William Shakespeare - KING RICHARD III

What need’st thou run so many miles about,

When thou mayest 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-liver’d runagate, what doth he there?

STANLEY

I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.

KING RICHARD

Well, as you guess?

STANLEY

Stirr’d up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton,

He makes for England here, to claim the crown.

KING RICHARD

Is the chair empty? is the sword unsway’d?

Is the king dead? the empire unpossess’d?

What heir of York is there alive but we?

And who is England’s king but great York’s heir?

Then tell me, what makes he upon the seas?

STANLEY

Unless for that, my liege, I cannot 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, mighty leige; 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 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,

I’ll muster up my 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 I’ll 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 behind

Your son, George Stanley: look your heart be firm,

Or else his head’s 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 advértisèd,

Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate,

Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,

With many more confederates, are in arms.

[Enter a second 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 a third MESSENGER.]

THIRD MESSENGER

My lord, the army of great Buckingham,—

KING RICHARD

Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of death?

[He strikes 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,

Buckingham’s army is dispers’d and scatter’d;

And he himself wander’d away alone,

No man knows whither.

KING RICHARD

I cry you mercy:

There is my purse to cure that blow of thine.

Hath any well-advisèd friend proclaim’d

Reward to him that brings the traitor in?

THIRD MESSENGER

Such proclamation hath been made, my liege.

[Enter a fourth MESSENGER.]

FOURTH MESSENGER

Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis Dorset,

‘Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms.

But this good comfort bring I to your highness,—

The Britagne navy is dispers’d by tempest:

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 answer’d him they came from Buckingham

Upon his party. He, mistrusting them,

Hois’d sail, and made his course again for Britagne.

KING RICHARD

March on, march on, since we are up in arms;

If not to fight with foreign enemies,

Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.

[Re-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

A royal battle might be won and lost:—

Some one take order Buckingham be brought

To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.

[Flourish. Exeunt.]

[Enter STANLEY and SIR CHRISTOPHER URSWICK.]

STANLEY

Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me:—

That in the sty of the most deadly boar

My son George Stanley is frank’d up in hold:

If I revolt, off goes young George’s 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 Ha’rford-west in Wales.

STANLEY

What men of name resort to him?

CHRISTOPHER

Sir Walter Herbert, a renownèd 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 not fought withal.

STANLEY

Well, hie thee to thy lord; I kiss his hand;

My letter will resolve him of my mind.

Farewell.

[Gives papers to SIR CHRISTOPHER. Exeunt.]

Table of Contents

[Enter the Sheriff and Guard, with BUCKINGHAM, led to execution.]

BUCKINGHAM

Will not King Richard let me speak with him?

SHERIFF

No, my good lord; therefore be patient.

BUCKINGHAM

Hastings, and Edward’s 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, my lord.

BUCKINGHAM

Why, then All-Souls’ day is my body’s doomsday.

This is the day which in King Edward’s time

I wish’d might fall on me, when I was found

False to his children and his wife’s allies;

This is the day wherein I wish’d to fall

By the false faith of him whom most I trusted;

This, this All-Souls’ day to my fearful soul

Is the determin’d respite of my wrongs:

That high AllSeer which I dallied with

Hath turn’d my feigned prayer on my head

And given in earnest what I begg’d in jest.

Thus doth He force the swords of wicked men

To turn their own points in their masters’ bosoms:

Thus Margaret’s curse falls heavy on my neck,—

“When he,” quoth 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.

[Exeunt.]

[Enter with drum and colours, RICHMOND, OXFORD, SIR JAMES BLUNT, SIR WALTER HERBERT, and others, with Forces, marching.]

RICHMOND

Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends,

Bruis’d underneath the yoke of tyranny,