Complete Plays, The

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Complete Plays, The Page 244

by William Shakespeare


  That it may be this day read over in Paul’s.

  And mark how well the sequel hangs together:

  Eleven hours I spent to write it over,

  For yesternight by Catesby was it brought me;

  The precedent was full as long a-doing:

  And yet within these five hours lived Lord Hastings,

  Untainted, unexamined, free, at liberty

  Here’s a good world the while! Why who’s so gross,

  That seeth not this palpable device?

  Yet who’s so blind, but says he sees it not?

  Bad is the world; and all will come to nought,

  When such bad dealings must be seen in thought.

  Exit

  SCENE VII. BAYNARD’S CASTLE.

  Enter Gloucester and Buckingham, at several doors

  Gloucester

  How now, my lord, what say the citizens?

  Buckingham

  Now, by the holy mother of our Lord,

  The citizens are mum and speak not a word.

  Gloucester

  Touch’d you the bastardy of Edward’s children?

  Buckingham

  I did; with his contract with Lady Lucy,

  And his contract by deputy in France;

  The insatiate greediness of his desires,

  And his enforcement of the city wives;

  His tyranny for trifles; his own bastardy,

  As being got, your father then in France,

  His resemblance, being not like the duke;

  Withal I did infer your lineaments,

  Being the right idea of your father,

  Both in your form and nobleness of mind;

  Laid open all your victories in Scotland,

  Your dicipline in war, wisdom in peace,

  Your bounty, virtue, fair humility:

  Indeed, left nothing fitting for the purpose

  Untouch’d, or slightly handled, in discourse

  And when mine oratory grew to an end

  I bid them that did love their country’s good

  Cry ‘God save Richard, England’s royal king!’

  Gloucester

  Ah! and did they so?

  Buckingham

  No, so God help me, they spake not a word;

  But, like dumb statues or breathing stones,

  Gazed each on other, and look’d deadly pale.

  Which when I saw, I reprehended them;

  And ask’d the mayor what meant this wilful silence:

  His answer was, the people were not wont

  To be spoke to but by the recorder.

  Then he was urged to tell my tale again,

  ‘Thus saith the duke, thus hath the duke inferr’d;’

  But nothing spake in warrant from himself.

  When he had done, some followers of mine own,

  At the lower end of the hall, hurl’d up their caps,

  And some ten voices cried ‘God save King Richard!’

  And thus I took the vantage of those few,

  ‘Thanks, gentle citizens and friends,’ quoth I;

  ‘This general applause and loving shout

  Argues your wisdoms and your love to Richard:’

  And even here brake off, and came away.

  Gloucester

  What tongueless blocks were they! would not they speak?

  Buckingham

  No, by my troth, my lord.

  Gloucester

  Will not the mayor then and his brethren come?

  Buckingham

  The mayor is here at hand: intend some fear;

  Be not you spoke with, but by mighty suit:

  And look you get a prayer-book in your hand,

  And stand betwixt two churchmen, good my lord;

  For on that ground I’ll build a holy descant:

  And be not easily won to our request:

  Play the maid’s part, still answer nay, and take it.

  Gloucester

  I go; and if you plead as well for them

  As I can say nay to thee for myself,

  No doubt well bring it to a happy issue.

  Buckingham

  Go, go, up to the leads; the lord mayor knocks.

  Exit Gloucester

  Enter the Lord Mayor and Citizens

  Welcome my lord; I dance attendance here;

  I think the duke will not be spoke withal.

  Enter Catesby

  Here comes his servant: how now, Catesby,

  What says he?

  Catesby

  My lord: he doth entreat your grace;

  To visit him to-morrow or next day:

  He is within, with two right reverend fathers,

  Divinely bent to meditation;

  And no worldly suit would he be moved,

  To draw him from his holy exercise.

  Buckingham

  Return, good Catesby, to thy lord again;

  Tell him, myself, the mayor and citizens,

  In deep designs and matters of great moment,

  No less importing than our general good,

  Are come to have some conference with his grace.

  Catesby

  I’ll tell him what you say, my lord.

  Exit

  Buckingham

  Ah, ha, my lord, this prince is not an Edward!

  He is not lolling on a lewd day-bed,

  But on his knees at meditation;

  Not dallying with a brace of courtezans,

  But meditating with two deep divines;

  Not sleeping, to engross his idle body,

  But praying, to enrich his watchful soul:

  Happy were England, would this gracious prince

  Take on himself the sovereignty thereof:

  But, sure, I fear, we shall ne’er win him to it.

  Lord Mayor

  Marry, God forbid his grace should say us nay!

  Buckingham

  I fear he will.

  Re-enter Catesby

  How now, Catesby, what says your lord?

  Catesby

  My lord,

  He wonders to what end you have assembled

  Such troops of citizens to speak with him,

  His grace not being warn’d thereof before:

  My lord, he fears you mean no good to him.

  Buckingham

  Sorry I am my noble cousin should

  Suspect me, that I mean no good to him:

  By heaven, I come in perfect love to him;

  And so once more return and tell his grace.

  Exit Catesby

  When holy and devout religious men

  Are at their beads, ’tis hard to draw them thence,

  So sweet is zealous contemplation.

  Enter Gloucester aloft, between two Bishops. Catesby returns

  Lord Mayor

  See, where he stands between two clergymen!

  Buckingham

  Two props of virtue for a Christian prince,

  To stay him from the fall of vanity:

  And, see, a book of prayer in his hand,

  True ornaments to know a holy man.

  Famous Plantagenet, most gracious prince,

  Lend favourable ears to our request;

  And pardon us the interruption

  Of thy devotion and right Christian zeal.

  Gloucester

  My lord, there needs no such apology:

  I rather do beseech you pardon me,

  Who, earnest in the service of my God,

  Neglect the visitation of my friends.

  But, leaving this, what is your grace’s pleasure?

  Buckingham

  Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above,

  And all good men of this ungovern’d isle.

  Gloucester

  I do suspect I have done some offence

  That seems disgracious in the city’s eyes,

  And that you come to reprehend my ignorance.

  Buckingham

  You have, my lord: would it might please your grace,
<
br />   At our entreaties, to amend that fault!

  Gloucester

  Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land?

  Buckingham

  Then know, it is your fault that you resign

  The supreme seat, the throne majestical,

  The scepter’d office of your ancestors,

  Your state of fortune and your due of birth,

  The lineal glory of your royal house,

  To the corruption of a blemished stock:

  Whilst, in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts,

  Which here we waken to our country’s good,

  This noble isle doth want her proper limbs;

  Her face defaced with scars of infamy,

  Her royal stock graft with ignoble plants,

  And almost shoulder’d in the swallowing gulf

  Of blind forgetfulness and dark oblivion.

  Which to recure, we heartily solicit

  Your gracious self to take on you the charge

  And kingly government of this your land,

  Not as protector, steward, substitute,

  Or lowly factor for another’s gain;

  But as successively from blood to blood,

  Your right of birth, your empery, your own.

  For this, consorted with the citizens,

  Your very worshipful and loving friends,

  And by their vehement instigation,

  In this just suit come I to move your grace.

  Gloucester

  I know not whether to depart in silence,

  Or bitterly to speak in your reproof.

  Best fitteth my degree or your condition

  If not to answer, you might haply think

  Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded

  To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty,

  Which fondly you would here impose on me;

  If to reprove you for this suit of yours,

  So season’d with your faithful love to me.

  Then, on the other side, I cheque’d my friends.

  Therefore, to speak, and to avoid the first,

  And then, in speaking, not to incur the last,

  Definitively thus I answer you.

  Your love deserves my thanks; but my desert

  Unmeritable shuns your high request.

  First if all obstacles were cut away,

  And that my path were even to the crown,

  As my ripe revenue and due by birth

  Yet so much is my poverty of spirit,

  So mighty and so many my defects,

  As I had rather hide me from my greatness,

  Being a bark to brook no mighty sea,

  Than in my greatness covet to be hid,

  And in the vapour of my glory smother’d.

  But, God be thank’d, there’s no need of me,

  And much I need to help you, if need were;

  The royal tree hath left us royal fruit,

  Which, mellow’d by the stealing hours of time,

  Will well become the seat of majesty,

  And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign.

  On him I lay what you would lay on me,

  The right and fortune of his happy stars;

  Which God defend that I should wring from him!

  Buckingham

  My lord, this argues conscience in your grace;

  But the respects thereof are nice and trivial,

  All circumstances well considered.

  You say that Edward is your brother’s son:

  So say we too, but not by Edward’s wife;

  For first he was contract to Lady Lucy —

  Your mother lives a witness to that vow —

  And afterward by substitute betroth’d

  To Bona, sister to the King of France.

  These both put by a poor petitioner,

  A care-crazed mother of a many children,

  A beauty-waning and distressed widow,

  Even in the afternoon of her best days,

  Made prize and purchase of his lustful eye,

  Seduced the pitch and height of all his thoughts

  To base declension and loathed bigamy

  By her, in his unlawful bed, he got

  This Edward, whom our manners term the prince.

  More bitterly could I expostulate,

  Save that, for reverence to some alive,

  I give a sparing limit to my tongue.

  Then, good my lord, take to your royal self

  This proffer’d benefit of dignity;

  If non to bless us and the land withal,

  Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry

  From the corruption of abusing times,

  Unto a lineal true-derived course.

  Lord Mayor

  Do, good my lord, your citizens entreat you.

  Buckingham

  Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer’d love.

  Catesby

  O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit!

  Gloucester

  Alas, why would you heap these cares on me?

  I am unfit for state and majesty;

  I do beseech you, take it not amiss;

  I cannot nor I will not yield to you.

  Buckingham

  If you refuse it,— as, in love and zeal,

  Loath to depose the child, Your brother’s son;

  As well we know your tenderness of heart

  And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,

  Which we have noted in you to your kin,

  And egally indeed to all estates,—

  Yet whether you accept our suit or no,

  Your brother’s son shall never reign our king;

  But we will plant some other in the throne,

  To the disgrace and downfall of your house:

  And in this resolution here we leave you.—

  Come, citizens: ’zounds! I’ll entreat no more.

  Gloucester

  O, do not swear, my lord of Buckingham.

  Exit Buckingham with the Citizens

  Catesby

  Call them again, my lord, and accept their suit.

  Another

  Do, good my lord, lest all the land do rue it.

  Gloucester

  Would you enforce me to a world of care?

  Well, call them again. I am not made of stone,

  But penetrable to your. kind entreats,

  Albeit against my conscience and my soul.

  Re-enter Buckingham and the rest

  Cousin of Buckingham, and you sage, grave men,

  Since you will buckle fortune on my back,

  To bear her burthen, whether I will or no,

  I must have patience to endure the load:

  But if black scandal or foul-faced reproach

  Attend the sequel of your imposition,

  Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me

  From all the impure blots and stains thereof;

  For God he knows, and you may partly see,

  How far I am from the desire thereof.

  Lord Mayor

  God bless your grace! we see it, and will say it.

  Gloucester

  In saying so, you shall but say the truth.

  Buckingham

  Then I salute you with this kingly title:

  Long live Richard, England’s royal king!

  Lord Mayor

  Citizens

  Amen.

  Buckingham

  To-morrow will it please you to be crown’d?

  Gloucester

  Even when you please, since you will have it so.

  Buckingham

  To-morrow, then, we will attend your grace:

  And so most joyfully we take our leave.

  Gloucester

  Come, let us to our holy task again.

  Farewell, good cousin; farewell, gentle friends.

  Exeunt

  ACT IV

  SCENE I. BEFORE THE TOWER.

  Enter, on one side, Queen Elizabeth, Duchess Of York, and Dorset; o
n the other, Anne, Duchess of Gloucester, leading Lady Margaret Plantagenet, Clarence’s young Daughter

  Duchess Of York

  Who m eets us here? my niece Plantagenet

  Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester?

  Now, for my life, she’s wandering to the Tower,

  On pure heart’s love to greet the tender princes.

  Daughter, well met.

  Lady Anne

  God give your graces both

  A happy and a joyful time of day!

  Queen Elizabeth

  As much to you, good sister! Whither away?

  Lady Anne

  No farther than the Tower; and, as I guess,

  Upon the like devotion as yourselves,

  To gratulate the gentle princes there.

  Queen Elizabeth

  Kind sister, thanks: we’ll enter all together.

  Enter Brakenbury

  And, in good time, here the lieutenant comes.

  Master lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,

  How doth the prince, and my young son of York?

  Brakenbury

  Right well, dear madam. By your patience,

  I may not suffer you to visit them;

  The king hath straitly charged the contrary.

  Queen Elizabeth

  The king! why, who’s that?

  Brakenbury

  I cry you mercy: I mean the lord protector.

  Queen Elizabeth

  The Lord protect him from that kingly title!

  Hath he set bounds betwixt their love and me?

  I am their mother; who should keep me from them?

  Duchess Of York

  I am their fathers mother; I will see them.

  Lady Anne

  Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother:

  Then bring me to their sights; I’ll bear thy blame

  And take thy office from thee, on my peril.

  Brakenbury

  No, madam, no; I may not leave it so:

  I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.

  Exit

  Enter Lord Stanley

  Lord Stanley

  Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence,

  And I’ll salute your grace of York as mother,

  And reverend looker on, of two fair queens.

  To Lady Anne

  Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster,

  There to be crowned Richard’s royal queen.

  Queen Elizabeth

  O, cut my lace in sunder, that my pent heart

  May have some scope to beat, or else I swoon

  With this dead-killing news!

  Lady Anne

  Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news!

  Dorset

  Be of good cheer: mother, how fares your grace?

  Queen Elizabeth

  O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee hence!

  Death and destruction dog thee at the heels;

  Thy mother’s name is ominous to children.

  If thou wilt outstrip death, go cross the seas,

  And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell

 

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