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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)

    Enter King, Queene, Hastings, Ryuers, Dorcet, &c.
    Kin. So, now I haue done a good daies worke,
    1125You peeres continue this vnited league,
    I euery day eXpect an Embassage
    From my redeemer to redeeme me hence:
    And now in peace my soule shall part from heauen,
    Since I haue set my friends at peace on earth:
    1130Riuers and Hastings, take each others hand,
    Dissemble not your hatred, sweare your loue.
    Riu. By heauen, my heart is purgd from grudging hate,
    And with my hand I seale my true hearts loue.
    Hast. So thriue I as I truely sweare the like.
    1135Kin. Take heede you dally not before your King,
    Least he that is the supreme King of Kings,
    Confound your hidden falshood and award
    Either of you to be the others end.
    Hast. So prosper I, as I sweare perfect loue.
    1140Riu. And I, as I loue hastings with my heart.
    Kin. Madame, your selfe are not exempt in this,
    Nor your son Dorset, Buckingham nor you,
    You haue beene factious one against the other:
    Wife, loue Lo: Hastings, let him kisse your hand,
    1145And what you doe, doe it vnfainedly.
    Q. Here Hastings I will neuer more remember
    of Richard the third.
    Our former hatred so thriue I and mine.
    Dor. This enterchange of loue, I here protest,
    Vpon my part, shal be vnuiolable.
    Hast. And so sweare I my Lord.
    Kin. Now princely Buckingham seale thou this league
    With thy embracements to my wiues allies,
    1155And make me happy in your vnity.
    Buc. When euer Buckingham doth turne his hate,
    On you or yours, but with all duteous loue
    Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me
    With hate, in those where I expect most loue,
    1160When I haue most neede to imploy a friend,
    And most assured that he is a friend,
    Deepe, hollow, trecherous, and full of guile
    Be he vnto me, this doe I begge of God,
    When I am cold in zeale to you or yours.
    1165Kin. A pleasing cordiall Princely Buckingham,
    Is this thy vow vnto my sickly heart:
    There wanteth now our brother Glocester here,
    To make the perfect period of this peace. Enter Glocest.
    Buc. And in good time here comes the noble Duke.
    Glo. Good morrow to my soueraigne King & Queene,
    And Princely peeres, a happy time of day.
    Kin. Happy indeede as we haue spent the day:
    1175Brother we haue done deedes of charity:
    Made peace of enmity, faire loue of hate,
    Betweene these swelling wrong insenced peeres.
    Glo. A blessed labour, my most soueraigne liege,
    Amongst this princely heape, if any here
    1180By false intelligence or wrong surmise,
    Hold me a foe, if I vnwittingly or in my rage,
    Haue ought committed that is hardly borne
    By any in this presence, I desire
    To reconcile me to his friendly peace,
    1185Tis death to me to be at enmity.
    I hate it, and desire all good mens loue.
    First Madam I intreate true peace of you,
    Which I will purchase with my dutious seruice.
    The Tragedy
    Of you my noble Coosen Buckingham,
    1190If euer any grudge were logde betweene vs.
    Of you Lo: Riuers, and Lord Gray of you,
    That all without desert haue frownd on me,
    Dukes, Earles, Lords, gentlemen, indeed of all:
    1195I doe not know that English man aliue,
    With whom my soule is any iotte at oddes,
    More then the infant that is borne to night:
    I thanke my God for my humility.
    Qu. A holy day shall this be kept hereafter,
    1200I would to God all strifes were well compounded,
    My soueraigne liege I doe beseech your Maiesty,
    To take our brother Clarence to your Grace.
    Glo. Why Madame, haue I offred loue for this,
    To be thus scorned in this royall presence?
    1205Who knowes not that the noble Duke is dead,
    You doe him iniury to scorne his corse.
    Ryu. Who knowes not he is dead? who knowes he is?
    Qu. All seeing heauen, what a world is this?
    1210Buck. Looke I so pale Lo: Dorset as the rest?
    Dor. I my good L: and no one in this presence,
    But his red couler hath forsooke his cheekes.
    Kin. Is Clarence dead, the order was reuerst.
    Glo. But he poore soule by your first order died,
    1215And that a wingled Mercury did beare,
    Some tardy cripple bore the countermaund,
    That came too lag to see him buried:
    God grant that some lesse noble, and lesse loyall,
    Neerer in bloudy thoughts, but not in blond:
    1220Deserue not worse then wretched Clarence did,
    And yet go currant from suspition. Enter Darby.
    Dar. A boone my soueraigne for my seruice done.
    Kin. I pray thee peace, my soule is full of sorrow.
    1225Dar. I will not rise vnlesse your highnesse grant.
    Kin. Then speake at once, what is it thou demaundst.
    Dar. The forfeit soueraigne of my seruants life,
    Who slew to day a riotous gentleman,
    Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolke.
    Kin. Haue
    of Richard the third.
    1230Kin. Haue I a tongue to doome my brothers death,
    And shall the same giue pardon to a slaue?
    My brother slew no man, his fault was thought,
    And yet his punishment was cruell death.
    Who sued to me for him? who in my rage,
    1235Kneeld at my feete and bad me be aduisde?
    Who spake of Brotherhood? who of loue?
    Who told me how the poore soule did forsake
    The mighty Warwicke, and did fight for me:
    Who tolde me in the field by Teuxbery,
    1240When Oxford had me downe, he rescued me,
    And said deare brother, liue and be a King?
    Who told me when we both lay in the field,
    Frozen almost to death, how he did lappe me
    Euen in his owne garments, and gaue himselfe
    1245All thin and naked to the numbcold night?
    All this from my remembrance brutish wrath
    Sinfully puckt, and not a man of you
    Had so much grace to put it in my minde.
    But when your carters, or your waighting vassailes
    1250Haue done a drunken slaughter, and defaste
    The pretious image of oure deare Redeemer,
    You straight are on your knees for pardon pardon,
    And I vniustly too, must grant it you:
    But for my brother, not a man would speake,
    1255Nor I vngratious speake vnto my selfe,
    For him poore soule: The proudest of you all
    Haue beene beholding to him in his life:
    Yet none of you would once pleade for his life:
    Oh God I feare thy Iustice will take hold
    1260On me, and you, and mine, and yours for this.
    Come Hastings help me to my closet, oh poore Clarence, ( Exit.
    Glo. This is the fruit of rashnes: markt you not
    How that the guilty kindred of the Queene,
    1265Lookt pale when they did heare of Clarence death?
    Oh they did vrge it still vnto the King,
    God will reuenge it. But come lets in
    To comfort Edward with our company. Exeunt.
    E Enter
    The Tragedy