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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
    More direfull hap betide that hated wretch,
    That makes vs wretched by the death of thee:
    Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toades,
    Or any creeping venomde thing that liues.
    195If euer he haue child abortiue be it,
    Prodigious and vntimely brought to light:
    Whose vgly and vnnaturall aspect,
    May fright the hopefull mother at the view.
    200If euer he haue wife, let her be made
    As miserable by the death of him,
    As I am made by my poore Lord and thee.
    Come now towards Chertsey with your holy loade,
    Taken from Paules to be interred there:
    205And still as you are weary of the waight,
    Rest you whiles I lament King Henries corse.
    Enter Glocester.
    Glo. Stay you that beare the corse and set it downe.
    La. What blacke magitian coniures vp this fiend,
    210To stop deuoted charitable deedes.
    Glo. Villaine set downe the corse, or by S. Paule,
    Ile make a corse of him that disobeies.
    Gent. My Lord, stand backe and let the coffin passe.
    Glo. Vnmanerd dog, stand thou when I command,
    Aduance thy halbert higher than my brest,
    Or by Saint Paul Ile strike thee to my foote,
    And spurne vpon thee begger for thy boldnes.
    La. What doe you tremble, are you all afraid?
    220Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortall,
    And mortall eies cannot endure the diuell.
    Auaunt thou dreadfull minister of hell,
    Thou hadst but power ouer his mortall body,
    His soule thou canst not haue, therefore be gone.
    225Glo. Sweete Saint, for Charity be not so curst.
    La. Foule Diuell, for Gods sake hence & trouble vs not,
    For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell:
    Fild it with cursing cries and deepe exclaimes.
    230If thou delight to view thy hainous deedes,
    Behold this patterne of thy butcheries.
    Oh