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  • Title: Richard the Third (Quarto 1, 1597)
  • Editor: Adrian Kiernander

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

    Richard the Third (Quarto 1, 1597)

    The Tragedy
    And were they to be rulde, and not to rule,
    This sickly land might solace as before.
    2 Come come, we feare the worst, all shalbe well.
    3 When cloudes appeare, wise men put on their clokes:
    1470When great leaues fall, the winter is at hand:
    When the sunne sets, who doth not looke for night:
    Vntimely stormes, make men expect a darth:
    All may be well: but if God sort it so,
    Tis more then we deserue or I expect.
    14751 Truely the soules of men are full of bread:
    Yee cannot almost reason with a man
    That lookes not heauily, and full of feare.
    3 Before the times of change still is it so:
    By a diuine instinct mens mindes mistrust
    1480Ensuing dangers, as by proofe we see.
    The waters swell before a boistrous storme:
    But leaue it all to God: whither away?
    2 We are sent for to the Iustice.
    3 And so was I, Ile beare you company. Exeunt.
    Enter Cardinall, Dutches of Yorke, Quee. young Yorke.
    Car. Last night I heare they lay at Northhampton.
    At Stonistratford will they be to night,
    1490To morrow or next day, they will be here.
    Dut. I long with all my heart to see the Prince,
    I hope he is much growen since last I saw him.
    Qu But I heare no, they say my sonne of Yorke
    Hath almost ouertane him in his growth.
    1495Yor. I mother, but I would not haue it so.
    Dut. Why my young Cosen it is good to growe.
    Yor. Grandam, one night as we did sit at supper,
    My Vnckle Riuers talkt how I did grow
    More then my brother. I quoth my Nnckle Glocester,
    1500Small herbes haue grace, great weedes grow apace,
    And since me thinkes I would not grow so fast:
    Because sweete flowers are slow, and weedes make haste.
    Dut. Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold
    In him that did obiect the same to thee:
    1505He was the wretchedst thing when he was young,