William Shakespeare - KING RICHARD III

Was stabb’d with bloody daggers: God, I pray Him,

That none of you may live his natural age,

But by some unlook’d accident cut off!

GLOSTER

Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither’d hag.

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 them 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 be-gnaw thy soul!

Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv’st,

And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!

No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,

Unless it be while some tormenting dream

Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils!

Thou elvish-mark’d, abortive, rooting hog!

Thou that wast seal’d in thy nativity

The slave of nature and the son of hell!

Thou slander of thy heavy mother’s womb!

Thou loathèd issue of thy father’s loins!

Thou rag of honour! thou detested— GLOSTER

Margaret.

QUEEN MARGARET

Richard!

GLOSTER

Ha!

QUEEN MARGARET

I call thee not.

GLOSTER

I cry thee mercy then; for I did think

That thou hadst call’d me all these bitter names.

QUEEN MARGARET

Why, so I did; but look’d for no reply.

O, let me make the period to my curse!

GLOSTER

‘Tis done by me, and ends in—Margaret.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

Thus have you breath’d your curse against yourself.

QUEEN MARGARET

Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune!

Why strew’st thou sugar on that bottled spider,

Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about?

Fool, fool! thou whett’st a knife to kill thyself.

The day will come that thou shalt wish for me

To help thee curse this poisonous bunch-back’d toad.

HASTINGS

False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse,

Lest to thy harm thou move our patience.

QUEEN MARGARET

Foul shame upon you! you have all mov’d mine.

RIVERS

Were you well serv’d, you would be taught your duty.

QUEEN MARGARET

To serve me well, you all should do me duty,

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 malapert:

Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current:

O, that your young nobility 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.

GLOSTER

Good counsel, marry:—learn it, learn it, marquis.

DORSET

It touches you, my lord, as much as me.

GLOSTER

Ay, and much more: but I was born so high,

Our aery buildeth in the cedar’s top,

And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun.

QUEEN MARGARET

And turns the sun to shade;—alas! alas!—

Witness my son, now in the shade of death;

Whose bright outshining beams thy cloudy wrath,

Hath in eternal darkness folded up.

Your aery buildeth in our aery’s nest:—

O God that seest it, do not suffer it;

As it is won with blood, lost be it so!

BUCKINGHAM

Peace, peace, for shame, if not for charity.

QUEEN MARGARET

Urge neither charity nor shame to me:

Uncharitably with me have you dealt,

And shamefully my hopes by you are butcher’d.

My charity is outrage, life my shame,—

And in that shame still live my sorrow’s rage!

BUCKINGHAM

Have done, have done.

QUEEN MARGARET

O princely Buckingham, I’ll kiss thy hand,

In sign of league and amity with thee:

Now fair befall thee and thy noble house!

Thy garments are not spotted with our blood,

Nor thou within the compass of my curse.

BUCKINGHAM

Nor no one here; for curses never pass

The lips of those that breathe them in the air.

QUEEN MARGARET

I will not think but they ascend the sky,

And there awake God’s gentle-sleeping peace.

O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog!

Look, when he fawns he bites; and when he bites,

His venom tooth will rankle to the death:

Have not to do with him, beware of him;

Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him,

And all their ministers attend on him.

GLOSTER

What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham?

BUCKINGHAM

Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord.

QUEEN MARGARET

What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel?

And soothe the devil that I warn thee from?

O, but remember this another day,

When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow,

And say, poor Margaret was a prophetess!—

Live each of you the subjects to his hate,

And he to yours, and all of you to God’s!

[Exit.]

BUCKINGHAM

My hair doth stand an end to hear her curses.

RIVERS

And so doth mine: I muse why she’s at liberty.

GLOSTER

I cannot blame her: by God’s holy mother,

She hath had too much wrong; and I repent

My part thereof that I have done to her.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

I never did her any, to my knowledge.

GLOSTER

Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong.

I was too hot to do somebody good,

That is too cold in thinking of it now.

Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid;

He is frank’d up to fatting for his pains;

God pardon them that are the cause thereof!

RIVERS

A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion,

To pray for them that have done scathe to us!

GLOSTER

So do I ever being well advis’d;

[Aside]

For had I curs’d now, I had curs’d myself.

[Enter CATESBY.]

CATESBY

Madam, his majesty doth can for you,—

And for your grace,—and you, my noble lords.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

Catesby, I come.—Lords, will you go with me?

RIVERS

We wait upon your grace.

[Exeunt all but GLOSTER.]

GLOSTER

I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl.

The secret mischiefs that I set abroach

I lay unto the grievous charge of others.

Clarence,—whom I indeed have cast in darkness,—

I do beweep to many simple gulls;

Namely, to Stanley, Hastings, Buckingham;

And tell them ‘tis the queen and her allies

That stir the king against the duke my brother.

Now they believe it; and withal whet me

To be reveng’d on Rivers, Vaughn, Grey:

But then I sigh; and, with a piece of Scripture,

Tell them that God bids us do good for evil:

And thus I clothe my naked villany

With odd old ends stol’n forth of holy writ;

And seem a saint when most I play the devil.—

But, soft, here come my executioners.

[Enter two MURDERERS.]

How now, my hardy stout resolvèd mates!

Are you now going to dispatch this thing?

FIRST MURDERER

We are, my lord, and come to have the warrant,

That we may be admitted where he is.

GLOSTER

Well thought upon;—I have it here about me:

[Gives the warrant.]

When you have done, repair to Crosby Place.

But, sirs, be sudden in the execution,

Withal obdúrate, do not hear him plead;

For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps

May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him.

FIRST MURDERER

Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand to prate;

Talkers are no good doers: be assur’d

We go to use our hands, and not our tongues.

GLOSTER

Your eyes drop millstones when fools’ eyes fall tears:

I like you, lads;—about your business straight;