Richard the Third (Folio 1, 1623)
Peer Reviewed
¶
Scena Tertia.
2770
Enter old Queene Margaret.
¶And drop into the rotten mouth of death:
¶To watch the waining of mine enemies.
¶And will to France, hoping the consequence
¶Will proue as bitter, blacke, and Tragicall.
¶Withdraw thee wretched Margaret, who comes heere?
¶
Enter Dutchesse and Queene.
2780Qu. Ah my poore Princes! ah my tender Babes:
¶My vnblowed Flowres, new appearing sweets:
¶If yet your gentle soules flye in the Ayre,
¶And be not fixt in doome perpetuall,
¶Houer about me with your ayery wings,
2785And heare your mothers Lamentation.
¶Hath dim'd your Infant morne, to Aged night.
¶That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute.
2790Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?
¶Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet,
¶Edward for Edward, payes a dying debt.
¶And throw them in the intrailes of the Wolfe?
¶Breefe abstract and record of tedious dayes,
¶Vnlawfully made drunke with innocent blood.
¶Then would I hide my bones, not rest them heere,
2805Ah who hath any cause to mourne but wee?
¶Giue mine the benefit of signeurie,
¶And let my greefes frowne on the vpper hand
¶If sorrow can admit Society.
2810I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him:
¶I had a Husband, till a Richard kill'd him:
¶Thou had'st an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him:
¶Thou had'st a Richard, till a Richard kill'd him.
2815I had a Rutland too, thou hop'st to kill him.
¶And Richard kill'd him.
¶From forth the kennell of thy wombe hath crept
¶A Hell-hound that doth hunt vs all to death:
2820That Dogge, that had his teeth before his eyes,
¶To worry Lambes, and lap their gentle blood:
¶That foule defacer of Gods handy worke:
¶That reignes in gauled eyes of weeping soules:
¶That excellent grand Tyrant of the earth,
¶How do I thanke thee, that this carnall Curre
¶And makes her Pue-fellow with others mone.
2830Dut. Oh Harries wife, triumph not in my woes:
¶Mar. Beare with me: I am hungry for reuenge,
¶And now I cloy me with beholding it.
¶Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward,
2835The other Edward dead, to quit my Edward:
¶Yong Yorke, he is but boote, because both they
¶Thy Clarence he is dead, that stab'd my Edward,
¶And the beholders of this franticke play,
2840Th'adulterate Hastings, Riuers, Vaughan, Gray,
¶Richard yet liues, Hels blacke Intelligencer,
¶And send them thither: But at hand, at hand
2845Insues his pittious and vnpittied end.
¶Earth gapes, Hell burnes, Fiends roare, Saints pray,
¶To haue him sodainly conuey'd from hence:
¶Cancell his bond of life, deere God I pray,
¶That I may liue and say, The Dogge is dead.
¶That bottel'd Spider, that foule bunch-back'd Toad.
¶I call'd thee then, poore Shadow, painted Queen,
2855The presentation of but what I was;
¶The flattering Index of a direfull Pageant;
¶One heau'd a high, to be hurl'd downe below:
¶A Mother onely mockt with two faire Babes;
2860To be the ayme of euery dangerous Shot;
¶A signe of Dignity, a Breath, a Bubble;
¶A Queene in ieast, onely to fill the Scene.
¶Where is thy Husband now? Where be thy Brothers?
¶Where be thy two Sonnes? Wherein dost thou Ioy?
¶Where be the bending Peeres that flattered thee?
¶Where be the thronging Troopes that followed thee?
¶Decline all this, and see what now thou art.
2870For ioyfull Mother, one that wailes the name:
¶For Queene, a very Caytiffe, crown'd with care:
¶For she being feared of all, now fearing one:
2875For she commanding all, obey'd of none.
¶And left thee but a very prey to time,
¶Hauing no more but Thought of what thou wast.
¶To torture thee the more, being what thou art,
¶Now thy proud Necke, beares halfe my burthen'd yoke,
¶From which, euen heere I slip my wearied head,
¶And leaue the burthen of it all, on thee.
¶And teach me how to curse mine enemies.
¶Thinke that thy Babes were sweeter then they were,
¶And he that slew them fowler then he is:
¶Reuoluing this, will teach thee how to Curse.
2895Qu. My words are dull, O quicken them with thine.
¶And pierce like mine.
Exit Margaret.
¶Qu. Windy Atturnies to their Clients Woes,
¶Poore breathing Orators of miseries,
¶Let them haue scope, though what they will impart,
¶Helpe nothing els, yet do they ease the hart.
2905And in the breath of bitter words, let's smother
¶The Trumpet sounds, be copious in exclaimes.
¶
Enter King Richard, and his Traine.
¶Rich. Who intercepts me in my Expedition?
¶Where't should be branded, if that right were right?
2915The slaughter of the Prince that ow'd that Crowne,
¶And the dyre death of my poore Sonnes, and Brothers.
¶Tell me thou Villaine-slaue, where are my Children?
¶Dut. Thou Toad, thou Toade,
¶Where is thy Brother Clarence?
2920And little Ned Plantagenet his Sonne?
¶Qu. Where is the gentle Riuers, Vaughan, Gray?
¶Let not the Heauens heare these Tell-tale women
2925Raile on the Lords Annointed. Strike I say.
¶
Flourish._ Alarums.
¶Either be patient, and intreat me fayre,
¶Or with the clamorous report of Warre,
¶Thus will I drowne your exclamations.
2930Dut. Art thou my Sonne?
¶Dut. Then patiently heare my impatience.
¶Rich. Madam, I haue a touch of your condition,
¶That cannot brooke the accent of reproofe.
¶Dut: I will be milde, and gentle in my words.
2940(God knowes) in torment and in agony.
¶Thou cam'st on earth, to make the earth my Hell.
¶A greeuous burthen was thy Birth to me,
2945Tetchy and wayward was thy Infancie.
¶Thy School-daies frightfull, desp'rate, wilde, and furious,
¶Thy prime of Manhood, daring, bold, and venturous:
¶More milde, but yet more harmfull; Kinde in hatred:
2950What comfortable houre canst thou name,
¶That euer grac'd me with thy company?
¶Rich. Faith none, but Humfrey Hower,
¶That call'd your Grace
¶To Breakefast once, forth of my company.
¶Let me march on, and not offend you Madam.
¶Strike vp the Drumme.
2960Dut. Heare me a word:
¶Rich. So.
¶Ere from this warre thou turne a Conqueror:
¶And neuer more behold thy face againe.
¶Which in the day of Battell tyre thee more
2970My Prayers on the aduerse party fight,
¶And there the little soules of Edwards Children,
¶Whisper the Spirits of thine Enemies,
¶Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end:
2975Shame serues thy life, and doth thy death attend.
Exit.
2980For thee to slaughter. For my Daughters ( Richard)
¶They shall be praying Nunnes, not weeping Queenes:
¶And therefore leuell not to hit their liues.
¶Rich. You haue a daughter call'd Elizabeth,
¶Vertuous and Faire, Royall and Gracious?
¶And Ile corrupt her Manners, staine her Beauty,
¶Slander my Selfe, as false to Edwards bed:
¶Throw ouer her the vaile of Infamy,
¶Qu. No, to their liues, ill friends were contrary.
¶My Babes were destin'd to a fairer death,
3000If grace had blest thee with a fairer life.
¶Of Comfort, Kingdome, Kindred, Freedome, Life,
3005Thy head (all indirectly) gaue direction.
¶No doubt the murd'rous Knife was dull and blunt,
¶Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart,
¶To reuell in the Intrailes of my Lambes.
3010My tongue should to thy eares not name my Boyes,
¶Till that my Nayles were anchor'd in thine eyes:
¶Like a poore Barke, of sailes and tackling reft,
¶As I intend more good to you and yours,
¶Then euer you and yours by me were harm'd.
¶Qu. What good is couer'd with the face of heauen,
3020To be discouered, that can do me good.
¶Rich. Th'aduancement of your children, gentle Lady
¶Qu. Vp to
some Scaffold, there to lose their heads.
¶Rich. Vnto the dignity and height of Fortune,
¶The high Imperiall Type of this earths glory.
¶Tell me, what State, what Dignity, what Honor,
¶Will I withall indow a childe of thine:
3030So in the Lethe of thy angry soule,
3035Rich. Then know,
¶That from my Soule, I loue thy Daughter.
¶Rich. What do you thinke?
3040So from thy Soules loue didst thou loue her Brothers,
¶And from my hearts loue, I do thanke thee for it.
¶I meane that with my Soule I loue thy daughter,
¶And do intend to make her Queene of England.
¶Rich. Euen he that makes her Queene:
¶Qu. What, thou?
¶Rich. That I would learne of you,
¶As one being best acquainted with her humour.
¶Qu. And wilt thou learne of me?
¶Rich. Madam, with all my heart.
¶A paire of bleeding hearts: thereon ingraue
¶Edward and Yorke, then haply will she weepe:
¶Did to thy Father, steept in Rutlands blood,
3060A hand-kercheefe, which say to her did dreyne
¶And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withall.
¶If this inducement moue her not to loue,
¶Send her a Letter of thy Noble deeds:
3065Tell her, thou mad'st away her Vnckle Clarence,
¶Her Vnckle Riuers, I (and for her sake)
¶Mad'st quicke conueyance with her good Aunt Anne.
¶Rich. You mocke me Madam, this not the way
¶To win your daughter.
3070Qu. There is no other way,
¶And not be Richard, that hath done all this.
¶Ric. Say that I did all this for loue of her.
¶Rich. Looke what is done, cannot be now amended:
¶Which after-houres giues leysure to repent.
¶If I did take the Kingdome from your Sonnes,
3080To make amends, Ile giue it to your daughter:
¶To quicken your encrease, I will beget
3085Then is the doting Title of a Mother;
¶They are as Children but one steppe below,
¶Euen of your mettall, of your very blood:
¶Of all one paine, saue for a night of groanes
¶Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow.
3090Your Children were vexation to your youth,
¶But mine shall be a comfort to your Age,
¶I cannot make you what amends I would,
¶This faire Alliance, quickly shall call home
¶To high Promotions, and great Dignity.
3100The King that calles your beauteous Daughter Wife,
¶Againe shall you be Mother to a King:
¶Repayr'd with double Riches of Content.
3105What? we haue many goodly dayes to see:
¶The liquid drops of Teares that you haue shed,
¶Shall come againe, transform'd to Orient Pearle,
¶Aduantaging their Loue, with interest
3110Go then (my Mother) to thy Daughter go,
¶Make bold her bashfull yeares, with your experience,
¶Prepare her eares to heare a Woers Tale.
¶Put in her tender heart, th'aspiring Flame
¶The petty Rebell, dull-brain'd Buckingham,
¶Bound with Triumphant Garlands will I come,
¶And leade thy daughter to a Conquerors bed:
3120To whom I will retaile my Conquest wonne,
¶Or he that slew her Brothers, and her Vnkles?
3125Vnder what Title shall I woo for thee,
¶That God, the Law, my Honor, and her Loue,
¶Rich. Inferre faire Englands peace by this Alliance.
3130Rich. Tell her, the King that may command, intreats.
¶Qu. That at her hands, which the kings King forbids.
¶Rich. Sweetly in force, vnto her faire liues end.
¶Rich. As long as Heauen and Nature lengthens it.
¶Qu. As long as Hell and Richard likes of it.
3140Rich. Say, I her Soueraigne, am her Subiect low.
¶Rich. Be eloquent in my behalfe to her.
¶Rich. Then plainly to her, tell my louing tale.
¶Too deepe and dead (poore Infants) in their graues,
¶Now by my George, my Garter, and my Crowne.
¶Qu. By nothing, for this is no Oath:
3155Thy George prophan'd, hath lost his Lordly Honor;
¶Thy Garter blemish'd, pawn'd his Knightly Vertue;
3160Rich. Then by my Selfe.
¶Rich. Now by the World.
¶Qu. 'Tis full of thy foule wrongs.
¶Rich. Why then, by Heauen.
¶If thou didd'st feare to breake an Oath with him,
¶The vnity the King my husband made,
3170Thou had'st not broken, nor my Brothers died.
¶If thou had'st fear'd to breake an oath by him,
¶Th' Imperiall mettall, circling now thy head,
¶Had grac'd the tender temples of my Child,
¶And both the Princes had bene breathing heere,
3175Which now two tender Bed-fellowes for dust,
¶Thy broken Faith hath made the prey for Wormes.
¶Rich. The time to come.
¶Vngouern'd youth, to waile it with their age:
3185Old barren Plants, to waile it with their Age.
¶Sweare not by time to come, for that thou hast
¶So thriue I in my dangerous Affayres
¶Heauen, and Fortune barre me happy houres:
¶Day, yeeld me not thy light; nor Night, thy rest.
¶Be opposite all Planets of good lucke
¶To my proceeding, if with deere hearts loue,
3195Immaculate deuotion, holy thoughts,
¶I tender not thy beautious Princely daughter.
¶Without her, followes to my selfe, and thee;
3200Death, Desolation, Ruine, and Decay:
¶It cannot be auoyded, but by this:
¶It will not be auoyded, but by this.
¶Be the Atturney of my loue to her:
3205Pleade what I will be, not what I haue beene;
¶Qu. Shall I be tempted of the Diuel thus?
3210Rich. I, if the Diuell tempt you to do good.
¶Rich. But in your daughters wombe I bury them.
3215Where in that Nest of Spicery they will breed
¶Selues of themselues, to your recomforture.
¶Qu. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?
¶Rich. And be a happy Mother by the deed.
Exit Q.
¶Relenting Foole, and shallow-changing Woman.
¶How now, what newes?
¶
Enter Ratcliffe.
¶Throng many doubtfull hollow-hearted friends,
¶Vnarm'd, and vnresolu'd to beat them backe.
¶'Tis thought, that Richmond is their Admirall:
3230And there they hull, expecting but the aide
¶Of Buckingham, to welcome them ashore.
¶Ratcliffe thy selfe, or Catesby, where is hee?
¶Cat. Here, my good Lord.
3235Rich. Catesby, flye to the Duke.
¶When thou com'st thither: Dull vnmindfull Villaine,
¶What from your Grace I shall deliuer to him.
¶And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.
¶bury?
¶goe?
¶Rich. My minde is chang'd:
¶
Enter Lord Stanley.
¶Stanley, what newes with you?
3255Nor none so bad, but well may be reported.
¶Rich. Hoyday, a Riddle, neither good nor bad:
¶Once more, what newes?
3260Stan. Richmond is on the Seas.
¶White-liuer'd Runnagate, what doth he there?
¶He makes for England, here to clayme the Crowne.
¶What Heire of Yorke is there aliue, but wee?
3270And who is Englands King, but great Yorkes Heire?
¶Then tell me, what makes he vpon the Seas?
3275Thou wilt reuolt, and flye to him, I feare.
¶Rich. Where is thy Power then, to beat him back?
¶Where be thy Tenants, and thy followers?
¶Are they not now vpon the Westerne Shore,
3280Safe-conducting the Rebels from their Shippes?
¶Stan. No, my good Lord, my friends are in the
¶North.
¶Rich. Cold friends to me: what do they in the North,
3285Stan. They haue not been commanded, mighty King:
¶Ile muster vp my friends, and meet your Grace,
3290But Ile not trust thee.
3295Your Sonne George Stanley: looke your heart be firme,
¶Stan. So deale with him, as I proue true to you.
¶
Exit Stanley.
¶
Enter a Messenger.
¶As I by friends am well aduertised,
¶Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughtie Prelate,
¶Bishop of Exeter, his elder Brother,
¶With many moe Confederates, are in Armes.
3305
Enter another Messenger.
¶Mess. In Kent, my Liege, the Guilfords are in Armes,
¶And euery houre more Competitors
¶Flocke to the Rebels, and their power growes strong.
¶
Enter another Messenger.
3310Mess. My Lord, the Armie of great Buckingham.
¶Rich. Out on ye, Owles, nothing but Songs of Death,
¶
He striketh him.
¶There, take thou that, till thou bring better newes.
3315Is, that by sudden Floods, and fall of Waters,
¶And he himselfe wandred away alone,
¶No man knowes whither.
¶Rich. I cry thee mercie:
3320There is my Purse, to cure that Blow of thine.
¶Hath any well-aduised friend proclaym'd
¶Reward to him that brings the Traytor in?
¶Mess. Such Proclamation hath been made, my Lord.
¶
Enter another Messenger.
¶Who answer'd him, they came from Buckingham,
¶If not to fight with forraine Enemies,
¶Yet to beat downe these Rebels here at home.
¶
Enter Catesby.
¶Cat. My Liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken,
3340That is the best newes: that the Earle of Richmond
¶Is with a mighty power Landed at Milford,
¶A Royall batteil might be wonne and lost:
3345Some one take order Buckingham be brought
¶To Salsbury, the rest march on with me.
Florish. Exeunt
