Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Adrian Kiernander
Peer Reviewed

Richard the Third (Quarto 1, 1597)

Enter the Lords to Councell.
Hast. My Lords at once the cause why we are met,
Is to determine of the coronation:
In Gods name say, when is this royall day?
1970Buc. Are all things fitting for that royall time?
Dar. It is, and wants but nomination.
Ryu. To morrow then, I guesse a happy time.
Buc. Who knowes the Lo: protectors mind herein?
G Who
The Tragedy
Who is most inward with the noble Duke.
1975Bi Why you my Lo: me thinks you should soonest know (his mind
Buc Who I my Lo? we know each others faces:
But for our harts, he knowes no more of mine,
Then I of yours: nor I no more of his, then you of mine:
1980Lo: Hastings you and he are neere in loue.
Hast. I thanke his Grace, I know he loues me well:
But for his purpose in the coronation:
I haue not sounded him nor he deliuerd
His Graces pleasure any way therein:
1985But you my noble Lo: may name the time,
And in the Dukes behalfe, Ile giue my voice,
Which I presume he will take in Gentle part.
Bish. Now in good time here comes the Duke himselfe. ( Ent. Glo.
1990Glo. My noble L. and Cosens all, good morrow,
I haue beene long a sleeper, but I hope
My absence doth neglect no great designes,
Which by my presence might haue been concluded.
Buc. Had not you come vpon your kew my Lo:
1995William L: Hastings had now pronounst your part:
I meane your voice for crowning of the King.
Glo. Than my Lo: Hastings no man might be bolder,
His Lordship knowes me well, and loues me well.
1998.1Hast. I thanke your Grace.
Glo.My Lo: of Elie, Bish. My Lo:
Glo. When I was last in Holborne:
2000I saw good strawberries in your garden there,
I doe beseech you send for some of them.
Bish. I go my Lord.
Glo. Cosen Buckingham, a word with you:
2005Catesby hath sounded Hastings in our busines,
And findes the testy Gentleman so hoat,
As he will loose his head eare giue consent,
His Masters sonne as worshipfull he termes it,
Shall loose the roialty of Englands throane.
2010Buc. Withdraw you hence my Lo: Ile follow you. Ex. Gl.
Dar We haue not yet set downe this day of triumph,
To morrow in mine opinion is too sodaine:
For
of Richard the third.
For I my selfe am not so well prouided, Enter B. of Ely.
2015As els I would be, were the day prolonged.
By. Where is my L. protector, I haue sent for these strawbe-(ries.
Ha. His Grace lookes cheerfully and smooth to day,
2020Theres some conceit or other likes him well,
When he doth bid good morrow with such a spirit.
I thinke there is neuer a man in christendome,
That can lesser hide his loue or hate then he:
For by his face straight shall you know his heart.
2025Dar. What of his heart perceiue you in his face,
By any likelihood he shewed to day?
Hast. Mary, that with no man here he is offended.
For if he were, he would haue shewen it in his lookes.
2028.1Dar. I pray God he be not, I say. Enter Glocester.
2030Glo. I pray you all, what doe they deserue,
That doe conspire my death with diuelish plots,
Of damned witchcraft, and that haue preuaild,
Vpon my body with their hellish charmes?
Hast. The tender loue I beare your grace my Lord,
2035Makes me most forward in this noble presence,
To doome the offenders whatsoeuer they be:
I say my Lo: they haue deserued death.
Glo. Then be your eies the witnesse of this ill,
See how I am bewitcht, behold mine arme
2040Is like a blasted sapling withered vp.
This is that Edwards wife, that monstrous witch,
Consorted with that harlot strumpet Shore,
That by their witchcraft, thus haue marked me.
Hast. If they haue done this thing my gratious Lo:
2045Glo. If, thou protector of this damned strumpet,
Telst thou me of iffes? thou art a traitor.
Off with his head. Now by Saint Paule,
I will not dine to day I sweare,
Vntill I see the same, some see it done,
2050The rest that loue me, come and follow me. Exeunt. manet Cat with Ha.
Ha Wo wo for England, not a whit for me:
For I too fond might haue preuented this:
2055Stanley did dreame the boare did race his helme,
G2 But
The Tragedy
But I disdaind it, and did scorne to flie,
Three times to day, my footecloth horse did stumble,
And startled when he lookt vpon the tower,
As loath to beare me to the slaughterhouse.
2060Oh, now I want the Priest that spake to me,
I now repent I tolde the Pursiuant,
As twere triumphing at mine enemies:
How they at Pomfret bloudily were butcherd,
And I my selfe secure in grace and fauour:
2065Oh Margaret Margaret: now thy heauy curse,
Is lighted on poore Hastings wretched head.
Cat. Dispatch my Lo: the Duke would be at dinner:
Make a short shrift, he longs to see your head.
Hast. O momentary state of worldly men,
2070Which we more hunt for, then the grace of heauen:
Who buildes his hopes in aire of your faire lookes,
Liues like a drunken sayler on a mast,
Ready with euery nod to tumble downe
Into the fatall bowels of the deepe.
Come leade me to the blocke, beare him my head,
2080They smile at me that shortly shalbe dead. Exeunt.