Complete Plays, The

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Complete Plays, The Page 247

by William Shakespeare


  To whom I will retail my conquest won,

  And she shall be sole victress, Caesar’s Caesar.

  Queen Elizabeth

  What were I best to say? her father’s brother

  Would be her lord? or shall I say, her uncle?

  Or, he that slew her brothers and her uncles?

  Under what title shall I woo for thee,

  That God, the law, my honour and her love,

  Can make seem pleasing to her tender years?

  King Richard III

  Infer fair England’s peace by this alliance.

  Queen Elizabeth

  Which she shall purchase with still lasting war.

  King Richard III

  Say that the king, which may command, entreats.

  Queen Elizabeth

  That at her hands which the king’s King forbids.

  King Richard III

  Say, she shall be a high and mighty queen.

  Queen Elizabeth

  To wail the tide, as her mother doth.

  King Richard III

  Say, I will love her everlastingly.

  Queen Elizabeth

  But how long shall that title ‘ever’ last?

  King Richard III

  Sweetly in force unto her fair life’s end.

  Queen Elizabeth

  But how long fairly shall her sweet lie last?

  King Richard III

  So long as heaven and nature lengthens it.

  Queen Elizabeth

  So long as hell and Richard likes of it.

  King Richard III

  Say, I, her sovereign, am her subject love.

  Queen Elizabeth

  But she, your subject, loathes such sovereignty.

  King Richard III

  Be eloquent in my behalf to her.

  Queen Elizabeth

  An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.

  King Richard III

  Then in plain terms tell her my loving tale.

  Queen Elizabeth

  Plain and not honest is too harsh a style.

  King Richard III

  Your reasons are too shallow and too quick.

  Queen Elizabeth

  O no, my reasons are too deep and dead;

  Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their grave.

  King Richard III

  Harp not on that string, madam; that is past.

  Queen Elizabeth

  Harp on it still shall I till heart-strings break.

  King Richard III

  Now, by my George, my garter, and my crown,—

  Queen Elizabeth

  Profaned, dishonour’d, and the third usurp’d.

  King Richard III

  I swear —

  Queen Elizabeth

  By nothing; for this is no oath:

  The George, profaned, hath lost his holy honour;

  The garter, blemish’d, pawn’d his knightly virtue;

  The crown, usurp’d, disgraced his kingly glory.

  If something thou wilt swear to be believed,

  Swear then by something that thou hast not wrong’d.

  King Richard III

  Now, by the world —

  Queen Elizabeth

  ’Tis full of thy foul wrongs.

  King Richard III

  My father’s death —

  Queen Elizabeth

  Thy life hath that dishonour’d.

  King Richard III

  Then, by myself —

  Queen Elizabeth

  Thyself thyself misusest.

  King Richard III

  Why then, by God —

  Queen Elizabeth

  God’s wrong is most of all.

  If thou hadst fear’d to break an oath by Him,

  The unity the king thy brother made

  Had not been broken, nor my brother slain:

  If thou hadst fear’d to break an oath by Him,

  The imperial metal, circling now thy brow,

  Had graced the tender temples of my child,

  And both the princes had been breathing here,

  Which now, two tender playfellows to dust,

  Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms.

  What canst thou swear by now?

  King Richard III

  The time to come.

  Queen Elizabeth

  That thou hast wronged in the time o’erpast;

  For I myself have many tears to wash

  Hereafter time, for time past wrong’d by thee.

  The children live, whose parents thou hast slaughter’d,

  Ungovern’d youth, to wail it in their age;

  The parents live, whose children thou hast butcher’d,

  Old wither’d plants, to wail it with their age.

  Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast

  Misused ere used, by time misused o’erpast.

  King Richard III

  As I intend to prosper and repent,

  So thrive I in my dangerous attempt

  Of hostile arms! myself myself confound!

  Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours!

  Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy rest!

  Be opposite all planets of good luck

  To my proceedings, if, with pure heart’s love,

  Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,

  I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter!

  In her consists my happiness and thine;

  Without her, follows to this land and me,

  To thee, herself, and many a Christian soul,

  Death, desolation, ruin and decay:

  It cannot be avoided but by this;

  It will not be avoided but by this.

  Therefore, good mother,— I must can you so —

  Be the attorney of my love to her:

  Plead what I will be, not what I have been;

  Not my deserts, but what I will deserve:

  Urge the necessity and state of times,

  And be not peevish-fond in great designs.

  Queen Elizabeth

  Shall I be tempted of the devil thus?

  King Richard III

  Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do good.

  Queen Elizabeth

  Shall I forget myself to be myself?

  King Richard III

  Ay, if yourself’s remembrance wrong yourself.

  Queen Elizabeth

  But thou didst kill my children.

  King Richard III

  But in your daughter’s womb I bury them:

  Where in that nest of spicery they shall breed

  Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.

  Queen Elizabeth

  Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?

  King Richard III

  And be a happy mother by the deed.

  Queen Elizabeth

  I go. Write to me very shortly.

  And you shall understand from me her mind.

  King Richard III

  Bear her my true love’s kiss; and so, farewell.

  Exit Queen Elizabeth

  Relenting fool, and shallow, changing woman!

  Enter Ratcliff; Catesby following

  How now! what news?

  Ratcliff

  My gracious sovereign, on the western coast

  Rideth a puissant navy; to the shore

  Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends,

  Unarm’d, and unresolved to beat them back:

  ’Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral;

  And there they hull, expecting but the aid

  Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore.

  King Richard III

  Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Norfolk:

  Ratcliff, thyself, or Catesby; where is he?

  Catesby

  Here, my lord.

  King Richard III

  Fly to the duke:

  To Ratcliff

  Post thou to Salisbury

  When thou comest thither —

  To Catesby
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  Dull, unmindful villain,

  Why stand’st thou still, and go’st not to the duke?

  Catesby

  First, mighty sovereign, let me know your mind,

  What from your grace I shall deliver to him.

  King Richard III

  O, true, good Catesby: bid him levy straight

  The greatest strength and power he can make,

  And meet me presently at Salisbury.

  Catesby

  I go.

  Exit

  Ratcliff

  What is’t your highness’ pleasure I shall do at

  Salisbury?

  King Richard III

  Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go?

  Ratcliff

  Your highness told me I should post before.

  King Richard III

  My mind is changed, sir, my mind is changed.

  Enter Stanley

  How now, what news with you?

  Stanley

  None good, my lord, to please you with the hearing;

  Nor none so bad, but it may well be told.

  King Richard III

  Hoyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad!

  Why dost thou run so many mile about,

  When thou mayst tell thy tale a nearer way?

  Once more, what news?

  Stanley

  Richmond is on the seas.

  King Richard III

  There let him sink, and be the seas on him!

  White-liver’d runagate, what doth he there?

  Stanley

  I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.

  King Richard III

  Well, sir, as you guess, as you guess?

  Stanley

  Stirr’d up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Ely,

  He makes for England, there to claim the crown.

  King Richard III

  Is the chair empty? is the sword unsway’d?

  Is the king dead? the empire unpossess’d?

  What heir of York is there alive but we?

  And who is England’s king but great York’s heir?

  Then, tell me, what doth he upon the sea?

  Stanley

  Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.

  King Richard III

  Unless for that he comes to be your liege,

  You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes.

  Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear.

  Stanley

  No, mighty liege; therefore mistrust me not.

  King Richard III

  Where is thy power, then, to beat him back?

  Where are thy tenants and thy followers?

  Are they not now upon the western shore.

  Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships!

  Stanley

  No, my good lord, my friends are in the north.

  King Richard III

  Cold friends to Richard: what do they in the north,

  When they should serve their sovereign in the west?

  Stanley

  They have not been commanded, mighty sovereign:

  Please it your majesty to give me leave,

  I’ll muster up my friends, and meet your grace

  Where and what time your majesty shall please.

  King Richard III

  Ay, ay. thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond:

  I will not trust you, sir.

  Stanley

  Most mighty sovereign,

  You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful:

  I never was nor never will be false.

  King Richard III

  Well,

  Go muster men; but, hear you, leave behind

  Your son, George Stanley: look your faith be firm.

  Or else his head’s assurance is but frail.

  Stanley

  So deal with him as I prove true to you.

  Exit

  Enter a Messenger

  Messenger

  My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,

  As I by friends am well advertised,

  Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate

  Bishop of Exeter, his brother there,

  With many more confederates, are in arms.

  Enter another Messenger

  Second Messenger

  My liege, in Kent the Guildfords are in arms;

  And every hour more competitors

  Flock to their aid, and still their power increaseth.

  Enter another Messenger

  Third Messenger

  My lord, the army of the Duke of Buckingham —

  King Richard III

  Out on you, owls! nothing but songs of death?

  He striketh him

  Take that, until thou bring me better news.

  Third Messenger

  The news I have to tell your majesty

  Is, that by sudden floods and fall of waters,

  Buckingham’s army is dispersed and scatter’d;

  And he himself wander’d away alone,

  No man knows whither.

  King Richard III

  I cry thee mercy:

  There is my purse to cure that blow of thine.

  Hath any well-advised friend proclaim’d

  Reward to him that brings the traitor in?

  Third Messenger

  Such proclamation hath been made, my liege.

  Enter another Messenger

  Fourth Messenger

  Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis Dorset,

  ’Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms.

  Yet this good comfort bring I to your grace,

  The Breton navy is dispersed by tempest:

  Richmond, in Yorkshire, sent out a boat

  Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks

  If they were his assistants, yea or no;

  Who answer’d him, they came from Buckingham.

  Upon his party: he, mistrusting them,

  Hoisted sail and made away for Brittany.

  King Richard III

  March on, march on, since we are up in arms;

  If not to fight with foreign enemies,

  Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.

  Re-enter Catesby

  Catesby

  My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken;

  That is the best news: that the Earl of Richmond

  Is with a mighty power landed at Milford,

  Is colder tidings, yet they must be told.

  King Richard III

  Away towards Salisbury! while we reason here,

  A royal battle might be won and lost

  Some one take order Buckingham be brought

  To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.

  Flourish. Exeunt

  SCENE V. LORD DERBY’S HOUSE.

  Enter Derby and Sir Christopher Urswick

  Derby

  Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me:

  That in the sty of this most bloody boar

  My son George Stanley is frank’d up in hold:

  If I revolt, off goes young George’s head;

  The fear of that withholds my present aid.

  But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now?

  Christopher

  At Pembroke, or at Harford-west, in Wales.

  Derby

  What men of name resort to him?

  Christopher

  Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier;

  Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley;

  Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,

  And Rice ap Thomas with a valiant crew;

  And many more of noble fame and worth:

  And towards London they do bend their course,

  If by the way they be not fought withal.

  Derby

  Return unto thy lord; commend me to him:

  Tell him the queen hath heartily consented

  He shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter.

  These letters will resolve him of my mind. Farewell.
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  Exeunt

  ACT V

  SCENE I. SALISBURY. AN OPEN PLACE.

  Enter the Sheriff, and Buckingham, with halberds, led to execution

  Buckingham

  Will not King Richard let me speak with him?

  Sheriff

  No, my good lord; therefore be patient.

  Buckingham

  Hastings, and Edward’s children, Rivers, Grey,

  Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward,

  Vaughan, and all that have miscarried

  By underhand corrupted foul injustice,

  If that your moody discontented souls

  Do through the clouds behold this present hour,

  Even for revenge mock my destruction!

  This is All-Souls’ day, fellows, is it not?

  Sheriff

  It is, my lord.

  Buckingham

  Why, then All-Souls’ day is my body’s doomsday.

  This is the day that, in King Edward’s time,

  I wish’t might fall on me, when I was found

  False to his children or his wife’s allies

  This is the day wherein I wish’d to fall

  By the false faith of him I trusted most;

  This, this All-Souls’ day to my fearful soul

  Is the determined respite of my wrongs:

  That high All-Seer that I dallied with

  Hath turn’d my feigned prayer on my head

  And given in earnest what I begg’d in jest.

  Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men

  To turn their own points on their masters’ bosoms:

  Now Margaret’s curse is fallen upon my head;

  ‘When he,’ quoth she, ‘shall split thy heart with sorrow,

  Remember Margaret was a prophetess.’

  Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame;

  Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.

  Exeunt

  SCENE II. THE CAMP NEAR TAMWORTH.

  Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, Herbert, and others, with drum and colours

  Richmond

  Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends,

  Bruised underneath the yoke of tyranny,

  Thus far into the bowels of the land

  Have we march’d on without impediment;

  And here receive we from our father Stanley

  Lines of fair comfort and encouragement.

  The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar,

  That spoil’d your summer fields and fruitful vines,

  Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough

  In your embowell’d bosoms, this foul swine

  Lies now even in the centre of this isle,

  Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn

  From Tamworth thither is but one day’s march.

  In God’s name, cheerly on, courageous friends,

  To reap the harvest of perpetual peace

  By this one bloody trial of sharp war.

  Oxford

  Every man’s conscience is a thousand swords,

  To fight against that bloody homicide.

 

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