LIFE AND DEATH OF

KING RICHARD III.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

King Edward The Fourth.

Sir Richard RATCLIFF. EDWARD, Prince of Wales, after

Sir WILLIAM CATESBY. wards King Edward V. sons to the King. Sir James TYRKEL. RICHARD, Duke of York.

Sir JAMES BLOUNT. George, Duke of Clarence, brothers to the

Sir WALTER HERBERT. Richard, Duke of Gloster, after

Sir Robert BRAKENBURY, Lieutenant of the Tower,

King wards King Richard III.

CHRISTOPHER URSWICK, a Priest.
A young Son of Clarence.

Another Priest.
Henry, Earl of Richmond, afterwards King Lord Mayor of London.
Henry VII.

Sheriff of Wiltshire.
CARDINAL BourcUIER, Archbishop of Canterbury.
THOMAS ROTHERAM, Archbishop of York.

ELIZABETH, Queen of King Edward IV.
Joux Morton, Bishop of Ely.

MARGARET, widow of King Henry VI. DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

Duchess or York, mother to King Edward IV. Duke of Norfolk.

Clarence, and Gloster. EARL OF SURREY, his son.

Lady Anne, widow of Edward, Prince of Wales,
Earl Rivers, brother to King Edward's Queen. son to King Henry VI.; afterwards married to
Marquis or DORSET and LORD Grey, her sons. the Duke of Gloster.
Earl of OXFORD.

A young Daughter of Clarence.
LORD HASTINGS.
LORD STANLEY.

Lords, and other Atlendants; the Gentlemen, a LORD LOVEL.

Pursuivant, Scrivener, Citizens, Murderers, Vet Sir THOMAS VAUGHAN.

sengers, Ghosts, Soldiers, fc. SCENE, - ENGLAND.

ACT 1.

SCENE I. -- London. A Street. But I, - that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,

Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; Enter GLOSTER.

I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty; Glo. Now is the winter of our discontent, To strut before a wanton ambling nymph ; Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; I, that am cúrtail'd of this fair proportion, And all the clouds, that lowr'd upon our house, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, In the deep bosom of the ocean bury'd.

Deform'd, unfinish'i, sent before my time Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths ; Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; And that so lamely and unfashionable, Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them ; Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Why I, in this weak piping time of peace, Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front ; | Have no delight to pass away the time; And now --instead of mounting barbed steeds, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun, To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, – And descant on mine own deformity; He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber,

And therefore, - since I cannot prove a lorer, To the lascivious pleasing of a lute,

To entertain these fair well-spoken days,

will obey.

Acr I. SCENE I.

KING RICHARD III.
I am determined to prove a villain,

We say, that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

A cherry lip,
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,

A bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue :
By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams, And the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks :,
To set my brother Clarence, and the king,

How say you, sir ? can you deny all this?
In deadly hate the one against the other :

Brak. With this, my lord, myself have nought
And, if king Edward be as true and just,

to do
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,

Glo. Naught to do with mistress Shcre? I tell
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up;

thee, fellowe,
About a prophecy, which says that G

He that doth naught with her, excepting one,
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.

Were best to do it secretly, alone.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul! here Clarence Brak. What one, my lord ?
comes.

Glo. Her husband, knave : Would'st thou be.
Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY.

tray me?

Brak. I beseech your grace to pardon me; and,
Brother, good day: What means this armed guard,

withal,
That waits upon your grace ?

Forbear your conference with the noble duke.
Ciar.

His majesty,

Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and
Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed
This conduct to convey me to the Tower.

Glo. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey.
Gls. Upon what cause ?

Brother, farewell : I will unto the king ;
Clar.

Because my name is - George. And whatsoe'er you will employ me in,
Glo. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours; Were it, to call king Edward's widow - sister,
He should, for that, commit your godfathers : I will perform it, to enfranchise you.
O, belike, his majesty hath some intent,

Mean time, this deep disgrace in brotherhood,
That you shall be new christen'd in the Tower. Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know? Clar. I know, it pleaseth neither of us well,

Clar. Yea, Richard, when I know ; for, I protest, Glo. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;
As yet I do not : But, as I can learn,

I will deliver you, or else lie for you:
He hearkens after prophecies, and dreams ;

Mean time, have patience.
And from the cross-row plucks the letter G,

Clar.

I must perforce; farewell. And says — a wizard told him, that by G

(Ereunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard. His issue disinherited should be ;

Glo. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er And, for my name of George begins with G,

return,
It follows in his thought, that I am he:

Simple, plain Clarence ! I do love thee so,
T bese, as I learn, and such like toys as these, That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven,
Have mov'd his highness to commit me now. If heaven will take the present at our hands.

Gle. Why, this it is, when men are ruld by But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings?
Tis not the king, that sends you to the Tower ;

Enter HASTINGS.
Hy lady Grey, his wife, Clarence, 'tis she,

Hast. Good time of day unto my gracious lord !
That tempers him to this extremity.

Glo. As much unto my good lord chamberlain !
Was it not she, and that good man of worship, Well are you welcome to this open air.
Antony Woodeville, her brother there,

How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?
That made him send lord Hastings to the Tower ; Hast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners
Prom whence this present day he is deliver'd ?

must:
We are not safe, Clarenco, we are not safe.

But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks,
Clor. By heaven, I think, there is no man secure, That were the cause of my imprisonment.
But the queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds Glo. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence
naat trudge betwixt the king and mistress Shore.

too ;
Flead you not, what an humble suppliant

For they, that were your enemies, are his,
Lord Hastings was to her for his delivery? And have prevail'd as much on him, as you.
Glo. Humbly complaining to her deity

Hast. More pity, that the eagle should be mewid,
Got my lord chamberlain his liberty.

While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.. 11 tell you what, - I think, it is our way,

Glo. What news abroad? isse will keep in favour with the king,

Hast. No news so bad abroad, as this at home ;To be her men, and wear her livery :

The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy, he jealous o'er-worn widow, and herself, And his physicians fear him mightily.

ose that our brother dubb’d them gentlewomen, Glo. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed.
Fe mighty gossips in this monarchy.

O, he hath kept an evil diet long,
Drak. I beseech your graces both to pardon me; And over-much consum'd his royal person;
His majesty hath straitly given in charge,

'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.
at no man shall have private conference,

What, is he in his bed ? * schat degree soever, with lús brother.

Hast.

He is. GW. Even so ? an please your worship, Braken- Gło. Go you before, and I will follow you. bury,

(Exit Hastings. may partake of any thing we say :

He cannot live, I hope; and must not dic, speak no treason, man ;- We say, the king Till George be pack'd with posthorse up to heaven. ise, and virtuous; and his noble queen I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence, 1 struck in years ; fair, and not jealous : With lies well stcel'd with weighty arguments;

women:

And, if I fail not in my deep intent,

Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, Clarence hath not another day to live :

Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, Which done, God take king Edward to his mercy, And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. And leave the world for me to bustle in !

[The bearers set down the coffin.
For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter : Anne. What do you tremble? are you all afraid?
What, though I kill'd her husband, and her father? Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal,
The readiest way to make the wench amends, And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil

.
Is — to become her husband, and her father : Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell !
The which will I; not all so much for love, Thou had'st but power over his mortal body,
As for another secret close intent,

His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone. By marrying her, which I must reach unto.

Glo. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. But yet I run before my horse to market :

Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives, and

trouble us not ; reigns;

For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, When they are gone, then must I count my gains. Fill'd it with cursing cries, and deep exclaims.

(Exit. If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,

Behold this pattern of thy butcheries : SCENE II. The same. Another Street. O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds Enter the corpse of King HENRY THE SIXTH, borne Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity;

Open their congeal'd mouths, and bleed afresh! in an open coffin, Gentlemen bearing halberds, to guard it; and Lady Anne as mourner.

For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood

From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; Anne. Set down, set down your honourable Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural, load,

Provokes this deluge most unnatural. If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,

O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death! Whilst I a while obsequiously lament

O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge bis The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.

death! Poor key-cold figure of a holy king !

Either, heaven, with lightning strike the murderer Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster !

dead, Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood ! Or, earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick; Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost,

As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood, To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,

Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered! Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son,

Glo. Lady, you know no rules of charity, Stabb’d by the self-same hand that made these which renders good for bad, blessings for curses wounds!

Anne. Villain, thou know'st no law of God nur Lo, in these windows, that let forth thy life,

man; I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes : No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity. O, cursed be the hand, that made these holes ! Glo. But I know none, and therefore am Cursed the heart, that had the heart to do it!

beast. Cursed the blood, that let this blood from hence ! Anne. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth! More direful hap betide that hated wretch,

Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so angry.com
That makes us wretched by the death of thee, Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,
Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,

Of these supposed erils, to give me leave,
Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives! By circumstance, but to acquit myself.
If ever he have child, abortive be it,

Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, For these known evils, but to give me leave, Whose ugly and unnatural aspect

By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self

. May fright the hopeful mother at the view;

Glo. Fairer than tongue can name thee, het mye And that be heir to his unhappiness !

have If ever he have wife, let her be made

Some patient leisure to excuse myself. More miserable by the death of him,

Anne, Fouler than heart can think the time Than I am made by my young lord, and thee !

canst make Come, now, toward Chertsey with your holy load, No excuse current, but to hang thyself. Taken from Paul's to be interred there ;

Gło. By such despair, I should accuse myself. And, still as you are weary of the weight,

Anne. And, by despairing, shalt thou stand Rest you, whiles I lament king Henry's corse.

excus'd;
[The bearers take up the corpse, and advance. For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,

That didst unworthy slaughter upon others.
Enter GLOSTER.

Glo. Say, that I slew thern not? G's. Stay you, that bear the corse, and set it Anne.

Why then, they are not dead down.

But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thes. Anne. What black magician conjures up this Glo. I did not kill your husband. fiend,

Anne. To stop devoted charitable deeds ?

Glo. Nay, he is dead ; and slain by Edward) Glo. Villains, set down the corse ; or, by Saint Paul,

hand. I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.

Anne. In thy soul's throat thou liest ; qurier 1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin

Margaret saw pass.

Thy murderous faulchion smoking in his blood; Glo. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou when I com- The which thou once didst bend against her brak mand :

But that thy brothers beat aside the point

Why, then be is alive I grant ye.

come.

Glo. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue, Anne. Never hung poison on a fouler toad.
That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. Out of my sight! thou dost infect mine eyes.
Anne. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind, Glo. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.
That never dreamt on aught but butcheries :

Anne. 'Would they were basilisks, to strike thee Didst thou not kill this king?

dead! Glo.

Glo. I would they were, that I might die at once ; Arne. Dost grant me, hedge-hog ? then, God For now they kill me with a living death. grant me too,

Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deed ! Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops : 0, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous.

These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear, — Glo. The fitter for the King of heaven that hath Not, when my father York and Edward wept, him.

To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made, Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at him :

Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, Glo. Let him thank me, that holp to send him Told the sad story of my father's death; thither ;

And twenty times made pause, to sob, and weep, For he was fitter for that place, than earth. That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks, Anne. And thou unfit for any place, but hell. Like trees bedash'd with rain : in that sad time, Gla. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear ; name it.

And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, Aane Some dungeon.

Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping. Glo.

Your bea-chamber. I never su'd to friend, nor enemy; Anne. Il rest betide the chamber where thou My tongue could never learn sweet soothing word;: liest!

But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee, Glo. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to Anne. I hope so.

speak. (She looks scornfully at him. Glo. I know so. - But, gentle lady Anne, - Teach not thy lips such scorn ; for it was made To leave this keen encounter of our wits,

For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. And fall somewhat into a slower method ; - If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, is not the causer of the timeless deaths

Lo! here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; Of these Plantagenets, Henry, and Edward, Which if thou please to hide in this true breast, As blameful as the executioner?

And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most accurs'd I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, effect.

And humbly beg the death upon my knee. Glo. Your beauty was the cause of that effect ;

(He lays his breast open ; she offers at it with Your beauty, which did haunt me in my sleep,

his sword. To undertake the death of all the world,

Nay, do not pause; for I did kill king Henry; So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me.

Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, Nay, now despatch ; 'twas I that stabb’d young EdThese nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.

ward : - (She again offers at his breast. Gle. These eyes could not endure that beauty's But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. wreck,

[She lets fall the sword. You should not blemish it, if I stood by :

Take up the sword again, or take up me. As all the world is cheered by the sun,

Anne. Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death, So I by that ; it is my day, my life,

I will not be thy executioner. Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death Glo. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. thy life!

Anne. I have already. Glo. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art Glo.

That was in thy rage : both.

Speak it again, and even with the word, Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee. This hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, Glut . It is a quarrel most unnatural,

Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love; To be reveng'd on him that loveth thee.

To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. Arne. It is a quarrel just and reasonable,

Anne. I would, I knew thy heart. To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband. Glo.

'Tis figur'd in Glo. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,

My tongue. Did it to help thee to a better husband.

Anne.

I fear me, both are false. Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the Glo.

Then man earth.

Was never true.
Glo. He lives, that loves you better than he could. Anne. Well, well, put up your sword.
Anne. Name him.

Glo. Say then, my peace is made.
Glo.
Plantagenet.

Anne.

That shall you know Anne.

Why, that was he. Hereafter. Gls. The self-same name, but one of better Glo. But shall I live in hope ? nature.

Anne.

All men, Anne. Where is he?

I hope, live so.
Glo.
Here: (She spits at hum.] Why Glo.

Vouchsafe to wear this ring. dost thou spit at me?

Anne. To take, is not to give. (She puts on the ring. dune. 'Would it were mortal poison, for thy Gly. Look, how this ring encompasscth thy finger, sake!

Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; Glo. Never came poison from so sweet a place. Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.

:

son,

And if thy poor devoted servant may

Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse : But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,

Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.

And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. Anne. What is it?

Q. Eliz. If he were dead, what would be ide of me? Glo. That it may please you leave these sad designs Grey. No other harm, but loss of such a lord. To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, Q. Eliz. The loss of such a lord includes all branns, And presently repair to Crosby-place :

Grey. The heavens lave bless'd you with a goodly Where - after I have solemnly interr’d, At Chertsey monast'ry, this noble king,

To be your comforter, when he is gone. And wet his grave with my repentant tears,

Q. Eliz. Ah, he is young; and his minority I will with all expedient duty see you :

Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloster, For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you, A man that loves not me, nor none of you. Grant me this boon.

Riv. Is it concluded, he shall be protector? Anne. With all my heart; and much it joys me too, Q. Eliz. It is determin'd, not concluded yet : To see you are become so penitent. —

But so it must be, if the king miscarry.
Tressel, and Berkley, go along with me.
Glo. Bid me farewell.

Enter BUCKINGHAM and Stanley.
Anne.

"Tis more than you deserve : Grey. Here come the lords of Buckingham and But, since you teach me how to flatter you,

Stanley Imagine I have said farewell already.

Buck. Good time of day unto your royal grace! [Ereunt Lady ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKLEY. Slan. God make your majesty joyful as you leave Glo. Take up the corse, sirs.

been ! Gent.

Towards Chertsey, noble lord ? Q. Eliz. The countess Richmond, good my bord Glo. No, to White-Friars; there attend my coming.

of Stanley, (Ereunt the rest, with the corse. To your good prayer will scarcely say - amen. Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ?

Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife, Was ever woman in this humour won ?

And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur’d, I'll have her, — but I will not keep her long. I hate not you for her proud arrogance. What! I, that kill'd her husband, and his father, Stan. I do beseech you, either not believe To take her in her heart's extremest hate;

The envious slanders of her false accusers; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,

Or, if she be accus'd on true report, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ;

Bear with her weakness, which, I think, proceeds With God, her conscience, and these bars against me, From wayward sickness, and no grounded malies And I no friends to back my suit withal,

Q. Eliz. Saw you the king to-dav, my lord of But the plain devil, and dissembling looks,

Stanley ? And yet to win her, - all the world to nothing ! Stan. But now, the duke of Buckingham, and I, Ha!

Are come froin visiting his majesty. Hath she forgot already that brave prince,

Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment, lords? Edward, her lord, whom I some three months since, Buck. Madam, good hope ; his grace speaks Stabb’d in my angry mood at Tewksbury?

cheerfully. A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,

Q. Eliz. God grant him health! did you confer Fram'd in the prodigality of nature,

with hiin? Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal, – Buck. Ay, madam : he desires to make atonement The spacious world cannot again afford :

Between the duke of Gloster and your brothers, And will she yet abase her eyes on me,

And between them and my lord chamberlain; That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince, And sent to warn them to his royal presence. And made her widow to a woful bed ?

Q. Eliz. 'Would all were well! — but that will On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety ?

never be; -
On me, that halt, and am mis-shapen thus ? I fear our happiness is at the height.
My dukedom to a beggarly denier,
I do mistake my person all this while :

Enter GLOSTER, Hastings, and Dorset. Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot,

Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not audure Myself to be a marvellous proper man.

it :I'll be at charges for a looking-glass;

Who are they, that complain unto the king, And entertain a score or two of tailors,

That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not? To study fashions to adorn my body :

By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly, Since I ain crept in favour with myself,

That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours I will maintain it with some little cost.

Because I cannot flatter, and speak fair, But, first, I'll turn yon' fellow in bis grave;

Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cos, And then return lamenting to my love.

Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,

I must be held a rancorous enemy. That I may see my shadow as I pass. [Erit. Cannot a plain wan live, and think no harm,

But thus his simple truth must be abusid SCENE III.- The same. A Room in the Palace. By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

Grey. To whom in all this presence speaks post Enler Queex ELIZABETH, LORD Rivers, anul Lord

grace ? GREY.

Glu. To thee, that hast nor honesty, nor grace Riv. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt, When Imve I injured thee? when done then wrong his majesty

Or thec? - or there?- or any of your factiva? Will soon recover his accustom'd licalth,

A plague upon you all! His royal grace, –