGHAM

Say on, my loving lord.

KING RICHARD

Why, Buckingham, I say I would be king.

BUCKINGHAM

Why, so you are, my thrice-renownèd lord.

KING RICHARD

Ha! am I king? ‘tis so: but Edward lives.

BUCKINGHAM

True, noble prince.

KING RICHARD

O bitter consequence,

That Edward still should live,—true, noble Prince!—

Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull:—

Shall I be plain?—I wish the bastards dead;

And I would have it suddenly perform’d.

What say’st thou now? speak suddenly, be brief.

BUCKINGHAM

Your grace may do your pleasure.

KING RICHARD

Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes:

Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?

BUCKINGHAM

Give me some little breath, some pause, dear lord,

Before I positively speak in this:

I will resolve your grace immediately.

[Exit.]

CATESBY

[Aside]

The king is angry: see, he gnaws his lip.

KING RICHARD

I will converse with iron-witted fools

[Descends from his throne.]

And unrespective boys; none are for me

That look into me with considerate eyes:

High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect.

Boy!—

PAGE

My lord?

KING RICHARD

Know’st thou not any whom corrupting gold

Will tempt unto a close exploit of death?

PAGE

I know a discontented gentleman

Whose humble means match not his haughty spirit:

Gold were as good as twenty orators,

And will, no doubt, tempt him to anything.

KING RICHARD

What is his name?

PAGE

His name, my lord, is Tyrrel.

KING RICHARD

I partly know the man: go, call him hither, boy.

[Exit PAGE.]

The deep-revolving witty Buckingham

No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels:

Hath he so long held out with me untir’d,

And stops he now for breath?—well, be it so.

[Enter STANLEY.]

How now, Lord Stanley! what’s the news?

STANLEY

Know, my loving lord,

The Marquis Dorset, as I hear, is fled

To Richmond, in the parts where he abides.

KING RICHARD

Come hither, Catesby: rumour it abroad

That Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick;

I will take order for her keeping close:

Inquire me out some mean poor gentleman,

Whom I will marry straight to Clarence’ daughter;—

The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.—

Look how thou dream’st!—I say again, give out

That Anne, my queen, is sick and like to die:

About it; for it stands me much upon,

To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me.

[Exit CATESBY.]

I must be married to my brother’s daughter,

Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass:—

Murder her brothers, and then marry her!

Uncertain way of gain! But I am in

So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin:

Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.

[Re-enter PAGE, with TYRREL.]

Is thy name Tyrrel?

TYRREL

James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject.

KING RICHARD

Art thou, indeed?

TYRREL

Prove me, my gracious lord.

KING RICHARD

Dar’st thou resolve to kill a friend of mine?

TYRREL

Please you. But I had rather kill two enemies.

KING RICHARD

Why, then thou hast it: two deep enemies,

Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleep’s disturbers,

Are they that I would have thee deal upon:—

Tyrell, I mean those bastards in the Tower.

TYRREL

Let me have open means to come to them,

And soon I’ll rid you from the fear of them.

KING RICHARD

Thou sing’st sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrel:

Go, by this token:—rise, and lend thine ear:

[Whispers]

There is no more but so:—say it is done,

And I will love thee, and prefer thee for it.

TYRREL

I will despatch it straight.

[Exit.]

[Re-enter BUCKINGHAM.]