William Shakespeare - KING RICHARD III

Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love.

RIVERS

By heaven, my soul is purg’d from grudging hate;

And with my hand I seal my true heart’s love.

HASTINGS

So thrive I, as I truly swear the like!

KING EDWARD

Take heed you dally not before your king;

Lest He that is the supreme King of kings

Confound your hidden falsehood, and award

Either of you to be the other’s end.

HASTINGS

So prosper I, as I swear perfect love!

RIVERS

And I, as I love Hastings with my heart!

KING EDWARD

Madam, yourself is not exempt from this;—

Nor you, son Dorset;—Buckingham, nor you;—

You have been factious one against the other.

Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand;

And what you do, do it unfeignedly.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

There, Hastings; I will never more remember

Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine!

KING EDWARD

Dorset, embrace him;—Hastings, love lord marquis.

DORSET

This interchange of love, I here protest,

Upon my part shall be inviolable.

HASTINGS

And so swear I.

[Embraces Dorset.]

KING EDWARD

Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league

With thy embracements to my wife’s allies,

And make me happy in your unity.

BUCKINGHAM

Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate

Upon your grace [to the queen], but with all duteous love

Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me

With hate in those where I expect most love!

When I have most need to employ a friend,

And most assurèd that he is a friend,

Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile,

Be he unto me!—this do I beg of heaven

When I am cold in love to you or yours.

[Embracing Rivers &c.]

KING EDWARD

A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham,

Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart.

There wanteth now our brother Gloster here,

To make the blessèd period of this peace.

BUCKINGHAM

And, in good time, here comes the noble duke.

[Enter GLOSTER.]

GLOSTER

Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen;

And, princely peers, a happy time of day!

KING EDWARD

Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day.

Gloster, we have done deeds of charity;

Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate,

Between these swelling wrong-incensèd peers.

GLOSTER

A blessed labour, my most sovereign lord,—

Among this princely heap, if any here,

By false intelligence or wrong surmise,

Hold me a foe;

If I unwittingly, or in my rage,

Have aught committed that is hardly borne

To any in this presence, I desire

To reconcile me to his friendly peace:

‘Tis death to me to be at enmity;

I hate it, and desire all good men’s love.—

First, madam, I entreat true peace of you,

Which I will purchase with my duteous service;—

Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham,

If ever any grudge were lodg’d between us;—

Of you, and you, Lord Rivers, and of Dorset,

That all without desert have frown’d on me;

Of you, Lord Woodville, and, Lord Scales, of you;—

Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen;—indeed, of all.

I do not know that Englishman alive

With whom my soul is any jot at odds

More than the infant that is born tonight:

I thank my God for my humility.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

A holy day shall this be kept hereafter:—

I would to God all strifes were well compounded.—

My sovereign lord, I do beseech your highness

To take our brother Clarence to your grace.

GLOSTER

Why, madam, have I off’red love for this,

To be so flouted in this royal presence?

Who knows not that the gentle duke is dead?

[They all start.]

You do him injury to scorn his corse.

KING EDWARD

Who knows not he is dead! Who knows he is?

QUEEN ELIZABETH

All-seeing heaven, what a world is this!

BUCKINGHAM

Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest?

DORSET

Ay, my good lord; and no man in the presence

But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks.

KING EDWARD

Is Clarence dead? the order was revers’d.

GLOSTER

But he, poor man, by your first order died,

And that a wingèd Mercury did bear;

Some tardy cripple bore the countermand

That came too lag to see him burièd.

God grant that some, less noble and less loyal,

Nearer in bloody thoughts, an not in blood,

Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did,

And yet go current from suspicion!

[Enter Stanley.]

STANLEY

A boon, my sovereign, for my service done!

KING EDWARD

I pr’ythee, peace: my soul is full of sorrow.

STANLEY

I Will not rise unless your highness hear me.

KING EDWARD

Then say at once what is it thou request’st.

STANLEY

The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant’s life;

Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman

Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk.

KING EDWARD

Have I a tongue to doom my brother’s death,

And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave?

My brother kill’d no man,—his fault was thought,

And yet his punishment was bitter death.

Who su’d to me for him? who, in my wrath,

Kneel’d at my feet, and bid me be advis’d?

Who spoke of brotherhood? who spoke of love?

Who told me how the poor soul did forsake

The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me?

Who told me, in the field at Tewksbury,

When Oxford had me down, he rescu’d me,

And said “Dear brother, live, and be a king”?

Who told me, when we both lay in the field

Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me

Even in his garments, and did give himself,

All thin and naked, to the numb-cold night?

All this from my remembrance brutish wrath

Sinfully pluck’d, and not a man of you

Had so much grace to put it in my mind.

But when your carters or your waiting-vassals

Have done a drunken slaughter, and defac’d

The precious image of our dear Redeemer,

You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon;

And I, unjustly too, must grant it you:—

But for my brother not a man would speak,—

Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself

For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all

Have been beholding to him in his life;

Yet none of you would once beg for his life.—

O God, I fear Thy justice will take hold

On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this!

Come, Hastings, help me to my closet.

Ah, poor Clarence!

[Exeunt KING, QUEEN, HASTINGS, RIVERS, DORSET, and GREY.]

GLOSTER

This is the fruit of rashness! Mark’d you not

How that the guilty kindred of the queen

Look’d pale when they did hear of Clarence’ death?

O, they did urge it still unto the king!

God will revenge it.—Come, lords, will you go

To comfort Edward with our company?

BUCKINGHAM

We wait upon your grace.

[Exeunt.]

[Enter the DUCHESS OF YORK, with A SON and DAUGHTER of CLARENCE.]

SON

Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead?

DUCHESS

No, boy.

DAUGHTER

Why do you weep so oft, and beat your breast,

And cry “O Clarence, my unhappy son!”

SON

Why do you look on us, and shake your head,

And call us orphans, wretches, castaways,

If that our noble father were alive?

DUCHESS

My pretty cousins, you mistake me both;

I do lament the sickness of the king,

As loath to lose him, not your father’s death;

It were lost sorrow to wail one that’s lost.

SON

Then you conclude, my grandam, he is dead.