THE TRAGEDY OF

KING RICHARD THE THIRD.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. KING EDWARD the Fourth.

SIR RICHARD RATCLIFF.
EDWARD, Prince of

SIR WILLIAM CATESBY.
Wales, afterwards
King Edward V.,

sons to the SIR JAMES TYRREL.

SIR JAMES BLOUNT. RICHARD, Duke of

King.

Sir WALTER HERBERT. York,

Sir ROBERT BRAKENBURY, Lieu. George, Duke of

tenant of the Tower. Clarence,

CHRISTOPHER URSWICK, a priest. RICHARD, Duke of brothers to Another Priest.

Gloucester, after- the King TRESSEL and BERKELEY, gentlewards King Rich

men attending on the Lady ard III.,

Anne. A young son of Clarence.

Lord Mayor of London. Sheriff HENRY, Earl of Richmond, after- of Wiltshire.

wards King Henry VII. CARDINAL BOC RCHIER, Archbishop ELIZABETH, queen to King Edof Canterbury.

ward IV. Thomas ROTHERHAM, Archbishop MargARET, widow of King Henry of York,

VI. Joux MORTON, Bishop of Ely. DUCHESS OF YORK, mother to King DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

Edward IV. DUKE OF NORFOLK.

LADY ANNE, widow of Edward EARL OF SURREY, his son.

Prince of Wales, son to King EARL RIVERS, brother to Eliza- Henry VI.: afterwards married beth.

to Richard. MARQUIS OF Dorset and LORD A young Daughter of Clarence GREY, sons to Elizabeth.

(MARGARET PLANTAGENET). EARL OF OXFORD. LORD HASTINGS.

Ghosts of those murdered by LORD STANLEY, called also EARL Richard III, Lords and other OF DERBY.

Attendants; a Pursuivant, ScriLORD LOVEL.

vener, Citizens,

Murderers SIR THOMAS VAUGHAX.

Messengers, Soldiers, &c.
SCENE: England.

ACT I.
SCENE I. London. A street.
Enter RICHARD, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, solus.
Glou. Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;

And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; ! And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds

10 To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; 1, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish’d, sent before my time

20 Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the timc, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun And descant on mine own deformity: And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain

30 And hate the idle pleasures of these days. Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams, To set my brother Clarence and the king In deadly hate the one against the other: And if King Edward be as true and just As I am subtle, false and treacherous, This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up, About a prophecy, which says that G Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.

40 Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here Clarence comes.

Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY.
Brother, good day: what means this armed guard
That waits upon your grace?
Clar.

His majesty,
Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed
This conduct to convey me to the Tower.

Glou. Upon what cause?

Clar.

Because my name is George.
Glou. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours;
He should, for that, commit your godfatliers:
0, belike his majesty hath some intent
That you shall be new-christend in the Tower.

50 But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know?

Clar. Yea, Richard, wlicn I know; for I protest
As yet I do not: but, as I can learn,
He hearkens after prophecies and dreams;
And from the cross-row plucks the letter G,
And says a wizard told him that by G
His issue disinherited should be;
And, for my name of George begins with G,
It follows in his thougiit that I am he.
These, as I learo, ind such like toys as these

60 Have moved his highness to commit me now.

Glou. Wly, this it is, when men are ruled by women: "Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower; My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she That tempers biin to this extremity. Was it not she and that good man of worship, Anthony Woodville, her brother there, That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower, From whence this present day he is deliver'd? We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe.

70
Clar. By heaven, I think there's no man is secure
But the queen's kindred and night-walking heralds
That trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore.
Heard ye not what an humble suppliant
Lord Hastings was to her for his delivery?

Glou. Humbly complaining to her deity
Got my lord chamberlain his liberty.
I'll tell you what; I think it is our way,
If we will keep in favour with the king,
To be her men and wear her livery:

80
The jealous o'erworn widow and herself,
Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen,
Are mighty gossips in this monarchy.

Brak. I beseech your graces botli to pardon me;
His majesty bath straitly given in charge
That no man shall have private conference,
Of what degree soever, with his brother.

Glou. Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury,
You may partake of any thing we say:
We speak no treason, man: we say the king

90 Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous;

We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue;
And that the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks:
How say you, sir? can you deny all this?

Brak. With this, my lord, myself have nought to do.
Glou. Nought to do with Mistress Shore! I tell thee,

fellow, He that doth naught with her, excepting one, Were best he do it secretly, alone.

100 Brak. What one, my lord ? Glou. Her husband," knave: wouldst thou betray me?

Brak. I beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal Forbear your conference with the noble duke.

Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.

Glou. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey.
Brother, farewell: I will unto the king;
And whatsoever you will employ me in,
Were it to call King Edward's widow sister,
I will perform it to enfranchise you.

110 Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood Touches me deeper than you can imagine.

Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.

Glou. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;
I will deliver you, or else lie for you:
Meantime, have patience.
Clar.

I must perforce. Fareweil.

[Ereunt Clarence, Brakenbury, and Guard. Glou. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return, Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so, That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, If heaven will take the present at our hands.

120 But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings?

Enter Lord HASTINGS.
Hast

. Good time of day unto my gracious lord!
Glou. As much unto my good lord chamberlain!
Well are you welcome to the open air.
How hath your lordship brook d imprisonment?

Hlast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must:
But I shall live, my lord. to give them thanks
That were the cause of my imprisonment.

Glou. No doubt, no doubt; and so suall Clarence too; For they that were your enemies are his,

130 And have prevail'd as much on him as you.

Hast. More pity that the eagle should be mew'd, While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.

Glou. What news abroad?

Hast. No news so bad abroad as this at home;
The king is sickly, weak and melancholy,
And his physicians fear him mightily.

Glou. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed.
0, he hath kept an evil diet long,
And overmuch consumed his royal person:

140 'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. What, is he in his bed?

Hast. He is.
Glou. Go you before, and I will follow you.

[Erit Hastings.
He cannot live, I hope; and must not die
Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven.
I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments;
And, if I fail not in my deep intent,
Clarence hath not another day to live:

150 Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy, And leave the world for me to bustle in! For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter. What though I kill'd her liusband and her father? The readiest way to make the wench amends Is to become her husband and her father: The which will I; not all so much for love As for another secret close intent, By marrying her which I must reach unto. But yet I run before my borse to market:

160 Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns: When they are gone, then must I count my gains. [Erit.

Scene II. The same. Another street.
Enter the corpse of King HENRY the Sixth, Gentlemen with

halberds to guard it; LADY ANNE being the mourner.
Anne. Set down, set down your honourable load,
If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,
Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament
The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster,
Poor key cold figure of a holy king!
Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!
Thou bloodless remuant of that royal blood!
Be it lawful that I invocate thy glost,
To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,
Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son,
Stabb'd by the selfsame hand that made these wounds!
Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life,
I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.

10.