Richard III

Buc. My haire doth stand an end to heare her cursesRiu. And so doth mine, I muse why she's at libertie   Rich. I cannot blame her, by Gods holy mother,She hath had too much wrong, and I repentMy part thereof, that I haue done to herMar. I neuer did her any to my knowledge   Rich. Yet you haue all the vantage of her wrong:I was too hot, to do somebody good,That is too cold in thinking of it now:Marry as for Clarence, he is well repayed:He is frank'd vp to fatting for his paines,God pardon them, that are the cause thereof   Riu. A vertuous, and a Christian-like conclusionTo pray for them that haue done scath to vsRich. So do I euer, being well aduis'd.Speakes to himselfe.For had I curst now, I had curst my selfe.

Enter Catesby.

  Cates. Madam, his Maiesty doth call for you,And for your Grace, and yours my gracious LordQu. Catesby I come, Lords will you go with meeRiu. We wait vpon your Grace.

Exeunt. all but Gloster.

  Rich. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawle.The secret Mischeefes that I set abroach,I lay vnto the greeuous charge of others.Clarence, who I indeede haue cast in darknesse,I do beweepe to many simple Gulles,Namely to Derby, Hastings, Buckingham,And tell them 'tis the Queene, and her Allies,That stirre the King against the Duke my Brother.Now they beleeue it, and withall whet meTo be reueng'd on Riuers, Dorset, Grey.But then I sigh, and with a peece of Scripture,Tell them that God bids vs do good for euill:And thus I cloath my naked VillanieWith odde old ends, stolne forth of holy Writ,And seeme a Saint, when most I play the deuill.

Enter two murtherers.

But soft, heere come my Executioners,How now my hardy stout resolued Mates,Are you now going to dispatch this thing?  Vil. We are my Lord, and come to haue the Warrant,That we may be admitted where he is   Ric. Well thought vpon, I haue it heare about me:When you haue done, repayre to Crosby place;But sirs be sodaine in the execution,Withall obdurate, do not heare him pleade;For Clarence is well spoken, and perhappesMay moue your hearts to pitty, if you marke him   Vil. Tut, tut, my Lord, we will not stand to prate,Talkers are no good dooers, be assur'd:We go to vse our hands, and not our tongues   Rich. Your eyes drop Mill-stones, when Fooles eyesfall Teares:I like you Lads, about your businesse straight.Go, go, dispatchVil. We will my Noble Lord.

Scena Quarta

Enter Clarence and Keeper.

Keep. Why lookes your Grace so heauily to day   Cla. O, I haue past a miserable night,So full of fearefull Dreames, of vgly sights,That as I am a Christian faithfull man,I would not spend another such a nightThough 'twere to buy a world of happy daies:So full of dismall terror was the time   Keep. What was your dream my Lord, I pray you tel me  Cla. Me thoughts that I had broken from the Tower,And was embark'd to crosse to Burgundy,And in my company my Brother Glouster,Who from my Cabin tempted me to walke,Vpon the Hatches: There we look'd toward England,And cited vp a thousand heauy times,During the warres of Yorke and LancasterThat had befalne vs. As we pac'd alongVpon the giddy footing of the Hatches,Me thought that Glouster stumbled, and in fallingStrooke me (that thought to stay him) ouer-boord,Into the tumbling billowes of the maine.O Lord, me thought what paine it was to drowne,What dreadfull noise of water in mine eares,What sights of vgly death within mine eyes.Me thoughts, I saw a thousand fearfull wrackes:A thousand men that Fishes gnaw'd vpon:Wedges of Gold, great Anchors, heapes of Pearle,Inestimable Stones, vnvalewed Iewels,All scattred in the bottome of the Sea,Some lay in dead-mens Sculles, and in the holesWhere eyes did once inhabit, there were crept(As 'twere in scorne of eyes) reflecting Gemmes,That woo'd the slimy bottome of the deepe,And mock'd the dead bones that lay scattred by   Keep. Had you such leysure in the time of deathTo gaze vpon these secrets of the deepe?  Cla. Me thought I had, and often did I striueTo yeeld the Ghost: but still the enuious FloodStop'd in my soule, and would not let it forthTo find the empty, vast, and wand'ring ayre:But smother'd it within my panting bulke,Who almost burst, to belch it in the Sea   Keep. Awak'd you not in this sore Agony?  Clar. No, no, my Dreame was lengthen'd after life.O then, began the Tempest to my Soule.I past (me thought) the Melancholly Flood,With that sowre Ferry-man which Poets write of,Vnto the Kingdome of perpetuall Night.The first that there did greet my Stranger-soule,Was my great Father-in-Law, renowned Warwicke,Who spake alowd: What scourge for Periurie,Can this darke Monarchy affoord false Clarence?And so he vanish'd. Then came wand'ring by,A Shadow like an Angell, with bright hayreDabbel'd in blood, and he shriek'd out alowdClarence is come, false, fleeting, periur'd Clarence,That stabb'd me in the field by Tewkesbury:Seize on him Furies, take him vnto Torment.With that (me thought) a Legion of foule FiendsInuiron'd me, and howled in mine earesSuch hiddeous cries, that with the very Noise,I (trembling) wak'd, and for a season after,Could not beleeue, but that I was in Hell,Such terrible Impression made my Dreame   Keep. No maruell Lord, though it affrighted you,I am affraid (me thinkes) to heare you tell it   Cla. Ah Keeper, Keeper, I haue done these things(That now giue euidence against my Soule)For Edwards sake, and see how he requits mee.O God! if my deepe prayres cannot appease thee,But thou wilt be aueng'd on my misdeeds,Yet execute thy wrath in me alone:O spare my guiltlesse Wife, and my poore children.Keeper, I prythee sit by me a-while,My Soule is heauy, and I faine would sleepe   Keep. I will my Lord, God giue your Grace good rest.

Enter Brakenbury the Lieutenant.

  Bra. Sorrow breakes Seasons, and reposing houres,Makes the Night Morning, and the Noon-tide night:Princes haue but their Titles for their Glories,An outward Honor, for an inward Toyle,And for vnfelt ImaginationsThey often feele a world of restlesse Cares:So that betweene their Titles, and low Name,There's nothing differs, but the outward fame.

Enter two Murtherers.

  1.Mur. Ho, who's heere?  Bra. What would'st thou Fellow? And how camm'stthou hither   2.Mur. I would speak with Clarence, and I came hitheron my Legges   Bra. What so breefe?  1. 'Tis better (Sir) then to be tedious:Let him see our Commission, and talke no more.Reads  Bra. I am in this, commanded to deliuerThe Noble Duke of Clarence to your hands.I will not reason what is meant heereby,Because I will be guiltlesse from the meaning.There lies the Duke asleepe, and there the Keyes.Ile to the King, and signifie to him,That thus I haue resign'd to you my charge.

Enter.

  1 You may sir, 'tis a point of wisedome:Far you well2 What, shall we stab him as he sleepes   1 No: hee'l say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes  2 Why he shall neuer wake, vntill the great Iudgementday1 Why then hee'l say, we stab'd him sleeping2 The vrging of that word Iudgement, hath bred a kinde of remorse in me   1 What? art thou affraid?  2 Not to kill him, hauing a Warrant,But to be damn'd for killing him, from the whichNo Warrant can defend me1 I thought thou had'st bin resolute2 So I am, to let him liue1 Ile backe to the Duke of Glouster, and tell him so2 Nay, I prythee stay a little: I hope this passionate humor of mine, will change, It was wont to hold me but while one tels twenty   1 How do'st thou feele thy selfe now?  2 Some certaine dregges of conscience are yet withinmee1 Remember our Reward, when the deed's done2 Come, he dies: I had forgot the Reward1 Where's thy conscience now2 O, in the Duke of Glousters purse   1 When hee opens his purse to giue vs our Reward,thy Conscience flyes out   2 'Tis no matter, let it goe: There's few or none willentertaine it

1 What if it come to thee againe? 2 Ile not meddle with it, it makes a man a Coward: A man cannot steale, but it accuseth him: A man cannot Sweare, but it Checkes him: A man cannot lye with his Neighbours Wife, but it detects him. 'Tis a blushing shamefac'd spirit, that mutinies in a mans bosome: It filles a man full of Obstacles. It made me once restore a Pursse of Gold that (by chance) I found: It beggars any man that keepes it: It is turn'd out of Townes and Citties for a dangerous thing, and euery man that means to liue well, endeuours to trust to himselfe, and liue without it

   1 'Tis euen now at my elbow, perswading me not tokill the Duke   2 Take the diuell in thy minde, and beleeue him not:He would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh1 I am strong fram'd, he cannot preuaile with me

2 Spoke like a tall man, that respects thy reputation. Come, shall we fall to worke? 1 Take him on the Costard, with the hiltes of thy Sword, and then throw him into the Malmesey-Butte in the next roome

2 O excellent deuice; and make a sop of him1 Soft, he wakes2 Strike1 No, wee'l reason with himCla. Where art thou Keeper? Giue me a cup of wine2 You shall haue Wine enough my Lord anonCla. In Gods name, what art thou? 1 A man, as you areCla. But not as I am Royall1 Nor you as we are, LoyallCla. Thy voice is Thunder, but thy looks are humble1 My voice is now the Kings, my lookes mine owne   Cla. How darkly, and how deadly dost thou speake?Your eyes do menace me: why looke you pale?

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