Told the sad story of my father’s death,
And twenty times made pause to sob and weep,
165
That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks
Like trees bedash’d with rain. In that sad time
My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;
And what these sorrows could not thence exhale,
Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with
weeping.
170
I never sued to friend nor enemy:
My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word;
But now thy beauty is propos’d my fee,
My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to
speak. [She looks scornfully at him.]
Teach not thy lip such scorn; for it was made
175
For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,
Lo here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword,
Which if thou please to hide in this true breast,
And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,
180
I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,
And humbly beg the death upon my knee.
[Kneels; he lays his breast open, she offers at it with his sword.]
Nay, do not pause, for I did kill King Henry –
But ’twas thy beauty that provoked me.
Nay, now dispatch: ’twas I that stabb’d young
Edward –
185
But ’twas thy heavenly face that set me on.
[She falls the sword.]
Take up the sword again, or take up me.
ANNE Arise, dissembler; though I wish thy death,
[He rises.]
I will not be thy executioner.
RICHARD Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.
190
ANNE I have already.
RICHARD That was in thy rage:
Speak it again, and even with the word,
This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love,
Shall for thy love kill a far truer love:
To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary.
195
ANNE I would I knew thy heart.
RICHARD ’Tis figur’d in my tongue.
ANNE I fear me both are false.
RICHARD Then never was man true.
ANNE Well, well, put up your sword.
200
RICHARD Say then my peace is made.
ANNE That shalt thou know hereafter.
RICHARD But shall I live in hope?
ANNE All men, I hope, live so.
RICHARD Vouchsafe to wear this ring.
205
ANNE To take is not to give.
RICHARD Look how my ring encompasseth thy finger:
Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart;
Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
And if thy poor devoted servant may
210
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.
ANNE What is it?
RICHARD
That it may please you leave these sad designs
To him that hath most cause to be a mourner,
215
And presently repair to Crosby Place,
Where, after I have solemnly interr’d
At Chertsey Monastery this noble King,
And wet his grave with my repentant tears,
I will with all expedient duty see you.
220
For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you
Grant me this boon.
ANNE With all my heart, and much it joys me too,
To see you are become so penitent.
Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.
225
RICHARD Bid me farewell.
ANNE ’Tis more than you deserve;
But since you teach me how to flatter you,
Imagine I have said farewell already.
Exeunt Tressel and Berkeley with Anne.
RICHARD Sirs, take up the corse.
GENTLEMAN Towards Chertsey, noble lord?
230
RICHARD No, to Whitefriars; there attend my coming.
Exeunt Gentlemen and Halberds with corse.
Was ever woman in this humour woo’d?
Was ever woman in this humour won?
I’ll have her, but I will not keep her long.
What, I that kill’d her husband and his father:
235
To take her in her heart’s extremest hate,
With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,
The bleeding witness of her hatred by,
Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me –
And I, no friends to back my suit at all
240
But the plain devil and dissembling looks –
And yet to win her, all the world to nothing!
Ha!
Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since,
245
Stabb’d in my angry mood at Tewkesbury?
A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,
Fram’d in the prodigality of Nature,
Young, valiant, wise, and no doubt right royal,
The spacious world cannot again afford.
250
And will she yet debase her eyes on me,
That cropp’d the golden prime of this sweet prince,
And made her widow to a woeful bed?
On me, whose all not equals Edward’s moiety?
On me, that halts and am misshapen thus?
255
My dukedom to a beggarly denier,
I do mistake my person all this while!
Upon my life, she finds – although I cannot –
Myself to be a marvellous proper man.
I’ll be at charges for a looking-glass,
260
And entertain a score or two of tailors
To study fashions to adorn my body:
Since I am crept in favour with myself,
I will maintain it with some little cost.
But first I’ll turn yon fellow in his grave,
265
And then return, lamenting, to my love.
Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,
That I may see my shadow as I pass. Exit.
1.3 Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, LORD RIVERS, LORD GREY and the MARQUESS OF DORSET.
RIVERS
Have patience, Madam, there’s no doubt his Majesty
Will soon recover his accustom’d health.
GREY In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse;
Therefore, for God’s sake entertain good comfort,
And cheer his Grace with quick and merry eyes.
5
ELIZABETH If he were dead, what would betide on me?
GREY No other harm but loss of such a lord.
ELIZABETH The loss of such a lord includes all harms.
GREY The heavens have bless’d you with a goodly son
To be your comforter when he is gone.
10
ELIZABETH Ah, he is young, and his minority
Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester,
A man that loves not me, nor none of you.
RIVERS Is it concluded he shall be Protector?
ELIZABETH It is determin’d, not concluded yet;
15
But so it must be, if the King miscarry.
Enter BUCKINGHAM and STANLEY, EARL OF DERBY.
GREY Here come the lords of Buckingham and Derby.
BUCKINGHAM
Good time of day unto your royal Grace.
STANLEY
God make your Majesty joyful, as you have been.
ELIZABETH
The Countess Richmond, good my lord of Derby,
20
To your
good prayer will scarcely say Amen;
Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she’s your wife,
And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur’d
I hate not you for her proud arrogance.
STANLEY I do beseech you, either not believe
25
The envious slanders of her false accusers,
Or if she be accus’d on true report,
Bear with her weakness, which I think proceeds
From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice.
RIVERS Saw you the King today, my lord of Derby?
30
STANLEY But now the Duke of Buckingham and I
Are come from visiting his Majesty.
ELIZABETH What likelihood of his amendment, lords?
BUCKINGHAM
Madam, good hope; his Grace speaks cheerfully.
ELIZABETH
God grant him health. Did you confer with him?
35
BUCKINGHAM
Ay, madam; he desires to make atonement
Between the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers,
And between them and my Lord Chamberlain;
And sent to warn them to his royal presence.
ELIZABETH
Would all were well – but that will never be;
40
I fear our happiness is at the height.
Enter RICHARD and HASTINGS.
RICHARD They do me wrong, and I will not endure it!
Who is it that complains unto the King
That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not?
By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly
45
That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours.
Because I cannot flatter, and look fair,
Smile in men’s faces, smooth, deceive and cog,
Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,
I must be held a rancorous enemy.
50
Cannot a plain man live and think no harm,
But thus his simple truth must be abus’d
With silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?
GREY To who in all this presence speaks your Grace?
RICHARD To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.
55
When have I injur’d thee? When done thee wrong?
Or thee? Or thee? Or any of your faction?
A plague upon you all! His royal Grace
(Whom God preserve better than you would wish)
Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing while
60
But you must trouble him with lewd complaints.
ELIZABETH
Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter:
The King, on his own royal disposition,
And not provok’d by any suitor else,
Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,
65
That in your outward action shows itself
Against my children, brothers, and myself,
Makes him to send, that he may learn the ground
Of your ill will, and thereby to remove it.
RICHARD I cannot tell; the world is grown so bad
70
That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch.
Since every Jack became a gentleman
There’s many a gentle person made a jack.
ELIZABETH
Come, come: we know your meaning, brother
Gloucester.
You envy my advancement, and my friends’.
75
God grant we never may have need of you.
RICHARD
Meantime, God grants that we have need of you:
Our brother is imprison’d by your means,
Myself disgrac’d, and the nobility
Held in contempt, while great promotions
80
Are daily given to ennoble those
That scarce some two days since were worth a noble.
ELIZABETH
By Him that rais’d me to this careful height
From that contented hap which I enjoy’d,
I never did incense his Majesty
85
Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been
An earnest advocate to plead for him.
My lord, you do me shameful injury,
Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects.
RICHARD You may deny that you were not the mean
90
Of my Lord Hastings’ late imprisonment.
RIVERS She may, my lord, for –
RICHARD
She may, Lord Rivers; why, who knows not so?
She may do more, sir, than denying that:
She may help you to many fair preferments,
95
And then deny her aiding hand therein,
And lay those honours on your high desert.
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 307