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  • Title: Richard the Third (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editor: Adrian Kiernander

  • Copyright Adrian Kiernander. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Adrian Kiernander
    Peer Reviewed

    Richard the Third (Folio 1, 1623)

    The Life and Death of Richard the Third.
    I thought my Mother, and my Brother Yorke,
    Would long, ere this, haue met vs on the way.
    Fie, what a Slug is Hastings, that he comes not
    To tell vs, whether they will come, or no.

    1600Enter Lord Hastings.

    Buck. And in good time, heere comes the sweating
    Prince. Welcome, my Lord: what, will our Mother
    1605Hast. On what occasion God he knowes, not I;
    The Queene your Mother, and your Brother Yorke,
    Haue taken Sanctuarie: The tender Prince
    Would faine haue come with me, to meet your Grace,
    But by his Mother was perforce with-held.
    1610Buck. Fie, what an indirect and peeuish course
    Is this of hers? Lord Cardinall, will your Grace
    Perswade the Queene, to send the Duke of Yorke
    Vnto his Princely Brother presently?
    If she denie, Lord Hastings goe with him,
    1615And from her iealous Armes pluck him perforce.
    Card. My Lord of Buckingham, if my weake Oratorie
    Can from his Mother winne the Duke of Yorke,
    Anon expect him here: but if she be obdurate
    To milde entreaties, God forbid
    1620We should infringe the holy Priuiledge
    Of blessed Sanctuarie: not for all this Land,
    Would I be guiltie of so great a sinne.
    Buck. You are too sencelesse obstinate, my Lord,
    Too ceremonious, and traditionall.
    1625Weigh it but with the grossenesse of this Age,
    You breake not Sanctuarie, in seizing him:
    The benefit thereof is alwayes granted
    To those, whose dealings haue deseru'd the place,
    And those who haue the wit to clayme the place:
    1630This Prince hath neyther claym'd it, nor deseru'd it,
    And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot haue it.
    Then taking him from thence, that is not there,
    You breake no Priuiledge, nor Charter there:
    Oft haue I heard of Sanctuarie men,
    1635But Sanctuarie children, ne're till now.
    Card. My Lord, you shall o're-rule my mind for once.
    Come on, Lord Hastings, will you goe with me?
    Hast. I goe, my Lord. Exit Cardinall and Hastings.
    Prince. Good Lords, make all the speedie hast you may.
    1640Say, Vnckle Glocester, if our Brother come,
    Where shall we soiourne, till our Coronation?
    Glo. Where it think'st best vnto your Royall selfe.
    If I may counsaile you, some day or two
    Your Highnesse shall repose you at the Tower:
    1645Then where you please, and shall be thought most fit
    For your best health, and recreation.
    Prince. I doe not like the Tower, of any place:
    Did Iulius Caesar build that place, my Lord?
    Buck. He did, my gracious Lord, begin that place,
    1650Which since, succeeding Ages haue re-edify'd.
    Prince. Is it vpon record? or else reported
    Successiuely from age to age, he built it?
    Buck. Vpon record, my gracious Lord.
    Prince. But say, my Lord, it were not registred,
    1655Me thinkes the truth should liue from age to age,
    As 'twere retayl'd to all posteritie,
    Euen to the generall ending day.
    Glo. So wise, so young, they say doe neuer liue long.
    Prince. What say you, Vnckle?
    1660Glo. I say, without Characters, Fame liues long.
    Thus, like the formall Vice, Iniquitie,
    I morallize two meanings in one word.
    Prince. That Iulius Caesar was a famous man,
    With what his Valour did enrich his Wit,
    1665His Wit set downe, to make his Valour liue:
    Death makes no Conquest of his Conqueror,
    For now he liues in Fame, though not in Life.
    Ile tell you what, my Cousin Buckingham.
    Buck. What, my gracious Lord?
    1670Prince. And if I liue vntill I be a man,
    Ile win our ancient Right in France againe,
    Or dye a Souldier, as I liu'd a King.
    Glo. Short Summers lightly haue a forward Spring.

    Enter young Yorke, Hastings, and Cardinall.

    1675Buck. Now in good time, heere comes the Duke of
    Prince. Richard of Yorke, how fares our Noble Bro-
    Yorke. Well, my deare Lord, so must I call you now.
    1680Prince. I, Brother, to our griefe, as it is yours:
    Too late he dy'd, that might haue kept that Title,
    Which by his death hath lost much Maiestie.
    Glo. How fares our Cousin, Noble Lord of Yorke?
    Yorke. I thanke you, gentle Vnckle. O my Lord,
    1685You said, that idle Weeds are fast in growth:
    The Prince, my Brother, hath out-growne me farre.
    Glo. He hath, my Lord.
    Yorke. And therefore is he idle?
    Glo. Oh my faire Cousin, I must not say so.
    1690Yorke. Then he is more beholding to you, then I.
    Glo. He may command me as my Soueraigne,
    But you haue power in me, as in a Kinsman.
    Yorke. I pray you, Vnckle, giue me this Dagger.
    Glo. My Dagger, little Cousin? with all my heart.
    1695Prince. A Begger, Brother?
    Yorke. Of my kind Vnckle, that I know will giue,
    And being but a Toy, which is no griefe to giue.
    Glo. A greater gift then that, Ile giue my Cousin.
    Yorke. A greater gift? O, that's the Sword to it.
    1700Glo. I, gentle Cousin, were it light enough.
    Yorke. O then I see, you will part but with light gifts,
    In weightier things you'le say a Begger nay.
    Glo. It is too weightie for your Grace to weare.
    Yorke. I weigh it lightly, were it heauier.
    1705Glo. What, would you haue my Weapon, little Lord?
    Yorke. I would that I might thanke you, as, as, you
    call me.
    Glo. How?
    Yorke. Little.
    1710Prince. My Lord of Yorke will still be crosse in talke:
    Vnckle, your Grace knowes how to beare with him.
    Yorke. You meane to beare me, not to beare with me:
    Vnckle, my Brother mockes both you and me,
    Because that I am little, like an Ape,
    1715He thinkes that you should beare me on your shoulders.
    Buck. With what a sharpe prouided wit he reasons:
    To mittigate the scorne he giues his Vnckle,
    He prettily and aptly taunts himselfe:
    So cunning, and so young, is wonderfull.
    1720Glo. My Lord, wilt please you passe along?
    My selfe, and my good Cousin Buckingham,
    Will to your Mother, to entreat of her
    To meet you at the Tower, and welcome you.
    Yorke. What,