Obrázky stránek
PDF
ePub
[ocr errors]

Prince. I know my duty, you are all undutiful: [George, Lascivious Edward, and thou perjur'd And thou misshapen Dick,-I tell you all, I am your better, traitors as ye are ;And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine. K. Edw. Take that, the likeness of this railer here. [Stabs him. Glo. Sprawl'st thou? take that, to end thy agony. [GLO. stabs him. Clar. And there's for twitting me with perjury. [CLAR. stabs him.

Q. Mar. Ŏ, kill me too!
Glo. Marry, and shall.
K. Edw. Hold, Richard,
done too much.

[Offers to kill her. hold, for we have

Glo. Why should she live, to fill the world

with words?*

K. Edw. What! doth she swoon? use means for her recovery.

Glo. Clarence, excuse me to the king my brother;

I'll hence to London on a serious matter:
Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news.
Clar. What? what?

Glo. The Tower, the Tower!

[Exit. Q. Mar. O, Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy mother, boy! [derers!Canst thou not speak?--O traitors! murThey, that stabb'd Cæsar, shed no blood at all, Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame, If this foul deed were by, to equal it. He was a man; this, in respect, a child; And men ne'er spend their fury on a child. [it? What's worse than murderer, that I may name No, no; my heart will burst, an if I speak :And I will speak, that so my heart may burst. Butchers and villains, bloody cannibals! How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd! You have no children, butchers! if you had, The thought of them would have stirr❜d up re

morse:

-

But, if you ever chance to have a child,
Look in his youth to have him so cut off,
As, deathsmer! vou have rid this sweet young
prince!

K. Ew. Away with her; go, bear her hence perforce.

Q. Mar. Nay, never bear me hence, despatch me here; [death: Here sheath thy sword, I'll pardon thee my What! wilt thou not?-then, Clarence, do it thou.

Clar. By heaven, I will not do thee so much

ease.

Q. Mar. Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.

Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear, I would

not do it.

Q. Mar. Ay, but thou usest to forswear thy"Twas sin before, but now 'tis charity. [self; What! wilt thou not? where is that devil's butcher,

Hard-favour'd Richard? Richard, where art [thou? Thou art not here: Murder is thy alms-deed; Petitioners for blood thou ne'er put'st back. K. Edw. Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her hence.

Q. Mar. So come to you, and yours, as to this prince! Exit, led out forcibly. K. Edw. Where's Richard gone? Clar. To London, all in post; and, as I guess, To make a bloody supper in the Tower. K. Edw. He's sudden, if a thing comes in his head.

Dispute, contention.

+ She alludes to the deser

Now march we hence: discharge the common

sort

[don, With pay and thanks, and let's away to LonAnd see our gentle queen how well she fares; By this, I hope, she hath a son for me. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-London.-A Room in the Tower. King HENRY is discovered sitting with a Book in his Hand, the Lieutenant attending. Enter GLOSTER.

Glo. Good day, my lord! What, at your book so hard?

K. Hen. Ay, my good lord: My lord, I should say rather;

Good Gloster, and good devil, were alike, 'Tis sin to flatter, good was little better: And both preposterous; therefore, not good

lord.

Glo. Sirrah, leave us to ourselves: we must confer. [Exit Lieutenant. K, Hen. So flies the reckless* shepherd from the wolf:

So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece,
And next his throat unto the butcher's knife.

What scene of death hath Roscius now to act?
Glo. Suspicion always haunts the guilty
mind;
The thief doth fear each bush an officer.

K. Hen. The bird, that hath been limed in a bush, [bush: With trembling wings misdoubteth every Have now the fatal object in my eye, And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird, Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught,

and kill'd.

Glo. Why, what a peevisht fool was that of Crete, That taught his son the office of a fowl? And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown'd.

K. Hen. I, Dædalus; my poor boy, Icarus 、 Thy father, Minos, that denied our course; The sun, that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy, Thy brother Edward; and thyself, the sea, Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life. Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words! Than can my ears that tragic history.My breast can better brook thy dagger's point, But wherefore dost thou come? is't for my life!

Glo. Think'st thou, I am an executioner? K. Hen. A persecutor, I am sure, thou art; Why, then thou art an executioner. If murdering innocents be executing,

Glo. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption. K. Hen. Hadst thou been kill'd, when first thou didst presume, Thou hadst not liv'd to kill a son of mine. Which now mistrust no parcels of my fear; And thus I prophesy,-that many a thousand, And many an old man's sigh, and many a widow's,

Men for their sons, wives for their husbanus' And many an orphan's water-standing eye. --, fate,

Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born. And orphans for their parents timeless death,The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign; The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time; Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down

trees;

The raven rook'd|| her on the chimney's top, And chattering pies in dismal discords sung Careles. To misdoubt is to suspect danger, to fear. t Childish. No part of what my fears presage. To rack signified to squat down or lodge on any thing.

2 N

Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, And yet brought forth less than a mother's To wit, an indigest deformed lump, [hope; Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree. [born, Teeth hadst thou in thy head, when thou wast To signify,-thou cam'st to bite the world: And, if the rest be true which I have heard, Thou cam'st.

Glo. I'll hear no more;-Die, prophet, in thy speech; [Stabs him.

For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd. K. Hen. Ay, and for much more slaughter after this.

O God! forgive my sins, and pardon thee!

[Dies. Glo. What, will the aspiring blood of Lan

caster

mounted.

Sink in the ground? I thought it would have [death! See, how my sword weeps for the poor king's O, may such purple tears be always shed From those that wish the downfal of our house!

If any spark of life be yet remaining,
Down, down to hell; and say I sent thee
thither,
[Stabs him again.
I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.-
Indeed, 'tis true, that Henry told me of;
For I have often heard my mother say,
I came into the world with my legs forward:
Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste,
And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right?
The midwife wonder'd; and the women cried,
O, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!
And so I was; which plainly signified-
That I should snarl, and bite, and play the
dog.

[so, Then since the heavens have shap'd my body Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it. I have no brother, I am like no brother: And this word-love, which greybeards call divine,

Be resident in men like one another,
And not in me; I am myself alone.- [light;
Clarence beware; thou keep'st me from the
But I will sort a pitchy day for thee:
For I will buz abroad such prophecies,
That Edward shall be fearful of his life;
And then, to purge his fear, I'll be thy death.
King Henry, and the prince his son, are gone:
Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest;
Counting myself but bad, till I be best.-
I'll throw thy body in another room,
And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom.

[Exit.

SCENE VII.-The same.-A Room in the Palace.

King EDWARD is_discovered sitting on his Throne; Queen ELIZABETH with the infunt Prince, CLARENCE, GLOSTER, HASTINGS, and others, near him.

K. Edw. Once more we sit in England's royal throne,

* Select.

Re-purchas'd with the blood of enemies.
What valiant foe-men, like to autumn's corn,
Have we mow'd down, in tops of all their
pride?

Three dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd
For hardy and undoubted champions:
Two Cliffords, as the father and the son,
And two Northumberlands; two braver men
Ne'er spurr'd their coursers at the trumpet's
sound:

With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and Montague,

That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion,
And made the forest tremble when they roar'd.
Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat,
And made our footstool of security.-
Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy:-
Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles, and my-
self,
[night;

Have in our armours watch'd the winter's
Went all a foot in summer's scalding heat,
That thou might'st repossess the crown in
peace;

And of our labours thou shalt reap the gain. Glo. I'll blast his harvest, if your head were laid;

For yet I am not look'd on in the world.
This shoulder was ordain'd so thick, to heave;
And heave it shall some weight, or break my
back:-

Work thou the way,-and thou shalt execute. [Aside.

K. Edw. Clarence, and Gloster, love my

lovely queen;

And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both.
Clar. The duty that I owe unto your majesty,
I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe.
K. Edw. Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy
brother, thanks.

Glo. And, that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st, Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit:To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his master;

And cried-all hail! when as he meant. -all harm.

Aside.

K. Edw. Now am I seated as my soul de. lights,

Having my country's peace, and brothers loves.

Clar. What will your grace have done with
Margaret?

Reignier, her father, to the king of France
Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem,
And hither have they sent it for her ransom.
K. Edw. Away with her, and waft her hence

to France. [time And now what rests, but that we spend the With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows, Such as befit the pleasures of the court?Sound, drums and trumpets!-farewell, sour

annoy!

For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.

*Public shows.

[Exeunt

[blocks in formation]

ACT I.

SCENE I.-London.-A Street.
Enter GLOSTER.

Glo. Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds, that lowr'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 chang'd to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled
front;

And now, instead of mounting barbed+ steeds,
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 shap'd 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;

that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time † Armed.

* Dances.

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 time;
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,
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.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul! here Cla-

rence comes.

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

* Preparations for mischief

[blocks in formation]

yours;

He should, for that, commit your godfathers:-
O, belike, his majesty hath some intent,
That you shall be new christen'd in the Tower.
But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know?
Clar. Yea, Richard, when 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 thought, that I am he:
These, as I learn, and such like toys as these,
Have mov'd his highness to commit me now.
Glo. Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by

women

"Tis not the king, that sends you to the Tower; My lady Grey, his wife, Clarence, 'tis she, That tempers him to this extremity.

Was it not she, and that good man of worship, Anthony Woodeville, her brother there, [er; That made him send lord Hastings to the TowFrom whence this present day he is deliver'd? We are not safe, Clarence, we are not safe. Clar. By heaven, I think, there is no man se[heralds But the queen's kindred, and night-walking That trudge betwixt the king and mistress

cure,

Shore.

Heard you not, what an humble suppliant
Lord Hastings was to her for his delivery?

Glo. 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:
The jealous o'er-worn widow, and herself,t
Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewo-
Are mighty gossips in this monarchy. [men,
Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon

me;

His majesty hath straitly given in charge,
That no man shall have private conference,
Of what degree soever, with his brother.

Glo. Even so? an please your worship, Brakenbury,

You may partake of any thing we say:
We speak no treason, man;-We say, the king
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 the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks:
How say you, Sir? can you deny all this?
Brak. With this, my lord, myself have
naught to do.

Glo. Naught to do with mistress Shore? I
tell thee, fellow,

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

Brak. What one, my lord?

Glo. Her husband, knave:-Would'st thou betray me?

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

* Fancies.

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

Glo. 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-sis-
I will perform it to enfranchise you. [ter,-
Mean time, this deep disgrace in brotherhood,
Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
Glo. Well, your imprisonment shall not be
I will deliver you, or else lie for you: [long;
Mean time, have patience.

Clar. I must perforce; farewell.

[Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard.

Glo. 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.
But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hast-
ings?

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

*

If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,-
Whilst I a while 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 remnant of that royal blood!
Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost,
To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,
Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son,
Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these
wounds!

Lo, in these windows, that let forth thy life,
I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes :-
O, cursed be the hand that made these holes!
Cursed the heart, that had the heart to do it!
Cursed the blood, that let this blood from
hence!

More direful hap betide that hated wretch,
That makes us wretched by the death of thee,
Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,
Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!
If ever he have child, abortive be it,
Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,
Whose ugly and unnatural aspect
May fright the hopeful mother at the view;
And that be heir to his unhappiness!
If ever he have wife, let her be made
More miserable by the death of him, [thee!-
Than I am made by my young lord, and
Come, now, toward Chertsey with your holy
load,

Taken from Paul's to be interred there;
And, still as you are weary of the weight,
Rest you, whiles I lament king Henry's

corse.

[The Bearers take up the corpse, and advance. Enter GLOSTER.

Glo. Stay you, that bear the corse, and set it down.

Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend,

To stop devoted charitable deeds?

Glo. Sweet saint, for charity be not so curs!. Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not;

For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,
Fill'd it with cursing cries, and deep ex-
claims.

Behold this pattern of thy butcheries:-
If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,
O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds
Open their congeal'd mouths, and bleed
afresh!-

Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity;
For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood
From cold and empty veins, where no blood
dwells;

Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural,
Provokes this deluge most unnatural.-
O God, which this blood madest, revenge his
death!

O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge
his death!

Either, heaven, with lightning strike the murderer dead,

Or, earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick;
As thou dost swallow up this good king's
blood,

Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered!
Glo. Lady, you know no rules of charity,
Which renders good for bad, blessings for

curses.

Anne. Villain, thou know'st no law of God

nor man;

No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity.

Glo. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.

Anne. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!

Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so

angry.

Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,
Of these supposed evils, to give me leave,
By circumstance, but to acquit myself.

Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd'infection of a man,
For these known evils, but to give me leave,
By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self.

Glo. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let
me have

Some patient leisure to excuse myself.
Anne. Fouler than heart can think thee,
thou canst make

No excuse current, but to hang thyself.
Glo. By such despair, 1 should accuse my-
self.

Anne. And, by despairing, shalt thou stand
excus'd;

Glo. Villains, set down the corse; or, by For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,

Saint Paul,

I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.

1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the collin pass.

Glo. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou when I
command:

Advance thy halbert higher than my breast,
Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot,
And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy bold-

ness. [The bearers set down the coffin. Anne. What, do you tremble? are you all afraid?

Alas, I blame you not: for you are mortal,
And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.-
Avaunt thou dreadful minister of hell!
Thou hadst but pow over his mortal body,
His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be
gone.

* Funereal.

That didst unworthy slaughter upon others.
Glo. Say, that I slew them not?
Anne. Why then, they are not dead:
But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by
thee.

Glo. I did not kill your husband.
Anne. Why, then he is alive.

Glo. Nay, he is dead; and slain by Ed-
ward's hand.

Anne. In thy soul's throat thou liest; queen
Margaret saw

Thy murderous faulchion smoking in his blood;
The which thou once didst bend against her
breast,

But that thy brothers beat aside the point.
Glo. I was provoked by her sland'rous
tongue,
[ders
That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoul

» Example.

« PředchozíPokračovat »