The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

Well, Catesby, ere a fortnight make me older,

  I’ll send some packing that yet think not on’t.

  CATESBY

  ‘Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord,

  When men are unprepared, and look not for it.

  LORD HASTINGS

  O monstrous, monstrous! And so falls it out

  With Rivers, Vaughan, Gray—and so ‘twill do

  With some men else, that think themselves as safe

  As thou and I, who as thou know’st are dear

  To princely Richard and to Buckingham.

  CATESBY

  The Princes both make high account of you—

  (Aside) For they account his head upon the bridge.

  LORD HASTINGS

  I know they do, and I have well deserved it.

  Enter Lord Stanley

  Come on, come on, where is your boar-spear, man?

  Fear you the boar, and go so unprovided?

  STANLEY

  My lord, good morrow.—Good morrow, Catesby.—

  You may jest on, but by the Holy Rood

  I do not like these several councils, I.

  LORD HASTINGS

  My lord, I hold my life as dear as you do yours,

  And never in my days, I do protest,

  Was it so precious to me as ‘tis now.

  Think you, but that I know our state secure,

  I would be so triumphant as I am?

  STANLEY

  The lords at Pomfret, when they rode from London,

  Were jocund, and supposed their states were sure,

  And they indeed had no cause to mistrust;

  But yet you see how soon the day o’ercast.

  This sudden stab of rancour I misdoubt.

  Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward.

  What, shall we toward the Tower? The day is spent.

  LORD HASTINGS

  Come, come, have with you! Wot you what, my lord?

  Today the lords you talked of are beheaded.

  STANLEY

  They for their truth might better wear their heads

  Than some that have accused them wear their hats.

  But come, my lord, let us away.

  Enter a Pursuivant named ⌈hastings⌉

  LORD HASTINGS

  Go on before; I’ll follow presently.

  Exeunt Stanley and Catesby

  Well met, Hastings. How goes the world with thee?

  PURSUIVANT

  The better that your lordship please to ask.

  LORD HASTINGS

  I tell thee, man, ‘tis better with me now

  Than when I met thee last, where now we meet.

  Then was I going prisoner to the Tower,

  By the suggestion of the Queen’s allies;

  But now, I tell thee—keep it to thyself—

  This day those enemies are put to death,

  And I in better state than e’er I was.

  PURSUIVANT

  God hold it to your honour’s good content.

  LORD HASTINGS

  Gramercy, Hastings. There, drink that for me.

  He throws him his purse

  PURSUIVANT God save your lordship.

  Exit

  Enter a Priest

  PRIEST

  Well met, my lord. I am glad to see your honour.

  LORD HASTINGS

  I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my heart.

  I am in your debt for your last exercise.

  Come the next sabbath, and I will content you.

  ⌈He whispers in his ear.⌉

  Enter Buckingham

  BUCKINGHAM

  What, talking with a priest, Lord Chamberlain?

  Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the priest;

  Your honour hath no shriving work in hand.

  LORD HASTINGS

  Good faith, and when I met this holy man

  The men you talk of came into my mind.

  What, go you toward the Tower?

  BUCKINGHAM

  I do, my lord, but long I cannot stay there;

  I shall return before your lordship thence.

  LORD HASTINGS

  Nay, like enough, for I stay dinner there.

  BUCKINGHAM (aside)

  And supper too, although thou know’st it not.

  Come, will you go?

  LORD HASTINGS

  I’ll wait upon your lordship.

  Exeunt

  3.3 Enter Sir Richard Ratcliffe with Halberdiers taking Lord Rivers, Lord Gray, and Sir Thomas Vaughan to death at Pomfret

  RIVERS

  Sir Richard Ratcliffe, let me tell thee this:

  Today shalt thou behold a subject die

  For truth, for duty, and for loyalty.

  GRAY (to Ratcliffe)

  God bless the Prince from all the pack of you!

  A knot you are of damned bloodsuckers.

  VAUGHAN (to Ratcliffe)

  You live, that shall cry woe for this hereafter.

  RATCLIFFE

  Dispatch. The limit of your lives is out.

  RIVERS

  O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison,

  Fatal and ominous to noble peers!

  Within the guilty closure of thy walls,

  Richard the Second here was hacked to death,

  And, for more slander to thy dismal seat,

  We give to thee our guiltless blood to drink.

  GRAY

  Now Margaret’s curse is fall’n upon our heads,

  For standing by when Richard stabbed her son.

  RIVERS

  Then cursed she Hastings; then cursed she Buckingham;

  Then cursed she Richard. O remember, God,

  To hear her prayer for them as now for us.

  And for my sister and her princely sons,

  Be satisfied, dear God, with our true blood,

  Which, as thou know’st, unjustly must be spilt.

  RATCLIFFE

  Make haste: the hour of death is expiate.

  RIVERS

  Come, Gray; come, Vaughan; let us here embrace.

  Farewell, until we meet again in heaven.

  Exeunt

  3.4 Enter the Duke of Buckingham, Lord Stanley Earl of Derby, Lord Hastings, Bishop of Ely, the Duke of Norfolk, ⌈Sir William Catesby⌉, with others at a table

  LORD HASTINGS

  Now, noble peers, the cause why we are met

  Is to determine of the coronation.

  In God’s name, speak: when is the royal day?

  BUCKINGHAM

  Is all things ready for that solemn time?

  STANLEY

  It is, and wants but nomination.

  BISHOP OF ELY

  Tomorrow, then, I judge a happy day.

  BUCKINGHAM

  Who knows the Lord Protector’s mind herein?

  Who is most inward with the noble Duke?

  BISHOP OF ELY

  Your grace, methinks, should soonest know his mind.

  BUCKINGHAM

  We know each other’s faces. For our hearts,

  He knows no more of mine than I of yours,

  Or I of his, my lord, than you of mine.—

  Lord Hastings, you and he are near in love.

  LORD HASTINGS

  I thank his grace; I know he loves me well.

  But for his purpose in the coronation,

  I have not sounded him, nor he delivered

  His gracious pleasure any way therein.

  But you, my honourable lords, may name the time,

  And in the Duke’s behalf I’ll give my voice,

  Which I presume he’ll take in gentle part.

  Enter Richard Duke of Gloucester

  BISHOP OF ELY

  In happy time, here comes the Duke himself.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  My noble lords, and cousins all, good morrow.

  I have been long a sleeper, but I trust

  My absence doth neglect no great design

  Which by my presence might have
been concluded.

  BUCKINGHAM

  Had not you come upon your cue, my lord,

  William Lord Hastings had pronounced your part—

  I mean, your voice, for crowning of the King.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Than my Lord Hastings no man might be bolder.

  His lordship knows me well, and loves me well.—

  My lord of Ely, when I was last in Holborn

  I saw good strawberries in your garden there.

  I do beseech you send for some of them.

  BISHOP OF ELY

  Marry, and will, my lord, with all my heart. Exit

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Cousin of Buckingham, a word with you.

  (Aside) Catesby hath sounded Hastings in our business,

  And finds the testy gentleman so hot

  That he will lose his head ere give consent

  His ‘master’s child’—as worshipful he terms it—

  Shall lose the royalty of England’s throne.

  BUCKINGHAM

  Withdraw yourself a while; I’ll go with you.

  Exeunt Richard ⌈and Buckingham⌉

  STANLEY

  We have not yet set down this day of triumph.

  Tomorrow, in my judgement, is too sudden,

  For I myself am not so well provided

  As else I would be, were the day prolonged.

  Enter Bishop of Ely

  BISHOP OF ELY

  Where is my lord, the Duke of Gloucester?

  I have sent for these strawberries.

  LORD HASTINGS

  His grace looks cheerfully and smooth this morning.

  There’s some conceit or other likes him well,

  When that he bids good morrow with such spirit.

  I think there’s never a man in Christendom

  Can lesser hide his love or hate than he,

  For by his face straight shall you know his heart.

  STANLEY

  What of his heart perceive you in his face

  By any likelihood he showed today?

  LORD HASTINGS

  Marry, that with no man here he is offended—

  For were he, he had shown it in his looks.

  STANLEY I pray God he be not.

  Enter Richard ⌈and Buckingham⌉

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  I pray you all, tell me what they deserve

  That do conspire my death with devilish plots

  Of damned witchcraft, and that have prevailed

  Upon my body with their hellish charms?

  LORD HASTINGS

  The tender love I bear your grace, my lord,

  Makes me most forward in this princely presence

  To doom th’offenders, whatsoe’er they be.

  I say, my lord, they have deserved death.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Then be your eyes the witness of their evil:

  See how I am bewitched. Behold, mine arm

  Is like a blasted sapling withered up.

  And this is Edward’s wife, that monstrous witch,

  Consorted with that harlot, strumpet Shore,

  That by their witchcraft thus have marked me.

  LORD HASTINGS

  If they have done this deed, my noble lord—

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  'If’? Thou protector of this damned strumpet,

  Talk’st thou to me of 'ifs’ ? Thou art a traitor.—

  Off with his head. Now, by Saint Paul I swear,

  I will not dine until I see the same.

  Some see it done.

  The rest that love me, rise and follow me.

  Exeunt all but ⌈Catesby⌉ and Hastings

  LORD HASTINGS

  Woe, woe for England! Not a whit for me,

  For I, too fond, might have prevented this.

  Stanley did dream the boar did raze our helms,

  But I did scorn it and disdain to fly.

  Three times today my footcloth horse did stumble,

  And started when he looked upon the Tower,

  As loath to bear me to the slaughterhouse.

  O now I need the priest that spake to me.

  I now repent I told the pursuivant,

  As too triumphing, how mine enemies

  Today at Pomfret bloodily were butchered,

  And I myself secure in grace and favour.

  O Margaret, Margaret! Now thy heavy curse

  Is lighted on poor Hastings’ wretched head.

  ⌈CATESBY⌉

  Come, come, dispatch: the Duke would be at dinner.

  Make a short shrift; he longs to see your head.

  LORD HASTINGS

  O momentary grace of mortal men,

  Which we more hunt for than the grace of God.

  Who builds his hope in th’air of your good looks

  Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast,

  Ready with every nod to tumble down

  Into the fatal bowels of the deep.

  ⌈CATESBY⌉

  Come, come, dispatch. ‘Tis bootless to exclaim.

  LORD HASTINGS

  O bloody Richard! Miserable England!

  I prophesy the fearful’st time to thee

  That ever wretched age hath looked upon.—

  Come lead me to the block; bear him my head.

  They smile at me, who shortly shall be dead. Exeunt

  3.5Enter Richard Duke of Gloucester and the Duke of Buckingham in rotten armour, marvellous ill-favoured

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Come, cousin, canst thou quake and change thy colour?

  Murder thy breath in middle of a word?

  And then again begin, and stop again,

  As if thou wert distraught and mad with terror?

  BUCKINGHAM

  Tut, I can counterfeit the deep tragedian,

  Tremble and start at wagging of a straw,

  Speak, and look back, and pry on every side,

  Intending deep suspicion; ghastly looks

  Are at my service, like enforced smiles,

  And both are ready in their offices

  At any time to grace my stratagems.

  Enter the Lord Mayor

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER (aside to Buckingham)

  Here comes the Mayor.

  BUCKINGHAM (aside to Richard)

  Let me alone to entertain him.—Lord Mayor—

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER ⌈calling as to one within⌉

  Look to the drawbridge there!

  BUCKINGHAM Hark, a drum!

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER ⌈calling as to one within⌉

  Catesby, o’erlook the walls!

  BUCKINGHAM Lord Mayor, the reason we have sent—

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Look back, defend thee! Here are enemies.

  BUCKINGHAM

  God and our innocence defend and guard us.

  Enter ⌈Sir William Catesby⌉ with Hastings’ head

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  O, O, be quiet! It is Catesby.

  CATESBY

  Here is the head of that ignoble traitor,

  The dangerous and unsuspected Hastings.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  So dear I loved the man that I must weep.

  I took him for the plainest harmless creature

  That breathed upon the earth, a Christian,

  Made him my book wherein my soul recorded

  The history of all her secret thoughts.

  So smooth he daubed his vice with show of virtue

  That, his apparent open guilt omitted—

  I mean, his conversation with Shore’s wife—

  He lived from all attainture of suspect.

  BUCKINGHAM

  The covert’st sheltered traitor that ever lived.

  (To the Mayor) Would you imagine, or almost believe—

  Were’t not that, by great preservation,

  We live to tell it—that the subtle traitor

  This day had plotted in the Council house

  To murder me and
my good lord of Gloucester?

  MAYOR Had he done so?

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  What, think you we are Turks or infidels,

  Or that we would against the form of law

  Proceed thus rashly in the villain’s death

  But that the extreme peril of the case,

  The peace of England, and our persons’ safety,

  Enforced us to this execution?

  MAYOR

  Now fair befall you, he deserved his death,

  And your good graces both have well proceeded,

  To warn false traitors from the like attempts.

  I never looked for better at his hands

  After he once fell in with Mrs Shore.

  ⌈RICHARD GLOUCESTER⌉

  Yet had not we determined he should die,

  Until your lordship came to see his end,

  Which now the loving haste of these our friends—

  Something against our meanings—have prevented;

  Because, my lord, we would have had you hear

  The traitor speak, and timorously confess

  The manner and the purpose of his treason,

  That you might well have signified the same

  Unto the citizens, who haply may

  Misconster us in him, and wail his death.

  MAYOR

  But, my good lord, your graces’ word shall serve

  As well as I had seen and heard him speak.

  And do not doubt, right noble princes both,

  But I’ll acquaint our duteous citizens

  With all your just proceedings in this cause.

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  And to that end we wished your lordship here,

  T’avoid the censures of the carping world.

  BUCKINGHAM

  Which, since you come too late of our intent,

  Yet witness what you hear we did intend,

  And so, my good Lord Mayor, we bid farewell.

  Exit Mayor

  RICHARD GLOUCESTER

  Go after; after, cousin Buckingham!

  The Mayor towards Guildhall hies him in all post;

  There, at your meetest vantage of the time,

  Infer the bastardy of Edward’s children.

  Tell them how Edward put to death a citizen

  Only for saying he would make his son

  ‘Heir to the Crown’—meaning indeed, his house,

  Which by the sign thereof was termed so.

  Moreover, urge his hateful luxury

  And bestial appetite in change of lust,

  Which stretched unto their servants, daughters, wives,

  Even where his raging eye, or savage heart,