.-iV ,-0' ■u .\^- '•^- v .-f>^ > «>■'»* '^'c r'?^- "^ .-^ ^^ x^^ ^"^^^ >^^^! aV^^ ■^^?^^ rO^ cf-. / .-^'' ^ "o ^* 5^.- -s^" 'U,. .% <^'' "^ '^ « '■''o. U ^'^ s^A o>' 1-0' ■ •^^ ^;^'A ^^^ %-^^^,^ ^ ^. O. rP^ A^^-^' •%. .>" c^ \d^ k'i;^v^'/ j:^ """^ \.'^?vS •^^^^ '^^^z , ^ ^, -> t; ^ " ■^^ =-o. ,0 o^ s^ VL^^ "c ^^ ^\.#!2^' ^ -^ r ?^ ^^ C.^ * ,-^^- -^ .^^^ phrarg, department of the interior. SHAKESPEARE'S TRAGEDY OF KING RICHARD THE THIRD. Edited, with Notes, WILLIAM J. ROLFE, Litt.D. FORMERLY HEAT) MASTER OF THE HIGH SCH001-, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. IV/T/f ENGRAVINGS. ^epartmeni f the ^nteriop. NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE. 1895. ENGLISH CLASSICS. Edited by WM. J. ROLFE, Lttt. D. Illustrated. T6mo, Cloth, 56 cents pet volume ; Paper, 40 cents per volume. Shakesi'kare's Works. Tlie Merchant of Venice. Richard 11 L Othello. Henry VI IL Julius Caesar. King Lear. A Midsumnier-Nighl's Dream. The Taming of the Shrew. Macbeth. AH 's Wen\hat Ends Well. Hamlet. Coriolanus. Much Ado about Nothing. . The Comedy of Errors. Romeo and Juliet. Cymbeline. As You Like It. Antony and Cleopatra. The Tempest. Measure for Measure. Twelfth Night. Merry Wives of Windsor. l"he Winter's Tale. Love's Labour 's Lost. Kins John. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Richard 11. Timon of Athens. Henry IV. Part L Troiliis and Cressida. Henry IV. Part IL Pericles, Prince of Tyre. Henry V. The Two Noble Kinsmen. Henry VI. Part I. Venus and Adonis, Luciece, etc. Henry VI Part II. Sonnets. Henry VI. Part III. Titus Andronicus. Goldsmith's Select Poems. E rowning's Select Poems. Gray's Select Poems. E rowning's Select Dramas. Minor Poems of John Milton. I\ Iacaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome Vv^okdsworth's Select Poems. Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. £t^^ T/te above ivorks are for sale by all booksellers^ or they will be sent by \ Harfek & Brothers to any add >ess on receipt of price as quoted. If ordered sent by mail, \o per cent, shoidd be added to the price to cover cost 1 of postage. JUN 6 1907 Copyright, 1884, ^y Harper & Brothers. CONTENTS. PACK Introduction to King Richard the Third 9 T. The History of the Play 9 II. The Sources of the Plot 12 III. Critical Comments on the Play 14 KING RICHARD THE THIRD 35 Act 1 37 '^ II 72 " III 87 " IV 115 " V 146 Notes 165 IHE BLOODY TOWER. ^^^^C--^ ^^-1 "^k^a. BOSWORTH FIELD. INTRODUCTION KING RICHARD THE THIRD. I. THE HISTORY OF THE PLAY. The earliest known edition of the play is a quarto printed in 1597, with the following title-page : The Tragedy of | King Richard the third. | Containing, i His treacherous Plots against his brother Clarence : | the pittiefull murther of his innocent nephewes : | his tyrannicall vsurpation : with the whole course | of his detested life, and most deserued death. | As it hath beene lately Acted by the | Right honourable the Lord Chamber- | laine his seruants. | AT LONDON | Printed by Valentine Sims, for Andrew lO RICHARD III. Wise, I dwelling in Paules Chuch-yard, at the | Signe of the Angell. I 1597. The play had been entered on the Stationers' Registers on the 20th of October, 1597, by Wise, under the title of The Tragedie of Kinge Richard the Third, with the death of the Duke of Clarence." A second quarto edition was published the following year, with the addition oi'^By William Shake-speare '' on the title- page ; in other respects it is a reprint of the first. Other quarto editions appeared in 1602, 1605, 1612, and 1622. All four are said to be "newly augmented," but they contain nothing that is not found in the 2d quarto, unless it be addi- tional errors of the press."^ The text of the play in the ist folio differs materially from that of the quartos. Besides many little changes in expres- sion, it contains several passages — one of more than fifty lines — not found in the earlier texts ; while, on the other hand, it omits sundry lines — in some cases, essential to the context — given in the quartos. The play is, moreover, one of the worst printed in the folio, and the quartos often help us in correcting the typographical errors. W^hich is on the whole the better text, and what is the relation of the one to the other, are questions which have been much disputed, but probably will never be satisfactorily settled. The Cambridge editors remark : " The respective origin and authority of the ist quarto and 1st folio texts oi Richard III. is perhaps the most difficult question which presents itself to an editor of Shakespeare. In the case of most of the plays a brief survey leads him to form a definite judgment ; in this, the most at- tentive examination scarcely enables him to propose with confidence a hypothetical conclusion." Staunton says : " the diversity has proved, and will continue to prove, a source of * A seventh quarto edition was printed in 1629, not from the folio of 1623, but from the quarto of 1622. An eighth quarto, a reprint of the seventh, appeared in 1634. INTRODUCTION. H incalculable trouble and perpetual dispute to the editors, since, although it is admitted by every one properly qualified to judge, that a reasonably perfect text can only be formed from the two versions, there will always be a conflict of opin- ions regarding some of the readings." Furnivall considers "the making of the best text " of the play " the hardest puz- zle in Shakspere-editing." No7i 710 strum ta?itas compone7'e lites. All that w^e can do is to take one of the texts as a basis — we are inclined, with Collier, Knight, Verplanck, Hudson, and AVhite, to choose the folio ^ — and to use the other, according to our best judg- ment, in correcting and amending it. All variations of any importance will be recorded in the Notes. The date of the play was fixed by Malone in 1593, and Dowden considers that it "can hardly be later." White is inclined to put it in the same year, "or early in 1594." Fur- nivall and Stokes favour 1594 ; Fleay {Manual) says "prob- ably 1595 ;" w^hile Dyce (2d ed.) thinks it was "perhaps not long before 1597, the date of the earliest quarto."t If the allusion to "Richard" in the 22d of John Weever's Epi- . grainmes^ addressed "Ad Gulielmum Shakespeare," is to Richard III. ^^s the critics generally agree, the date of the play cannot w^ell be later than 1595, as the Epigrarnmes., ac- cording to Drake and Ingleby, were written in 1595, though not printed until 1599. The internal evidence is in favour of as early a date as 1594. Stokes remarks: "There are many signs of compar- atively early work: for instance, the prologue-like speech * Malone preferred the quarto, as do the Cambridge editors, Staunton, and (in his 2d ed.) Dyce. For a very full discussion of the relations of the tvvo texts, see the papers by Spedding and Peckersgill in the Trans- actions of the New Shakspere Society^ 1875-76, pp. I- 1 24. t Collier also (2d ed.), referring to Malone's date of 1593, is "disposed to place it nearer the time of its original publication in 1597;" though Stokes quotes him as agreeing with Malone. 12 RICHARD II L with which the phiy opens ; ^ the scenes {fTrtxofwOiai) where the trilogy of the common lamentation of the women (ii. 2 and iv. i) alternates like a chorus, dramatic truth being sac- rificed to the lyric or epic form, and to conceits in the style of the pastoral Italian poetry' (Gerviaius) ; the overstraining of many of the characters; and the analysis of motive some- times exhibited." Oechelhauser (Essay ilber Richa7'd III.) observes that this play marks "the significant boundary- stone which separates the works of Shakespeare's youth from the immortal works of the period of his fuller splen- dour.'"^ II. THE SOURCES OF THE PLOT. Shakespeare found his materials in Holinshed and Hall, who for this portion of English history were chiefiy indebted to Sir Thomas More. Dowden {Primer., p. 79) remarks : " Holinshed's account gives tw^o views of Richard's char- acter : one in the portion of history previous to the death of Edward IV., in which Richard is painted in colours not so deeply, so diabolically black; and the second, in which he appears as he does in Shakspere's play. This second and darker representation of Richard was derived by Holinshed from Sir Thomas More's History of Edward IV, attd Rich- ard I IL^'^x\A More himself probably derived it from Cardi- nal Morton, chancellor of Henry VHI. and the enemy of Richard." A Latin tragedy on some of the events of Richard's reign, wTitten by Dr. Legge, was acted at Cambridge before 1583; and an English play, probably written before Shakespeare's, was published in 1594, with the following title-page: "The True Tragedie of Richard the third : Wherein is showne the * See also extract from Furnivall, p. 33 below. In Guesses at Tritth, Augustus Hare argues that the fact that Richard boldly acknowledges his deliberate wickedness, instead of endeavouring to palliate or excuse it like Edmund or lago, shows that Shakespeare wrote this drama in his youth. IN TROD UCTION. 13 death of Edward the fourth, with the smotherhig of the two yoong Princes in the Tower : With a lamentable ende of Shores wife, an example for all wicked women. And lastly, the coniunction and ioyning of the two noble Houses, Lan- caster and Yorke. As it was playd by the Queenes Males- ties Players. London Printed by Thomas Creede, and are to be sold by William Barley, at his shop in Newgate Market, neare Christ Church doore. 1594.'"^ Shakespeare certainly made no use of the former of these plays, and little, if any, of the latter. With regard to " the degree of dramatic invention to be ascribed to the poet in this brilliant delineation of the most splendid theatrical villain of any stage," Verplanck remarks : '' More had given the dramatist nearly all his incidents, and many of those minor details of Richard's person, manner, and character' which give life and individuality to his portrait. He, and the subsequent chroniclers who built upon his work, had shown Richard as a bold, able, ambitious, bad man — they had described him as malicious, deceitful, envious, and cruel. The poet has made the usurper a nobler and loftier spirit than the historians had done, while he deepened every dark shadow of guilt they had gathered around his mind or his acts. The mere animal courage of the soldier he has raised into a kindling and animated spirit of daring; he has brought out his wit, his resource, his talent, his mounting ambition, far more vividly than prior history had exhibited them. His deeds of blood are made to appear, not as in the Tudor chronicles, as prompted by gratuitous ferocity or en- vious malignity, but as the means employed by selfish ambi- tion for its own ends, careless of the misery which it inflicts, or the moral obligations on which it tramples. The Richard of Shakespeare has no communion with his kind — he feels *This play was reprinted by the Shakespeare Society in 1844 f^<^rii the only perfect copy (now in the collection of the Duke of Devonshire) that has come down to us. Dr. Legge's Latin tragedy is appended to it. 14 RICHARD III, himself at once aloof from others and above them — he is 'himself alone;' and he therefore neither partakes in the hatred nor the love or pity of ' men like one another.' Ac- cordingly, every thing that gives the poetic cast and dramatic life and spirit to the character — every thing that elevates Richard above the cruel, artful, cold-blooded tyrant of the old historians — all that mingles a sort of admiring interest with our abhorrence of him, and invests the deformity of his nature with a terrible majesty — is the poet's own conception ; and he produces these effects not by the invention of new incident, but by the pervading spirit with which he has ani- mated the language and sentiments, and the vivid colouring he has thus thrown over the old historical representation." III. CRITICAL COMMENTS ON THE PLAY. \^Froi)i SchlegeVs '"''Dramatic liter atiirey'^^ The part o{ Richard the Third h?iS become highly celebrated in England from its having been filled by excellent perform- ers, and this has naturally had an influence on the admiration of the piece itself, for many readers of Shakspeare stand in want of good interpreters of the poet to understand him properly. This admiration is certainly in every respect well founded, though I cannot help thinking there is an injustice in considering the three parts of Henry the Sixth as of little value compared with Richard the Third. These four plays were undoubtedly composed in succession, as is proved by the style and the spirit in the handling of the subject. The last is definitely announced in the one which precedes it, and is also full of references to it ; the same views run through the series; in a word, the whole make together only one sin- gle work. Even the deep characterization of Richard is by no means the exclusive property of the piece which bears his name. His character is very distinctly drawn in the two * Lectures on Dramatic Art aftd Literature^ by A. W. Schlegel ; Black\ translation, revised by Morrison (London, 1846), p. 435 fol. IN TROD UCTION, 1 5 last parts of Henry the Sixth ; nay, even his first speeches lead us already to form the most unfavourable anticipations of his future conduct. He lowers obliquely like a dark thunder- cloud on the horizon, which gradually approaches nearer and nearer, and first pours out the devastating elements with which it is charged when it hangs over the heads of mortals. Two of Richard's most significant soliloquies, which enable us to draw the most important conclusions with regard to his mental temperament, are to be found in the last part of Henry the Sixth, As to the value and the justice of the ac- tions to which passion impels us, we may be blind, but wick- edness cannot mistake its own nature. Richard, as well as lago, is a villain with full consciousness. That they should say this in so many words is not perhaps in human nature; but the poet has the right in soliloquies to lend a voice to the most hidden thoughts, otherwise the form of the monologue would, generally speaking, be censurable. Richard's de- formity is the expression of his internal malice, and perhaps, in part, the efiect of it ; for where is the ugliness that would not be softened by benevolence and openness ? He, how- ever, considers it as an iniquitous neglect of nature, which justifies him in taking his revenge on that human society from which it is the means of excluding him. Hence these sublime lines : "And this word love, which greybeards call divine, Be resident in men like one another, And not in me ; I am myself alone." Wickedness is nothing but selfishness designedly unconscien- tious ; however, it can never do altogether without the form at least of morality, as this is the law of all thinking beings — ' it must seek to found its depraved way of acting on some- thing like principles. Although Richard is thoroughly ac- quainted with the blackness of his mind and his hellish mis- sion, he yet endeavours to justify this to himself by a sophism. The happiness of being beloved is denied to him ; what then 1 6 RICHARD III. remains to him but the happiness of ruling? All that stands in the way of this must be removed. This envy of the enjoy- ment of love is so much the more natural in Richard, as his brother Edward, who, besides, preceded him in the possession of the crown, was distinguished by the nobleness and beauty of his figure, and was an almost irresistible conqueror of female hearts. Notwithstanding his pretended renunciation, Richard places his chief vanity in being able to please and win over the women, if not by his figure, at least by his in- sinuating discourse. Shakspeare here shows us, with his ac- customed acuteness of observation, that human nature, even when it is altogether decided in goodness or wickedness, is still subject to petty infirmities. Richard's favourite amuse- ment is to ridicule others, and he possesses an eminent satir- ical wit. He entertains at bottom a contempt for all man- kind ; for he is confident of his ability to deceive them, whether as his instruments or his adversaries. In hypocrisy he is particularly fond of using religious form.s, as if actuated by a desire of profaning in the service of hell the religion whose blessings he had inwardly abjured. So much for the main features of Richard's character. The play named after him embraces also the latter part of the reign of Edward IV., in the whole a period of eight years. It exhibits all the machinations by which Richard obtained the throne, and the deeds which he perpetrated to secure himself in its possession, which lasted, however, but two years. Shakspeare intended that terror rather than compassion should prevail throughout this tragedy. He has rather avoided than sought the pathetic scenes which he had at command. Of all the sacrifices to Richard's lust of power, Clarence alone is put to death on the stage. His dream ex- cites a deep horror, and proves the omnipotence of the poet's fancy. His conversation with the murderers is powerfully agitating; but the earlier crimes of Clarence merited death, ahhough not from his l)rother\s hand, 'i'he most innocent INTRODUCTION, 17 and unspotted sacrifices are the two princes. We see but little of them, and their murder is merely related. Anne disappears without our learning any thing further respecting her. In marrying the murderer of her husband, she had shown a weakness almost incredible. 'J'he parts of Lord Rivers, and other friends of the queen, are of too secondary a nature to excite a powerful sympathy. Hastings, from his triumph at the fall of his friend, forfeits all title to compas- sion. Buckingham is the satellite of the tyrant, who is after- wards consigned by him to the axe of the executioner. In the background the widowed Queen Margaret appears as the fury of the past, who invokes a curse on the future. Every calamity which her enemies draw down on each other is a cordial to her revengeful heart. Other female voices join, from time to time, in the lamentations and imprecations. But Richard is the soul, or rather the demon, of the whole tragedy. He fulfils the promise which he formerly made of leading the murderous Machiavel to school. Notwithstand- ing the uniform aversion with w^iich he inspires us, he still engages us in the greatest variety of ways by his profound skill in dissimulation, his wit, his prudence, his presence of mind, his quick activity, and his valour. He fights at last against Richmond like a desperado, and dies the honourable death of a hero on the field of battle. Shakspeare could not change this historical issue, and yet it is by no means satis- factory to our moral feelings, as Lessing, when speaking of a German play on the same subject, has very judiciously re- marked. How has Shakspeare solved this difficulty? By a wonderful invention he opens a prospect into the other world, and shows us Richard in his last rnoments already branded with the stamp of reprobation. We see Richard and Richmond in the night before the battle sleeping in their tents; the spirits of the murdered victims of the tyrant ascend in succession, and pour out their curses against hirh, and their blessings on his adversary. These apparitions are B 1 8 RICHARD III. properly but the dreams of the two generals represented vis- ibly. It is no doubt contrary to probability that their tents should only be separated by so small a space; but Shak- speare could reckon on poetical spectators who were ready to take the breadth of the stage for the distance between two hostile camps, if for such indulgence they were to be recom- pensed by beauties of so sublime a nature as this series of spectres and Richard's awakening soliloquy. The catastrophe of Richard the Third is, in respect of the external events, very like that of Macbeth, We have only to compare the thorough difference of handling them to be convinced that Shakspeare has most accurately observed poetical justice in the genuine sense of the word, that is, as signifying the revelation of an invisible blessing or curse which hangs over human sentiments and actions. \From Drakes ^^ Shakespeare and his Times.^^^'\ The character of Richard the Third, which had been opened in so masterly a manner in the Concluding Part of He7iry the Sixth., is, in this play, developed in all its horrible grandeur. It is, in fact, the picture of a demoniacal incarna- tion, moulding the passions and foibles of mankind, with su- perhuman precision, to its own iniquitous purposes. Of this isolated and peculiar state of being Richard himself seems sensible when he declares — *' 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." From a delineation like this Milton must have caught many of the most striking features of his Satanic portrait. The same union of unmitigated depravity and consummate intellectual energy characterizes both, and renders what "^Shakespeare and his Times, by Nathan Drake, M. D. (London, 1817), vol. ii. p. 373. INTRODUCTION. 19 would otherwise be loathsome and disgusting an object of sublimity and shuddering admiration. The task, however, which Shakespeare undertook was, in one instance, more arduous than that which Milton subse- quently attempted ; for, in addition to the hateful constitution of Richard's moral character, he had to contend also against the prejudices arising from personal deformity, from a figure " curtail'd of its fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinished, sent before its time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up." And yet, in spite of these striking personal defects, which were considered, also, as indicatory of the depravity and wickedness of his nature, the poet has contrived, through the medium of high mental endowments, not only to obviate disgust, but to excite extraordinary admiration. One of the most prominent and detestable vices, indeed, in Richard's character, his hypocrisy, connected, as it always is, in his person, with the most profound skill and dissimula- tion, has, owning to the various parts which it induces him to assume, most materially contributed to the popularity of this play, both on the stage and in the closet. He is one who can "frame his face to all occasions," and accordingly appears, during the course of his career, under the contrasted forms of a subject and a monarch, a politician and a wit, a soldier and a suitor, a sinner and a saint; and in all with such apparent ease and fidelity to nature, that while to the explorer of the human mind he affords, by his penetration and address, a subject of pecul- iar interest and delight, he offers to the practised performer a study well calculated to call forth his fullest and finest exertions. So overwhelming and exclusive is the character of Rich- ard, that the comparative insignificancy of all the other per- sons of the drama may be necessarily inferred; they are re- 20 RICHARD III. fleeted to us, as it were, from his mirror, and become more or less important, and more or less developed, as he finds it necessary to act upon them; so that our estimate of their character is entirely founded on his relative conduct, through which we may very correctly appreciate their strength or weakness. The only exception to this remark is in the person of Queen Margaret, who, apart from the agency of Richard, and dimly seen in the darkest recesses of the picture, pours forth, in union with the deep tone of this tragedy, the most dreadful curses and imprecations ; with such a wild and prophetic fury, indeed, as to involve the whole scene in tenfold gloom and horror. We have to add that the moral of this play is great and impressive. Richard, having excited a general sense of in- dignation, and a general desire of revenge, and unaware of his danger from havmg lost, through familiarity with guilt, all idea of moral obligation, becomes at length the victim of his own enormous crimes; he falls not unvisited by the ter- rors of conscience, for, on the eve of danger and of death, the retribution of another world is placed before him ; the spirits of those whgm he had murdered reveal the awful sen- cence of his fate, and his bosom heaves with the infliction of eternal torture. [From Verplanck^s '''' Shahespeare.'''"^'\ Richard III. is, and long has been — taking the stage and the closet together — the most universally and uninterrupt- edly popular of its author's works. Few of Shakespeare's plays passed through more than two or three editions, as they originally appeared, separately, in the customary form of quarto pamphlets. Of Hamlet^ which seems to have been the most popular of the other tragedies, there are but six of * The Ilhcstrated Shakespeare, edited by G. C. Verplanck (New York, 1847), vol. i. p. 5 of Richard III. IN TROD UC TION. 2 1 these editions; while of i?/V//^/'^///, between 1597 and 1634, we have, in addition to the copies in the first two fohos, no less than eight separate editions, still preserved; and it is possible that there may have been yet another, no longer ex- tant. There are also more references and allusions to it, in the writings of Shakespeare's contemporaries, and in those of the next generation of authors, than to any other of his works. For instance. Bishop Corbet, in his poems. Fuller, in his Church Histoi-y^ and ATilton, in one of his prose con- troversial tracts, all refer to it as familiar to their readers. It has kept perpetual possession of the stage, either in its primitive form, or as altered and adapted to the tastes of the times by Colley Gibber or by John Kemble. In one or other of these forms Richard III. has been the favourite character of all the eminent English tragedians, from Bur- bage, the original " Crookback," who was identified in his day, in the public mind, with the part,^ through the long suc- cession of the monarchs of the English stage — Betterton, * Corbet, the witty and poetical Bishop of Oxford, in his Iter Boreale — a poetical narrative of a journey, in the manner of Horace's yattrngy to B7'tmdHshim^f[x?>t printed in 1617 — thus incidentally records the popu- larity of the play and of its theatrical hero, in his account of a vi^it to Bosworth Field (misquoted by Verplanck and all the other editors) : "Mine host was full of ale and history, ^ ^ And in the morning when he brought us nigh Where the two Roses join'd, you would suppose Chaucer ne'er made the Romaunt of the Rose. Hear him. See ye yon wood? There Richard lay With his whole army. I^ook the other way, And, lo! wliere Riclimond in a bed of gcrse Encamp' d himself o'er night, and all his force : Upon this hill they met. Why. he could tell The inch where Richmond stood, where Richard fell, Besides what of his knowledge he could say, He had authentic notice from the play ; Which I might guess by 's must'ring up the ghosts. And policies not incident to hosts; But chiefly by tliat one perspicuous thing Where he mistook a player for a king. For when he would have said, King Richard died. And call'd, A horse! a horse! he Burbage cried." 2 2 RICHARD III. Gibber, Qiiin, Garrick, Henderson, Kemble, Gooke, Kean — down to our own days. Yet, in all the higher attributes of the poetic drama, Rich- ard III. bears no comparison with the poet's greater trag- edies, or with the graver scenes of his more brilliant com- edies. Intellectually and poetically, it must be assigned to a much lower class than Romeo and Juliet or Othello ; than Lear ox Macbeth; than the Tempest ox \\\^ Merchant of Venice. It does not exhibit that profusion of intellectual wealth which, in all the poet's greater works, overflows in every sentence, crowding his dialogue with thought, and continually evolving suggestions of the largest and deepest truth, from the indi- vidual passion, character, or incident of the scene. Nor does it display that fresh-springing and exuberant fancy, that ex- quisite and perpetually present sense of the beautiful, which intertwines the stern thoughts and dark contemplations even of Hamlet and Lear with matchless delicacies of thought and expression, and unexpected images of sweetness or joy. If we except Glarence's dream, and the description of the murder of the young princes in the Tower — passages such as the author o{ Hamlet 2i\ox\e could have written — this favour- ite tragedy has no scenes of the deeply pathetic or the awful- ly grand or terrible. Its power and its elevation consist in the grand, original, and sustained conception of its one prin- cipal character, almost sublime in its demoniac heroism, in its unflagging energy of heroic guilt "without remorse or dread" — compelling us, in spite of personal and moral de- formity, in spite of falsehood, fraud, treachery, and cruelty, to admire what we detest. Thus its merit is almost exclusively dramatic, keeping up a constant and excited attention and interest, by the truth and spirit of its acted and living narra- tive, the rapid succession of stirring incidents, and the vivid portraiture of impressive character — all sustained by ani- mated dialogue, and occasionally by kindling declamation. The hold on public favour it took at once, and has continued INTRODUCTION. 23 to bold for two centuries and a half, through every variation of popular taste, is the highest and unquestionable proof that, in all these respects, though but faintly marked with other Shakespearian characteristics, it is a work of wonderful orig- inality, vigour, fertility, and power of impression. The connection of this tragedy with the three parts of Henry VI. (and especially with the last) is very striking. This connection differs altogether from that observable be- tween the dramas o{ Hejiry IV. and Henry V, and those which succeed them in chronological order. Between those, the connection is little more than that which must result from the plot's being drawn from the same common histor- ical source. There is little or no reference, in either of the three parts, to the dialogue or invention of the plays chrono- logically preceding; nor is there any thing to show that the several pieces were actually written in the order of this nar- rative, or to contradict the external evidence that the plays prior in chronological order were last written. Precisely the reverse holds true as to Henry VI and Richard III There is here not merely historical agreement, but the latter play is evidently the production of one whose mind was filled with the characters, dialogue, and subsidiary incidents of the pre- ceding dramas. The tyrant -hero is himself but the full- grown, gigantic development of the young Gloster oi Henry F/., as Margaret is but the sequel, in her bitter, vindictive old age, of the very Margaret, not of dry history, but of these dramas. \^From Dow den's ''^ Shakspere.'''"^'\ Certain qualities which make it unique among the dramas of Shakspere characterize the play oi King Richard III Its manner of conceiving and presenting character has a cer- tain resemblance, not elsewhere to be found in Shakspere's writings, to the ideal manner of Marlowe. As in the plays * Shakspere : a Critical Sttidy ol his Mind and Art^ by Edward Dowdeii (2d ed. London, 1876), p. 180 fol. (l)v permission). 24 RICHARD III. of Marlowe, there is here one dominant figure distinguished by a few strongly marked and inordinately developed qual- ities. There is in the characterization no mystery, but mixh of a daemonic intensity. Certain passages are entirely in tlie lyrical-dramatic style ; an emotion, which is one and the same, occupying at the same moment two or three of the personages, and obtaining utterance through them almost simultaneously, or in immediate succession; as a musical motive is interpreted by an orchestra, or taken up singly by successive instruments : ''Queen Elizabeth. Was never widow had so dear a loss! ""Children. Were never orphans had so dear a loss! '''■ Dttchess. Was never mother had so dear a loss ! Alas ! I am the mother of these griefs." TF "^ ^ "^j^" 7K TK TF" The daemonic intensity which distinguishes the play pro- ceeds from the character of Richard, as from its source and centre. As with the chief personages of Marlowe's plays, so Richard in this play rather occupies the imagination by au- dacity and force, than insinuates himself through some sub- tle solvent, some magic and mystery of art. His character does not grow upon us; from the first it is complete. We are not curious to discover what Richard is, as we are curi- ous to come into presence of the soul of Hamlet. We are in no doubt about Richard ; but it yields us a strong sensation to observe him in various circumstances and situations; we are roused and animated by the presence of almost super- human energy and power, even though that power and that energy be malign. Coleridge has said of Richard that pride of intellect is his characteristic. This is true, but his dominant characteristic is not intellectual; it is rather a daemonic energy of will. The same cause which produces tempest and shipwreck produces Richard; he is a fierce elemental power raging through the world ; but this elemental power is concentrated in a human will. The need of action is with Richard an ap- IN TR on UC TION. 25 petite to which all the other appetites are subordinate. He requires space in the world to bustle in ; his will must wreak itself on men and things. All that is done in the play pro- ceeds from Richard ; there is, as has been observed by Mr. Hudson, no interaction. "The drama is not so much a com- position of co-operative characters, mutually developing and developed, as the prolonged yet hurried outcome of a single character, to which the other persons serve but as exponents and conductors; as if he were a volume of electricity disclos- ing himself by means of others, and quenching their active powers in the very process of doing so.'^"^ Richard with his distorted and withered body, his arm shrunk like " a blasted sapling," is yet a sublime figure by virtue of his energy of will and tremendous power of intel- lect. All obstacles give way before him — the courage of men, and the bitter animosity of women. And Richard has a passionate scorn of men, because they are weaker and more obtuse than he, the deformed outcast of nature. He practises hypocrisy not merely for the sake of success, but because his hypocrisy is a cynical jest, or a gross insult to humanity. The Mayor of London has a /^^///'^^'m veneration for piety and established forms of religion. Richard ad- vances to meet him reading a book of prayers, and support- ed on each side by a bishop. The grim joke, the contempt- uous insult to the citizen faith in church and king, flatters his malignant sense of power. To cheat a gull, a coarse hypocrisy suffices. t . . . Richard's cynicism and insolence have in them a kind of grim mirth; such a bonhomie as might be met with among the humorists of Pandemonium. His brutality is a manner of joking with a purpose. When his mother, with Queen * Shakespeare^ his Life^ Art^ and Characters, vol. ii. p. 156. t The plan originates with Buckingham, but Richard plays his part with manifest delight. Shakspere had no historical authority for the presence of the bishops. See Skottowe's Life of Shakspeare, vol. i. pp. 195-96. 2 6 RICHARD III. Elizabeth, comes by " copious in exclaims," ready to " smoth- er her damned son in the breath of bitter words," the mirth- ful Richard calls for a flourish of trumpets to drown these shrill female voices : "A flourish, trumpets ! strike alarum, drums ! Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I say !" On an occasion when hypocrisy is more serviceable than brutality, Richard kneels to implore his mother's blessing, but has a characteristic w^ord of contemptuous impiety to utter aside : ^''Duchess, God bless thee and put meekness in thy breast, Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! '^Richard. Amen! and make me die a good old man! That is the butt -end of a mother's blessing; I marvel that her grace did leave it out." He plays his part before his future wife, the Lady Anne, laying open his breast to the sword's point with a malicious confidence. He knows the measure of woman's frailty, and relies on the spiritual force of his audacity and dissimulation to subdue the weak hand which tries to lift the sword. With no friends to back his suit, with nothing but "the plain devil and dissembling looks," he wins his bride. The hid- eous irony of such a courtship, the mockery it implies of hu- man love, is enough to make a man " your only jigmaker," and sends Richard's blood dancing along his veins. While Richard is plotting for the crown, Lord Hastings threatens to prove an obstacle in the way. What is to be done? Buckingham is dubious and tentative: " Now, my lord, what shall we do, if we perceive Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots?" With sharp detonation, quickly begun and quickly over, Richard's answer is discharged, "Chop off his head, man." There can be no beginning, middle, or end to a deed so simple and so summary. Presently Hastings making sun- INTRODUCTION. 27 dry small assignations for future days and weeks, goes, a murdered man, to the conference at the Tower. Richard, whose startling figure emerges from the background through- out the play with small regard for verisimilitude and always at the most effective moment, is suddenly on the spot, just as Hastings is about to give his voice in the conference as though he were the representative of the absent Duke. Richard is prepared, when the opportune instant has ar- rived, to spring a mine under Hastings's feet. But mean- w^iile a matter of equal importance concerns him — my Lord of Ely's strawberries. The flavour of Holborn strawberries is exquisite, and the fruit must be sent for. Ejchard's de- sire to appear disengaged from sinister thought is less im- portant to note than Richard's need of indulging a cynical contempt of human life. The explosion takes place ; Hast- ings is seized; and the delicacies are reserved until the head of Richard's enemy is off. There is a wantonness of diablerie in this incident : "Talk'st thou to me of ifs? Thou art a traitor. — Off with his head ! Now by Saint Paul I swear I will not dine until I see the same."* The fiery energy of Richard is at its simplest, unmingled with irony or dissimulation, in great days of military move- ment and of battle. Then the force within him expends it- self in a paroxysm which has all the intensity of ungovern- able spasmodic action, and which is yet organized and con- trolled by his intellect. Then he is engaged at his truest devotions, and numbers his Ave-Maries, not with beads, but with ringing strokes upon the helmets of his foes.f He is inspired with "the spleen of fiery dragons;" "a thousand hearts are great within his bosom." On the eve of the bat- * This scene, including the incident of the dish of strawberries, is from Sir T. More's history. See Courtenay's Commentaries on Shakespeare, vol. ii. pp. 84-87. t 3 Henry VI. ii. i. 2 8 RICHARD III, tie of Bosworth Field, Richard, with uncontrollable eager- ness, urges his inquiry into the minutiae of preparation which may insure success. He lacks his usual alacrity of spirit, yet a dozen subalterns would hardly suffice to receive the orders which he rapidly enunciates. He is upon the wing of " fiery expedition :" "I will not sup to-night. Give me some ink and paper. What, is my beaver easier than it was ? And all my armour laid within my tent ? Catesby. It is, my liege, and all things are in readiness. King Richard. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge; Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels. Norfolk, I go, my lord. King Richard. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk. Aloj-folk. I warrant you, my lord. King Richard. Catesby ! Catesby, My lord ? King Richard. Send out a pursuivant at arms To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power Before sun-rising, lest his son George fall Into the blind cave of eternal night. Fill me a bowl of wnne. Give me a watch. — [Exit Catesby. Saddle White Surrey for the field to-morrow. Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy. — Ratcliff!" And, learning from Ratcliff that Northumberland and Sur- rey are alert, giving his last direction that his attendant should return at midnight to help him to arm. King Richard retires into his tent. In all his military movements, as in the whole of Richard's career, there is something else than self-seeking. It is true that Richard, like Edmund, like I ago, is solitary; he has no friend, no brother; '' I am myself alone ;" and all that Rich- ard achieves tends to his own supremacy. Nevertheless, the central characteristic of Richard is not self-seeking or ambi- tion. It is the necessity of releasing and letting loose upon the world the force within him (mere force in which there is INTRODUCTION. 29 nothing moral), the necessity of deploying before himseh''and others the terrible resources of his will. One human tie Shakspere attributes to Richard; contemptuous to his moth^ er, indifferent to the life or death of Clarence and Edward, ^ except as their life or death may serve his own attempt upon the crowm, cynically loveless towards his feeble and unhappy wife, Richard admires with an enthusiastic admiration his 1 great father : "Methinks't is prize enough to be his son." And the memory of his father supplies him with a family pride which, however, does not imply attachment or loyalty to any member of his house. "but I was born so high; Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top, And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun." History supplied Shakspere with the figure of his Richard. He has been accused of darkening the colours, and exagger- ating the deformity of the character of the historical Richard found in More and Holinshed. The fact is precisely the con- trary. The mythic Richard of the historians (and there must have been some appalling fact to originate such a myth) is made somewhat less grim and bloody by the dramatist.^ Essentially, however, Shakspere's Richard is of the diabol- ical (something more dreadful than the criminal) class. He is not weak, because he is single-hearted in his devotion to evil. Richard does not serve two masters. He is not like John, a dastardly criminal; he is not like Macbeth, joyless and faithless because he has deserted loyalty and honour. He has a fierce joy, and he is an intense believer — in the * See the detailed study of this play by W. Oechelhauser in Jahrhiich ier detitschen Shakespeare-Ges€llsc/taft,vo\. iii. pp. 37-39, and pp. 47, 53. Holinshed's treatment of the character of Richard is hardly in harmony with itself. From the death of Edward IV. onwards the Richard of Holinshed resembles Shakspere's Richard, but possesses fiiinter traces of humanity. ^O RICHARD III. creed of hell. And therefore he is strong. He inverts the moral order of things, and tries to live in this inverted sys- tem. He does not succeed ; he dashes himself to pieces against the laws of the world which he has outraged. Yet, while John is wholly despicable, we cannot refrain from yielding a certain tribute of admiration to the bolder male- factor, who ventures on the daring experiment of choosing evil for his good. Such an experiment, Shakspere declares emphatically, as experience and history declare, must in the end fail. The ghosts of the usurper's victims rise between the camps, and are to Richard the Erinnyes, to Richmond inspirers of hope and victorious courage. At length Richard trembles on the brink of annihilation, trembles over the loveless gulf: "I shall despair; there is no creature loves me; And if I die, no soul shall pity me." But the stir of battle restores him to resolute thoughts : "Come, bustle, bustle, caparison my horse," and he dies in a fierce paroxysm of action. Richmond conquers, and he conquers expressly as the champion and representative of the moral order of the world, which Richard had endeav- oured to set aside : *' O Thou, whose captain I account myself, Look on my forces with a gracious eye; Put in theJr hands thy bruising irons of wrath, That they may crush down with a heavy fall The usurping helmets of our adversaries ! Make us thy ministers of chastisement. That we may praise thee in thy victory." ******* The figure of Queen Margaret is painfully persistent upon the mind's eye, and tyrannizes, almost as much as the figure of King Richard himself, over the imagination. " Although banished upon pain of death, she returns to England to as sist at the intestine conflicts of the House of York. Shak spere personifies in her the ancient Nemesis; he gives her INTRODUCTION, 3 1 more than human proportions, and represents her as a sort of supernatural apparition. She penetrates freely into the palace of Edward IV., she there breathes forth her hatred in presence of the family of York and its courtier attendants. No one dreams of arresting her, although she is an exiled woman, and she goes forth, meeting no obstacle, as she had entered. The same magic ring, which on the first occasion opened the doors of the royal mansion, opens them for her once again, when Edward IV. is dead, and his sons have been assassinated in the Tower by the order of Richard. She came, the first time, to curse her enemies; she comes now to gather the fruits of her malediction. Like an aveng- ing Fury, or the classical Fate, she has announced to each his doom."^ [From Mr. F. J. FurnivalPs Introduction to the Play.W Richard the Third is written on the model of Shakspere^s great rival, Christopher Marlowe, the Canterbury cobbler's son, who was stabbed in a tavern brawl on June i, 1593. It was Marlowe's characteristic to embody in a character, and realize with terrific force, the workings of a single passion. In Tavibu7lai7ie he personified the lust of dominion, in Fans- tus the lust of forbidden power and knowledge, in Barabas {The Jew of Malta) the lust of wealth and blood (J. A. Sy- monds). In Richard III. Shakspere embodied ambition, and sacrificed his whole play to this one figure. Gloster's first declaration of his motives shows, of course, the young dramatist, as the want of relief in the play, and the monot- ony of its curses, also do. But Richard's hypocrisies, his exultation in them, his despising and insulting his victims, his grim humour and delight in gulling fools, and in his own villainy, are admirably brought out, and that no less than thirteen times in the play. i. With Clarence. 2. With Hast- '^ A. Mezieres, Shakespeare^ ses (Euvres el ses Critiques^ p. 139. t The Leopold Shakspere (London, 1877), p. xxxix. (by permission). 32 RICHARD II L ings. 3. With Anne, widow of Prince Edward, Henry the Sixth's son, whom Richard the Third, when Gloster, had stabbed. 4. With Queen Elizabeth, with Rivers and Hast- ings, and possibly in his professed repentance for the wrongs he did Queen Margaret in murdering her son and husband.* 5. With Edward the Fourth on his death-bed, and his queen, and lords, and as to the author of Clarence's death. 6. With his nephew, Clarence's son. 7. AV'ith Queen Elizabeth and his mother, ''Amen ! And make me die a good old man !" 8. With Buckingham, " I as a child will go by thy direction." 9. With the young prince, Edward the Fifth, " God keep you from them and from such false friends." 10. With Hastings and the Bishop of Ely. 11. With the Mayor about Hastings and then about taking the crown — (note Richard's utter brutality and baseness in his insinuation of his mother's adultery). 12. With Buckingham about the murder of the princes. 13. With Queen Elizabeth when he repeats the scene of his wooing with Anne, as the challenge-scene is re- peated in Richard II, Villain as he is, he has the villain's coolness too. He never loses temper, except when he strikes the third messenger. As a general he is as skilful as Henry the I'ifth, and looks to his sentinels; while, like Henry the Fourth, he is up and doing at the first notice of danger, and takes the right practical measures. Yet the conscience he ridicules, he is made to feel — " there is no creature loves me ; And if I die, no soul shall pity me." But we must note that this is only when his will is but half awake, half paralyzed by its weight of sleep. As soon as the man is himself again, neither conscience nor care for love or pity troubles him. The weakest part of the play is the scene of the citizens' talk; and the poorness of it, and the monot- ony of the women's curses, have given rise to the theory that * I have always, though, considered this genuine repentance, or at least a genuine profession of it. INTRODUCTION. t^Z in Richa7'd III, Shakspere was only re-writing an old play, of which he let bits stand. But though I once thought this possible, I have since become certain that it is not so. The wooing of Anne by Richard has stirred me, in reading it aloud, almost as much as any thing else in Shakspere. Note, too, how the first lines of the play lift you out of the mist and confusion of the Henry VI. plays into the sun of Shakspere's genius. Note by the Editor. — Mr. James Russell Lowell, in a lecture at Chi- cago, February 22, 1887, expressed the opinion that the play was merely revised by Shakespeare. "It appears to me," he said, "that an exam- ination of Richard III. plainly indicates that it is a play which Shake- speare adapted to the stage, making additions, sometimes longer and sometimes shorter; and toward the end he either grew weary of his work or was pressed for time, and left the older author, whoever he was, pretty much to himself." This does not differ essentially from the decision to which Mr. F. G. Fleay has come in his Chronicle History of Shakespeare^ published in 1886 (p. 276) : ''''Richard III. has always been regarded as entirely Shakespeare's, and its likeness to 3 Henry VI. has more than anything else kept alive the untenable belief that this last-named play was also, in part or wholly, written by our greatest dramatist. Yet the unlikeness of Richard III. to the other historical plays of Shakespeare, and the impracticability of find- ing a definite position for it, metrically or aesthetically, in any chrono- logical arrangement, have made themselves- felt. . . . There can be little doubt that in this, as in John, Shakespeare derived his plot and part of his text from an anterior play, the difference in the two cases being that in Richard III. he adopted much more of his predecessor's text. I be- lieve that the anterior play was Marlowe's, partly written for Lord Strange's company in 1593, but left unfinished at Marlowe's death, and completed and altered by Shakespeare in 1594. . . . The unhistorical but grandly classical conception of Margaret, the Cassandra prophetess, the Helen- Ate of the House of Lancaster, which binds the whole tetralogy [the three parts of Henry VI. and Richard III} into one work, is evi- dently due to Marlowe, and the consummate skill with which he has fused the heterogeneous contributions of his coadjutors in the two earlier Henry VI. plays is no less worthy of admiration. I do not think it pos- sible to separate Marlowe's work from Shakespeare's in this play — it is worked in with too cunning a hand. . . . Could any critic, if the elder JoJin were destroyed, tell us which lines had been adopted in the later play ?" It may be rioted incidentally that what Mr. Lowell says of the marks of less careful revision of the earlier work toward the end oi Richard III. is curiously in accordance with Mr. Fleay's theory of the make-up of c 34 IN TROD UC TION. that portion of the folio text, as given in Dr. Ingleby's Shakespeare: The Mail and the Book, Part II. p. 139. He says there that the folio text up to a certain point in the third scene of act v. ** gives the acting version in use in 1622;" but from that point to the end "it is supplemented from the 1602 quarto," the prompter's copy from which the rest was printed being probably "deficient towards the conclusion." Even so cautious and conservative a critic as Halliwell - Phillipps recognizes indications of earlier work in the play. In his Outlines of the Life of Shakespeare (6th ed. vol. i. p. 136 — where, however, the passage is reprinted without change from the earlier editions), after referring to the historical sources of the plot in More and Holinshed, he adds: " There are also slight traces of an older play to be observed, passages which may belong to an inferior hand, and incidents, such as that of the rising of the ghosts,* suggested probably by similar ones in a more ancient composition. That the play oi Richard III. ^ as we now have it, is essentially Shakespeare's, cannot admit of a doubt ; but as little can it be questioned that to the circumstance of an anterior work on the subject having been used do we owe some of its weakness and excessively turbu- lent character. No copy of this older play is known to exist, but one brief speech and the two following lines have been accidentally pre- served : 'My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is ta'en, And Banister is come for his reward ' — [compare Richard III iv. 4. 529: * My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken '], from which it is clear that the new dramatist did not hesitate to adopt an occasional line from his predecessor, although he entirely omitted the character of Banister. Both plays must have been success- ful, for, notwithstanding the great popularity of Shakespeare's, the more ancient one sustained its ground on the English stage until the reign of Charles I." As we have said above (p. 11), the date of the play is probably as early as 1594, if not 1593. Its peculiarities and imperfections may be partially due to a mingling of earlier work by another hand, but we are inclined to agree with Halliwell-Phillipps that it is "essentially Shakespeare's." * Mr. Lowell remarked that the procession of ghosts in the play always struck him "as ludicrous and odd rather than impressive." yi jf the interior. DRAMATIS PERSONS. Sons to the King. Brothers to the King. King Edward the Fourth. Edward, Prince of Wales, after- wards King Edward V., Richard, Duke of York, George, Duke of Clarence, Richard, Duke of Gloster, after- wards King Richard III., A young Son of Clarence. Henry, Earl of Richmond, afterwards King Henry VII. |iiijj',l{|l Cardinal Bouchier, Archbishop of Canterbury. Thomas Rotherham. Archbishop of York. John Morton, Bishop of Ely. Duke of Buckingham. Duke of Norfolk, Earl of Surrey, his Son. Earl Rivers, Brother to Elizabeth. Marquis of Dorset end Lord Grey, Sons to Elizabeth. Earl of Oxford. Lord Hastings. LoKD Stanley. Lord Lovel. Sir Thomas Vaughan. Sir Richard Ratcliff. Sir William Catesby. Sir James Tyrrel. Sir James Blount. Sir Walter Herbert. Sir Robert Brakenbuky, Lieutenant of the Tower. Christopher Ukswick, a Priest. Another Priest. Lord Mayor of London. Sheriff of Wiltshire. A Keeper in the Tower. Elizabeth, Queen to King Edward IV. Margaret, Widow of King Henry VI. Duchess of York, Mother to King Edward IV. Lady Anne, Widow of Edward, Prince of Wales. A young Daughter of Clarence. Lords, and other Attendants ; two Gentlemen, a Pursuivant, Scrivener, Murderers, Messengers, Ghosts, Soldiers, etc. Scene: England, CHERTSEV. ACT I. Scene I. Lo7ido?i, A Street. Enter Gloster. Gloster. Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that lower'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, 38 RICHARD III, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber3 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 ; I, 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 isc 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 see 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 murtherer 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? Clarence. His majesty. ACT I. SCENE I. 39 Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed This conduct to convey nie to the Tower. Gloster. Upon what cause ? Clarence. Because my name is George. Gloster. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours j He should, for that, commit your godfathers. O, belike his majesty hath some intent That you should be new-christen'd in the Tower. 50 But what's the matter, Clarence.'* may I know.^ Clarence. 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, 60 Have mov'd his highness to commit me now. Gloster. Wh}^, this it is when men are rul'd by women 1 'T is not the king that sends you to the Tower; My Lady Grey, his wife, Clarence, 't is she That tempers him to this extremity. Was it not she, and that good man of worship, Anthony Woodeville, 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 Clarence. By heaven, I think there is no man secure But the queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds That trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore. Heard you not what an humble suppliant Lord Hastings was to her for his delivery.^ Gloster. Humbly complaining to her deity Got my lord chamberlain his liberty. 40 RICHARD IIL V 11 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 our monarchy. Brake?ibiiry. 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 your brother. Gloster. Even so ; an please your worship, Brakenbury, You may partake of any thing we say. We speak no treason, man: we say the king 9c 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 r^ssing pleasing tongue; And that the queen's kindrea are made gentlefolks. How say you, sir.^ can you deny all this.^ Brake7ibiiry. With this, my lord, myself have nought to do. C^j-Z^fr. . 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. loo Brake7ibury. What one, my lord ? Gloster. Her husband, knave. Would'st thou betray me.'' Brakenbury. I beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal Forbear your conference with the noble duke. Clarence. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. Gloster. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey. — Brother, farewell: I will unto the king; And whatsoe'er you will employ me in, Were it to call King Edward's widow sister, ACT I. SCENE /. 41 I will perform it to enfranchise you. no Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood Touches me deeper than you can imagine. Clarence. I know it pleaseth neither of us well. Gloster. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long^ I will deliver yon, or else lie for you. Meantime, have patience. Clarence. I must perforce. Farewell. [Exeimt Clarefice, Brakenbii7y^ and Guard. Gloster. 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 Hastings. Hasti7igs. Good time of day unto my gracious lord! Gloster. As much unto my good lord chamberlain! Well are you welcome to this open air. How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment? Hastings. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must; But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks That were the cause of my imprisonment. Gloster. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too : For they that were your enemies are his, 130 And have prevail'd as much on him as you. Hastings. More pity that the eagle should be mew'd. While kites and buzzards prey at liberty. Gloster. What news abroad ? Hastings. No news so bad abroad as this at home : The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy, And his physicians fear him mightily. Gloster. Now, by Saint Paul, that news is bad indeed. O, he hath kept an evil diet long. And overmuch consum'd his royal* person; 140 42 RICHARD in. 'T is very grievous to be thought upon. Wheie is he? in his bed? Hastings. He is. Gloster. Go you before, and I will follow you. — \^Exit Hastings. He cannot live, I hope; and must not die Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven. I '11 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 AVhich done, God take King Edward to his mercy, And leave the world for me to bustle in ! For then I '11 marry Warwick's youngest daughter. What though I kill'd her husband 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 horse to market : 160 Clarence still breathes, Edward still lives and reigns; When they are gone, then must I count my gains. \^Exit. Scene II. The Same. Another Street. Enter the corpse of King Henry the Sixth, borne in an open coffin^ Gentlemen hearing halberds to guard, it ; a?td 1la^d\ Anne as 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 Lancasterl ACT L SCENE II. 43 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, 10 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. — 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 I More direful hap betide that hated wretch. That makes us wretched by the death of thee, Than I can wish to wolves, to spiders, toads, Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives ! 20 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 Than I am made by my young lord and thee ! — Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, Taken from Paul's to be interred there; 30 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. Gloster. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. An7ie. What black magician conjures up this fiend. To stop devoted charitable deeds? Gloster. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, I '11 make a corse of him that disobeys ! I Gentleman. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. RICHARD III. blaster, Unmanner'd dog! stand thou when I command; Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, 40 Or, by Saint Paul, I '11 strike thee to my foot. And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. [ The Bearers set down the coffiiL 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 power over his mortal body, His soul thou canst not have ; therefore, be gone. Gloster. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. A?ine. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not ; 50 For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, Behold this pattern of thy butcheries. — O gentlemen, see, see ! dead Henry's wounds Open their congeal 'd mouths and bleed afresh ! — Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity, For 't is thy presence that exhales this blood From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; Thy deed, inhuman amd unnatural, 60 Provokes this deluge most unnatural. — O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death ! O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his death ! Either, heaven, with lightning strike the murtherer 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 ! Gloster. Lady, you know no rules of charity. Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. Anne. Villain, thou know'st nor law of God nor man ; 70 No beast so fierce but know^s some touch of pity. ACT I. SCENE IL >45 Gloster. But I know none, and therefore am no bcc^st. Anne. O, wonderful when devils tell the truth ! Gloster. More wonderful when angels are so angry. — Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, Of these supposed crimes 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 80 Gloster. 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 Gloster. By such despair I should accuse myself. Anne. And, by despairing, shalt thou stand excus'd For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, That didst unworthy slaughter upon others. Gloster. Say that I slew them not ? Anne. Why, then they are not. dead; But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee. 90 Gloster. I did not kill your husband. Anne. Why, then he is alive. Gloster. Nay, he is dead ; and slain by Edward's hand. Anjie. In thy foul throat thou liest : Queen Margaret saw Thy murtherous falchion smoking in his blood ; The which thou once didst bend against her breast, But that thy brothers beat aside the point. Gloster. I was provoked by her slanderous tongue. That laid their guilt upon my guihless shoulders. Anne. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind. That never dreamt on aught but butcheries. 100 Didst thou not kill this king? Gloster. I grant ye. Anne. Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too 46 RICHARD IIL Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed ! O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous ! Gloster, The better for the king of heaven that hath him. Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. Gloster, Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither; For he was fitter for that place than earth. Anne. And thou unfit for any place but hell. no Gloster. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. A7ine. Some dungeon. Gloster. Your bedchamber. Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest ! Gloster. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. An7ie. I hope so. Gloster. I know so. — But, gentle Lady Anne, To leave this keen encounter of our wits. And fall something into a slower method, Is not the causer of the timeless deaths Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, 120 As blameful as the executioner ? Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most accurst effect. Gloster. Your beauty was the cause of that effect; Your beauty, that did haunt me in my sleep To undertake the death of all the world, So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. Amie. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. Gloster. These eyes could not endure that beauty's wrack ; You should not blemish it, if I stood by. 130 As all the world is cheered by the sun, So I by that; it is my day, my life. Anfie. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life ! Gloster. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both. A7ine. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee. Gloster. It is a quarrel most unnatural, To be revenfr'd on him that loveth thee. ACT /. SCENE II. 47 Anne. It is a quarrel just and reasonable, To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband. Gloster. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband 140 Did it to help thee to a better husband. Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth. Gloster. He lives that loves you better than he could. Anne. Name him. Gloster. Plantagenet. Anne. Why, that was he. Gloster. The selfsame name, but one of better nature. Anne. Where is he ? Gloster. Here. \^She spits at him.^ V/hy dost thou spit at me .^ Anne. Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake ! Gloster. Never came poison from so sweet a place. Anne.^Never hung poison on a fouler toad. Out of my sight ! thou dost infect mine eyes. 150 Gloster. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. Anne. Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead 1 Gloster. I would they were, that I might die at once. For now they kill me with a living death. Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops : These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear; No, when my father York and Edward wept To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at him ; 160 Nor when thy warlike father, like a child. Told the sad story of my father's death, And twenty times made pause to sob and weep, That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks. Like trees bedash'd with rain : in that sad time My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping. 48 RICHARD III, I never sued to friend nor enemy; My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word; 170 But, now thy beauty is propos'd my fee, My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. S^She looks scornfully at hi7n. Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; Which if thou please to hide in this true breast, And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, And humbly beg the death upon my knee. 180 [^He lays his breast open ; she offers at it with his sword. Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry, — But 't was thy beauty that provoked me. Nay, now dispatch; 't was I that stabb'd young Edward, — But 't was thy heavenly face that set me on. \^She lets fall the sivord. Take up the sword again, or take up me. ^/^;/^. Arise, dissembler; though I wish thy death, I will not be thy executioner. Gloster. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. Anne. I have already. Gloster. That was in thy rage : Speak it again, and even with the word 190 This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love. Shall for thy love kill a far truer love; To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. Anne. I would I knew thy heart. Gloster. 'T is figur'd in my tongue. Anne. I fear me both are false. Gloster. Then, never man was true. Anne. Well, well, put up your sword. Gloster. Say, then, my peace is made. ACT I. SCENE II. ^g Anne. That shalt thou know hereafter. 200 Gloster. But shall I live in hope? Afine. All men, I hope, live so. Gloster. Vouchsafe to wear this ring. Anne. To take is not to give. \S he puts on the ring, Gloster. Look, how my ring encompasseth thy finger, Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart ; Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. And if thy poor devoted servant may But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. 210 Anne. What is it? Gloster. That it may please you leave these sad designs To him that hath most cause to be a mourner, And presently repair to Crosby House, Where, after I have solemnly interred At Chertsey monastery this noble king. And wet his grave with my repentant tears, I will with all expedient duty see you. For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you, i^-^ Grant me this boon. . 220 An7ie. With all my heart; and much it joys me too To see you are become so penitent. — Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me. Gloster. Bid me farewell. Anne. 'T is more than you deserve ; But since you teach me how to flatter you. Imagine I have said farewell already. {^Exeunt Lady Anne^ Tressel, and Berkeley, Gentlema7i. Towards Chertsey, noble lord ? Gloster. No, to White-Friars; there attend my coming. — \_Exeunt all but Gloster. Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ? Was ever woman in this humour won ? 230 I '11 have her, but I will not keep her long. D so RICHARD III. What ! I, that kill'cl her husband and his father, To take her in her heart's extremest hate, With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of my hatred by, Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit withal But the plain devil and dissembling looks. And yet to win her, — all the world to nothing! Ha 1 Hath she forgot already that brave prince, 240 Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since, Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury ? A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman — Fram'd in the prodigality of nature, Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal — The spacious world cannot again afford; And will she yet abase her eyes on me, That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince, And made her widow to a woful bed ? On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? 250 On me, that halt and am misshapen thus? My dukedom to a beggarly denier, I do mistake my person all this while ! Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot. Myself to be a marvellous proper man. I '11 be at charges for a looking-glass. And entertain some score or two of tailors To study fashions to adorn my body; Since I am crept in favour with myself, I will maintain it with some little cost. 26c But, first, I '11 turn yon fellow in his grave, And then return lamenting to my love. — Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass. That I may see my shadow as I pass. \Exit. ACT I. SCENE III. 51 Scene III. The Same. A Room in the Palace. Enter Queen Elizabeth, Lord Rivers, and Lord Grey. Rivers. Have patience, madam ; there 's no doubt his majesty Will soon recover his accustom'd health. Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse; Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. Queen Elizabeth. If he were dead, what would betide of me ? Grey. No other harm but loss of such a lord. Queen Elizabeth. The loss of such a lord includes all harms. Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son. To be your comforter when he is gone. 10 Queen Elizabeth. Ah, he is young; and his minority Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloster, A man that loves not me, nor none of you. Rivers. Is it concluded he shall be protector ? Queen Elizabeth. It is determin'd, not concluded yet; But so it must be, if the king miscarry. Enter Buckingham and Stanley. Grey. Here come the Lords of Buckingham and Stanley. Buckingham. Good time of day unto your royal grace ! Stanley. God make your majesty joyful as you have been ! Queen Elizabeth, The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Stanley, 20 To 3^our good prayer will scarcely say amen. Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she 's your wife. And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd I hate not you for her proud arrogance. Stanley. I do beseech you, either not believe 52 RICHARD III, The envious slanders of her false accusers, Or, if she be accus'd on true report, Bear with her weakness, which, I think, proceeds From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. Queen Elizabeth. Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of Stanley? 30 Stanley. But now the Duke of Buckingham and I Are come from visiting his majesty. Queen Elizabeth. What likelihood of his amendment, lords? Buckingham. Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheer- fully. Queen Elizabeth. God grant him health! Did you confer with him ? Buckingham. Ay, madam; he desires to make atonement Between the Duke of Gloster and your brothers, And between them and my lord chamberlain. And sent to warn them to his royal presence. Queeji Elizabeth. Would all were well ! — But that will never be; 4© I fear our happiness is at the height. Enter Gloster, Hastings, and Dorset. Gloster. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it. — Who are they that complain unto the king- That I, forsooth, am stern and love them not? By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours. Because I cannot flatter and speak fair, Smile in men's f^ices, smooth, deceive, and cog, Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, I must be held a rancorous enemy. 50 Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm. But thus his simple truth must be abused With silken, sly, insinuating Jacks? ACT L SCENE III. 53 Grey. To whom in all this presence speaks your grace? Gloster. To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace. When have I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong? — Or thee ? — or thee ? — or any of your faction ? A plague upon you all ! His royal grace — Whom God preserve better than you would wish ! — Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while 60 But you must trouble him with lewd complaints. Queen Elizabeth. Brother of Gloster, you mistake the mat- ter. The king, on his own royal disposition, And not provok'd by any suitor else, — Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred, That in your outward action shows itself, Against my children, brothers, and myself. Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather The ground of your ill-wdll, and so remove it. Gloste?\ I cannot tell; — the world is grown so bad to That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. Since every Jack became a gentleman, There 's many a gentle person made a Jack. Queen Elizabeth. Come, come, we know your meaning, brother Gloster; You envy my advancement, and my friends'. God grant we never may have need of you ! Gloster. Meantime, God grants that we have need of you ! Our brother is imprison'd by your means, Myself disgrac'd, and the nobility Held in contempt; while great promotions 80 Are daily given to ennoble those That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble. Queen Elizabeth. By Him that rais'd me to this careful height From that contented hap which I enjoy'd, 5^ RICHARD III. I never did incense his majesty Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been An earnest advocate to plead for him. My lord, you do me shameful injury, Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. Gloster. You may deny that you were not the mean 90 Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment. Rivers. She may, my lord ; for — Gloster. She may, Lord Rivers, — why, who knows not so? She may do more, sir, than denying that: She may help you to many fair preferments; And then deny her aiding hand therein. And lay those honours on your high desert. What may she not.'* She may, — ay, marry, may she, — Rivers. What, marry, may she ? Gloster. What, marry, may she ? marry with a king, 100 A bachelor, and a handsome stripling too. I wis your grandam had a worser match. Qtieeti Elizabeth. My Lord of Gloster, I have too long borne Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs; By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty Of those gross taunts that oft I have endur'd. I had rather be a country servant-maid Than a great queen, with this condition — To be so baited, scorn VI, and stormed at ; Enter Queen Margaret, behiiid, where she remains. Small joy have I in being England's queen. no Queen Margaret. And lessen'd be that small, God, I be- seech him ! Thy honour, state, and seat is due to me. Gloster. What ! threat you me with telling of the king.^ Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have said ACT I. SCENE III. 55 I will avouch in presence of the king; I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower. 'T is time to speak ; my pains are quite forgot. Queen Margaret. Out, devil ! I remember them too well. Thou kill'dst my husband Henry in the Tower, And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. 120 Gloster. Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband king, I was a pack-horse in his great affairs ; A w^eeder-out of his proud adversaries, A liberal rewarder of his friends : To royalize his blood I spent mine own. Quee?i Margaret. Ay, and much better blood than his or thine. Gloster. In all which time you and your husband Grey Were factious for the house of Lancaster ; — • And, Rivers, so were you. — Was not your husband In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain 1 " 130 Let me put in your minds, if you forget, What you have been ere this, and what you are ; Withal, what I have been, and what I am. Queen Margaret. A murtherous villain, and so still thou art. Gloster. Poor Clarence did forsake his father AVarwick, Ay, and forswore himself, — which Jesu pardon ! — Queen Margaret. AVhich God revenge ! Gloster. To fight on Edward's party, for the crown ; And, for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up. I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward's, 140 Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine \ I am too childish-foolish for this world. Queen Margaret. Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave this world, Thou cacodaemon ! there thy kingdom is. Rivers. My Lord of Gloster, in those busy days Which here you urge to prove us enemies, 56 RICHARD III. \\(t foUow'd then our lord, our sovereign king; So should we you, if you should be our king. Gloster, If I should be! — I had rather be a pedler. Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof! 150 Quee?i Elizabeth, As little joy, my lord, as you suppose You should enjoy, were 3^ou this country's king. As little joy you may suppose in me, That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. Qiieen Margaret. A little joy enjoys the queen thereof; For I am she, and altogether joyless. I can no longer hold me patient. — \Advancing, Hear me, you wrangling pirates that fall out In sharing that which you have pill'd from me ! Which of you trembles not that looks on me ? ,60 If not that I am queen, you bow like subjects, Yet that, by you depos'd, you quake like rebels ? — Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away ! Glcsier, Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in my sight .^ Queen Margaret. But repetition of what thou hast marr'd ; That will I make before I let thee go. Gloster. Wert thou not banished on pain of death ? Queen Margaret. I was; but I do find more pain in ban- ishment Than death can yield me here by my abode. A husband and a son thou owest to me, — 170 And thou a kingdom ; — all of you allegiance : This sorrow that I have, by right is yours; And all the pleasures you usurp are mine. Gloster. The curse my noble father laid on thee, When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper. And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes, And then, to dry them, gav'st the duke a clout Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland, — ■ His curses, then from bitterness of soul ACT I. SCENE HI. 57 Denounc'd against thee, are all fallen upon thee ; 180 And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed. Queen Elizabeth. So just is God, to right the innocent. Hastings, O, 't was the foulest deed to slay that babe, And the most merciless that e'er was heard of! Rivers. Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. Dorset. No man but prophesied revenge for it. Buckingham. Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. Queen Margaret, What ! were you snarling all, before I came, Ready to catch each other by the throat. And turn you all your hatred now on me? 190 Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment. Should all but answer for that peevish brat ? Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven ? — Why, then give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses ! — Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, As ours by murther, to make him a king! Edward, thy son, that now is Prince of Wales, For Edward, our son, that was Prince of Wales, 200 Die in his youth by like untimely violence ! Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self! Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's death, And see another, as I see thee now, Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine! Long die thy happy days before thy death ; And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief, Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen ! — Rivers, and Dorset, you were standers-by, — 210 And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, — when my son Was stabb'd with bloody daggers ; God, I pray him. 58 RICHARD III. That none of you may live his natural age, But by some unlook'd accident cut off! Gloster. Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag ! Qiiee?i Margaret. And leave out thee ? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me. If heaven have any grievous plague in store Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe, And then hurl down their indignation 220 On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace ! The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul ! Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st, And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends ! No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, Unless it be while some tormenting dream Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils! Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog! Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity The slave of nature and the son of hell ! 230 Thou slander of thy heavy mother's womb ! Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins ! Thou rag of honour ! thou detested Gloster. Maro^aret. 'fc)'' Queen Margaret. Richard ! Gloster. Ha! Queen Margaret. I call thee not. Gloster. I cry thee mercy then, for I did think That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names. Queen Margaret. Why, so I did, but look'd for no reply. O, let me make the period to my curse! Gloster. 'T is done by me, and ends in — Margaret. Queen Elizabeth. Thus have you breath'd your curse against yourself 240 Queen Margaret. Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune ! ACT I. SCENE riL 59 Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider^ Whose, deadly web ensnareth thee about ? Fool, fool ! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. The day will come that thou shalt wish for me To help thee curse this poisonous bunch-back'd toad. Hastings. False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse, Lest to thy harm thou move our patience. Queen Margaret. Foul shame upon you! you have all mov'd mine. Rivers. Were you well serv'd, you would be taught your duty. 250 Queen Margaret. To serve me well, you all should do me duty, Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects. O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty ! Dorset. Dispute not with her; she is lunatic. Queen Marga?rt. Peace, master marquess ! you are mal- apert ; Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current. O that your young nobility could judge What 't were to lose it, and be miserable! They that stand high have many blasts to shake them. And if they fall they dash themselves to pieces. 200 Gloster. Good counsel, marry! — learn it, learn it, mar- quess. Dorset. It touches you, my lord, as much as me. Gloster. Ay, and much more ; but I was born so high : Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top. And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun. Queen Margaret. And turns the sun to shade, — alas I alas! — Witness my son, now in the shade of death ; Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath Hath in eternal darkness folded up. Your aery buildeth in our aery's nest. — 270 6o RICHARD III. O God, that seest it, do not suffer it ! As it was won with blood, lost be it so ! Buckingham. Peace, peace ! for shame, if not for charity. Queen Marga7'et. Urge neither charity nor shame to me : Uncharitably with me have you dealt, And shamefully my hopes by you are butcher'd. My charity is outrage, life my shame. And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage ! Buckingham. Have done, have done. Quee?i Margaret. O princely Buckingham, I '11 kiss thy hand, 280 In sign of league and amity w^ith thee; Now, fair befall thee and thy noble house ! Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, Nor thou within the compass of my curse. Buckingham. Nor no one here; for curses never pass The lips of those that breathe them in the air. Queen Margaret. I wnll not think but they ascend the sky, And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog ! Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites, 290 His venom tooth will rankle to the death. Have not to do with him, beware of him; Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him, And all their ministers attend on him. Gloster. What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham ? Buckingham. Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. Queen Margaret, What ! dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel. And soothe the devil that I warn thee from ? O, but remember this another day. When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow, 300 And say poor Margaret was a prophetess. — Live each of you the subjects to his hate, And he to yours, and all of you to God's ! \^Exit, ACT I. SCENE II L 6 1 Hasti7igs. My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses. Rivers, And so doth mine. I muse why she 's at lib- •erty. Gloster, I cannot blame her; by God's holy mother, She hath had too much wrong, and I repent My part thereof tnat I have done to her. Queen Elizabeth. I never did her any, to my knowledge. Gloster. Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong. 310 I was too hot to do somebody good. That is too cold in thinking of it now. Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid; He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains: — God pardon them that are the cause thereof! Rivers. A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion, To pray for them that have done scath to us. Gloster. So do I ever, being well advis'd; — [Aside'] For, had I curs'd now, I had curs'd myself. Enter Catesby. Cateshy. Madam, his majesty doth call for you, — 320 And for your grace, and you, my noble lords. Queen Elizabeth. Catesby, I come. — Lords, will you go with me t Rivers. We wait upon your grace. [Exeunt all but Gloster. Gloster. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. The secret mischiefs that I set abroach I lay unto the grievous charge of others. Clarence, whom I, indeed, have cast in darkness, I do beweep to many simple gulls, — Namely, to Stanley, Hastings, Buckingham, — And tell them 't is the queen and her allies 330 That stir the king against the duke my brother. Now they believe it, and withal whet me To be reveng'd on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey ; 62 RICHARD III. But then I sigh, and, with a piece of Scripture, Tell them that God bids us do good for evil : And thus I clothe my naked villany With odd old ends stolen forth of holy writ, And seem a saint when most I play the devil. But soft ! here come my executioners. — Enter two Murderers. How now, my hardy, stout-resolved mates! 340 Are you now going to dispatch this thing .^ I Mu7'derer. We are, my lord j and come to have the war- rant, That we may be admitted where he is. Gloster. Well thought upon ; I have it here about me. \Gives the warrant. When you have done, repair to Crosby Place. But, sirs, be sudden in the execution, Withal obdurate; do not hear him plead, For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him. I Murderer. Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand to prate ; Talkers are no good doers : be assur'd 351 We go to use our hands, and not our tongues. Gloster. Your eyes drop millstones when fools' eyes fall tears. I like you, lads ; — about your business straight. Go, go, dispatch. I Murderer. We will, my noble lord. \^Exeunt Scene IV. London. A Room in the Tower. Enter Clarence atid Keeper. Keeper. Why looks your grace so heavily to-day ? Clarence. O, I have pass'd a miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights. ACT I. SCENE IV. (^^^ That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 't were to buy a world of happy days, — So full of dismal terror was the time ! Keeper, What was your dream, my lord ? I pray you tell me. Clarence, Methought that I had broken from the Tower, And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy; lo And, in my company, my brother Gloster, Who from my cabin tempted me to walk Upon the hatches : thence we look'd toward England, And cited up a thousand heavy times. During the wars of York and Lancaster, That had befall'n us. As we pac'd along Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, Methought that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling, Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard Into the tumbling billows of the main. 20 O Lord, methought, what pain it was to drown ! W^hat dreadful noise of water in mine ears ! What sights of ugly death within mine eyes ! Methought I saw a thousand fearful wracks; A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon ; Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels. All scattered in the bottom of the sea: Some lay in dead men's skulls ; and in the holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, .^o As 't were in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems. That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep. And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by. Keeper. Had you such leisure in the time of death To gaze upon these secrets of the deep t Clarence. Methought I had; and often did I strive To yield the ghost : but still the envious flood 64 RICHARD III, Stopp'd in my soul, and would not let it forth To find the empty, vast, and wand'ring air. But smother'd it within my panting bulk, 40 Which almost burst to belch it in the sea. Keeper. Awak'd you not in this sore agony ? Clarence. No, no, my dream was lengthen 'd after life ! O, then began the tempest to my soul ! I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, With that sour ferryman which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick ; Who spake aloud, * What scourge for perjury 50 Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?' And so he vanish'd. Then came wandering by A shadow like an angel, with bright hair Dabbled in blood ; and he shriek'd out aloud, 'Clarence is come, — false, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence, — That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury ; — Seize on him. Furies ! take him unto torment !' With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears Such hideous cries that with the very noise 60 I trembling wak^d, and for a season after Could not believe but that I was in hell, Such terrible impression made my dream. Keeper. No marvel, lord, though it affrighted you ; I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it. Clarence. Ah, keeper, keeper! I have done these things, That now give evidence against my soul. For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me ! — O God ! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee. But thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds, 70 Yet execute thy wrath in me alone; O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children ! — ACT I. SCENE IV. 65 Keeper, I prithee sit by me awhile ; My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. Keepe7\ I will, my lord; God give your grace good rest ! Clarence reposes himself on a chair ^ and sleeps ; then enter Brakenbury. Brakenbiiry, Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning and the noontide night. Princes have but their titles for their glories, / An outward honour for an inward toil, / And for unfelt imaginations 80 They often feel a world of restless cares; So that between their titles and low name There 's nothing differs but the outward fame. Enter the two Murderers. n^ I Murderer. Ho ! who 's here .^ ^ BrakeJibury. What w^ould'st thou, fellow.^ and how cam'st thou hither ? 1 Murde?'er. I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. Brakenbury. What ! so brief .^ 2 Murderer. 'T is better, sir, than to be tedious.- - Let him see our commission; and talk no more. 90 \A paper delivered to Brakenbury.^ who reads it. Brakeftbury. I am in this commanded to deliver The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands. — I will not reason what is meant hereby, * Because I will be guiltless of the meaning. — There lies the duke asleep, and there the keys. I '11 to the king, and signify to him That thus I have resign 'd to you my charge. 1 Murderer. You may, sir; 't is a point of wisdom. Fare you well. \Exeunt Brakenbury and Keeper. 2 Murderer. What, shall we stab him as he sleeps ? 100 E 66 RICHARD III. 1 Murderer. No; he '11 say 't was done cowardly, when he wakes. 2 Murderer. Why, he shall never wake until the great judgment day. 1 Murderer. Why, then he '11 say we stabbed him sleeping. 2 Murderer. The urging of that word judgment hath bred a kind of remorse in me. 1 Murderer. What ! art thou afraid t 2 Murderer. Not to kill him, having a warrant; but to be damned for killing him, from the which no warrant can de- fend me. Ill 1 Murderer. I thought thou hadst been resolute. 2 Murderer. So I am, to let him live. 1 Murderer. I '11 back to the Duke of Gloster, and tell him so. 2 Murderer. Nay, I prithee, stay a little: I hope my holy humour will change; it was wont to hold me but while one tells twenty. 1 Murderer. How dost thou feel thyself now 1 2 Murderer. Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me. 121 1 Murderer. Remember our reward when the deed 's done. 2 Murderer. Zounds ! he dies ! I had forgot the reward. 1 Murderer. Where 's thy conscience now? 2 Murde?rr. O, in the Duke of Gloster's purse. 1 Murderer. When he opens his purse to give us our re- ward, thy consience flies out. 2 Murderer. 'T is no matter; let it go: there 's few or none will entertain it. 1 Murde7'er. What if it come to thee again? 130 2 Murderer. 1 '11 not meddle with it; it makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal but it accuseth him; a man cannot swear but it checks him ; 't is a blushing, shame- faced spirit, that mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills a man full of obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold, ACT I. SCENE IV, 67 that by chance I found; it beggars any man that keeps it; it is turned out of all towns and cities for a dangerous thing; and every man that means to live well endeavours to trust to himself and live without it. 1 Murderer. Zounds! it is even now at my elbow, per- suading me not to kill the duke. 141 2 Murderer. Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him not; he would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh. 1 Murderer. I am strong-framed; he cannot prevail with me. 2 Murderer. Spoke like a tall man that respects his rep- utation. Come, shall we fall to work ? 1 Murderer. Take him on the costard with the hilts of thy sword, and then throw him into the malmsey-butt in the next room. 150 2 Murderer. O excellent device! and make a sop of him. 1 Murderer. Soft ! he wakes. 2 Murderer. Strike. I Murderer. No, we '11 reason with him. Clarence. [ Waking^ Where art thou, keeper ? give me a cup of wine. I Murderer. You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. Cla7'ence. In God's name, what art thou? T Murderer. A man, as you are. Clarence. But not, as I am, royal. I Murderer. Nor you, as we are, loyal. 160 Clarence. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. I Murde7'er. My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own. Clarence. How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak 1 Your eyes do menace me ; why look you pale ? Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come? Both Murde?'ers. To, to, to — Clarence. To murther me ? 68 RICHARD IIL Both Murderers. Ay, ay. Clarence, You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so, And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. 170 Wherein, my friends, have I offended you ? 1 Murderer. Offended us you have not, but the king. Clarence. I shall be reconcil'd to him again. 2 Murderer. Never, my lord ; therefore prepare to die. Claroice. Are you drawn forth among a world of men To slay the innocent ? What is my offence ? Where is the evidence that doth accuse me ? What lawful quest have given their verdict up Unto the frowning judge ? or who pronounc'd The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? 180 Before I be convict by course of law. To threaten me with death is most unlawful. I charge you, as you hope to have redemption By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins, That you depart, and lay no hands on me ; The deed you undertake is damnable. 1 Murderer. What we will do, we do upon command. 2 Murderer. And he that hath commanded is our king. Clarence. Erroneous vassals ! the great King of kings Hath in the table of his law commanded 190 That thou shalt do no murther; will you, then. Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's? Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hand. To hurl upon their heads that break his law. 2 Murderer. And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee For false forswearing, and for murther too. Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight In quarrel of the house of Lancaster. I Murderer. And, like a traitor to the name of God, Didst break that vow, and with thy treacherous blade 200 Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son. ACT I. SCENE IV. 69 2 Murderer. Whom thou wast sworn to cherish and defend. I Murderer. How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us, When thou hast broke it in such dear degree ? Clarence. Alas ! for whose sake did I that ill deed ? For Edward, for my brother, for his sake. He sends you not to murther me for this, For in that sin he is as deep as I. If God will be avenged for the di^^^.^ O, know you yet, he doth it publicly: 210 Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm ; He needs no indirect or lawless course To cut off those that have offended him. I Murderer. Who made thee, then, a bloody minister When gallant-springing, brave Plantagenet, That princely novice, was struck dead by thee ? Clarence. My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. 1 Murderer. Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee. Clarence. If you do love my brother, hate not me ; 220 I am his brother, and I love him well. If you are hir'd for meed, go back again, And I will send you to my brother Gloster, Who shall reward you better for my life Than Edward will for tidings of my death. 2 Murderer. You are deceiv'd; your brother Gloster hates you. Clarence. O, no; he loves me, and he holds me dear. Go you to him from me. Both Murderers. Ay, so we will. Clarence. Tell him, when that our princely father York Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm, 230 And charg'd us from his soul to love each other, He little thought of this divided friendship; Bid Gloster think on this, and he will weep. I Murderer. Ay, millstones ; as he lesson'd us to weep. 70 RICHARD III. Clarence. O, do not slander him, for he is kind. I Murderer, Right ; as snow in harvest. — Come, you de- ceive yourself; 'T is he that sends us to destroy you here. Clarence. It cannot be; for he bevvept my fortune, And hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs, That he would labour my delivery. 240 1 Murderer. Why, so he doth when he delivers you From this earth's thraldom to the joys of heaven. 2 Murde^rr. Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. Clarence. Have you that holy feeling in your souls. To counsel me to make my peace with God, And are you yet to your own souls so blind That you will war with God by murthering me } — sirs, consider, they that set you on To do this deed will hate you for the deed. 2 Murderer, What shall we do ? Clarence. Relent, and save your souls. 1 Murderer. Relent! 't is cowardly and womanish. 251 Clarence. Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish ! — Which of you, if you were a prince's son. Being pent from liberty, as I am now. If two such murtherers as yourselves came to you. Would not entreat for life 1 — My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks; O, if thine eye be not a flatterer. Come thou on my side and entreat for me. As you would beg, were you in my distress. 260 A begging prince what beggar pities not ? 2 Murderer. Look behind you, my lord. I Murderer. Take that, and that; if all this will not do, \Stabs him. 1 '11 drown you in the malmsey-butt within. \Exit^ with the body. ACT /. SCENE IV. 71 2 Murderer. A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch'd ! How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands Of this most grievous murther ! Enter First Murderer. 1 Murderer. How now ? what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not? By heaven, the duke shall know how slack you have been. 2 Murderer. I would he knew that I had sav'd his brother ! Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say, 271 For I repent me that the duke is slain. \Exit. I Murderer. So do not I: go, coward, as thou art. — Well, I '11 go hide the body in some hole, Till that the duke give order for his burial; And when I have my meed I will away. For this will out, and then I must not stay. \Exit, ACT II. Scene I. London. A Room in the Palace, Enter King Edward, led in sick, Queen Elizabeth, Dor- set, Rivers, Hastings, Buckingham, Grey, and others, Ki?ig Ed^uard. Why, so ; — now have I done a good day's work. — You peers, continue this united league : ACT II. SCENE V. 73 I every day expect an embassage From my Redeemer to redeem me hence ; And npw in peace my soul shall part to heaven, Since I have made my friends at peace on earth. — Rivers and Hastings, take each other's hand ; Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love. Rivers. By heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate : And with my hand I seal my true heart's love. 10 Hastings. So thrive I as I truly swear the like! King Edward. Take heed you dally not before your king; Lest he that is the supreme King of kings Confound your hidden falsehood and award Either of you to be the other's end. Hastings. So prosper I as I swear perfect love ! Rivers. And I as I love Hastings with my heart ! King Edward. Madam, yourself are not exempt from this, — Nor your son Dorset, — Buckingham, nor you; — You have been factious one against the other. — 10 Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand ; And what you do, do it unfeignedly. Qiieen Elizabeth. There, Hastings. — I will never more re- member Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine ! King Edward. Dorset, embrace him, — Hastings, love lord marquess. Dorset. This interchange of love, I here protest, Upon my part shall be inviolable. Hastings. And so swear I. King Edward. Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league With thy embracements to my wife's allies, 30 And make me happy in your unity. Buckingham. Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate Upon your grace [to the Queen\ but with all duteous love 74 * RICHARD III. Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me With hate in those where I expect most love ! When I have most need to employ a friend, And most assured that he is a friend, Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile. Be he unto me ! This do I beg of heaven, When I am cold in love to you or yours. 40 King Edward. A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham, Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. There wanteth now our brother Gloster here, To make the blessed period of this peace. Buckingham. And, in good time, here comes the noble duke. Enter Gloster. Gloster. Good-morrow to my sovereign king and queen ; — And, princely peers, a happy time of day ! King Edward. Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day. — Brother, we have done deeds of charity; Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate, 50 Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers. Gloster. A blessed labour, my most sovereign lord. Among this princely heap, if any here. By false intelligence or wrong surmise. Hold me a foe; If I unwittingly, or in my rage. Have aught committed that is hardly borne By any in this presence, I desire To reconcile me to his friendly peace. 'T is death to me to be at enmity; 60 I hate it, and desire all good men's love. — ■• First, madam, I entreat true peace of you, Which I will purchase with my duteous service ; — Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us; — Of you. Lord Rivers, — and. Lord Grey, of you, — ACT II. SCENE L 75 That all without desert have frown'd on me ; — Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen ; — indeed, of all. I do not know that Englishman alive With whom my soul is any jot at odds 70 More than the infant that is born to-night; I thank my God for my humility. Qiieen Elizabeth. A holy day shall this be kept hereafter; — I would to God, all strifes were well compounded. — My sovereign lord, I do beseech your highness To take our brother Clarence to your grace. Gloster. Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this. To be so flouted in this royal presence? Who knows not that the gentle duke is dead ? \They all start. You do him injury to scorn his corse. 80 Ki7ig Edward. Who knows not he is dead! who knows he is? Queen Elizabeth. All-seeing heaven, what a world is this ! Buckingham. Look I so pale. Lord Dorset, as the rest ? Dorset. Ay, my good lord; and no man in the presence But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. King Edward. Is Clarence dead? the order was revers'd. Gloster, But he, poor man, by your first order died, And that a winged Mercury did bear; Some tardy cripple bare the countermand. That came too lag to see him buried. 90 God grant that some, less noble and less loyal, Nearer in bloody thoughts, but not in blood, Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did. And yet go current from suspicion ! Enter Stanley. Stanley. A boon, my sovereign, for my service done ! King Edward. I prithee, peace ; my soul is full of sorrow^ Stanley, I will not rise, unless your highness hear me. 76 RICHARD III. King Edward. Then say at once what is it thou re- quest'st. Stanley. The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life, Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman loo Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk. Ki7ig Ed7vard. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death, And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave ? My brother kill'd no man ; his fault was thought, And yet his punishment was bitter death. Who sued to me for him ? who, in my wrath, Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advis'd? AVho spoke of brotherhood ? who spoke of love .^ Who told me how the poor soul di'd forsake The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me ? no Who told me, in the field at Tewksbury, When Oxford had me down, he rescued me, And said, ' Dear brother, live, and be a king?' Who told me, when we both lay in the field. Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me Even in his garments, and did give himself. All thin and naked, to the numb-cold night? All this from my remembrance brutish wrath Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you Had so much grace to put it in my mind. 120 But when your carters or your waiting-vassals Have done a drunken slaughter, and defac'd The precious image of our dear Redeemer, You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; And I, unjustly too, must grant it you. But for my brother not a man would speak. Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself For him, poor soul. — The proudest of you all Have been beholding to him in his life. Yet none of you would once beg for his life. — 130 ACT II. SCENE 11. 77 God, I fear thy justice will take hold On me and you, and mine and yours, for this ! — Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. — Ah, poor Clarence ! \Exeunt King^ Queen, Hastings, Rivers, Dorset, and Grey. Gloster. This is the fruit of rashness. — Mark'd you not How that the guilty kindred of the queen Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death? O, they did urge it still unto the king ! God will revenge it. Come, lords ; will you go To comfort Edward with our company ? 140 Buckingham. We wait upon your grace. \Exeunt. Scene H. Another Room in the Palace. Enter the Duchess of York, with the two children of Clar- ence. Boy. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead .^ Duchess. No, boy. Girl. Why do you weep so oft? and beat your breast, And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son !' Boy. Why do you look on us, and shake your head, And call us orphans, wretches, castaways. If that our noble father be alive ? Duchess. My pretty cousins, you mistake me both. 1 do lament the sickness of the king, As loath to lose him, not your father's death; 10 It were lost sorrow to wail one that 's lost. Boy. Then you conclude, my grandam, he is dead ? The king mine uncle is to blame for it: God will revenge it; whom I will importune With earnest prayers all to that effect. Girl. And so will I. Duchess. Peace, children, peace ! the king doth love you well. 78 RICHARD III. Incapable and shallow innocents, You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death. Boy. Grandam, we can ; for my good uncle Gloster 20 Told me the king, provok'd to it by the queen, Devised impeachments to imprison him; And when my uncle told me so, he wept. And pitied me, and kindly kiss'd my cheek, Bade me rely on him as on my father. And he would love me dearly as a child. Duchess. Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shape, And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice ! He is my son, ay, and therein my shame. Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. 30 Boy. Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam t Duchess. Ay, boy. Boy. I cannot think it. Hark ! what noise is this t Enter Queen Elizabeth, distractedly^ with her hair dishev- elled ; Rivers and Dok^kt following her. Queen Elizabeth. Ah, who shall hinder me to wail and weep. To chide my fortune and torment myself.^ I '11 join with black despair against my soul. And to myself become an enemy. Duchess. What means this scene of rude impatience ? Queen Elizabeth. To make an act of tragic violence: — Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead ! — 40 Why grow the branches when the root is gone ? Why wither not the leaves that want their sap 1 If you will live, lament; if die, be brief, That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's. Or, like obedient subjects, follow him To his new kingdom of ne'er-changing night. Duchess. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow As I had title in thy noble husband. ACT II. SCENE II 79 I have bewept a worthy husband's death, And liv'd with looking on his images ; 50 But now two mirrors of his princely semblance Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death, And I for comfort have but one false glass, That grieves me when I see my shame in him. Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother, And hast the comfort of thy children left : But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms. And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble hands, Clarence and Edward. O, what cause have I, Thine being but a moiety of my moan, 60 To overgo thy woes, and drown thy cries ! Boy. Ah, aunt, you wept not for our father's death \ How can we aid you with our kindred tears ? Girl. Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd ; Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept ! Queen Elizabeth. Give me no help in lamentation ; I am not barren to bring forth complaints. All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, That I, being govern'd by the watery moon, May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world ! 70 Ah, for my husband, for my dear lord Edward ! Children. Ah, for our father, for our dear lord Clarence ! Duchess. Alas for both ! both mine, Edward and Clarence ! Queen Elizabeth. What stay had I but Edward? and he 's gone. Children. What stay had we but Clarence ? and he 's gone. Duchess. What stays had I but they ? and they are gone. Queen Elizabeth. Was never widow had so dear a loss. Children. Were never orphans had so dear a loss. Duchess. Was never mother had so dear a loss. Alas, I am the mother of these griefs ! 80 Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general. \ She for an Edward weeps, and so do I; 8o RICHARD III, I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I; I for an Edward weep, so do not they: — Alas, you three on me threefold distress'd Pour all your tears ! I am your sorrow's nurse, And I will pamper it with lamentation. Dorset. Comfort, dear mother ! God is much displeas'd That you take with unthankfulness his doing. 90 In common worldly things 't is call'd ungrateful With dull unwillingness to repay a debt Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; Much more to be thus opposite with heaven For it requires the royal debt it lent you. Rivers. Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, Of the young prince your son: send straight for him ; Let him be crown'd: in him your comfort lives. Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. 10c Enter Gloster, Buckingham, Stanley, Hastings, Rat- cliff, and others. Gloster, Sister, have comfort : all of us have cause To wail the dimming of our shining star; But none can help our harms by wailing them. — Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy ; I did not see your grace. — Humbly on my knee I crave your blessing. Duchess. God bless thee, and put meekness in thy breast, Love, charity, obedience, and true duty. Gloster. Amen; [aside] and make me die a good old man ! — That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing; no I marvel that her grace did leave it out. Buckingham. You cloudy princes and heart -sorrowing peers, ACT 11. SCENE IL 8l That bear this heavy mutual load of moan, Now cheer each other in each other's love; Though we have spent our harvest of this king, We are to reap the harvest of his son. The broken rancour of your high-swoln hearts, But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together. Must gently be preserv'd, cherish'd, and kept. Me seemeth good, that, with some little train, 120 Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fet Hither to London, to be crown'd our king. Rivers, Why with some little train, my Lord of Bucking- ham ? Buckmgha7n. Marry, my lord, lest, by a multitude, The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out; Which would be so much the more dangerous By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd. Where every horse bears his commanding rein, And may direct his course as please himself. As well the fear of harm as harm apparent, 130 In my opinion, ought to be prevented. Gloster, I hope the king made peace with all of us: And the compact is firm and true in me. Rivers. And so in me; and so, I think, in all: Yet, since it is but green, it should be put To no apparent likelihood of breach. Which, haply, by much company might be urg'd. Therefore, I say with noble Buckingham, That it is meet so few should fetch the prince. Hastings. And so say I. ,^0 Gloster. Then be it so ; and go we to determine Who they shall be. that straight shall post to Ludlow. — Madam, — and you, my sister, — will you go To give your censures in this business ? \_Exeunt all but Buckingham and Gloster Buckingham. My lord, whoever journeys to the prince, F 82 RICHARD II L For God's sake, let not us two stay at home : For, by the way, I '11 sort occasion. As index to the story we late talk'd of. To part the queen's proud kindred from the prince. Gloster, My other self, my counsel's consistory, 150 My oracle, ray prophet ! — My dear cousin, I, as a child, will go by thy direction. Towards Ludlow then, for we '11 not stay behind. , \_Exeunt. Scene III. London. A Street. Enter two Citizens, meeting. 1 Citizen. Good morrow, neighbour; whither away so fast .'^ 2 Citizen. I promise you, I scarcely know myself Hear you the news abroad t 1 Citizen. Yes, that the king is dead. 2 Citizen. Ill news, by 'r lady; seldom comes the better: I fear, I fear, 't will prove a giddy world. Enter another Citizen. 3 Citizen. Neighbours, God speed ! 1 Citizen. Give you good morrow, sir. 3 Citizen. Doth the news hold of good King Edward's death 1 2 Citizen. Ay, sir, it is too true ; God help the while ! 3 Citizen. Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. 1 Citizen. No, no; by God's good grace, his son shall reign. 10 3 Citizen. Woe to that land that 's govern'd by a child ! 2 Citizen. In him there is a hope of government, That in his nonage council under him, And in his full and ripen'd years himself, No doubt shall then and till then govern well. I Citizen. So stood the state when Henry the Sixth Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. ACT 11. SCENE III. 83 3 Citizen. Stood the state so? no, no, good friends, God wot; For then this land was famously enrich'd With politic §rave counsel; then the king 20 Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace. I Citizen, Why, so hath this, both by his father and mother. 3 Citizen. Better it were they all came by his father, Or by his father there were none at all; For emulation, who shall now be nearest, Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not. O, full of danger is the Duke of Gloster ! And the queen's sons and brothers haught and proud ; And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule. This sickly land might solace as before. 30 1 Citizen, Come, come, we fear the worst ; all will be well. 3 Citizen. i\^\\^^ clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks; When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand ; )^ When the sunsets, who doth not look for night? ■ Untimely storms make men expect a dearth. All may be well; but, if God sort it so, 'T is more than we deserve, or I expect 2 Citizen. Truly, the hearts of men are full of fear : You cannot reason almost with a man That looks not heavily and full of dread. 40 3 Citizen. Before the days of change, still is it so. By a divine instinct men's minds mistrust Ensuing danger ; as by proof we see The water swell before a boist'rous storm. But leave it all to God. Whither away ? 2 Citizen. Marry, we were sent for to the justices. 3 Citizen. And so was I ; I '11 bear you company. \^Exeii?it. 84 RICHARD II L Scene IV. Lo7ido7i. A Room in the Palace. Enter the Archbishop of York, the young Duke of York, Queen Elizabeth, and the Duchess of York. Archbishop. Last night I heard they lay at Northampton; At Stony Stratford they do rest to-night: To-morrow or next day they will be here. Duchess. I long with all my heart to see the prince. I hope he is rnuch grown since last I saw him. Queen Elizabeth. But I hear no; they say my son of York Hath almost overta'en him in his growth. York. Ay, mother, but I would not have it so. Duchess. Why, my young cousin, it is good to grow. York. Grandam, one night as we did sit at supper, lo My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow More than my brother; ' Ay,' quoth my uncle Gloster, * Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace.' And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast. Because sweet flowers are slow, and weeds make haste. Duchess. Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold In him that did object the same to thee; He was the wretched'st thing when he was young, So long a-growing, and so leisurely. That, if his rule were true, he should be gracious. 20 Archbishop. And so, no doubt, he is, my gracious madam. Duchess. I hope he is ; but yet let mothers doubt. York. Now, by my troth, if I had been remember'd, I could have given my uncle's grace a flout. To touch his growth nearer than he touch'd mine. Duchess. How, my young York? I prithee, let me hear it. York. Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old ; 'T was full two years ere I could get a tooth. Grandam, this would have been a biting jest. * 30 ACT II, SCENE IV. 85 Duchess. I prithee, pretty York, who told thee this ? York. Grandam, his nurse. Duchess. His nurse! why, she was dead ere thou wast born. York. If 't were not she, I cannot tell who told me. Queen Efizabeth. A parlous boy! Go to, you are too shrewd. Archbishop. Good madam, be not angry with the child. Queen Elizabeth. Pitchers have ears. Enter a Messenger. Archbishop. Here comes a messenger: what news .^^ Messenger. Such news, my lord, as grieves me to report. Queen Elizabeth. How doth the prince? Messenger. Well, madam, and in health. Duchess. What is thy news ? 41 Messenger. Lord Rivers and Lord Grey are sent to Pom- fret, And with them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners. Duchess. Who hath committed them.^ Messenger. The mighty dukes, Gloster and Buckingham. Archbishop. For what offence ? Messenger. The sum of all I can, I have disclosed: Why or for what the nobles were committed Is all unknown to me, my gracious lord. Queen Elizabeth. Ay me, I see the ruin of my house ! The tiger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind; so Insulting tyranny begins to jut Upon the innocent and aweless throne. — Welcome destruction, blood, and massacre I I see, as in a map, the end of all. Duchess. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days, How many of you have mine eyes beheld ! My husband lost his life to get the crown \ And often up and down my sons were toss'd, 86 RICHARD III, For me to joy and weep their gain and loss: And being seated, and domestic broils 60 Clean overblown, themselves, the conquerors, Make war upon themselves ; brother to brother, Blood to blood, self against self: — O, preposterous And frantic outrage, end thy damned spleen. Or let me die, to look on death no more ! Queen Elizabeth. Come, come, my boy; we will to sanc- tuary. — Madam, farewell. Duchess. Stay, I will go with you. Queefi Elizabeth. You have no cause. Archbishop. My gracious lady, go, \_To the Queen. And thither bear your treasure and your goods. For my part, I '11 resign unto your grace 70 The seal I keep; and so betide to me As well I tender you and all of yours! Come, I '11 conduct you to the sanctuary. [Exeunt. POM FRET (iii. 3). ACT III. Scene I. London. A Street, The trumpets sound. Enter the Prince of Wales, Gloster, Buckingham, Cardinal Bouchier, Catesby, and others. Buckingham. Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber. Gloster. Welcome, dear cousin, my thought's sovereign; The weary way hath made you melancholy. Prince. No, uncle ; but our crosses on the way Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy: I want more uncles here to welcome me. 88 RICHARD III, Gloster. Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit. (No more can you distinguish of a man Than of his outward show; which, God he knows, lo Seldom or never jumpeth with the heart. > Those uncles which you want were dangerous; Your grace attended to their sugar'd words. But look'd not on the poison of their hearts : God keep you from them, and from such false friends ! Prince. God keep me from false friends ! but they were none. Gloster. My lord, the mayor of London comes to greet you. Enter the Lord Mayor and his Train. Mayor. God bless your grace with health and happy days ! Prince. I thank you, good my lord ; and thank you all. — T thought my mother and my brother York 20 Would long ere this have met us on the way; Fie! what a slug is Hastings, that he comes not To tell us whether they will come or no ! Enter Hastings. Biickingha77i. And, in good time, here comes the sweating lord. Prince. Welcome, my lord. What! will our mother come.^ Hastings. On what occasion, God he knows, not I, The queen your mother and your brother York Have taken sanctuary; the tender prince Would fain have come with me to meet your grace, But by his mother was perforce withheld. 30 Buckingham. Fie! what an indirect and peevish course Is this of hers ! — Lord cardinal, will your grace Persuade the queen to send the Duke of York Unto his princely brother presently? — ACT III. SCENE I. 89 If she deny, Lord Hastings, go with him, And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce. Cardinal. My Lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory Can from his mother wnn the Duke of York, Anon expect him here; but, if she be obdurate To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid 40 We should infringe the holy privilege Of blessed sanctuary! not for all this land Would I be guilty of so great a sin. Buckingham. You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord, Too ceremonious and traditional ; Weigh it but with the grossness of this age, You break not sanctuary in seizing him. The benefit thereof is always granted To those whose dealings have deserv'd the place, And those who have the wit to claim the place. 5c This prince hath neither claim'd it nor deserv'd it; And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it : Then, taking him from thence that is not there, You break no privilege nor charter there. Oft have I heard of sanctuary men. But sanctuary children ne'er till now\ Cardinal. My lord, you shall o'er - rule my mind for once. — Come on, Lord Hastings, will you go with me ? Hastings. I go, my lord. 59 Prifice. Good lords, make all the speedy haste you may. — \^Exeunt Cardinal a?id Hastings. Say, uncle Gloster, if our brother come, Where shall we sojourn till our coronation ? Gloster. Where it think'st best unto your royal self. If I may counsel you, some day or tw^o Your highness shall repose you at the Tower; Then w^here you please, and shall be thought most fit For your best health and recreation. go RICHARD III. Prince. I do not like the Tower, of any place. — Did Julius Caesar build that place, my lord ? 69 BuckmgJia7?i. He did, my gracious lord, begin that place^ Which, since, succeeding ages have re-edified. Frijice. Is it upon record, or else reported Successively from age to age, he built it? Buckingham. Upon record, my gracious lord. Prince. But say, my lord, it were not register'd, Methinks the truth should live from age to age, As 't were retail'd to all posterity, Even to the general all-ending day. Gloster. [Aside] So wise so young, they say, do never live long. Prince. What say you, uncle ? 80 Gloster. I say, without characters fame lives long. — [Aside] Thus, like the formal Vice, Iniquity, I moralize two meanings in one word. Prince. That Julius Caesar was a famous man ; With what his valour did enrich his wit, His wit set down to make his valour live. Death makes no conquest of his conqueror; For now he lives in fame, though not in life. — I '11 tell you what, my cousin Buckingham,— Bucki7igha77i. What, my gracious lord } 90 Prince. An if I live until I be a man, I '11 win our ancient right in France again, Or die a soldier, as I liv'd a king. Gloster. [Aside] Short summers lightly have a forward Enter York, Hastings, and the Cardinal. Buckingham. Now, in good time, here comes the Duke of York. Prince. Richard of York, how fares our noble brother? York. Well, my dread lord ; so must I call you now. ACT III. SCENE I. 91 Prince, Ay, brother, to our grief, as it is yours. Too late he died that might have kept that title, Which by his death hath lost much majesty. 100 Gloster. How fares our cousin, noble Lord of York ? York. I thank you, gentle uncle. O, my lord, You said that idle weeds are fast in growth ; The prince my brother hath outgrown me far. Gloster, He hath, my lord. York. And therefore is he idle ? Gloster. O, my fair cousin, I must not say so. York. Then he is more beholding to you than I. Gloster. He may command me as my sovereign, But you have power in me as in a kinsman. York. I pray you, uncle, give me this dagger. no Gloster. My dagger, little cousin ? with all my heart. Pri7ice. A beggar, brother ? York. Of my kind uncle, that I know will give ; And being but a toy, which is no grief to give. Gloster. A greater gift than that I '11 give my cousin. York. A greater gift ? O, that 's the sword to it. Gloster. Ay, gentle cousin, were it light enough. York. O, then, I see, you '11 part but with light gifts ; In weightier things you '11 say a beggar nay. Gloster. It is too weighty for your grace to wear. 120 York. I weigh it lightly, were it heavier. Gloster. What ! would you have my weapon, little lord? York. I would, that I might thank you as you call me. Gloster. How? York. Little. Prince. My Lord of York will still be cross in talk. — Uncle, your grace knows how to bear with him. York. You mean, to bear me, fiot to bear with me.— Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me ; Because that I am little, like an ape, 130 He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders. 92 RICHARD III. Buckingham. With what a sharp-provided wit he reasons ! To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle, He prettily and aptly taunts himself. So cunning, and so young, is wonderful. Gloster. My lord, will 't please you pass along ? Myself and my good cousin Buckingham Will to your mother, to entreat of her To meet you at the Tower and welcome you. York. What ! will you go unto the Tower, my lord? 140 Prince. My lord protector needs will have it so. York. I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower. Gloster. Why, what should you fear ? York. Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost; My grandam told me he was murther'd there. Prince. I fear no uncles dead. Gloster. Nor none that live, I hope. Prince. An if they live, I hope I need not fear. But come, my lord ; and, with a heavy heart, Thinking on them, go I unto the Tower. iso \^A sennet. Exeunt Prince^ York, Hastings, Cardinal, and Attendants. Buckingham. Think you, my lord, this little prating York Was not incensed by his subtle mother To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously ? Gloster. No doubt, no doubt. O, 't is a parlous boy ! Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable ; He 's all the mother's, from the top to toe. Buckingham. Well, let them rest. — Come hither, Catesby. Thou art sworn as deeply to effect what we intend As closely to conceal what we impart. Thou know'st our reasons urg'd upon the way; — 160 What think'st thou? is it n(^ an easy matter To make William Lord Hastings of our mind. For the instalment of this noble duke In the seat royal of this famous isle? ACT III. SCENE /. 93 Catesby. He for his father's sake so loves the prince That he will not be won to aught against him. Bucki7igham. What think'st thou then of Stanley ? will not he'? Catesby, He will do all in all as Hastings doth. Buckingham. Well, then, no more but this. Go, gentle Catesby, And, as it were far off, sound thou Lord Hastings 170 How he doth stand affected to our purpose ; And summon him to-morrow to the Tower, To sit about the coronation. If thou dost find him tractable to us, Encourage him, and tell him all our reasons : If he be leaden, icy-cold, unwilling. Be thou so too, and so break off the talk, And give us notice of his inclination ; For we to-morrow hold divided councils. Wherein thyself shalt highly be employ'd. iSo Glosier. Commend me to Lord William : tell him, Catesby, His ancient knot of dangerous adversaries To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret Castle ; And bid my lord, for joy of this good news. Give Mistress Shore one gentle kiss the more. Buckingham. Good Catesby, go, effect this business soundly. Catesby. My good lords both, with all the heed I can. Gloster. Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we sleep ? Catesby. You shall, my lord. 189 Gloster. At Crosby House, there shall you find us both. \^Exit Catesby. Buckingham. Now, my lord, what shall we do, if we per- ceive Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots? Gloster. Chop off his head, man; — something we will de- termine. 94 RICHARD IIL And, look, when I am king, claim thou of me The earldom of Hereford, and all the movables Whereof the king my brother was possess'd. Buckingham. I '11 claim that promise at your grace's hand. Gloster. And look to have it yielded with all kindness. Come, let us sup betimes, that afterwards 199 We may digest our complots in some form. \Exeunt, Scene II. Before Lord Hastings's House. Enter a Messenger. Messenger, My lord ! my lord ! — [Knocking, Hastings. [ Within.'] Who knocks ? Messenger. One from the Lord Stanley. Hastings. [Within.] What is 't o'clock.^ Messenger, Upon the stroke of four. Enter Hastings. Hastings. Cannot my Lord Stanley sleep these tedious nights? Messenger. So it appears by that I have to say. First, he commends him to your noble self Hastiiigs. What then ? Messenger. Then certifies your lordship that this night 10 He dreamt the boar had rased off his helm ; Besides, he says, there are two councils kept. And that may be determin'd at the one Which may make you and him to rue at the other. Therefore, he sends to know your lordship's pleasure, If you will presently take horse with him, And with all speed post with him toward the north, To shun the danger that his soul divines. Hastings. Go, fellow, go, return unto thy lord. Bid him not fear the separated council : 20 His honour and myself are at the one, ACT III. SCENE II. C)5 And at the other is my good friend Catesby; Where nothing can proceed that toucheth us Whereof I shall not have intelligence. Tell him his fears are shallow, without instance 3 And for his dreams— I wonder he 's so simple To trust the mockery of unquiet slumbers. To fly the boar before the boar pursues Were to incense the boar to follow us, And make pursuit where he did mean no chase. 30 Go, bid thy master rise and come to me; And we will both together to the Tower, Where, he shall see, the boar will use us kindly. Messenger. I '11 go, my lord, and tell him what you say. \_Exit Enter Catesby. Catesby. Many good morrows to my noble lord ! Hastings. Good morrow, Catesby; you are early stirring. What news, what news, in this our tottering state? Catesby. It is a reeling world, indeed, my lord; And, I believe, will never stand upright Till Richard wear the 2:arland of the realm. fc)^ 40 Hastings. How ! wear the garland ! dost thou mean the crown t Catesby. Ay, my good lord. Hastings. I '11 have this crown of mine cut from my shoulders, Before I '11 see the crown so foul misplac'd. But canst thou guess that he doth aim at it ? Catesby. Ay, on my life, and hopes to find you forward Upon his party for the gain thereof; And thereupon he sends you this good news, — That this same very day your enemies, The kindred of the queen, must die at Pomfret. 50 Hasti?tgs. Indeed, I am no mourner for that news, Because they have been still my adversaries; 96 RICHARD III, But that I '11 give my voice on Richard's side. To bar my master's heirs in true descent, God knows I will not do it, to the death. Catesby. God keep your lordship in that gracious mind ! Hastmgs. But I shall laugh at this a twelvemonth hence. That they which brought me in my master's hate, I live to look upon their tragedy. Well, Catesby, ere a fortnight make me older, ^ I '11 send some packing that yet think not on 't. Catesby, 'T is a vile thing to die, my gracious lord, When men are unprepar'd and look not for it. Hastings. O, monstrous, monstrous ! and so falls it out With Rivers, Vaughan, Grey ; and so 't will do With some men else, who think themselves as safe As thou and I, who, as thou know'st, are dear To princely Richard and to Buckingham. Catesby. The princes both make high account of you ; [Asi^e] For they account his head upon the bridge. 70 Hastings. I know they do, and I have well deserv'd it. — Enter Stanley. Come on, come on; where is your boar-spear, man ? Fear you the boar, and go so unprovided 1 Stanley. My lord, good morrow^ ; — good morrow, Catesby. — You may jest on, but, by the holy rood, I do not like these several councils, I. Hasti7igs. My lord, I hold my life as dear as yours; And never in my days, I do protest. Was it so precious to me as 't is now. Think you, but that I know our state secure, 80 I would be so triumphant as I am .^ Stanley. The lords at Pomfret, when they rode from London, Were jocund and suppos'd their states were sure. And they, indeed, had no cause to mistrust ; ACT III. SCENE IL 97 But yet, you see, how soon the day o'ercast. This sudden stab of rancour I misdoubt ; Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward ! What, shall we toward the Tower ? the day is spent. Hastings, Come, come, have with you. — Wot you what, my lord ? To-day the lords you talk of are beheaded. 90 Stanley, They for their truth might better wear their heads Than some that have accus'd them wear their hats. But come, my lord, let 's away. Efiter a Pursuivant. Hastings, Go on before ; I '11 talk with this good fellow.— \Exeunt Stanley and Catesby, How now, sirrah ! how goes the world wath thee ? Pursuivant, The better that your lordship please to asko Hastings, I tell thee, man, 't is better with me now Than when thou met'st me last where now we meet : Then was I going priso^ner to the Tower, By the suggestion of the queen's allies; . 100 But now I tell thee — keep it to thyself— This day those enemies are put to death. And I in better state than ere I was. Pursuivant, God hold it to your honour's good content ! Hastings. Gramercy, fellow. There, drink that for me. [^Throwing him his purse. Pursuivant, I thank your honour. \Exit, Enter a Priest. Priest, Well met, my lord ; I am glad to see your honour. Hastings, I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my heart. I am in your debt for your last exercise ; Come the next Sabbath, and I will content you. no G 98 RICHARD IIL Enter Buckingham. Buckingham. What, talking with a priest, lord chamber- lain ! Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the priest ; Your honour hath no shriving work in hand. Hastmgs. Good faith, and when I met this holy man, The men you talk of came into my mind. What, go you toward the Tower ? Buckingham. I do, my lord, but long I cannot stay there; I shall return before your lordship thence. Hastings. Nay, like enough, for I stay dinner there. Buckingham. [Aside] And supper too, although thou know'st it not. — ,20 Come, will you go ? Hastings. I '11 wait upon your lordship. [Exeunt. Scene III. Pomfret. Before the Castle. Enter Ratcliff, with a Guard, co7iducting Rivers, Grey, and Vaughan to exectition. Rivers. Sir Richard Ratcliff, let me tell thee this, — To-day shalt thou behold a subject die For truth, for duty, and for loyalty. Grey. God bless the prince from all the pack of you I A knot you are of damned blood-suckers. Vaughan. You live that shall cry woe for this hereafter. Ratcliff^. Dispatch; the limit of your lives is out. Rivers. O Pomfret, Pomfret ! O thou bloody prison, Fatal and ominous to noble peers ! Within the guilty closure of thy walls, lo Richard the Second here was hack'd to death : And, for more slander to thy dismal seat, We give to thee our guiltless blood to drink. Grey. Now Margaret's curse is fallen upon our heads, ACT III. SCENE IV. 99 When she exclaim'd on Hastings, you, and I, For standing by when Richard stabb'd her son. Rivers. Then curs'd she Richard, then curs'd she Buck- ingham, Then curs'd she Hastings. — O, remember, God, To hear her prayer for them, as now for us ! And for my sister and her princely sons, 20 Be satisfied, dear God, with our true blood, Which, as thou know'st, unjustly must be spilt ! Ratdiff. Make haste ; the hour of death is expiate. Rivers. Come, Grey, — come, Vaughan, — let us here em- brace : Farewell until we meet again in heaven. [Exeunt. Scene IV. London. A Room in the Tower, Buckingham, Stanley, Hastings, the Bishop of Ely, Catesby, Lovel, and others., sitting at a table; Officers of the Council attendiftg. Hastings. Now, noble peers, the cause why we are met Is to determine of the coronation. In God's name, speak, — when is this royal day? Buckingham. Is all things ready for the royal time? Stanley. It is, and wants but nomination. Ely. To-morrow then I judge a happy day. Buckingham. Who knows the lord protector's mind herein ? Who is most inward with the noble duke ? Ely. Your grace, we think, should soonest know his mind. Buckingham. We know each other's faces : for our hearts, He knows no more of mine than I of yours; u Nor I of his, my lord, than you of mine. — Lord Hastings, you and he are near in love. Hastings. I thank his grace, I know he loves me well; But for his purpose in the coronation, I have not sounded him, nor he delivered lOO RICHARD IIL His gracious pleasure any way therein : But you, my noble lords, may name the time, And in the duke's behalf I '11 give my voice. Which, I presume, he '11 take in gentle part. 20 Enter Gloster. Ely. In happy time, here comes the duke himself. Gloster. My noble lords and cousins all, good morrow. I have been long a sleeper; but I trust My absence doth neglect no great design Which by my presence might have been concluded. Buckingham. Had you not come upon your cue, my lord, William Lord Hastings had pronounc'd your part, I mean your voice for crowning of the king. Gloster. Than my Lord Hastings no man might be bolder; His lordship knows me well, and loves me well. — 30 My Lord of Ely, when I was last in Holborn, I saw good strawberries in your garden there; I do beseech you, send for some of them. Ely. Marry, and will, my lord, with all my heart. \Exit Ely. Gloster. Cousin of Buckingham, a ^vord with you. \Takes him aside. Catesby hath sounded Hastings in our business, And finds the testy gentleman so hot. That he will lose his head ere give consent His master's child, as worshipfully he terms it, Shall lose the royalty of England's throne. 40 Buckingham. Withdraw yourself a while ; I '11 go with you. \Exewit Gloster a?td Buckingham. Stanley. We have not yet set down this day of triumph. To-morrow, in my judgment, is too sudden ; For I myself am not so well provided As else I would be, were the day prolong'd. ACT III. SCENE IV. 10 1 Enter Bishop of Ely. Ely. Where is my lord, the Duke of Gloster? I have sent for these strawberries. Hastings. His grace looks cheerfully and smooth this morning; There 's some conceit or other likes him well When that he bids good morrow with such spirit. 50 I think there 's never a man in Christendom Can lesser hide his love or hate than he; For by his face straight shall you know his heart. Stanley. What of his heart perceive you in his face By any livelihood he show'd to-day ? Hastmgs. Marry, that with no man here he is offended; For were he, he had shown it in his looks. Enter Gloster and Buckingham. Gloster. I pray you all, tell me what they deserve That do conspire my death with devilish plots Of damned witchcraft, and that have prevail'd 60 Upon my body with their hellish charms 1 Hastings. The tender love I bear your grace, my lord, Makes me most forward in this princely presence To doom the offenders, whosoe'er they be ; I say, my lord, they have deserved death. Gloster. Then be your eyes the witness of their evil. Look how I am bewitch'd ; behold mine arm Is like a blasted sapling wither'd up : And this is Edw^ard's wife, that monstrous witch, Consorted with that harlot strumpet Shore, 7c That by their witchcraft thus have marked me. Hastings. If they have done this deed, my noble lord, — Gloster. If! thou protector of this damned strumpet, Talk'st thou to me of ifs? — Thou art a traitor ! — Off with his head ! — now, by Saint Paul I swear, 102 RICHARD III. I will not dine until I see the same. — Lovel and Ratcliff, look that it be done ; — The rest that love me, rise and follow me. \^Exeunt Council^ with Gloster and Buckingham. Hastings. Woe, woe, for England ! not a whit for me ; For I, too fond, might have prevented this. 80 Stanley did dream the boar did rase his helm ; And I did scorn it, and disdain to fly. Three times to-day my foot-cloth horse did stumble_, And started when he look'd upon the Tower, As loath to bear me to the slaughter-house. O, now I need the priest that spake to me ! I now repent I told the pursuivant. As too triumphing, how mine enemies To-day at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd, And I myself secure in grace and favour. — 90 Margaret, Margaret, now thy heavy curse Is lighted on poor Hastings' wretched head ! Ratcliff. Come, come, dispatch; the duke would be at dinner: Make a short shrift ; he longs to see your head. Hasti7igs. O, momentary grace of mortal men, Which we more hunt for than the grace of God ! Who builds his hope in air of your good looks, Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast. Ready wdth every nod to tumble down Into the fatal bowels of the deep. 100 Lovel. Come, come, dispatch ; 't is bootless to exclaim. Hastifigs. O, bloody Richard ! — miserable England ! 1 prophesy the fearfull'st time to thee That ever wretched age hath look'd upon.— Come, lead me to the block ; bear him my head : . They smile at me who shortly shall be dead. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE V, 103 Scene V. The Toiuer Walls. Enter Gloster and Buckingham, in rotten armour^ marvel- lous ill-favoured. Gloster. Come, cousin, canst thou quake, and change thy colour, Murther thy breath in middle of a word, And then again begin, and stop again, As if thou wert distraught and mad with terror? Buckiftgkam. Tut ! I can counterfeit the deep tragedian, Speak and look back, and pry on every side, Tremble and start at wagging of a straw, Intending deep suspicion ; ghastly looks Are at my service, like enforced smiles, And both are ready in their offices 10 At any time to grace my stratagems. But what ! is Catesby gone ? Gloster. He is; and, see, he brings the mayor along. Enter the Lord Mayor and Catesby. Buckingham. Lord mayor, — Gloster. Look to the drawbridge there 1 Buckingham. Hark ! a drum. Gloster. Catesby, o'erlook the walls. Buckingham. Lord mayor, the reason we have sent — Gloster. Look back, defend thee, here are enemies. Buckingham. God and our innocence defend and guard us! Enter Lovel ^^^Ratcliff, with Hastings's head. Gloster. Be patient, they are friends, Ratcliff and Lovel. 20 Lovel. Here is the head of that ignoble traitor, The dangerous and unsuspected Hastings. Gloster. So dear I lov'd the man, that I must weep. I04 RICHARD II L 1 took him for the plainest harmless creature That breath'd upon the earth a Christian, Made him my book wherein my soul recorded .The history of all her secret thoughts; So smooth he daub'd his vice with show of virtue, That, his apparent open guilt omitted, — I mean his conversation with Shore's wife, — 30 He liv'd from all attainder of suspect. Bucki7igha77i. Well, well, he was the covert'st sheltered traitor That ever liv'd.— Would you imagine, or almost believe, Were 't not that, by great preservation, W^e live to tell it, that the subtle traitor This day had plotted, in the council-house. To murther me and my good Lord of Gloster? Mayor. Had he done so.^ Gloster. What ! think you we are Turks or infidels? 40 Or that we would, against the form of law. Proceed thus rashly in the villain's death, But that the extreme peril of the case. The peace of England, and our persons' safety, Enforc'd us to this execution ? Mayor. Now, fair befall you ! he deserv'd his death; And your good graces both have well proceeded. To warn false traitors from the like attempts. B2icki7igha77i. I never look'd for better at his hands, After he once fell in with Mistress Shore: 50 Yet had we not determin'd he should die. Until your lordship came to see his end; Which now the loving haste of these our friends. Something against our meanings, hath prevented: Because, my lord, I would have had you heard The traitor speak and timorously confess The manner and the purpose of his treasons, ACT II L SCEXE V, 105 That you might well have signified the same Unto the citizens, who haply may Misconstrue us in him and wail his death. 60 Mayor, But, my good lord, your grace's word shall serve, As well as I had seen and heard him speak: And do not doubt, right noble princes both. But I '11 acquaint our duteous citizens With all your just proceedings in this case. Gloster, And to that end we wish'd your lordship here, To avoid the censures of the carping world. Buckingham, But since you come too late of our intent, Yet witness what you hear we did intend; And so, my good lord mayor, we bid farewell. 70 S^Exit Lord Mayor, Gloster. Go, after, after, cousin Buckingham. The mayor towards Guildhall hies him in all post. There, at your meetest vantage of the time. Infer the bastardy of Edward's children ; Tell them how Edward put to death a citizen, Only for saying he would make his son Heir to the crown, meaning indeed his house. Which by the sign thereof was termed so. Moreover, urge his hateful luxury, And bestial appetite in change of lust; So Which stretch'd unto their servants, daughters, wives, Even where his raging eye or savage heart Without control lusted to make a prey. Nay, for a need, thus far come near my person : Tell them when that my mother went with child Of that insatiate Edward, noble York, My princely father, then had wars in France, And by true computation of the time Found that the issue was not his begot ; Which well appeared in his lineaments, 9c Being nothing like the noble duke my father. io6 RICHARD III. Yet touch this sparingly, as 't were far off; Because, my lord, you know my mother lives. Buckingham. Doubt not, my lord, I '11 play the orator As if the golden fee for which I plead Were for myself; and so, my lord, adieu. Gloster. If you thrive well, bring them to Baynard's Cas- tle, Where you shall find me well accompanied With reverend fathers and well-learned bishops. Biicki7igham. I go ; and towards three or four o'clock loo Look for the news that the Guildhall affords. \Exit, Gloster. Go, Lovel, with all speed to Doctor Shaw, — Go thou \to Catesby\ to Friar Penker ; — bid them both Meet me within this hour at Baynard's Castle. — [^Exeunt Lovel and Cafesby, Now will I go to take some privy order To draw the brats of Clarence out of sight; And to give order that no manner person Have any time recourse unto the princes. [^Exit. Scene VI. A Street Enter a Scrivener. Scrivener. Here is the indictment of the good Lord Hast- ings, Which in a set hand fairly is engross'd, That it may be to-day read o'er in Paul's; And mark how well the sequel hangs together. Eleven hours I have spent to write it over. For yesternight by Catesby was it sent me. The precedent was full as long a-doing; And yet within these five hours Hastings liv'd. Untainted, unexamined, free, at liberty. Here 's a good w^orld the while ! Who is so gross, lo That cannot see this palpable device ? ACT III. SCENE VJL 107 Yet who so bold but says he sees it not ? Bad is the world; and all will come to nought, When such ill dealing must be seen in thought. \Exit, Scene VII. Baynard's Castle. Enter Gloster and Buckingham, 7neeting. Gloster. How now, how now ! what say the citizens ? Buckingham. Now^ by the holy mother of our Lord, The citizens are mum, say not a w^ord. Gloster. Touch'd you the bastardy of Edward's children ? Bicckmghani. I did ; with his contract with Lady Lucy, And his contract by deputy in France; The insatiate greediness of his desires, And his enforcement of the city wives; His tyranny for trifles ; his own bastardy, As being got, your father then in France, 10 And his resemblance, being not like the duke. Withal I did infer your lineaments. Being the right idea of your father. Both in your form and nobleness of mind; Laid open all your victories in Scotland, Your discipline in v/ar, wisdom in peace, Your bounty, virtue, fair humility; Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose Untouch'd or slightly handled in discourse : And when my oratory drew toward end, 20 I bade them that did love their country's good Cry * God save Richard, England's royal king !' Gloster. And did they so ? Biickifigham, No, so God help me, they spake not a word, But, like dumb statuas or breathing stones, Star'd each on other and look'd deadly pale; AVhich w^hen I saw^, I reprehended them, And ask'd the mayor what meant this wilful silence. Io8 RICHARD III. His answer was, the people were not us'd To be spoke to but by the recorder. 30 Then he was urg'd to tell my tale again : — *Thus saith the duke, thus hath the duke inferr'd/ But nothing spoke in warrant from himself. When he had done, some followers of mine own At lower end of the hall hurl'd up their caps. And some ten voices cried, ' God save King Richard 1^ And thus I took the vantage of those few, — 'Thanks, gentle citizens and friends,' quoth I, * This general applause and cheerful shout Argues your wisdom and your love to Richard/ 40 And even here brake off and came away. Gloster. What tongueless blocks were they ! would they not speak ? Will not the mayor then and his brethren come ? Buckingham. The mayor is here at hand. Intend some fear ; Be not you spoke with but by mighty suit. And look you get a prayer-book in your hand, And stand between two churchmen, good my lord ; For on that ground I '11 make a holy descant. And be not easily won to our requests ; Play the maid's part, still answer nay, and take it. 50 Gloster, I go; and if you plead as w^ell for them As I can say nay to thee for myself, No doubt we bring it to a happy issue. Buckingham. Go, go, up to the leads ; the lord mayor knocks.' — S^Exit Gloster, Enter the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Citizens. Welcome, my lord : I dance attendance here; I think the duke will not be spoke withal. — Enter Gates by. Now, Catesby, what says your lord to my request? ACT III. SCENE VIL 109 Catesby. He doth entreat your grace, my noble lord, To visit him to-morrow or next day. He is within, with two right reverend fathers, 60 Divinely bent to meditation; And in no w^orldly suits would he be mov'd To draw hirn from his holy exercise. Buckingham, Return, good Catesby, to the gracious duke ; Tell him, myself, the mayor and aldermen, In deep designs, in matter of great moment. No less importing than our general good, Are come to have some conference with his grace. Catesby. I '11 signify so much unto him straight. \Exit. Buckingham, Ah, ha, my lord, this prince is not an Ed- ward ! 70 He is not lolling on a lewd love-bed, But on his knees at meditation; Not dallying with a brace of courtesans, But meditating with two deep divines; Not sleeping to engross his idle body. But praying to enrich his watchful soul. Happy were England would this virtuous prince Take on his grace the sovereignty thereof; But sure, I fear, w^e shall not win him to it. 79 Mayor. Marry, God defend his grace should say us nay ! Buckingham. I fear he will. Here Catesby comes again. — Enter Catesby. Now, Catesby, what says his grace ? Catesby. He wonders to what end you have assembled Such troops of citizens to come to him; His grace not being warn'd thereof before, He fears, my lord, you mean no good to him. Buckingham. Sorry I am my noble cousin should Suspect me, that I mean no good to him : By heaven, we come to him in perfect love; 89 no RICHARD III. And so once more return and tell his grace.- — \Exit Catesby, When holy and devout religious men Are at their beads, 't is much to draw them thence, So sweet is zealous contemplation. Efiter Gloster, in a gallery above., between two Bishops. Catesby returns. Mayor. See, where his grace stands 'tween two clergy- men ! Buckingham. Two props of virtue for a Christian prince, To stay him from the fall of vanity; And, see, a book of prayer in his hand. True ornament to know a holy man. — Famous Plantagenet, most gracious prince, Lend favourable ear to our requests, loo And pardon us the interruption Of thy devotion and right Christian zeal. Gloster. My lord, there needs no such apology: I do beseech your grace to pardon me, Who, earnest in the service of my God, Deferr'd the visitation of my friends. But, leaving this, what is your grace's pleasure.'^ Bucki7igha77i. Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above. And all good men of this ungovern'd isle. Gloster. I do suspect I have done some offence no That seems disgracious in the city's eye. And that you come to reprehend my ignorance. Bucki7igham. You have, my lord; would it might please your grace On our entreaties to amend your fault ! Gloster. Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land? Bucki7ighat7i. Know then, it is your fault that you resign The supreme seat, the throne majestical, • The sceptred office of your ancestors. ACT III SCENE VI L m Your state of fortune and your due of birth, The lineal glory of your royal house, 120 To the corruption of a blemish'd stock ; Whiles, in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts. Which here we waken to our country's good, This noble isle doth want her proper limbs; Her face defac'd with scars of infamy. Her royal stock graft with ignoble plants, And almost shoulder'd in the swallowing gulf Of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion. Which to recure, we heartily solicit Your gracious self to take on you the charge 130 And kingly government of this your land ; Not as protector, steward, substitute, Or lowly factor for another's gain. But as successively from blood to blood, Your right of birth, your empery, your own. For this, consorted with the citizens. Your very worshipful and loving friends. And by their vehement instigation, In this just cause come I to move your grace. Gloster. I cannot tell, if to depart in silence, 140 Or bitterly to speak in your reproof. Best fitteth my degree or your condition : If not to answer, — you might haply think Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty. Which fondly you would here impose on me ; If to reprove you for this suit of yours, So season'd with your faithful love to me, Then, on the other side, I check'd my friends. Therefore, to speak and to avoid the first, 150 And then, in speaking, not to incur the last. Definitively thus I answer you : Your love deserves my thanks, but my desert 112 RICHARD III. Unmeritable shuns your high request. First, if all obstacles were cut away, And that my path were even to the crown, As the ripe revenue and due of birth, Yet so much is my poverty of spirit. So mighty and so many my defects. That I would rather hide me from my greatness, x6o Being a bark to brook no mighty sea, Than in my greatness covet to be hid, And in the vapour of my glory smother'd. But, God be thank'd, there is no need of me, — And much I need to help you, were there need. The royal tree hath left us royal fruit. Which, mellow'd by the stealing hours of time, Will well become the seat of majesty, And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign. On him I lay that you would lay on me, 170 The right and fortune of his happy stars, — Which God defend that I should wring from him ! Buckingham. My lord, this argues conscience in your grace ] But the respects thereof are nice and trivial, All circumstances well considered. You say that Edward is your brother's son: So say we too, but not by Edward's wife \ For first was he contract to Lady Lucy — Your mother lives a witness to his vow — And afterward by substitute betroth'd x8o To Bona, sister to the King of France. These both put off, a poor petitioner, A care-craz'd mother to a many sons, A beauty-waning and distressed widow, Even in the afternoon of her best days. Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye, Seduc'd the pitch and height of his degree ACT TIL SCENE VIL 113 To base declension and loath'd bigamy. By her, in his unlawful bed, he got This Edward, whom our manners call the prince. 190 More bitterly could I expostulate, Save that, for reverence to some alive, I give a sparing limit to my tongue. Then, good my lord, take to your royal self This proffered benefit of dignity ; If not to bless us and the land withal, Yet to draw^ forth your noble ancestry From the corruption of abusing times Unto a lineal true-derived course. Mayor. Do, good my lord, your citizens entreat you. 200 Buckingham, Refuse not, mighty lord, this profifer'd love. Catesby. O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit ! Gloster, Alas, why would you heap this care on me ? I am unfit for state and majesty. I do beseech you, take it not amiss ; I cannot nor I will not yield to you. Buckingham. If you refuse it, — as in love and zeal, Loath to depose the child, your brother's son ; As well we know your tenderness of heart, And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse, 210 Which we have noted in you to your kindred, And equally, indeed, to all estates, — Yet know, whether you accept our suit or no. Your brother's son shall never reign our king; But we will plant some other in your throne, To the disgrace and downfall of your house. And in this resolution here we leave you. — Come, citizens, we will entreat no more. \Exit Buckingham ; the Mayor ^ Aldermen^ and Citizens retiring, Catesby. Call him again, sweet prince, accept their suit; If you deny them, all the land will rue it. 220 H 114 RICHARD III, Gloster. Will you enforce me to a world of cares ? Call them again. I am not made of stone, But penetrable to your kind entreaties, Albeit against my conscience and my soul. — Re-e7iter Buckingham and the rest. Cousin of Buckingham, and sage, grave men, Since you will buckle fortune on my back, To bear her burthen, whether I will or no, I must have patience to endure the load: But if black scandal or foul-fac'd reproach Attend the sequel of your imposition, 230 Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me From all the impure blots and stains thereof; For God doth know, and you may partly see, How far I am from the desire of this. Mayor. God bless your grace ! we see it, and will say it. Gloster. In saying so, you shall but say the truth. Buckingham. Then I salute you with this royal title, — Long live King Richard, England's worthy king! All. Amen. 239 Buckingham. To-morrow may it please you to be crown'd ? Gloster. Even when you please, for you wnll have it so. Buckingham. To-morrow, then, we will attend your grace ; And so most joyfully we take our leave. Gloster. Come, let us to our holy work again. — [ To the Bishops. Farewell, my cousin;— farewell, gentle friends. \Exeunt, ACT IV. Scene I. Befo7'e the Tower. Enter^ on one side, Queen Elizabeth, Duchess of York, and Marquis of Dorset; on the other, Anne Duchess OF Gloster, leadz?ig Lady Margaret Plantagenet, Clarence's young daughter. Duchess. Who meets us here ? — my niece Plantagenet Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloster ! Now. for my life, she 's wanderin^: to the Tower, Il6 RICHARD III, On pure heart's love to greet the tender princes. — • Daughter, well met. Anne. God give your graces both A happy and a joyful time of day! Queen Elizabeth. As much to you, good sister! whither away ? Anne. No farther than flie Tower, and, as I guess, Upon the like devotion as yourselves. To gratulate the gentle princes there. <>. io Queen Elizabeth. Kind sister, thanks; w^e '11 enter all to- gether : And, in good time, here the lieutenant comes. — E7iter Brakenbury. Master lieutenant, pray you, by your leave. How doth the prince, and my young son of York? Brakenbury. Right well, dear madam. By your patience, I may not suffer you to visit them ; The king hath strictly charg'd the contrary. Queen Elizabeth. The king ! who 's that ? Brakenbury. I mean the lord protector. Queen Elizabeth. The Lord protect him from that kingly title! Hath he set bounds between their love and me ? 20 I am their mother; who shall bar me from them .^ Duchess. I am their father's mother; I will see them. Anne. Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother: Then bring me to their sights; I '11 bear thy blame. And take thy office from thee, on my peril. Brakenbury, No, madam, no; I may not leave it so: I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me. \Exit, Enter Stanley. Stanley. Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence, And I '11 salute your grace of York as mother ACT IV, SCENE I. 117 And reverend looker-on of two fair queens. — 30 Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster, \To the Duchess of Gloster, There to be crowned Richard's royal queen. Queen Elizabeth. Ah, cut my lace asunder. That my pent heart may have some scope to beat, Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news ! A7ine. Despiteful tidings ! O, unpleasing news ! Dorset. Be of good cheer. — Mother, how fares your grace ? Queen Elizabeth. O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee gone ! Death and destruction dog thee at thy heels; Thy mother's name is ominous to children. 40 If thou wilt outstrip death, go cross the seas. And live with Richmond from the reach of hell. Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughter-house, Lest thou increase the number of the dead. And make me die the thrall of Margaret's curse, — Nor mother, wife, nor England's counted queen. Stanley. Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam. — Take all the swift advantage of the hours ; You shall have letters from me to my son In your behalf, to meet you on the way : 50 Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay. Duchess. O, ill-dispersing wind of misery! — O, my accursed womb, the bed of death ! A cockatrice hast thou hatch'd to the world, Whose unavoided eye is murtherous. Stanley. Come, madam, come ; I in all haste was sent. Anne. And I with all unwillingness will go. — O, would to God that the inclusive verge Of golden metal that must round my brow Were red-hot steel to sear me to the brain ! 60 Anointed let me be with deadly venom, And die ere men can say, God save the queen ! ii8 RICHARD III. Quee?i Elizabeth. Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory; To feed my humour wish thyself no harm. Aime. No ! why ? — When he that is my husband now Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse, When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his hands Which issued from my other angel husband. And that dear saint which then I weeping follow'd, — O, when, I say, I look'd on Richard's face, 70 This was my wish : ' Be thou,' quoth I, ' accurs'd, For making me, so young, so old a widow! And, when thou wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy bed; And be thy wife — if any be so mad — More miserable by the life of thee Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death!' Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again, Within so small a time, my woman's heart Grossly grew captive to his honey words. And prov'd the subject of mine own soul's curse, So Which hitherto hath held mine eyes from rest; For never yet one hour in his bed Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep. But with his timorous dreams was still awak'd. Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick, And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me. Queen Elizabeth, Poor heart, adieu ! I pity thy complain- ing. Anfie. No more than with my soul I mourn for yours. Dorset. Farewell, thou woful welcomer of glory ! Anne. Adieu, poor soul, that tak'st thy leave of it ! 90 Duchess. Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee!— [To Dorset. Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee ! — \_To Anne. Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee ! — \To Queen Elizabeth. ACT IV. SCEiVE J/. 119 I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me ! Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen, And each hour's joy wrack'd with a week of teen. Qii€e?i Elizabeth. Stay yet, look back with me unto the Tower. — Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes Whom envy hath immur'd within your walls, Rough cradle for such little pretty ones ! loc Rude ragged nurse, old sullen play-fellow For tender princes, use my babies well ! So foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell. {Exeunt. Scene II. A Room of State in the Palace. A sennet. Enter Richard, crowned, and in state; Bucking- ham, Catesby, a Page, a7id others. King Richard. Stand all apart.— Cousin of Buckingham ! Buckitigham. My gracious sovereign. {Richard ascends the throne. The trumpets sound. King Richard. Give me thy hand. Thus high, by thy ad- vice And thy assistance, is King Richard seated. — But shall we wear these glories for a day? Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them } Buckingham. Still live they, and forever let them last ! King Richard. Ah, Buckingham, now do I play the touch, To try if thou be current gold indeed! — Young Edward lives. — Think now what I would speak. Buckingham. Say on, my loving lord. King Richard. Why, Buckingham, I say I would be king. Buckingha^n. Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned lord. Ki7ig Richard. Ha ! am I king.? T is so; but Edward lives. Buckinghain. True, noble prince. King Richard. O, bitter consequence, J20 RICHARD IIL That Edward still should live !— *True, noble prince !'— Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull. — Shall I be plain ? — I wish the bastards dead, And I would have it suddenly perform'd. What say'st thou now? speak suddenly; be brief. 20 Buckingham. Your grace may do your pleasure. Ki7ig Richard. Tut, tut ! thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes. Say, have I thy consent that they shall die ? Buckingham. Give me some little breath, some pause, dear lord. Before I positively speak in this; I will resolve you herein presently. \Exit. Catesby. [Aside to another] The king is angry; see, he gnaws his lip. King Richard. I will converse with iron-witted fools [Descends from his throne. And unrespective boys; none are for me That look into me with considerate eyes. 30 High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect. — Boy! Page. My lord.^ King Richard. Know'st thou not any whom corrupting gold Will tempt unto a close exploit of death "> Page. I know a discontented gentleman. Whose humble means match not his haughty spirit; Gold were as good as twenty orators. And will, no doubt, tempt him to any thing. 39 Ki?ig Richard, What is his name.^ Page. His name, my lord, is Tyrrel. King Richard. I partly know the man ; go, call him hither, boy. — [Exit Page, The deep-revolving witty Buckingham No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels. ACT IV. SCENE 11. 121 Hath he so long held out with me untir'd, And stops he now for breath ? — well, be it so. — Enter Stanley. How now, Lord Stanley ? what 's the news ? Stanley. Know, my loving lord, The Marquis Dorset, as I hear, is fled To Richmond, in the parts where he abides. Ki7ig Richard. Come hither, Catesby: rumour it abroad 50 That Anne my wife is very grievous sick; I will take order for her keeping close. Inquire me out some mean poor gentleman, Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' daughter. — The boy is foolish, and I fear not him. — Look, how thou dream'st ! — I say again, give out That Anne my queen is sick, and like to die. About it; for it stands me much upon To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me. — \Exit Catesby. I must be married to my brother's daughter, 60 Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass. — Murther her brothers, and then marry her ? Uncertain way of gain! But I am in So far in blood, that sin will pluck on sin. Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye. — Enter Page, with Tyrrel. Is thy name Tyrrel } Tyrrel. James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject. King Richard. Art thou, indeed } Tyrrel. Prove me, my gracious lord. King Richard. Dar'st thou resolve to kill a friend of mine } Tyrrel. Please you ; but I had rather kill two enemies. 70 King Richard. Why, then thou hast it; two deep enemies, Foes to my rest and my sweet sleep's disturbers, 12 2 RICHARD III. Are they that I would have thee deal upon. Tyrrel, I mean those bastards in the Tower. Tyrrel, Let me have open means to come to them, And soon I '11 rid you from the fear of them. King Richard. Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrel ; Go, by this token. — Rise, and lend thine ear. [ Whispers. There is no more but so ; — say it is done, And I will love thee and prefer thee for it. 8© Tyrrel. I will dispatch it straight. \^Exit. Enter Buckingham. Buckingham. My lord, I have consider'd in my mind The late demand that you did sound me in. King Richard. Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to Rich- mond. Buckingham. I hear the news, my lord. King Richard. Stanley, he is your wife's son; — w^ell, look unto it. Buckingham. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise, For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd; The earldom of Hereford and the movables Which you have promised I shall possess. 9c King Richard. Stanley, look to your wife; if she convey Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it. Buckingham. What says your highness to my just request ? King Richard. I do remember me, — Henry the Sixth Did prophesy that Richmond should be king, When Richmond was a little peevish boy. A king! — perhaps — Buckinghafn. My lord, — King Richard. How chance the prophet could not at that time Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him ? loo Buckingham. My lord, your promise for the earldom, — ACT IV. SCENE IL 123 King Richard. Richmond! — When last I was at Exeter, The mayor in courtesy show'd me the castle, And call'd it Rougemont; at which name I started, Because a bard of Ireland told me once, I should not live long after I saw Richmond. Buckijigham. My lord, — King Richard. Ay; what 's o'clock ? Buckingham. I am thus bold to put your grace in mind Of what you promis'd me. nc King Richard. Well, but what 's o'clock ? Buckingham. Upon the stroke of ten. King Richard. Well, let it strike. Buckingham. Why let it strike .^ King Richard. Because that, like a Jack, thou keep'st the stroke Betwixt thy begging and my meditation. I am not in the giving vein to-day. Buckingham. Why, then resolve me whether you will or no. King Richard. Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. \_Exeunt King Richard and Train, Buckingham. And is it thus? repays he my deep service With such contempt? made I him king for this? O, let me think on Hastings, and be gone 12c To Brecknock, while my fearful head is on. \ExiL 124 RICHARD III. Scene III. The Same, Enter Tyrrel. Tyrrel. The tyrannous and bloody act is done. The most arch deed of piteous massacre That ever yet this land was guilty of. Dighton and Forrest, whom I did suborn To do this piece of ruthful butchery, Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs, Melted with tenderness and mild compassion. Wept like two children in their death's sad story. ' O, thus,' quoth Dighton, ' lay the gentle babes,' — 'Thus, thus,' quoth Forrest, 'girdling one another Within their alabaster innocent arms; Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, And in their summer beauty kiss'd each other. A book of prayers on their pillow lay. Which once,' quoth Forrest, 'almost chang'd my mind; But, O, the devil' — there the villain stopp'd j When Dighton thus told on, — ' We smothered The most replenished sweet work of Nature That from the prime creation e'er she fram'd.' Hence both are gone with conscience and remorse. They could not speak; and so I left them both, To bear this tidings to the bloody king. Enter King Richard. And here he comes. — All health, my sovereign lord ! King Richard. Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in thy news? Tyrrel. If to have done the thing you gave in charge Beget your happiness, be happy then. For it is done. King Richard. But didst thou see them dead .^ Tyrrel. I did, my lord. ACT IV. SCENE III, 1 25 King Richard. And buried, gentle Tyrrel ? Tyrrel. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them ; But where, to say the truth, I do not know. 30 King Richa7'd. Come to me, Tyrrel, soon, and after supper. When thou shalt tell the process of their death. Meantime, but think how I may do thee good. And be inheritor of thy desire. Farewell till then. Tyrrel. I humbly take my leave. \Exit. King Richard. The son of Clarence have I pent np close; His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage; The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom. And Anne my wife hath bid this world good night. Now, for I know the Breton Richmond aims 40 At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter. And by that knot looks proudly on the crown. To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer. Enter Catesby. Catesby. My lord !— King Richard. Good or bad news, that thou com'st in so bluntly? Catesby. Bad news, my lord ; Morton is fled to Richmond, And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welshmen, Is in the field, and still his power increaseth. Kifig Richard. Ely with Richmond troubles me more near Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength. 50 Come, I have learn'd that fearful commenting Is leaden servitor to dull delay; Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary : Then fiery expedition be my wing, Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king ! Go, muster men ; my counsel is my shield. We must be brief when traitors brave the field. [Exeunt. 126 RICHARD III Scene IV. Before the Palace. Enter Queen Margaret. Queen Margaret. So, now prosperity begins to mellow And drop into the rotten mouth of death. Here in these confines slyly have I lurk'd, To watch the waning of mine enemies. A dire induction am I witness to, And will to France, hoping the consequence Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical. Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret; who comes here.^ [^Retiring. Enter Queen Elizabeth and the Duchess of York. Qjieen Elizabeth. Ah, my poor princes ! ah, my tender babes ! My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets ! ic If yet your gentle souls fly in the air, And be not fix'd in doom perpetual. Hover about me with your airy wings, And hear your mother's lamentation ! Quee?i Margaret. Hover about her; say that right for right Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night. Duchess. So many miseries have craz'd my voice, That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute. — Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead ? Queen Margaret. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet, 20 Edward for Edward pays a dying debt. Queen Elizabeth. Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs, And throw them in the entrails of the wolf? ^^ When didst thou sleep when such a deed was done ? Queen Margaret, When holy Harry died, and my sweet son. ACT IV, SCENE IV. 127 Duchess. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal living ghost. Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life usurp'd, Brief abstract and record of tedious days. Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth, [^Sitting down. Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood ! 30 Queen Elizabeth. Ah, that thou wouldst as soon afford a grave As thou canst yield a melancholy seat ! Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here. Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but we ? \_Sitting down by her. Queen Margaret. If ancient sorrow be most reverent, [ Coming forward. Give mine the benefit of seniory. And let my griefs frown on the upper hand. If sorrow can admit society, ^Sitting down with them. Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine. — I had an Edward till a Richard kill'd him ; 40 I had a Harry till a Richard kill'd hmi: Thou hadst an Edward till a Richard kill'd him; Thou hadst a Richard till a Richard kill'd him. Duchess. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him ; I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him. Queen Margaret. Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard kill'd him. From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept A hell-hound that doth hunt us all to death; That dog that had his teeth before his eyes, To worry lambs and lap their gentle blood, 50 That foul defacer of God's handiwork. That excellent grand tyrant of the earth. That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls, Thy womb let loose to chase us to our graves. — - O upright, just, and true-disposing God, How do I thank thee that this carnal cur 128 RICHARD III. Preys on the issue of his mother's body, And makes her pew-fellow with others' moan! Duchess. O, Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes ! God witness with me, I have wept for thine. 60 Queen Margaret. Bear with me; I am hungry for re- venge, And now I cloy me with beholding it. Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward; Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward ; Young York he is but boot, because both they Match not the high perfection of my loss. Thy Clarence he is dead, that stabb'd my Edward; And the beholders of this frantic play, Th' adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves. 70 Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer. Only reserv'd their factor to buy souls And send them thither; but at hand, at hand. Ensues his piteous and unpitied end: Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray, To have him suddenly convey'd from hence. — Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray. That I may live and say. The dog is dead ! Queen Elizabeth. O, thou didst prophesy the time would come That I should wish for thee to help me curse 80 I That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad ! Queen Margaret. I call'd thee then vain flourish of my fortune ; I call'd thee then poor shadow, painted queen; The presentation of but what I was. The flattering index of a direful pageant, One heav'd a-high, to be hurl'd down below: A mother only mock'd with two fair babes ; A dream of what thou wast ; a garish flag, ACT IK SCENE IV, 129 To be the aim of every dangerous shot ; A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble; 90 A queen in jest, only to fill the scene. Where is thy husband now ? where be thy brothers ? Where be thy two sons ? wherein dost thou joy ? Who sues, and kneels, and says, God save the queen ? Where be the bending peers that flattered thee ? Where be the thronging troops that followed thee ? Decline all this, and see what now thou art. For happy wife, a most distressed widow; For joyful mother, one that wails the name; For one being sued to, one that humbly sues; 100 For queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care: For one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me; For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one ; For one commanding all, obey'd of none. Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about, And left thee but a very prey to time: Having no more but thought of what thou wast To torture thee the more, being what thou art. Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow .^ nc Now thy proud neck bears half my burthen'd yoke; From which even here I slip my wearied head, And leave the burthen of it all on thee. Farewell, York's wife, and queen of sad mischance; These English woes shall make me smile in France. Queen Elizabeth. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay a while. And teach me how to curse mine enemies. Queen Margaret. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the day; Compare dead happiness with living woe; Think that thy babes were sweeter than they were, 120 And he that slew them fouler than he is: I 130 RICHARD III. Bettering thy loss makes the bad causer worse; Revolving this will teach thee how to curse. * Queen Elizabeth. My words are dull; O, quicken them with thine ! Qtieen Margaret. Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce like mine. [^Exit Queen Margaret. Duchess. Why should calamity be full of words 1 Queen Elizabeth. Windy attorneys to their client woes, Airy succeeders of intestate joys. Poor breathing orators of miseries ! Let them have scope; though what they will impart 130 Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart. Duchess. If so, then be not tongue-tied; go with me, And in the breath of bitter words let 's smother My damned son, that thy two sweet sons smother'd. \_A trumpet heard^ The trumpet sounds; be copious in exclaims. \^ Enter King Richard and his train^ ?narchi?ig. King Richard. Who intercepts me in my expedition ? Duchess. O, she that might have intercepted thee. By strangling thee in her accursed womb, From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done. Queen Elizabeth. Hid'st thou that forehead with a golden crown, 140 Where should be branded, if that right were right. The slaughter of the prince that owed that crown, And the dire death of my poor sons and brothers ? Tell me, thou villain slave, where are my children ? Duchess. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother Clar- ence, And little Ned Plantagenet, his son ? Queen Elizabeth. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Grey? Duchess. Where is kind Hastings.^ ACT IV. SCENE IV. 131 Ki7tg Richard. A flourish, trumpets! — strike alarum, drums ! Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women 150 Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I say ! — \Flourish. Alarwjis. Either be patient and entreat me fair, Or with the clamorous report of war Thus will I drown your exclamations. Duchess. Art thou my son ? King Richard. Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself. Duchess. Then patientl^^ hear ^\y impatience. Kiitg Richard. Madam, I have a touch of yA.r condition, That cannot brook the accent of reproof Duchess. O, let me speak. Kiug Richard. Do, then ; but I '11 not hear. Duchess. I will be mild and gentle in my words. i6i King Richard. And brief, good mother, for I am in haste. Duchess. Art thou so hasty ? I have stay'd for thee, God knows, in torment and in agony. King Richard. And came I not at last to comfort you .^^ Duchess. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well, Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell. A grievous burthen was thy birth to me : Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; Thy school-days frightful, desperate, wild, and furious; 170 Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous; Thy age confirmed, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody. More mild but yet more harmful, kind in hatred: What comfortable hour canst thou name That ever grac'd me with thy company ? King Richard. Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that call'd your grace To breakfast once forth of my company. If I be so disgracious in your eye. 132 RICHARD III, Let me march on, and not offend you, madam. — Strike up the drum ! Duchess, I prithee hear me speak. rso Ki7ig Richard. You speak too bitterly. JDuchess. Hear me a word; For I shall never speak to thee again. King Richard, So. Duchess, Either thou wilt die by God's just ordinance, Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror. Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish, And n^ver more behold thy face .igain. Therefore ikkq. with thee my most grievous curse, Which in the day of battle tire thee more Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st ! 190 My prayers on the adverse party fight ; And there the little souls of Edward's children Whisper the spirits of thine enemies, And promise them success and victory. Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end ; Shame serves thy life, and doth thy death attend. \^Exit Queen Elizabeth. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse Abides in me; I say amen to her. \G0i71g, King Richard. Stay, madam, I must talk a word with you. Queen Elizabeth. I have no more sons of the royal blood For thee to slaughter; for my daughters, Richard, 201 They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens. And therefore level not to hit their lives. King Richard. You have a daughter calTd Elizabeth, Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious. Queen Elizabeth, And must she die for this? O, let her live. And I '11 corrupt her manners, stain her beauty^ Slander myself as false to Edward's bed^ Throw over her the veil of infamy ! ACT IV, SCENE IV. 133 So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter, 210 I will confess she was not Edward's daughter. Kmg Richard. Wrong not her birth ; she is a royal princess. Queen Elizabeth. To save her life, I '11 say she is not so. King Richard. Her life is safest only in her birth. Quee7t Elizabeth. And only in that safety died her broth- ers. King Richard. Lo, at their birth good stars were op- posite. Queen Elizabeth. No, to their lives ill friends were con- trary. King Richard. All unavoided is the doom of destiny. Queen Elizabeth. True, when avoided grace makes des- tiny. My babes were destin'd to a fairer death, 220 If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life. King Richard. You speak as if that I had slain my cousins. Queen Elizabeth. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle cozen'd Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. Whose hand soever lanc'd their tender hearts, Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction : No doubt the murtherous knife was dull and blunt Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart To revel in the entrails of my lambs. But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame, 230, My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes; And I, in such a desperate bay of death. Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft, Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom. King Richard. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise And dangerous success of bloody wars 134 RICHARD II L As I intend more good to you and yours Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd ! Qiieefi Elizabeth. What good is cover'd with the face of heaven, 240 To be discover'd, that can do me good? King Richard. The advancement of your children, gentle lady. Queen Elizabeth. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads ? King Richard. Unto the dignity and height of fortune, The high imperial type of this earth's glory. Queen Elizabeth. Flatter my sorrow with report of it; Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour, Canst thou demise to any child of mine 1 King Richard. Even all I have; ay, and myself and all, AVill I withal endow a child of thine, 250 So in the Lethe of thy angry soul Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs Which thou supposest I have done to thee. Queen Elizabeth. Be brief, lest that the process of thy kindness Last longer telling than thy kindness' date. King Richard. Then know that from my soul I love thy daughter. Queen Elizabeth. My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul. King Richard. What do you think? Queen Elizabeth. That thou dost love my daughter from thy soul. So from thy soul's love didst thou love her brothers ; 260 And from my heart's love I do thank thee for it. King Richard. Be not so hasty to confound my mean- ing. I mean, that with my soul I love thy daughter, And do intend to make her queen of England, ACT IV. SCENE IV. 135 Queen Elizabeth. WelJ, then, who dost thou mean shall be her king? King Richard. Even he that makes her queen ; who else should be ? Queen Elizabeth. What, thou ? King Richard. Even so ; how think you of it ? Queen Elizabeth. How canst thou woo her? King Richard. That I would learn of you, As one being best acquainted with her humour. 270 Queen Elizabeth. And wilt thou learn of me? King Richard. Madam, with all my heart. Queen Elizabeth. Send to her, by the man that slew her brothers, A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave Edward and York; then haply will she weep: Therefore present to her — as sometime Margaret Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood — A handkerchief, which, say to her, did drain The purple sap from her sweet brothers' bodies, And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal. 280 If this inducement move her not to love. Send her a letter of thy noble deeds : Tell her thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence, Her uncle Rivers ; ay, and for her sake, Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne. King Richard. You mock me, madam ; this is not the way To win your daughter. Queen Elizabeth. There is no other way, Unless thou couldst put on some other shape. And not be Richard that hath done all this. King Richard. Say that I did all this for love of her? 290 Queen Elizabeth. Nay, then indeed she cannot choose but love thee, Having bought love with such a bloody spoil. Ki7ig Richard. Look, what is done cannot be now amended ; 136 RICHARD III. Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, Which after-hours give leisure to repent. If I did take the kingdom from your sons, To make amends I '11 give it to your daughter. If I have kill'd the issue of your womb, To quicken your increase I wdll beget Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter. 300 A grandam's name is little less in love Than is the doting title of a mother : They are as children but one step below, Even of your mettle, of your very blood ; Of all one pain, save for a night of groans Endur'd of her for whom you bid like sorrow. Your children were vexation to your youth, But mine shall be a comfort to your age. The loss you have is but a son, being king, And by that loss your daughter is made queen. 310 I cannot make you what amends I would, Therefore accept such kindness as I can. Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul Leads discontented steps in foreign soil, This fair alliance quickly shall call home To high promotions and great dignity. The king that calls your beauteous daughter wife, Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother; Again shall you be mother to a king. And all the ruins of distressful times 320 Repair'd with double riches of content. What ! we have many goodly days to see : The liquid drops of tears that you have shed Shall come again transformed to orient pearl, Advantaging their loan with interest Of ten-times-double gain of happiness. Go then, my mother, to thy daughter go: Make bold her bashful years with your experience ; ACT IV. SCENE IV. m Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale ; Put in her tender heart the aspiring flame 330 Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the princess With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys: And when this arm of mine hath chastised The petty rebel, duU-brain'd Buckingham, Bound with triumphant garlands will I come, And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed ; 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 ? 340 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. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance. Queen Elizabeth. Which she shall purchase with still-last- ing war. King Richard. Tell her the king, that may command, en- treats. Queoi Elizabeth. That at her hands which the king's King forbids. King Richard. Say she shall be a high and mighty queen. Queen Elizabeth. To wail the title as her mother doth. King Richard. Say I will love her everlastingly. 351 Queen Elizabeth. But how long shall that title ^ever' last? King Richard. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end. Queen Elizabeth. But how long fairly shall her sweet life last? King Richard. As long as heaven and nature lengthens it. Queen Elizabeth. As long as hell and Richard likes of it. King Richard. Say I, her sovereign, am her subject low. 138 RICHARD III, /' Queen Elizabeth. But she, your subject, loathes such sov- ereignty. King Richard. Be eloquent in my behalf to her. Queen Elizabeth. An honest tale speeds best being plainly told. 360 N^ King Richard. Then plainly to her tell my loving tale. Queen Elizabeth. Plain, and not honest, is too harsh a style. Ki?ig Richard. 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 graves. King Richard. Harp not on that string, madam ; that is past. Queen Elizabeth. Harp on it still shall I, till heart-strings break. Ki?ig Richard. Now, by my George, my garter, and my crown, — Queen Elizabeth. Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third usurp'd. Ki?tg Richard. I swear — Queen Elizabeth. By nothing; for this is no oath. Thy George, profan'd, hath lost his lordly honour ; 371 Thy garter, blemish'd, pawn'd his knightly virtue; Thy crown, usurp'd, disgrac'd his kingly glory. If something thou wouldst swear to be believ'd, Swear then by something that thou hast not wrong'd. Ki?ig Richard. Then by myself, — Quee?t Elizabeth. Thyself is self-misus'd. King Richard. Now by the world, — Queen Elizabeth. 'T is full of thy foul wrongs. King Richard. My father's death, — Queen Elizabeth. Thy life hath it dishonour'd. King Richard. Why, then, by God, — Queen Elizabeth. God's wrong is most of all. If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by Him, 380 ACT IV, SCENE IV, 139 The unity the king my husband made Thou hadst not broken, nor my brother slain. If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by Him, The imperial metal, circling now thy head, Had grac'd the tender temples of my child; And both the princes had been breathing here, Which now, two tender bedfellows for dust. Thy broken faith hath made the prey for worms. What canst thou swear by now? King Richard. The time to come. Queen Elizabeth. That thou hast wronged in the time o'erpast; 390 For I myself have many tears to wash Hereafter time, for time past wrong'd by thee. The children live whose fathers thou hast slaughtered, Ungovern'd youth, to wail it with their age ; The parents live whose children thou hast butcher'd. Old barren plants, to wail it with their age. Swear not by time to come ; for that thou hast Misused ere us'd, by times ill-us'd o'erpast. Kiiig Richard. As I intend to prosper and repent. So thrive I in my dangerous affairs 400 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 proceeding, if, with dear 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 myself and thee. Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul, 410 Death, desolation, ruin, and decay: It cannot be avoided but by this; It will not be avoided but by this. j^o RICHARD III Therefore, dear mother, — I must call 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 found in great designs. 4ig Queen Elizabeth. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus ? King Richard. Ay, if the devil tempts thee to do good Qiieen Elizabeth. Shall I forget myself to be myself.^ King Richard. Ay, if your self's remembrance wrong your- self. Queen Elizabeth. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? King Richard, 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. Bear her my true love's kiss, and so fare- well. — [Exit Queen Elizabeth. Relenting fool, and shallow, changing woman ! — How now ! what news t 430 Enter '^KTQXAYY \ (ZxTY.'^Wi following. Ratcliff. Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast Rideth a puissant navy; to our shores Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, Unarm'd, and unresolv'd to beat them back. 'T is thought that Richmond is their admiral; And there they hull, expecting but the aid Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore. King Richard. Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Norfolk ;— Ratcliff, thyself, — or Catesby ; where is he ? 439 Catesby. Here, my good lord. King Richard. Catesby, fly to the duke. Catesby. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. King Richard. Ratcliff, come hither. Post to Salisbury; ACT IV. SCENE IV, 141 When thou com'st thither, — Dull, unmindful villain, \To Catesby, Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke ? Catesby. First, mighty liege, tell me your highness' pleas- ure. What from your grace I shall deliver to him. Ki7ig Richard. O, true, good Catesby. — Bid him levy straight The greatest strength and power he can make, And meet me suddenly at Salisbury. 449 Catesby. I go. \Exit. Ratcliff. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury ? King Richard. Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go? Ratcliff. Your highness told me I should post before. Enter Stanley. King Richard. My mind is chang'd. — Stanley, what news with you ? Stanley. None good, my liege, to please you with the hearing; Nor none so bad but well may be reported. Ki7ig Richard. Heyday, a riddle ! neither good nor bad ? What need'st thou run so many miles about When thou mayst tell thy tale the nearest way ? Once more, what news ? Stanley. Richmond is on the seas. 460 King Richard. There let him sink, and be the seas on him, White-Iiver'd runagate ! — What doth he there ? Stanley. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess. Ki7tg Richard. Well, as you guess ? Stanley. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton, He makes for England, here to claim the crown. King Richard. Is the chair empty ? is the sword unsway'd ? 142 RICHARD III, 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? 470 Then, tell me, what makes he upon the seas ? Stanley. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess. King Richard, 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, my good lord ; therefore mistrust me not. King Richard. Where is thy power then to beat him back ? Where be thy tenants and thy followers ? Are they not now upon the western shore, Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships 1 480 Stanley. No, my good lord, my friends are in the north. King Richard. Cold friends to me ! What do they in the north When they should serve their sovereign in the west? Stanley, They have not been commanded, mighty king. Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave, I '11 muster up my friends and meet your grace Where and what time your majesty shall please. King Richard. Ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond ; But I '11 not trust thee. Stanley. Most mighty sovereign, You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful. 490 I never was nor never will be false. King Richard. Go, then, and muster men; but leave be- hind Your son, George Stanley. Look your heart be firm. Or else his head's assurance is but frail. Stanley. So deal with him as I prove true to you. \Exit Stanley, Enter a Messenger. Messenger. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, AC7' IV. SCENE IK 143 As I by friends am well advertised, Sir Edward Courtney and the haughty prelate, Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother. With many moe confederates, are in arms. 500 Enter another Messenger. 2 Messe?iger. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in arms; And every hour more competitors Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong. Enter a third Messenger. 3 Messenger. My lord, the army of great Buckingham — King Richard. Out on ye, owls ! nothing but songs of death } \He strikes him. There, take thou that, till thou bring better news. 3 Messenger. The news I have to tell your majesty Is, that by sudden floods and fall of waters Buckingham's army is dispers'd and scatter'd. And he himself wander'd away alone, 51c No man knows whither. King Richard. 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 ? 3 Messenger. Such proclamation hath been made, my lord. E?iter a fourth Messenger. ^Messenger. Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis Dorset, 'T is said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms : But this good comfort bring I to your highness, — The Breton navy is dispers'd by tempest. Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat 520 Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks ^ If they were his assistants, yea or no; 144 RICHARD III. Who answer'd him, they came from Buckingham Upon his party: he, mistrusting them, Hois'd sail and made his course again for Bretagne. King Richard. 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. Enter Gates by. Catesby. My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken; That is the best news : that the Earl of Richmond 530 Is with a mighty power landed at Milford Is colder news, but yet they must be told. King Richard. 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. \Exeunt, Scene V. Lord Stanley's House. Enter Stanley and Sir Christopher Urswick. Stanley. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me, — That in the sty of the most deadly boar My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold : If I revolt, off goes young George's head ; The fear of that holds off my present aid. So, get thee gone; commend me to thy lord. Withal, say that the queen hath heartily consented He should espouse Elizabeth her daughter. But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now? Christopher. At Pembroke, or at Hertford West, in Wales. Stanley. What men of name resort to him ? xi Christopher. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier ; Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley; ACT IK SCENE V. 145 Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt, And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew, And many other of great name and worth : And towards London do they bend their power, If by the way they be not fought withal. Stanley. Well, hie thee to thy lord ; I kiss his hand : My letter will resolve him of my mind. 20 Farewell. [Exeu/it, ^^^0 TAMWORTH CASTLE. K SALISBUKY. ACT V. Scene I. Salisbury, An open Place. Enter the Sheriff and Guard, with Buckingham, led to exe- cution, Buckingham, Will not King Richard let me speak with him? Sheriff. No, my good lord; therefore be patient. Buckingham. Hastings, and Edward's children, Grey, and Rivers, ACT V. SCENE II. 147 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, fellow, is it not? lo Sheriff, It is. Bucki?igham, Why, then All - Souls' day is my body's doomsday. This is the day which, in King Edward's time, I wish'd 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 whom most I trusted ; This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs. That high All-Seer which I dallied with 20 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 in their masters' bosoms ; Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck : 'When he,' quoth she, 'shall split thy heart with sorrow, Remember Margaret was a prophetess.' — Come, lead me, oflBcers, to the block of shame; Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame. 29 \Exeunt Buckingham and Officers, Scene II. A Plain near Tamworth, Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, Herbert, and others ^ with drum a?id colours. Richmond. Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends, Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny, 148 RICHARD III. Thus fiir into the bowels of the land Have \Ye march'd on without impediment; And here receive we from our father Stanley Lines of fiiir 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 10 Is 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 men, To fight against this guilty homicide. Herbert. I doubt not but his friends will turn to us. Bhmt. He hath no friends but what are friends for fear, 20 Which in his dearest need will fly from him. Richmond. All for our vantage. Then, in God's name, march. True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings; Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. [^Exeunt Scene III. Bosworth Field. Enter King Richard in arms, with Norfolk, Surrey, and others. King Richard. Here pitch our tents, even here in Bos- worth field. — My Lord of Surrey, why look you so sad ? Surrey. My heart is ten times lighter than my looks. King Richard. My Lord of Norfolk, — Norfolk. Here, most gracious liege. ACT V. SCENE III. 149 King Richard, Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha! must we not ? Norfolk. We must both give and take, my loving lord. King Richard. Up with my tent ! here will I lie to- night ; — - [^Soldiers begin to set up the King's tent. But where to-morrow? — Well, all 's one for that. — • Who hath descried the number of the traitors? Norfolk. Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. 10 King Richard. Why, our battalia trebles that account; Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, Which they upon the adverse faction want. — Up with the tent ! — Come, noble gentlemen, Let us survey the vantage of the ground. — Call for some men of sound direction. — Let 's lack no discipline, make no delay. For, lords, to-morrow is a buoj day. [Exeimt. Enter, on the other side of the field, Richmond, Sir William Brandon, Blunt, Oxford, and others. Some of the Sol- diers ///r/^ Richmo fid's tent. ^ Richmond. The weary sun hath made a golden set, - And by the bright track of his fiery car 20 Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow. — Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard. — Give me some ink and paper in my tent; I '11 draw the form and model of our battle, Limit each leader to his several charge. And part in just proportion our small power. — My Lord of Oxford, — you. Sir William Brandon, — And you. Sir Walter Herbert, stay w^ith me. — The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment; Good Captain Blunt, bear my good night to him, 30 And by the second hour in the morning Desire the earl to see me in my tent. — I JO RICHARD IIL Yet one thing more, good captain, do for me ; Where is Lord Stanley qiiarter'd ? do you know? Blunt. Unless I have mista'en his colours much, — Which well I am assur'd I have not done, — His regiment lies half a mile at least South from the mighty power of the king. Rlchmo7id. If without peril it be possible. Sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak with him, 4c And give him from me this most needful note. Blunt. Upon my life, my lord, I '11 undertake it ; And so, God give you quiet rest to-night ! Richmo7id. Good night, good Captain Blunt. — Come, gen- tlemen, Let us consult upon to-morrow's business. In to my tent! the dew is raw and cold. \They withdraw into the tent, E?tter, to his tent, King Richard, Norfolk, Ratcliff, ajtd Catesby. Kifig Richard. What is 't o'clock .^ Catesby. It 's supper time, my lord ; It 's nine o'clock. Ki?ig Richard. I will not sup to-night. — Give me some ink and paper. — AVhat, is my beaver easier than it was ? 50 And all my armour laid into my tent? Catesby. It is, my liege ; and all things are in readiness. King Richard. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge. Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels. Norfolk. I go, my lord. King Richard. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Nor- folk. Norfolk. I warrant you, my lord. \^Exit, King Richard. Catesby ! Catesby. My lord ? ACT V. SCENE III. 151 King Richard, Send out a pursuivant-at-arms To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring liis power 60 Before sun-rising, lest his son George fall Into the blind cave of eternal night. — [^Exit Catesby, Fill me a bowl of wine. — Give me a watch. — Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow. — Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy. — Ratcliff!— Ratcliff. My lord ? King Richard, Saw'st thou the melancholy Lord Nor- thumberland ? Ratcliff. Thomas the Earl of Surrey, and himself, Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop 70 Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers. Kino; Richard. So : I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of wine ; I have not that alacrity of spirit. Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have. — Set it down. — Is ink and paper ready .^ Ratcliff. It is, my lord. King Richard. Bid my guard watch. Leave me Ratcliff, about the mid of night come to my tent And help to arm me. — Leave me, I say. [Exeimt Ratcliff and the other attendants. Enter Stanley to Richmond in his tent, Lords and others attending. Stanley. Fortune and victory sit on thy helm ! bo Richinond, All comfort that the dark night can afford Be to thy person, noble father-in-law^ ! Tell me how fares our loving mother.^ Stanley. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother, Who prays continually for Richmond's good; > So much for that. — The silent hours steal on, ^ And flaky darkness breaks within the east 152 RICHARD II L In brief, for so the season bids us be, Prepare thy battle early in the morning, And put thy fortune to the arbitrement qo Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring wan I, as 1 may, — that which I would 1 cannot, — With best advantage will deceive the time, And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms; But on thy side I may not be too forward. Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George, Be executed in his father's sight. Farewell. The leisure and the fearful time Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love And ample interchange of sweet discourse loo Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell upon. God give us leisure for these rites of love ! Once more adieu. Be valiant, and speed well ! Richmond. Good lords, conduct him to his regiment T '11 strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap. Lest leaden slumber peize me down to-morrow. When I should mount with wings of victory. Once more good night, kind lords and gentlemen.- — \Exetmt all but Richmond, O Thou, whose captain I account myself. Look on my forces with a gracious eye; nc Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath. That they may crush down with a heavy fall The usurping helmets of our adversaries! Make us thy ministers of chastisement, That we may praise thee in thy victory ! ] To thee I do commend my watchful soul. Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes; Sleeping and waking, O, defend me still ! \Sleeps. ACT V. SCENE III. 153 The Ghost of Prince Edward, so?i to Henry the Sixth, appeal's betweeii the two tents. Ghost. [7b Richard^^ Let me sit heavy on thy soul to- morrow ! Think how thou stabb'dst me in my prime of youth 120 At Tewksbury \ despair, therefore, and die ! — \To jRichmo7id.'\ Be cheerful, Richmond, for the wTonged souls Of butcher'd princes fight in thy behalf; King Henry's issue, Richmond, comforts thee. The Ghost 0/ Henry the Sixth appears. Ghost. [To Richard] When I was mortal, my anointed body By thee was punched full of deadly holes. Think on the Tower and me ; despair and die ! Harry the Sixth bids thee despair and die. — [To Richmond.] Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror! Harry, that prophesied thou shouldst be king, 130 Doth comfort thee in sleep ; live and flourish ! The Ghost of Clarence appears. Ghost. [To Richard.] Let me sit 4ieavy on thy soul to- morrow ! I, that w^as wash'd to death with fulsome wine. Poor Clarence, by thy guile betray'd to death ! To-morrow in the battle think on me, And fall thy edgeless sword ! Despair and die ! — [To Richmond.] Thou offspring of the house of Lan- caster, The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee ; Good angels guard thy battle ! Live and flourish ! 154 RICHARD III. The Ghosts of Rivers, Grey, a?id Vaughan appear. Rivers. [7b Richard.'\ Let me sit heavy on thy soul to- morrow, Rivers, that died nt Pomfret ! Despair and die ! Grey. [To Richard.] Think upon Grey, and let thy soul despair ! Vaughan. [To Richard?^ Think upon Vaughan, and with guilty fear Let fall thy lance ! Despair and die ! AIL [To Richmond.] Awake ! and think our wrongs in Richard's bosom Will conquer him. Awake, and win the day ! The Ghost 0/ Hastings appears. Ghost. [To Richard.] Bloody and guilty, guiltily awake, And in a bloody battle end thy days ! Think on Lord Hastings ! Despair and die ! — [To Richmond.] Quiet untroubled soul, awake, awake ! 150 Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake ! The Ghosts of the two young Princes appear. Ghosts. Dream on thy cousins smother'd in the Tower: Let us be lead within ithy bosom, Richard, And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death ! Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair and die ! — Sleep, Richmond, sleep in peace and wake in joy; Good angels guard thee from the boar's annoy ! Live and beget a happy race of kings ! Edward's unhappy sons do bid thee flourish. 159 The Ghost of Queen Anne appears. Ghost. Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne, thy wife, That never slept a quiet hour with thee, Now fills thy sleep with perturbations; ACT V. SCENE III. 155 To-morrow in the battle think on me, And fall thy edgeless sword ! Despair and die ! — \^To Richmond^ Thou, quiet soul, sleep thou a quiet sleep; Dream of success and happy victory ! Thy adversary's wife doth pray for thee. The Ghost of Buckingham appears. Ghost. [To jRuhard.] The first was I that help'd thee to the crown ; The last was I that felt thy tyranny. O, in the battle think on Buckingham, 170 And die in terror of thy guiltiness ! Dream on, dream on, of bloody deeds and death : Fainting, despair; despairing, yield thy breath ! — [To Richmond/\ I died for hope ere I could lend thee aid; But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismay'd ! God and good angels fight on Richmond's side; And Richard fall in height of all his pride ! [The Ghosts vanish. Ki?ig Richa7'd starts out of his dream. King Richard. Give me another horse! — bind up my wounds! — Have mercy, Jesu ! — Soft ! I did but dream. — O, coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me ! — - 180 The lights burn blue. — It is now dead midnight. Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. What, do I fear myself? there 's none else by : Richard loves Richard ; that is, I am I. Is there a murtherer here ? No. — Yes, I am : Then fly. — What, from myself.'* Great reason why, — Lest I revenge. What ! myself upon myself.^ Alack, I love myself Wherefore ? for any good That I myself have done unto myself.'* O, no ! alas, I rather hate myself 190 156 RICHARD HI. For hateful deeds committed by myself! I am a villain ; yet I lie, I am not. Fool, of thyself speak well. — Fool, do not flatter. My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree, Murther, stern murther, in the dir'st degree, All several sins, all us'd in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all ' Guilty ! guilty !' ^joc I shall despair. — There is no creature loves me ; And if I die, no soul shall pity me. — Nay, wherefore should they, since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself? Methought the souls of all that I had murther'd Came to my tent, and every one did threat To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard. Enter Ratcliff. Ratcliff. My lord, — King Richard. Who ^s there ? Ratcliff. Ratcliff, my lord; 't is I. The early viliage cock 2IO Hath twice done salutation to the morn ; Your friends are up, and buckle on their armour. King Richard. O Ratcliff! I have dream'd a fearful dream. — What thinkest thou ? will our friends prove all true .'* Ratcliff. No doubt, my lord. King Richard. O Ratcliff! I fear, I fear,— Ratcliff. Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows. King Richard. By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance often thousand soldiers, Armed in proof, and led by shallow Richmond. 220 ACT V. SCENE JIL 157 It is not yet near day. Come, go with me : Under our tents I '11 play the eavesdropper, To hear if any mean to shrink from me. \Exetint Enter Oxford and others to Richmond in his tent. Lords. Good morrow, Richmond. Richfnond. Cry mercy, lords, and watchful gentlemen, That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here. Lords. How have you slept, my lord ? Richmond. The sweetest sleep, and fairest-boding dreams That ever entered in a drowsy head, Have I since your departure had, my lords. 230 Methought their souls, whose bodies Richard murther'd, Came to my tent, and cried on victory! I promise you my heart' is very jocund In the remembrance of so fair a dream. How far into the morning is it, lords .^ Lords. Upon the stroke of four. Richmond. Why, then, 't is time to arm, and give di- rection. — \_He advances to the troops. More than I have said, loving countrymen. The leisure and enforcement of the time Forbids to dwell on : yet remember this, — 24c God and our good cause fight upon our side ; The prayers of holy saints and wronged souls. Like high-rear'd bulwarks, stand before our faces. Richard except, those whom we fight against Had rather have us win than him they follow. For what is he they follow ? truly, gentlemen, A bloody tyrant and a homicide; One rais'd in blood, and one in blood established; One that made means to come by what he hath, And slaughter'd those that were the means to help him; 250 A base foul stone, made precious by the foil Of England's chair, where he is falsely set; 158 RICHARD II L One that hath ever been God's enemy. Then, if you fight against God's enemy, God will in justice ward you as his soldiers. If you do sweat to put a tyrant down, You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain ; If you do fight against your country's foes, Your country's fat shall pay your pains the hire; If you do fight in safeguard of your wives, 260 Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors; If you do free your children from the sword. Your children's children quit it in your age. Then, in the name of God and all these rights. Advance your standards, draw your willing sw^ords. For me, the ransom of my bold attempt Shall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face; But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt The least of you shall share his part thereof. — Sound, drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully; 270 God and Saint George ! Richmond and victory ! \^Exeuiit. Enter King Richard, Ratcliff, Attendants, and Forces. King Richant What said Northumberland as touching Richmond ? Ratcliff, That he was never trained up in arms. King Richard, He said the truth; and what said Surrey then ? Ratcliff. He smil'd and said, the better for our purpose. King Richard, He was i' the right ; and so, indeed, it is. — - \Clock strikes. Tell the clock there. — Give me a calendar. — Who saw the sun to-day .'* Ratcliff. Not I, my lord. Ki7ig Richard, Then he disdains to shine; for by the book He should have brav'd the east an hour ago; 280 ACT V, SCENE III, 159 A black day will it be to somebody. — Ratcliff,— Rat cliff. My lord ? King Richard. The sun will not be seen to day; The sky doth frown and lower upon our army. I would these dewy tears were from the ground. Not shine to-day ! Why, what is that to me More than to Richmond '^. for the selfsame heaven That frowns on me looks sadly upon him. Enter Norfolk. Norfolk. Arm, arm, my lord ! the foe vaunts in the field. King Richard. Come, bustle, bustle. — Caparison my horse. — 290 Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power. I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain, And thus my battle shall be ordered : My foreward shall be drawn out all in length. Consisting equally of horse and foot; Our archers shall be placed in the midst. John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey, Shall have the leading of the foot and horse. They thus directed, we will follow In the main battle, whose puissance on either side 300 Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse. This, and Saint George to boot! — What think'st thou, Nor- folk? Norfolk. A good direction, warlike sovereign. — This found I on my tent this morning. \^Giving a scroll. King Richard. [Reads] ' Jocky of Norfolk^ be not so bold, For Dickon thy master is bought and sold. ^ A thing devised by the enemy. — Go, gentlemen, every man to his charge. Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls, For conscience is a word that cowards use, 310 i6o RICHARD IIL Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe; Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law March on, join bravely, let us to 't pell-mell ; If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell. — What shall I say more than I have inferr'd? Remember whom you are to cope withal, — A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways, A scum of Bretons, and base lackey peasants, Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth To desperate adventures and assur'd destruction. 320 You sleeping safe, they bring you to unrest; You having lands and bless'd with beauteous wives, They would restrain the one, distain the other. And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost, A milk-sop, one that never in his life Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow? Let 's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again, Lash hence these overweening rags of France, These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives; 330 Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit. For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves. If we be conquer'd, let men conquer us. And not these bastard Bretons, whom our fathers Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd, And on record left them the heirs of shame. — Hark ! I hear their drum. \^Driim afar off^ Fight, gentlemen of England ! fight, bold yeomen ! Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head! Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood! 340 Amaze the welkin with your broken staves! — Enter a Messenger. What says Lord Stanley? will he bring his power? Messenger, My lord, he doth deny to come. ACT V. SCENE IV, l6i King Richard. Off with his son George's head ! Norfolk, My lord, the enemy is pass'd the marsh ; After the battle let George Stanley die. King Richard. A thousand hearts are great within my bosom. Advance our standards ! set upon our foes ! Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George, Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons ! 350 Upon them ! Victory sits on our helms. \Exeunt. Scene IV. Another Part of the Field. Alarum : Excursions. Enter Norfolk and Forces ; to him Catesby. Catesby. Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk ! rescue, rescue ! The king enacts more wonders than a man, Daring an opposite to every danger. His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights, Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death. Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost ! Alarum. Enter King Richard. ^^^King Richard. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! Catesby. Withdraw, my lord; I 11 help you to a horse. Ki7ig Richard. Slave ! I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die. 10 I think there be six Richmonds in the field; Five have I slain to-day instead of him. — A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse I \Exeu7it. L i62 RICHARD III, Alarums. Enter Richard and Richmond, fighting; and exeunt^ fightifig. Retreat and flourish. 2hen enter Rich- mond, Stanley hearing the crown, with divers other Lords, and Forces. Richinond. God and your arms be prais'd, victorious friends, The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead. Stanley, Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee. Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty From the dead temples of this bloody wretch Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal; Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it. 20 Richmond, Great God of heaven, say amen to all ! — But, tell me, is young George Stanley living? Stanley. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town ; Whither, if it please you, we may withdraw us. Richmond. What men of name are slain on either side ? Stanley. John Duke of Norfolk, Walter Lord Ferrers, Sir Robert Biakenbury, and Sir William Brandon. Riclwiojid. Inter their bodies as becomes their births. Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled That in submission will return to us; 30 And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament. We will unite the white rose and the red. — Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction, That long hath frown'd upon their enmity ! — What traitor hears me, and says not amen ? England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself; The brother blindly shed the brother's blood. The father rashly slaughter'd his own son, The son, compelFd, been butcher to the sire; All this divided York and Lancaster, 40 Divided in their dire division, O, now let Richmond and Elizabeth, ACT V, SCENE IV, 163 The true succeeders of each royal house, By God's fair ordinance conjoin together ! And let their heirs, God, if thy will be so, Enrich the time to come with smooth-fac'd peace, With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days! Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord, That would reduce these bloody days again, And make poor England weep in streams of blood! 50 Let them not live to taste this land's increase That would with treason wound this fair land's peace ! Now civil wounds are stopp'd, Peace lives again : That she may long live here, God say amen ! \_Exciint. LEICESTER. RICHARD III. (FROM THE WARWICK ROLL.) NOTES. ABBREVIATIONS USED IN THE NOTES. Abbott (or Gr.), Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar (third edition). A. S., Anglo-Saxon. A. v., Authorized Version of the Bible (1611). B. and F., Beaumont and Fletcher. B, J., Ben Jonson. Camb. ed., '^ Cambridge edition" oi Shakespeare, edited by Clark and Wright. Cf. {coiifer\ compare. . •' Clarke, " Cassell's Illustrated Shakespeare," edited by Charles and Mary Cowden Clarke (London, n. d.). Coll., Collier (second edition). Coll. MS., Manuscript Corrections of Second Folio, edited by Collier. D., Dyce (second edition). H,, Hudson (first edition). Halliwell, J. O. Halliwell (folio ed. of Shakespeare). Id. {idem), the same. J. H., J. Hunter's ed. oi Richard III. (London, 1874). K., Knight (second edition). Lawson, W. Lawson's ed. oi Richard III. (London and Glasgow, 1877). ^ Nares, Glossary, edited by Halliwell and Wright (London, 1859). Prol., Prologue. S., Shakespeare. Schmidr, A. Schmidt's Shakespeare-Lexicon (BerHn, 1874). Sr., Singer. St., Staunton. Theo., 'J'heobaM. v., Verplanck. W., R. Grant White. Walker, Wm. Sidney Walker's Critical Examination of the Text of Shakespeare (London, i86o\ Warb., Warburton. Wb., Webster's Dictionary (revised quarto edition of 1879). Wore, Worcester's Dictionary (quarto edition). The abbreviations of the names of Shakespeare's Plays will be readily understood ; as T. N. for Twelfth Night, Cor. for Coriolanus, 3 Hen. VI. for The Third Part of King Henry the Sixth, etc. P. P. refers to The Passionate Pilgrim ; V. and A . to Venus and Adonis ; L. C. to Lover'' s Complaint ; and Sonn. to the Sonnets. When the abbreviation of the name of a play is followed by a reference to page, Rolfe's edition of the play is meant. The numbers of the lines (except for Richard III.) are those of the " Globe " ed. or of the "Acme" reprint of that ed. NOTES. Ah, my poor princes! (iv. 4. 9). INTRODUCTION. Thk. following extracts from More, Hall, and Holinshed (the spelling being modernized) comprise all the passages of any importance illustra- tive of the play; 1 68 NOTES. Richard, the third son, of whom we now entreat, was in wit and cour- age equal with either of them, in body and prowess far mider them both, little of stature, ill-featured of limbs, crooked-backed, his left shoulder much higher than his right, hard favoured of visage, and such as is in states called warlike,* in other men otherwise. He was malicious, wrath- ful, envious ; and from before his birth ever froward. It is for truth re- ported that the Duchess, his mother, had so much ado in her travail that she could not be delivered of him uncut ; and that he came into the world with the feet forward as men be borne outward, and (as the fame runneth) also not untoothed: whether men of hatred report above the truth, or else that nature changed her course in his beginnings which in the course of his life many things unnaturally committed. So that the full confluence of these qualities, with the defects of favour and amiable proportion, gave proof to this rule of physiognomy — '"Distoriutn vultMtn sequitur distortio jnorum.''' None evil captain was he in the war, as to which his disposition was more meetly than for peace. Sundry victories had he, and sometime overthrows, but never on default, as for his own person, either of hardiness or politic order. Free was he called of dispense, and somewhat above his power liberal; with large gifts he got him unsteadfast friendship, for which he was fain to pill and spoil in other places, and got him steadfast hatred. He was close and secret, a deep dissimuler, lowly of countenance, arro- gant of heart, outwardly companiable where he inwardly hated, not let- ting! to kiss whom he thonght to kill, dispitious and cruel, not for evil will alway, but ofter for ambition, and either for the surety or increase of his estate. Friend and foe was much-what } indifferent, where his advan- tage grew; he spared no man's death whose life withstood his purpose. He slew with his own hands King Henry VI., being prisoner in the Tower as men constantly said, and that withont commandment or knowledge of the king, which would undoubtedly, if he had intended that thing, have appointed that butcherly office to some other than his own born brother. Some wise men also ween that his drift, covertly conveyed, lacked not in helping forth his brother of Clarence to his death, which he resisted open- ly, howbeit somewhat (as men deemed) more faintly than he that were heartily minded to his wealth. § And they that thus deem, think that he long time in King Edward's life forethought to be king, in case that the king his brother (whose life he looked that evil diet should shorten) should happen to decease (as indeed he did) while his children were young. And they deem that for this intent he was glad of his brother's death, the * The word in More is " warlye ;" but Hall gives the passage thus : " Such as in es- tates is called a warlyke visage, and emong common persons a crabbed face." — Ed. t Forbearing, hesitating. Cf. R. of L. lo: "When Collatine unwisely did not let To praise the clear unmatched red and white," etc. For the transitive use (=hinder), see Ham. p. 195. — Ed. X Very much ; a compound like somewhat. Most-what is another obsolete on^.— Ed. § Weal, welfare. See M. 0/ V. p. 165, and cf. commonwealth— \\\t. common weal, etc. ~Ed. INTRODUCTION. 169 Duke of Clarence, whose life must needs have hindered him so intending, whether the same Duke of Clarence had kept him true to his nephew the young king, or enterprised to be king himself. But of all this point is there no certainty; and whoso divineth upon conjectures, may as well shoot too far as too short. — More. Where a man [quoth the Duke of Buckingham] is by lawful means in peril, there needeth he the tuition of some special privilege, which is the only ground and cause of all sanctuaries; from which necessity this noble prince is far, whose love to his king, nature, and kindred proveth; whose innocency to all the world his tender youth proveth; and so sanctuary as for him not necessary, nor none he can have. Men come not to sanctuary as they come to baptism, to require it by his godfathers; he must ask it himself that must have it, and reason, sithe no man hath cause to have it but whose conscience gf his own fault maketh him have need to require it. What will then hath yonder babe, which if he had discretion to re- quire it, if need were, I daresay would now be right angry with them that keep him there. . . . And if nobody may be taken out of sanctuary because he sayeth he will abide there, then if a child will take sanctuary because he feareth to go to school, his master must let him alone. And as sim- ple as that example is, yet is there less reason in our case than in it, for there, though it be a childish fear, yet is there at the least some fear, and herein is no fear at all. And verily, I have heard of sanctuary men, but I never heard before of sanctuary children; and, therefore, as for the con- clusion of my mind, whoso may deserve to have need it, if they think it for their surety, let them keep it. But he can be no sanctuary man that neither hath wisdom to desire it, nor malice to deserve it. And he that taketh one out of sanctuary, to do him good, I say plainly that he break- eth no sanctuary. — Hall. The protector and the duke after that they had sent the lord cardinal, the Archbishop of York then Lord Chancellor, the Bishop of Ely, the Lord Stanley, and the Lord Hastings, then Lord Chamberlain, with many other noblemen, to common* and devise about the coronation in one place, as fast were they in another place contriving the contrary, and to make the protector king. To which council albeit there were adhibited very few, and they were secret, yet began there here and thereabouts some manner of muttering among the people, as though all should not long be well, though they neither wist what they feared nor wherefore; were it that before such great things men's hearts of a secret instinct of nature misgive them, as the sea without wind swelleth of himself sometime before a tempest; or were it, that some one man, happily somewhat perceiving, filled many men with suspicion, though he showed few men what he knew. Hovvbeit, somewhat the dealing itself made men to muse on the matter, though the council v/ere close. For by little and little all folk withdrew from the Tower and drew unto Crosbie's and Bishop's Gates Street, where the * Commune, confer. — Ed. lyo NOTES. protector kept his household. The protector had the resort, the king in manner desolate. While some for their business made suit to them that had the doing, some were by their friends secretly warned that it might happily turn them to no good, to be too much attendant about the king without the protector's appointment, which removed also divers of the prince's old servants from him, and set new about him. Thus many things coming together, partly by chance, partly of purpose, caused at length not com- mon people only that wound with the wind, but wise men also, and some lords eke, to mark the matter and muse thereon ; so far forth that the Lord Stanley, that was after Earl of Derby, wisely mistrusted it, and said unto the Lord Hastings that he much misliked these two several coun- cils. '* For while we" (quoth he) "talk of one matter in the one place, little wot we whereof they talk in the other place." — Holinshed. Many lords assembled in the Tower, and there sat in council, devising the honourable solemnity of the king's coronation, of which the time ap- pointed then so near approached, that the pageants and subtleties were in making day and night at Westminster, and much victuals killed there- fore, that afterward was cast away. These lords so sitting together, com- moning of this matter, the protector came in among them, first about nine of the clock, saluting them courteously, and excusing himself that he had been so long, saying merely that he had been asleep that day. After a little talking with them, he said unto the Bishop of Ely: My lord, you have very good strawberries at your garden in Holberne; I require you let us have a mess of tiiem. Gladly, my lord, quoth he, would God I had some better thing as ready to your pleasure as that. And therewithal, in all the haste he sent his servant for a mess of strawberries. The pro- tector set the lords fast in commoning, and thereupon praying theni to spare him for a little while, departed thence. And soon after one hour, between ten and eleven, he returned into the chamber among them, all changed, with a wonderful sour angry countenance, knitting the brows, frowning, and fretting, and gnawing on his lips, and so sat him down in his place; all the lords much dismayed, and sore marvelling of this man- ner of sudden change, and what thing should him ail. Then when he had sitten still awhile, thus he began: What were they worthy to have, that compass and imagine the destruction of me, being so near of blood unto the king, and protector of his royal person and his realm. At this ques- tion, all the lords sat sore astonied, musing much by whom this question should be meant, of w^iich every man wist himself clear. Then the Lord Chamberlain, as he that for the love between them thought he might be boldest with him, answered and said. That they were worthy to be pun- ished as heinous traitors, whatsoever they were. And all the other af- firmed the same. That is (quoth he) yonder sorceress my brother's wife, and other with her (meaning the queen). At these words many of the other lords were greatly abashed that favoured her. But the Lord Hast- ings was in his mind better content that it was moved by her, than by any other whom he loved better. Albeit his heart somew^hat grudged that he was not afore made of council in this matter as he was of the tak- INTRODUCTION. 171 ing of her kindred and of their putting to death, which were by his assent before devised to be beheaded at Poniefract this self-same day; in whrch he was not ware that it was by other devised that he himself should the same day be beheaded at London. Then said the protector : Ye shall all see in what wise that sorceress, and that other witch of her council, Shore's wife, with their affinity, have by their sorcery and witchcraft wasted my body. And therewith he plucked up his doublet sleeve to his elbow upon his left arm, where he showed a werish withered arm, and small, as it was never other. Hereupon every man's mind sore misgave them, well per- ceiving that this matter was but a quarrel. For they well wist that the queen was too wise to go about any such folly. And also if she w^ould, yet would she, of all folk, least make Shore's wife of her council, whom of all women she most hated, as that concubine whom the king her husband had most loved. And also no man was there present but well knew that liis arm was ever such since his birth. Natheless the Lord Chamberlain (which from the death of King Edward kept Shore's wife, on whom he somewhat doted in the king's life, saving as it is said he that while for- bare her of reverence toward his king, or else of a certain kind of fidelity to his friend) answered and said : Certainly, my lord, if they have so hei- nously done, they be worthy of heinous punishment. What, quoth the protector, thou servest me I w^een with ifs and wnth ands; I tell thee they have so done, and that I will make good on thy body, traitor. And therewith, as in a great anger, he clapped his fist upon the board a great rap. At which token one cried treason without the chamber. There- with a door clapped, and in come there rushing men in harness as many as the chamber might hold. And anon the protector said to the Lord Hastings, I arrest thee, traitor. What, me, my lord, quoth he. Yea, thee, traitor, quoth the protector. And another let fly at the Lord Stanley, which shrunk at the stroke, and fell under the table, or else his head had been cleft to the teeth; for as shortly as he shrank, yet ran the blood about his ears. Then w^ere they all quickly bestowed in divers chambers, except the Lord Chamberlain, whom the protector bade speed and shrive him a pace, fur by Saint Paul (quoth he) I will not to dinner till I see thy head off. It booted him not to ask why, but heavily he took a priest at adventure, and made a short shrift, for a longer would not be suffered, the protector made so much haste to dinner, which he might not go to until this were done, for saving of his oath. So he was brought forth into the green beside the chapel within the Tower, and his head laid down upon a long log of timber, and there stricken off, and afterward his body with the head enterred at Windsor beside the body of King Edward, whose both souls our Lord pardon. — More. A marvellous case it is to hear either the warnings that he should have voided, or the tokens of that he could not void. For the next night be- fore his death, the Lord Stanley sent to him a trusty messenger at mid- night, in all the haste, requiring him to rise and ride away with him for he was disposed utterly no longer for to abide, for he had a fearful dream, in the which he thought that a boar with his tusks so rased them both by the heads that the blood ran about both their shoulders; and for as 1^2 NOTES. much as the protector gave the boar for his cognisance, he imagined that it should be he. This dream made such a fearful impression in his heart that he was thoroughly determined no longer to tarry, but had his horse ready, if the Lord Hastings would go with him, so that they would ride so far that night, that they should be out of danger by the next day. Ah ! good lord (quoth the Lord Hastings to the messenger), leaneth my lord thy master so much to such trifles, and hath such faith in dreams, which either his own fear phantasieth, or do rise in the night's rest by reason of the day's thought ? Tell him it is plain witchcraft to believe in such dreams, which if they were tokens of things to come, why thinketh he not that we might as likely make them true t)y our going, if we were caught and brought back (as friends fail fliers) ; for then had the boar a cause likely to rase us with his tusks, as folks that fled for some falsehood ; wherefore, either is there peril nor none there is indeed, or if any be, it is rather in going than abiding. And if we should needs fall in peril one way or other, yet had I liefer that men should say it were by other men's falsehood, than think it were either our own fault or faint feeble heart; and therefore go to thy master, and commend me to him, and say that I pray him to be merry and have no fear, for I assure him I am assured of the man he wotteth of, as I am sure of mine own hand. God send grace (quoth the messenger), and so departed. Certain it is also that in riding toward the Tower, the same morning in which he was beheaded, his horse that he w^as accustomed to ride on, stumbled with him twice or thrice al- most to the falling : which thing although it happeth to them daily to whom no mischance is toward, yet hath it been, as an old evil token, ob- served as a going toward mischief Now this that followeth was no warning but an envious scorn. The same morning, ere he were up from his bed, there came to him Sir Thomas Haward son to the Lord Haward (which lord was one of the priviest of the lord protector's council and do- ing), as it were of courtesy to accompany him to the council, but of truth sent by the lord protector to haste him hitherward. This Sir Thomas, while the Lord Hastings staid a while communing with a priest whom he met in the Tower Street, brake the lord's tale, say- ing to him merely. What, my lord ! I pray you come on; wherefore talk you so long with that priest } you have no need of a priest yet : and laughed upon him, as though he w^ould say, You shall have need of one soon. But little wist the other w^hat he meant (but or* night these words were well remembered by them that heard them); so the true Lord Hastings little mistrusted, and was never merrier, nor thought his life in more surety in all his days, which thing is often a sign of change : but I shall rather let any thing pass me than the vain surety of man's mind so near his death; for upon the very Tower wharf, so near the place w^here his head w^as off so soon after as a man might w^ell cast a ball, a pursui- vant of his own, called Hastings, met with him, and of their meeting in that place he was put in remembrance of another time in which it hap- pened them to meet before together in the place, at which time the Lord Hastings had been accused to King Edward by the Lord Rivers, the * 6>r— before. See Temp. p. ri2. — Ed. INTRODUCTION-. 1 73 queen's brother, insomuch that he was for a while, which lasted not long, highly in the king's indignation. As he now met the same pursuivant in the same place, the jeopardy so well passed, it gave him great pleasure to talk with him thereof, with whom he had talked in the same place of that matter, and therefore he said. Ah, Hastings, art thou remembered when I met thee here once with an heavy heart ? Yea, my lord (quoth he), that 1 remember well, and thanked be to God they gat no good nor you no harm thereby. Thou wouldest say so (quoth he) if thou knewest so much as I do, which few know yet, and more shall shortly. That meant he, that the Earl Rivers and the Lord Richard and Sir Thomas Vaughan should that day be beheaded at Pomfret, as they were indeed; which act he wist well should be done, but nothing ware that the axe hung so near his own head. In faith, man (quoth he), I was never so sorry, nor never stood in so great danger of my life, as I did when thou and I met here ; and lo ! the world is turned now; now stand mine enemies in the danger, as thou mayest hap to hear more hereafter, and 1 never in my life merrier, nor never in so great surety. . . . Now flew the fame of this lord's death through the city and farther about, like a wind in every man's ear; but the protector immediately after dinner, intending to set some colour upon the matter, sent in all the haste for many substantial men out of the city into the Tower, and at their coming himself with the Duke of Buckingham stood harnessed in old evil-favoured briganders,* such as no man would ween that they would have vouchsafed to have put on their backs, except some sudden necessity had constrained them. Then the lord protector showed them that the Lord tiastings and other of his conspiracy had contrived to have suddenly destroyed him and the Duke of Buckingham there the same day in counsel, and what they intended farther was yet not well known; of which their treason, he had never knowledge before ten of the clock the same forenoon, which sudden fear drave them to put on such harness as came next to their hands for their defence, and so God help them ! that the mischief turned upon them that would have doiie it; and thus he re- quired them to report. Every man answered fair, as though no man mis- trusted the matter, which of truth no man believed. . . . When the Duke [of Buckingham] had said, and looked that the people, whom he hoped that the mayor had framed before, should, after this flat- tering proposition made, have cried King Richard ! King Richard ! all was still and mute, and not one woid answered to; wherewith the duke was marvellously abashed, and taking the mayor near to him, with other that were about him privy to the matter, said unto them softly. What meaneth this that the people be so still ? Sir, quoth the mayor, percaset they perceive you not well. That shall we amend, quoth he, if be that will help; and therewith somewhat louder rehearsed the same matter again, in other order and other words, so well and ornately, and never- theless so evidently and plain, with voice, gesture, and countenance so * Brigandines ; a kind of coat of mail. Cf. Milton, vS". A. 1120: "And brigandine of brass," etc. — Ed. t Perchance. Cf. Bacon, Colours of Good and Evil : "though percase it will be more strong by glory and fame," ttc—Ed. 1 74 NOTES, comely and so convenient, that every man much marvelled that heard him, and thought that they never heard in their lives so evil a tale so well told. But were it for wonder, or fear, or that each looked that other should speak first, not one word was there answered of all the people that stood before; but all were as still as the midnight, not so much rounding* among them, by which they might seem once to commune what was best to do. When the mayor saw this, he, with other partners of the counsel, drew about the duke, and said that the people had not been accustomed there to be spoken to but by the recorder, which is the mouth of the city, and haply to him they will answer. With that the recorder, called Thomas Fitz William, a sad man and an honest, which was but newly come to the office, and never had spoken to the people before, and loth was with that matter to begin, notwithstanding, thereunto commanded by the mayor, made rehearsal to the commons of that which the duke had twice pur- posed himself; but the recorder so tempered his tale that he showed every thing as the duke his words were, and no part of his own : but all this no change made in the people, which alway after one stood as they had been amazed. Whereupon the duke rounded with the mayor, and said. This is a marvellous obstinate silence ; and therewith turned to the people again, with these words : Dear friends, we come to move you to that thing which peradventure we so greatly needed not, but that the lords of this realm and commons of other parts might have sufficed, saying such love we bear you, and so much set by you, that w^e would not gladly do without you that thing in which to be partners is your weal and honour, which as to us seemeth you see not or weigh not ; wherefore we require you to give us an answer, one or other, whether ye be minded, as all the nobles of the realm be, to have this noble prince, now protector, to be your king? And at these words the people began to whisper among themselves secretly, that the voice was neither loud nor base, but like a swarm of bees, till at the last, at the nether end of the hall, a bushmentt of the duke's servants, and one Nashfield, and other belonging to the pro- tector, with some prentices and lads that thrusted into the hall amongst the press, began suddenly at men's backs to cry out as loud as they could. King Richard ! King Richard ! and then threw up their caps in token of joy, and they that stood before cast back their heads marvelling thereat, but nothing they said. And when the duke and the mayor saw this man- ner, they wisely turned it to their purpose, and said it was a goodly cry and a joyful to hear every man with one voice, and no man saying nay. WMierefore friends (quoth the duke), sith we perceive that it is all your whole minds to have this noble man for your king, whereof we shall make his grace so effectual report that we doubt not but that it shall redound to your great wealth and commodity: we therefore require you that to-morrow ye go with us, and we with you, to his noble grace, to make our humble petition and request to him in manner before re- membered. * Whispering. See Hen. VIII. p. 168, foot-note, and cf K. John^ ii. i. 566: "rounded in t!ie ear," etc. — Ed. t A concealed body of men. Cf. ambush. — Ed. IN TROD UCTION, 1 7 5 Then on the morrow the mayor and aldermen and chief commoners of the city, in their best manner apparelled, assembling them together at Paul's, resorted to Baynard's castle, where the protector lay, to which place also, according to the appointment, repaired the Duke of Bucking- ham, and divers nobles with him, besides many knights and gentlemen. And thereupon the duke sent word to the lord protector of the being there of a great honourable company to mo\e a great matter to his grace. Whereupon the protector made great difficulty to come down to them, except he knew some part of their errand, as though he doubted, and partly mistrusted, the coming of such a number to him so suddenly, with- out any warning or knowledge whether they came for good or harm. Then, when the duke had showed this to the mayor and other, that they might thereby see how little the protector looked for this matter, they sent again by the messenger such loving message, and therewith so hum- bly besought him to vouchsafe that they might resort to his presence to purpose their intent, of which they would to none other person any part disclose. At the last he came out of his chamber, and yet not down to them, but in a gallery over them, with a bishop on every hand of him, where they beneath might see him and speak to him, as though he would not yet come near them till he wist what they meant.. And thereu])on the Duke of Buckingham first made humble petition to him, on the be- half of them all, that his grace would pardon them, and license them to purpose unto his grace the intent of their coming without his displeasure, without which pardon obtained they durst not be so bold to move him of that matter ; in which, albeit they meant as much honour to his grace as wealth to all the realm beside, yet were they not sure how his grace would take it, whom they would in no wise offend. Then the protector, as he was very gentle of himself, and also longed sore apparently to know what they meant, gave him leave to purpose what him liked, verily trusting for the good mind that he bare them all, none of them any thing would in- tend to himward,* wherewith he thought to be grieved. When the duke had this leave and pardon to speak, then waxed he bold to show him their intent and purpose, with all the causes moving them thereto, as ye before have heard; and finally, to beseech his grace that it would like him, of his accustomed goodness and zeal unto the realm, now with his eye of pity to behold the long continued distress and decay of the same, and to set his gracious hand to the redress and amendment thereof, by taking upon him the crown and governance of the realm according to his right and title lawfully descended unto him, and to the laud of God, profit and surety of the land, and unto his grace so much the more honour and less pain, in that never prince reigned upon any people that were so glad to live under his obeisance as the people of this realm under his. When the protector had heard the proposition, he looked very strange- ly thereat, and made answer, that albeit he knew partly the things by them alleged to be true, yet such entire love he bare to King Edward and his children, and so m.uch more regarded his honour in other realms * Cf. "to usward"(/'j. xl. 5, Eph. i. 19), "to theeward" (i Sam. xix. 4), "to youward'' {Eph. iii. 2), etc. — Ed. 176 NOTES, about than the crown of any one, of which he was never desirous, so that he could not find in his heart in this point to induce to their desire, for in all other nations where the truth were not well known it should per- adventure be thought that it were his own ambitious mind and device to depose the prince and to take himself the crown, with which infamy he would in no wise have his honour stained for any crown, in which he had ever perchance perceived much more labour and pain than pleasure to him that so would use it, as he that would not and were not worthy to have it. Notwithstanding, he not only pardoned them of the motion that they made him, but also thanked them for the love and hearty favour they bare him, praying them for his sake to bear the same to the prince under whom he was and would be content to live, and with his labour and coun- sel, as far as it should like the king to use it, he would do his uttermost devoir to set the realm in good estate, which was already in the little time of his protectorship (lauded be God !) well begun, in that the malice of such as were before the occasion of the contrary, and of new intended to be, were now, partly by good policy, partly more by God his special prov- idence than man's provision, repressed and put under. Upon this answer given, the Duke of Buckingham, by the protector his license, a little rounded, as well with other noble men about him as with the mayor and recorder of London. And after that (upon like pardon de- sired and obtained) he showed aloud unto the protector, for a final con- clusion, that the realm was appointed that King Edward his line should no longer reign upon them, both that they had so far gone that it was now no surety to retreat, as for that they thought it for the weal universal to take that way, although they had not yet begun it. Wherefore, if it would like his grace to take the crown upon him, they would humbly be- seech him thereunto, and if he would give them a resolute answer to the contrary (which they would be loth to hear), then must they seek, and should not fail to find some other nobleman that would. These words much moved the protector, which, as every man of small intelligence may wit, would never have inclined thereto ; but when he saw there was none other way but that he must take it, or else he and his both to go from it, he said to the lords and commons, Sith it is we perceive well that all the realm is so set (whereof we be very sorry), that they will not suffer in any wise King Edward his line to govern them, whom no man earthly can govern against their wills ; and we also perceive that no man is there to whom the crown can by so just title appertain as to ourself, as very right heir lawfully begotten of the body of our most dread and dear father Richard late Duke of York, to which title is now joined your election, the nobles and commons of the realm, which we of all titles possible take for most effectual, we be content and agree favourably to incline to your petition and request, and according to the same here we take upon us the royal estate of pre-eminence and kingdom of the two noble realms Eng- land and France ; the one, from this day forward by us and our heirs to rule, govern, and defend; the other, by God his grace and your good help, to get again, subdue, and establish for ever in due obedience unto this realm of England, the advancement whereof we never ask of God longer to live than we intend to procure and set forth. With this there was a INTRODUCTION. 1 77 great cry and shout, crying King Richard ! and so the lords went up to the king, and so he was after that day called. And forasmuch as his mind gave him that, his nephews living, men would not reckon that he could have right to the realm, he thought there- fore without delay to rid them, as though the killing of his kinsmen might end his cause and make him kindly king. Whereupon he sent John Green, whom he specially trusted, unto Sir Robert Brakenbury, constable of the Tower, with a letter and credence also, that the same Sir Robert in any wise should put the two children to death. This John Green did his errand to Brakenbury, kneeling before Our Lady in the Tower; who plainly answered that he would never put them to death to die therefore. ; With the which answer Green returned, recounting the same to King Richard at Warwick, yet on his journey; wherewith he took such dis- pleasure and thought, that the same night he said to a secret page of his. Ah, whom shall a man trust? they that I have brought up myself, they that I weened would have most surely served me, even those fail me, and at my commandment will do nothing for me. Sir, quoth the page, there lieth one in the pallet chamber without, that I dare well say, to do your grace pleasure, the thing were right hard that he would refuse : meaning by this James Tyrrel. . . . James Tyrrel devised that they should be murthered in their beds, and no blood shed; to the execution whereof he appointed Miles Forest, one of the four that before kept them, a fellow flesh bred in murther before- time ; and to him he joined one John Dighton, his own horse-keeper, a big, broad, square, and strong knave. Then all the other being removed from them, this Miles Forest and John Dighton about midnight, the sely* children lying in their beds, came into the chamber, and suddenly lapped them up amongst the clothes, and so bewrapped them and entangled them, keeping down by force the feather-bed and pillows hard unto their mouths, that within a while they smothered and stifled them ; and their breaths failing, they gave up to God their innocent souls into the joys of heaven, leaving to the tormentors their bodies dead in the bed ; which after the wretches perceived, first by the struggling with the pangs of death, and after long lying still, to be thoroughly dead, they laid the bodies out upon the bed, and fetched James Tyrrel to see them ; which when he saw them perfectly dead, he caused the murtherers to bury them at the stair foot, meetly deep in the ground, under a great heap of stones. Then rode James Tyrrel in great haste to King Richard, and showed him all the manner of the murther ; who gave him great thanks, and, as men say, there made him knight. — More. There came into his ungracious mind a thing not only detestable to be spoken of in the remembrance of man, but much more cruel and abom- inable to be put in execution : for when he resolved in his wavering mind how great a fountain of mischief toward him should spring if the Earl of Richmond should be advanced to the marriage of his niece (which thing * Seely, innocent, helpless. In Rick. II. v. 5. 25, the quartos have "seely," the folios "silly." See our ed. p. 217. — Ed, M 1^8 NOTES. he heard say by the rumour of the people that no small number of wise and witty personages enterprised to compass and bring to conclusion), he clearly determined to reconcile to his favour his brother's wife, Queen Elizabeth, either by fair words or liberal promises, firmly believing, her favour once obtained, that she would not stick to commit and lovingly credit to him the rule and governance both of her and her daughters ; and so by that means the Earl of Richmond of the affinity of his niece should be utterly defrauded and beguiled. And if no ingenious remedy could be otherwise invented to save the innumerable mischiefs which were even at hand and like to fall, if it should happen Queen Anne his wife to depart out of this present world, then he himself would rather take to wife his cousin and niece the Lady Elizabeth, than for lack of that affinity the whole realm should run to ruin, as who said, that if he once fell from his estate and dignity the ruin of the realm must needs shortly ensue and fol- low\ Wherefore he sent to the queen, being in sanctuary, divers and often messages, which first should excuse and purge him of all things before against her attempted or procured, and after should so largely promise promotions innumerable and benefits, not onlv to her, but also to her son Lord Thomas Marquis Dorset, that they should bring her, if it were pos- sible, into some wan-hope,* or, as some men say, into a fool's paradise. The messengers, being men both of w^it and gravity, so persuaded the queen with great and pregnant reasons, then with fair and large promises, that she began somewhat to relent and to give to them no deaf ear, inso- much that she faithfully promised to submit and yield herself fully and frankly to the king's will and pleasure. . . . Amongst the noblemen whom he most mistrusted these were the prin- cipal : Thomas Lord Stanley, Sir \Villiam Stanley his brother, Gilbert Taylor, and six hundred other, of whose purposes although King Richard were ignorant, yet he gave neither confidence nor credence to any one of them, and least of all to the Lord Stanley, because he was joined in mat- rimony with the Lady Margaret, mother to the Earl of Richmond, as after- ward apparently ye may perceive. For when the said Lord Stanley would have departed into his country to visit his family, and to recreate and re- fresh his spirits (as he openly said), but the truth was to the intent to be in a perfect readiness to receive the Earl of Richmond at his first arrival in England, the king in no wise would suffer him to depart before that he had left as an hostage in the court George Stanley, Lord Strange, his first begotten son and heir. . . . In the mean season King Richard (which w^as appointed now to finish his last labour by the very divine justice and providence of God, which called him to condigii punishment for his sceleratet merits and mischiev- ous deserts) marched to a place meet for two battles to encounter, by a village called Bosworth, not far from Leicester, and there he pitched his field, refreshed his soldiers, and took his rest. The fame went that he had the same night a dreadful and a terrible dream ; for it seemed to him, be- * Hsre=delusive hope, as the context shows. It is literally want of hope. See Wb. aiid cf. the Scotch compounds, ivan-grace^ wan-hick, waji-ihr'ift^ etc. — Ed. t Wicked (Latin sceleratus). yl/^-r/V^— deserts in a bad sense ; as in Leafy iii. 5. 8, v 3. 44, A. and C v. 2. 178, etc. — Ed. INTRODUCTION, lyq ing asleep, that he saw divers images like terrible devils, which pulled and hauled him, not suffering him to take any quiet or rest. The which strange vision not so suddenly strake his heart with a sudden fear, but it stuffed his head and troubled his mind with many dreadful and busy imagina- tions ; for incontinent after, his heart being also damped, he prognosti- cated before the doubtful chance of the battle to come, not using the alac- rity and mirth of mind and of countenance as he was accustomed to do before he came toward the battle. And lest that it might be suspected that he was abashed for fear of his enemies, and for that cause looked so piteously, he recited and declared to his familiar friends in the morning his wonderful vision and terrible dream. . . . Between both armies there was a great morass, which the Earl of Rich- mond left on his right hand, for this intent, that it should be on that side a defence for his part; and in so doing he had the sun at his back and in the face of his enemies. When King Richard saw the earl's company was passed the morass, he commanded with all haste to set upon them ; then the trumpets blew and the soldiers shouted, and the king's archers courageously let fly their arrows : the earl's bowmen stood not still, but paid them home again. The terrible shot once passed, the armies joined and came to hand-strokes, where neither sword nor bill was spared ; at which encounter the Lord Stanley joined with the earl. The Earl of Ox- ford in the mean season, fearing lest while his company was fighting they should be compassed and circumvented with the multitude of his enemies, gave commandment in every rank that no man should be so hardy as to go above ten foot from the standard ; which commandment once known, they knit themselves together and ceased a little from fighting. The ad- versaries, suddenly abashed at the matter, and mistrusting some fraud or deceit, began also to pause, and left striking, and not against the wills of many, which had iiefer had the king destroyed than saved, and therefore they fought very faintly or stood still. The Earl of Oxford, bringing all his band together on the one part, set on his enemies freshly. Again, the adversaries perceiving that, placed their men slender and thin before, and thick and broad behind, beginning again hardily the battle. While the two forwards thus mortally fought, each intending to vanquish and con- vince the other. King Richard was admonished by his explorators and es- pials* that the Earl of Richmond, accompanied with a small number of men of arms, was not far off; and as he a])proached and marched toward him, he perfectly knew his personage by certain demonstrations and to- kens wdiich he had learnt and known of other ; and being inflamed with ire and vexed with outrageous malice, he put his spurs to his horse and rode out oi the side of the range oi his battle, leaving the avant-gardes fighting, and like a hungry lion ran with spear in rest toward him. The Earl of Richmond perceived well the king furiously coming toward him, and, by cause the whole hope of his wealth and purpose was to be de- termined by battle, he gladly proffered to encounter with him body tc» body and man to man. King Richard set on so sharply at the first brunt * Explorators and esJ>ials=^SQ.o\xts and spies. For the latter. word* see HatK p. 216. Ed. i8o NOTES. that he overthrew the earl's standard and slew Sir William Brandon, nis standard-bearer (which was father to Sir Charles Brandon, by King Henry the Eighth created Duke of Suffolk), and matched hand to hand with Sir John Cheinye, a man of great force and strength, which would have re- sisted him, and the said John was by him manfully overthrown, and so he making open passage by dint of sword as he went forward, the Earl of Richmoncl withstood his violence and kept him at the sword's point with- out advantage longer than his companions other thought or judged; which, being almost in despair of victory, were suddenly recomforted by Sir William Stanley, which came to succours with three thousand tall men, at which very instant King Richard's men were driven back and fled, and he himself, manfully fighting in the middle of his enemies, was slain and brought to his death as he worthily had deserved. Of the nobility were slain John Duke of Norfolk, which was warned by divers to refrain from the field, insomuch that the night before he should set forward toward the king one wrote on his gate : "Jack of Norfolk, be not too bold, For Dykon thy master is bought and soM." — Hall. ACT I. Scene I. — The acts and scenes are marked throughout in the folio, but not in the quartos. 2. Sii7t. The quartos have **sonne," and the folio " Son." There may be a play upon the word, and there is certainly an allusion to the heraldic cognizance of Edward IV., which was a sun, in memory of the three suns that are said to have appeared at the battle of Mortimer's Cross when he defeated the Lancastrians. Steevens quotes Drayton, Miseries of Queen ^ ' *' Three suns were seen that instant to appes.r. Which soon again shut themselves up in one;" and again in the 22d song of the Polyolbion : *' And thankful to high heaven, which of his cause had care, Three suns for his device still in his ensign bare." 8. Measures. Dances. See R. and J. p. 153. 9. Grim-visag'd. Cf. grim-looked in Af. N. D. v. i. 171, and g7'im- gi'iujiing in V. and A. 933. See also on v. 3. 91 below. 10. Barbed. Caparisoned for war. See Rich. II. p. 196. 11. Fearful. Terrible; as in iii.4. 103 below. Some make it=full of fear ; as in iv. 2. 121, iv. 3. 51, iv. 4. 313, v. i. 18, and v. 3. 182. 13. Pleasing. Schmidt makes this=:pleasure, will, command. 17. Ambling. For the contemptuous use of the word, cf. i Hen. IV, iii. 2. 60, R. and ^ i. 4. u, and Ham. iii. i. 151. 19. Feature. Beauty, comeliness. Cf Ha7n. p. 220. Dissembling. Deceitful (Johnson). Warb. explained it, **that puts to« gether things of a dissimilar kind, as a brave soul and a deformed body.*^ 22. Unfashionable'. Changed by Pope to " unfashionably;" but the ad* ACT I. SCENE /. I8i verbial ending is sometimes omitted in one of a pair of adjectives, Cf. iii. 4. 48 below : *' cheerfully and smooth." See Gr. 397. 24. Piping. "When the pipe is sounding instead of the fife; or, per- haps, when no manly martial voice is heard, but only that of women and children " (Schmidt). 26. See. The folio reading ; the quartos have " spy." This is a fair sample of hundreds of little variations between the two texts. We shall not attempt to note all of them, but shall give enough to show how trivial they often are and how perplexing it is to choose between them. See p. 10 above. 27. Descant. Comment. See on iii. 7. 48 below; and cf R. of L. 1 134 : " For burden-wise I '11 hum on Tarqiiin still, While thou on Tereus descant' st better skill." 29. Well-spoken. Cf. i. 3. 348 below. The word is still in use ; but such forms were more common in Elizabethan English. See Gr. 294 and 374. 32. Inductions dangerous. " Preparations for mischief The induction is preparatory to the action of the play " (Johnson). Cf iv. 4. 5 below. 33. Libels. The only instance of the word in S. 36. Just. Plonest, as good as his word. 38. Mew'd up. Shut up, imprisoned. Cf 132 and i.3. 139 below; and 5ee M. N. D. p. 126. 39. A prophecy, etc. Holinshed (quoted by Malone) says: " Some have reported that the cause of this nobleman's death rose of a foolish prophe- cie, which was, that after King Edward should raign one whose first let- ter of his name should be a G; wherewith the king and the queene were sore troubled, and began to conceive a grievous grudge against this duke, and could not be in quiet until they had brought him to his end." Stee- vens cites Niccols, Tragical Life and Death of Richard III.: "- By that blind riddle of the letter G, George lost his life; it took effect in me." 44. Tendering. Having regard to. Cf ii. 4. 72 below. See Rich. II. p. 151 or Ham. p. 244. Here there is a touch of sarcasm in the word. 45. Conduct. Escort. See K. John, p. 133. 49. Belike. It is likely, it would seem. Cf i. 3. 65 below. 50. Should. The quartos have "shall." 52. For. The quarto reading; the folio has "but," which a reviser would hardly substitute when it occurs in the next line. It may be a com- positor's slip. 54. Hearkens after. Gives heed to. Cf Much Ado^ p. 166. 55. The cross-row. The alphabet ; so called, according to some, from the cross anciently placed before it, to indicate that religion was the chief end of learning ; or, as others say, from a superstitious custom of writing the alphabet in the form of a cross, by way of charm (Nares). The orig- inal form was Christ-cross-row, which became corrupted into criss-cross- rozv and contracted into cross-row. Halliwell quotes Babilon^ Seconds. Weeke of Du Bartas^ 1596 : " Who teach us how to read and put into our pawes Some little Chriscrosrow instead of civill lawes." x8j notes, J. W. cites Drayton, Soimet i : " To con my cross-row ere I learn'd to spell ;" and L-awson adds from Wordsworth, ExciLrsion^ book viii. : "From infant conning of the Christ-cross-row, Or puzzling through a primer, line by line." 58. Fo7\ Because. See M. of V. p. 134, note on Fo?- he is a Christian, 60. Toys. " Fancies, freaks of imagination " (Johnson). Cf Ham. i. 3. 6 : " toys of desperation ;" 0th. iii. 4. 156 : " no jealous toy," etc. ' 65. That te7npers hifn, etc. The reading of the ist quarto, changed in the 2d to "That tempts," etc. The folio has "That tempts him to this harsh Extremity." Here the earliest reading is clearly the best. The queen did not te??ipt the king, who w^as ruled by her, but te77ipered or moulded him to her will. Cf. T. G. of V. iii. 2. 64, Hen. V. ii. 2. 118, etc. 67. Woodeville. The quartos have " Wooduile," the folio " Woode- ulle." However spelt, the word is here a trisyllable. There, as Clarke remarks, " has the effect of denotement, with a dash of sarcasm super- added." 75. To her for his. The quarto reading. The ist folio has " was, for her," changed in the 2d to " was, for his." 81. O'erworn widow. A contemptuous reference to the queen (she w^as a widow when the king married her), herself htmg Mistress Shore. For o''erwom (=worn out) cf V.aud A. 135, 866, and So7ni.6^. 2. %']. Of what degree soever. Referring to 77ia7i, not to co7tfereiice. 92. Well struck i7i years. Cf 6'^//.xviii. 1 1, xxiv. \,Josh.^\\\.\,LtikeX 7, etc. 94. Passi7tg. Exceedingly ; often used adverbially, but only before ad- jectives and adverbs. 97. Nought. The first quarto and the folio have 7i07ight here, but naught in the next two lines. The latter is usually the spelling in the early eds. when the word is = worthless, bad, wicked. See A. V. L. p. 142. 100. Were best. It were best for him. See J. C. p. 166, note on Yoii were best ; or Gr. 230, 352 (cf 190). 106. Abjects. " That is, not the queen's subjects, whom she might pro- tect, but her abjects, whom she drives away " (Johnson). Mason remarks : " Gloster forms a substantive from the adjective abject, and uses it to ex- press a lower degree of submission than is implied l)y the word subject, which otherwise he would naturally have made use of The q7iee7i^s ab- jects means the 77iost servile of her subjects.^'' It is the only instance of the noun in S. Cf B. J., Every Ma7z Out of his Humour : " I '11 make thee stoop, thou abject." Steevens cites Chapman, Odyssey: "Whither.'* rogue ! abject." See also Ps. xxxv. 15. 115. Lie. That is, lie in prison (Schmidt). Cf. i He7i. IV. iv. 3. 96 : " There without ransom to lie forfeited." See also 3 He7i. VI. iii. 2. 70, etc. 116. I must perforce. Steevens sees an allusion to the proverb, "Pa- tience perforce is a medicine for a mad dog." Cf R. a7zd J. p. 161, note on Patie7ice pe7force. 121. iVew-delive7''d. As we have noted in other plays (see Ham. p. 236, on 7iew-lighted, and 2 He7i.IV. p. 180, on 7tew-dated), S. was fond of com- pounds with 7iew. Cf 50 above, and ii. 2. 125 and iv. 4. 10 below. 131. PrevaWd oji. Prevailed against. Cf iii. 4. 60 below. 132. Mew'd. See on 38 above. ACT I. SCEiVE II. 183 137. Fear him. Fear for him. See Ham. p. 188, or Gr. 200. 138. By Saint Paid. The folio has " by S. lohn," but by Saint Paul eXse- where in the play. The oath is said to have been habitual with Richard. 139. All evil diet. " A bad regimen " (Steevens and Schmidt), or bad habits in genera?. The expression is taken from More (p. 168 above). 142. Where is he, etc. The folio reading; the quartos have " What, is he in his bed?" 152. Bustle. Be busy or active. Cf. v. 3. 290 below. 153. Warwick's you7igest daughter. Lady Anne, widow of Prince Ed- ward, son of Henry VI. In 3 Hen. VI. iii. 3. 242, Warwick proposes his " eldest daughter" as a wife for Edward, but it w^as really the younger one that he married. 158. Close. Equivalent to secret^ as often. Cf. iv. 2.35 below. 159. By marrying her. Transposed for emphasis. Cf. Gr. 425. Scene II. — 3. Obsequiously, As befits the obsequies. Cf. obsequious in Ha7n. i. 2. 92 : ** To do obsequious sorrow." 5. Key-cold. Cf. R. of L. 1774: " in key-cold Lucrece' bleeding stream." Steevens remarks : " A key, on account of the coldness of the metal of which it is composed, was anciently employed to stop any slight bleeding. The epithet is common to many old writers." See Dekker, Satiromastix : "for fear your wise brains take key-cold ;" and The Coiuitry Girl, 1647 • " The key-cold figure of a man." 8. Invocate. Used by S. three times (cf. Sonn. 38. 10 and i Hen. VI. i. I. 52) ; invoke only twice. 12. Windows. Figuratively used as "not the usual and natural pas- sage " (Schmidt). Cf. K. John, i. i. 171 and v. 7. 29. 13. Helpless. Affording no help, unavailing. Cf. C. of E. ii. i. 39 : " So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee. With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me." See also R. of L. 1027, 1056. 14. 15. Oy cursed, etc. The folio reading ; the ist quarto has "Curst be the hand that made these fatal holes! Curst be the heart that had the heart to do it!" 16. This line is found only in the folios. i^. Hap. Fortune. Cf. i. 3. 84 below. 19. To wolves, to spiders. The folio reading; the quartos have "to ad- ders, spiders," etc. This has been generally adopted on the ground that wolves are not creeping thiitgs ; to which W. replies: "If the folio had merely wolves (ox adders, this reasoning w^ould be good, if not conclusive ; but it has, ' to wolves, to spiders, toads, or any creeping venom'd thing,' etc., where the repetition of the preposition cuts off the connection which would otherwise exist between * wolves' and 'creeping venom'd thing,' which refers only to spiders and toads. The change seems clearly to have been made, upon the revision of the play, for the purpose of giving the passage variety of thought and rhythm." Let any one read the pas- sage aloud, with the proper pause and change of expression after wolves, and we think he wnll admit that W. is right here. i84 NOTES. 22. Prodigiojis. Monstrous. Cf. M. N. D. v. I. 419, A". John, iii. i. 46, J^, and J. i. 5. 142, etc. 23. Aspect. The regular accent in S. Cf. 156 below. Gr. 490. 25. Uiihappiness. "Evilness" (Schmidt); "disposition to mischief" (Steevens). S. uses the word only here and in Much Ado^ ii. i. 361 (see our ed. p. 134). 29. Chertsey. A town on the Thames, 19 miles southwest of London. Henry VI. was buried in Chertsey Abbey, according to Grafton, "with- out priest or clerk, torch or taper, singing or saying;" but ancient records show expenditures for the funeral, for the hire of barges with rowers on the Thames to convey the body to Chertsey, and for obsequies and mass- es at the burial there. The abbey buildings were destroyed more than two hundred years ago, and only a few fragments of the walls now remain. The site of the abbey is shown in the cut on p. 37. 35. Devoted. Pious, holy. 37. / 7/ make a corse, etc. Johnson compares IIaj?i. i. 4. 85 : " I '11 make a ghost of him that lets me." 39. Unmanner'd. Cf T.ofS. iv. i. 169: "You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves !" For stand the ist folio has "stand'st." 42. Spnrn ttpon. Elsewhere (when the verb is intransitive) S. has spurn at, except in K. John^ iii. i. 141, where we find spurn against. /\i^. Curst. Shrewish. See Af. A^. Z>. p. 167. 52. Exclahns. The noun occurs again in iv. 4. 135 below ; also in Rich. II. i. 2. 2 and (singular) T. and C v. 3. 91. 54. Pattern. Masterpiece ; as in 0th. v. 2. ii : " Thou cunning'st pat- tern of excelling nature." 56. Bleed afresh. Johnson remarks : " It is a tradition very generally received that the murdered body bleeds on the touch of the murderer. This was so much believed by Sir Kenelm Digby that he has endeav- oured to explain the reason." According to Holinshed, this actually oc- curred on the occasion here represented. Steevens cites, among other illustrative passages, ^;v/^;/ of Fever sham, 1592 : "The more I sound his name, the more he bleeds: This blood condemnsihe, and in gushing forth Speaks as it falls, and asks me why I did it." 58. Exhales. Draws forth. Cf. 167 below ; and see Much Ado, p, 137, note on Hale. 65. Eat him quick. Swallow him alive. For quick— XWrng, see Hen. V. p. 156 or Ham. p. 262. 76. Crimes. The quartos have "evils," which the modern editors gen- erally adopt because Anne uses the word in her antithetical reply. W. remarks : " But if, in the former instance, evils were the original word, the change was evidently made with intention, and is a great improvement ; for it opposes known evils to supposed crivies : and the evils which Anne actually suffered, and for which she claims the right to curse, were the direct consequence of crimes which Richard calls supposed. By the change, too, Shakespeare freed the line of a superfluous and harmful syllable in a. part of the verse in which he solicitously avoided irregularity." ACT I. SCENE II, 185 78. Diffused. The quartos and the ist and 2d folios have "defus'd." The same form occurs in Hen. V. v. 2. 61 ; and Schmidt would retain it in both passages, making it = " shapeless." Johnson explains diffused 2iS "irregular, uncouth." W. suspects "a misprint for an epithet antithet- ical to divifie in Richard's speech" — possibly "deprav'd." The Camb. ed. reads " defused." 89. I4^hy, then they are not dead. The quarto reading; that of the folios is " Then sa}^ they were not slain." 93. In thy foul throat thoic liest. Thou liest deliberately. See 2 Heft. IV. p. 154, note on I had lied in viy throat. 98. Their. Referring to brothers. 102. I grant ye. The ist and 2d quartos have "I grant yea." Cf. I Hen. IV. ii. 4. 390 : " I grant ye, upon instinct," etc. 108. Holp. The form regularly used by S. except in v. 3. 168 below and 0th. ii. I. 138. See K. John, p. 138. 109. For he zuas fitter, etc. Cf. Per. iv. I. 10 : " The fitter, then, the gods should have her." 114. Betide. Used intransitively in ii. 4. 71 below, and with ^(=be- conie of) in i. 3. 6. 118. Slower. " As qitick was used for sprightly, so slower was put for serious''' (Steevens). 119. Timeless. Untimely. See R. and J. p. 217. 122. Effect. Execution ; as in Macb. i. 5. 48 : "That no coinpiinctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect and it." 128. Rend. The folios have " rent." See M. N. D. p. 166. 129. Wrack. Wreck; the only spelling in S. See Rich. II. p. 177 or T. N. p. 162. 149. Toad. For the old notion that the toad is venomous, see Macb. p. 228, note on Venom. 152. Basilisk. This fabulous creature was supposed to kill by a glance. See Hen. V. p. 183 (note on The fatal balls) or R. and J. p. 186 (note on Death-darting eye). Cf. also iv. i. 55 below. 154. A living death. Cf. R. of L. 726. Johnson, Steevens, and Malone quote many examples of the expression from other authors. 157. Remorseful. Pitiful, compassionate. For re7norse—\i\X.y, see iii. 7. 210 below. Cf. Macb. p. 171. Lines 157-168 are omitted in the quartos. 158. No. . Changed by Pope to " Not." 164. That. So that ; as often. Gr. 283. 165. Bedashed. The only instance of the word in S. For his use of the prefix be-, see Gr. 438. 167. Exhale. See on 58 above. 170. Smoothing. The folio reading ; the early quartos have "soothing." Cf. i. 3. 48 below: " Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog." See also 2 Hen. VI. i. i. 156 and Per. i. 2. 78. \%i. For ftic. The folio reading; the quartos have "twas I that kild your husband," and in 183 " t'was I that kild King Henry." 1 86 NOTES. 196. I fear me. For the reflexive use, cf. Temp. v. i. 283, T. N'. iii. i 125, Rich. II. ii. 2. 149, iii. 2. 67, etc. 203. Vouchsafe^ etc. The folio gives this line to Anne, and omits the next line. 212. May please yon. The quarto reading is '* would please thee," and in the next line " more " for ??iosf. 214. Crosby House. The quartos have "Crosby Place." This mag- nificent mansion, still standing in Bishopsgate Street, was built in 1466 by Sir John Crosby, grocer and woolman, w^ho died in 1475. ^^ became the residence of Richard when Duke of Gloster, and afterwards of Sir Thomas More, who doubtless here wrote his life of Richard III. In 1547, after the execution of More, the house was leased by William Roper, who had married Margaret More, ,,. , , ,,. , 'her who clasp d in her last trance Her murder'd father's head.'"* Here also for many years lived " Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother," whom Ben Jonson has immortalized in his well-known epitaph. In 1672 the building became a Presbyterian meeting-house, and later a ware- house ; but in 1831 a subscription was raised to restore it. It is now a popular restaurant, and the traveller may eat his lunch or dinner, as we have done, in the great hall where Richard banqueted in the olden time. This room has a fine timbered roof and the beautiful oriel window (now filled with stained glass representing the armorial bearings of the differ- ent occupants of the house) which is seen in the cut on p. 167. Externally this part of the mansion retains its original form, but the front on Bishops- gate Street is modern. In the neighbouring church of Great St. Flelen's are the tombs of Sir John Crosby and of Sir John Spencer, who bought Crosby House in 1594 and occupied it until his death, in 1609. 218. Expedient. Expeditious. See IC. Johji^ p. 141. 227. Tozvards Chertsey, etc. Before this speech the quartos have '•' Glo. Sirs, take up the corse ;" retained in many ruodern eds. 228. White' Friars, The convent of the Brotherhood of the Virgin of Mount Carmel, founded by Sir Richard Grey in 1241. Here many men of note were buried. The street now known as Whitefriars, on the right of Fleet Street, gets its name from the old convent. 229. 230. Stokes notes that these lines recur, with variations, in T. A, ' ^ ' "She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; She is a woman, therefore may be won;" and in i Hen. VI. v. 3. 77, 78 : "She 's beautiful, and therefore to be wooM; She is a woman, therefore to be won." 235. My hatred. The folio reading, which Coll., V., and W. also retain. The wj/is emphatic : the bleeding witness o( my hatred and malice being present. The corpse had bled in witness of Richard's hatred, not Anne's. The majority of the editors, however, read "her hatred" with the quar- tos, taking hatred as the repetition of hate in 233. "The witness of het * Tennyson, Dream of Fair Wometi. ACT I. SCENE III. 187 hatred" must then be— bearing witness to the justice of her hatred. It is a close question between the two ; but in such a case we prefer to fol- low the folio. 239. All the world to nothing. That is, the chances against me were as the world to nothing. Cf. 252 below : '• My dukedom to a beggarly de- nier." See also R. and J. iii. 5- 215 : "Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing, That he dares ne'er come back," etc. 242. At Tezvksbnry. " Here we have the exact time of this scene as- certained, namely, August, 147 1. King Edward, however, is in act ii. in- troduced dying. That king died in April, 1483 ; so there is an interval between this and the next act of almost twelve years. Clarence, who is represented in the preceding scene as committed to the Tower before the burial of King Henry VI., was in fact not confined nor put to death till seven years afterwards, March, 1477-8 " (Malone). 247. Abase. Lower, cast down ; as in 2 Hen. VI. i. 2. 15 : " And never more abase our sight so low," etc. The folio has "debase." 250. Moiety. Here apparently =^ half, as in ii. 2. 60 below ; but it often meant some other fraction. See W. T. p. 169 or Ham. p. 174. 251. Misshapen. The folio has "unshapen." 252. Denier. The twelfth part of a French son. See i Hen. IV. p. 183. 255. Mai'vellons proper. Wonderfully handsome. For the adverbial marvellojis, cf. Temp. iii. 3. 19, Much Ado^ iv. 2. 27, Hain. ii. i. 3, iii. 2. 312, etc. ¥ ox proper^ see M. of V. p. 132, note on A proper ??ian's picture. 256. Be at charges for. Go to the expense of. 261. /// his grave. Into his grave. Cf. i. 3. 89, 286, i. 4. 41, 142, iii. 2. 58, iv. 4. 23, and v. 3. 229 below. Gr. 159. Scene III.— 3. Brook it ill. Take it ill. Cf. brook well in A. Y. L. i. I. 140. 5. Quick. Lively, sprightly. See on i. 2. 118 above, and cf. 196 below. For words the folio has " eyes." 6. Betide of. See on i. 2. 1 14 above. 15. Determined. Resolved upon. C^;/<:///^^^=officially decided (Clarke). 16. miscarry. Die. See T. N. p. 152 or 2 Hen. IV. p. 182. 17. Stanley. The early eds. have " Derby " or " Darby ;" corrected by Theo., who says: "This is a blunder of inadvertence. . . . The person here called Derby was Thomas Lord Stanley, lord steward of King Ed- ward the Fourth's household. But this Thomas Lord Stanley was not created Earl of Derby till after the accession of Henry the Seventh." 20. The Countess Richmond. Margaret, daughter of John Beaufort, first Duke of Somerset. Her first husband was Edmund Tudor, Earl of Richmond, by whom she had one son, afterwards King Henry VII.; her second was Sir Henry Stafford (uncle to the Duke of Buckingham in this play) ; and her third the Lord Stanley w^ho is here addressed. 26. Enviotcs. Malicious; as often in S. Cf i. 4. 37 below. See M.ofV, p. 151. 36. Ay^ madam. The quartos have "Madamewe did." Atonement^ reconciliation ; the only sense of the word in S. See 2 Hen, IV. p. 184. 1 88 NOTES. 37. Between. Here, as in the next line and elsewhere, the quartos have "betwixt." The latter occurs often in S.,but between much oftener. 39. Warn. Summon ; as the word is still used in legal language. Cf. K. Johii^ ii. I. 201 : " Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls ?" 41. At the height. Cf. J. C. iv. 3. 217: " We, at the height, are ready to decline." The quartos have "at the highest." 43. Who ai'e they that co??tplain, etc. The quarto reading ; the folio has " Who is it that complaines," but them in the next line. 46. Dissentioiis. Causing discord, seditious ; as in V. and A. 657, Cor, i. I. 167, iv. 6. 7, etc. 48. Smooth. Flatter, fawn. See on i. 2. 170 above. Cog. " Deceive, especially by smooth lies " (Schmidt). See Mtich Ado, p. 164. 49. Duck zvith French nods. For the ridicule of French affectation, cf. R. and J. p. 172, notes on Pardonnez-mois and Bons ; and for the con- temptuous use oi duck, T. of A. iv. 3. 18 : "the learned pate Ducks to the golden fool." 53. Silken. Soft, effeminate ; as in K. John, v. i. 70 : "A cocker'd, silk- en wanton," etc. For the contemptuous Jacks (cf. 72 below), see Much Ado, p. 164. 60. Breathing-ivhile. Cf. V. and A. 1 142: "Bud and be blasted in a breathing-while." 61. Lewd. Vile, base. See i Hen. IV. p. 178. 63. On. The quartos have "of." 65. Belike. See on i. i. 49 above. /;//^r/^r = inward ; as in Cor. ii. i. 43. S. uses the adjective but twice, and the noun only in M. of V. ii. 9. 28. 67. Children. The quartos have "kindred" or "kinred." 68, 69. The reading of the early quartos, except that they have "to" for so, which is Capell's emendation. The folio has only " Makes him to send, that he may learne the ground." 77. We. The quarto reading ; the folios have " I." 80. Promotions. A quadrisyllable. The quartos have " whilst many fair promotions." 82. Noble. A gold coin, worth ^s. 6d. For the play upon the word, cf. Much Ado, ii. 3. 35, Rich. II. v. 5. 67, and i Hen. IV. ii. 4. 317, 321. %-}y. Careful. Full of care. See i^/V/z. //. p. 182. Gr. 3. 84. Hap. Fortune. See on i. 2. 17 above. 89. Suspects. Suspicions. Cf. iii. 5. 31 below. For in—\\\\.o, see on i. 2. 261 above. 90. Mean. The folio reading; the quartos have "cause." S. often uses mean in the singular, though oftener in the plural. See R.andJ. p. 189. For the double negative in deny . . . not, cf. C. of E. iv. 2. 7 : " First he denied you had in him no right," etc. Gr. 406. 102. I wis. Not a true verb, but a corruption of j^'w/>=truly, verily. Sec M. of V. p. 146. For ivorser, cf. M. N. D. ii. I. 208, R, and J. ii. 3. 29, iii. 2. 108, Ham. iii. 4. 157, etc. 106. Of. As in the folio ; the quartos have " with." S. uses both ACT I. SCENE III. 189 prepositions with acquaint^ but with more frequently. For acquaint ofy cf. Much Ado, iii. I. 40, W. T. ii. 2. 48, iv. 4. 423, K. and J. iii. 4. 16, etc. 107. Servant-maid. The reading of all the early eds. W. has " serving- maid," which S. nowhere uses. 109. To be so'baited, etc. The folio reading ; in the quartos the line is " To be thus taunted, scorned, and baited at." For baited ( —worried, as with dogs), cf. T A^. iii. i. 130, Macb. v. 8. 29, etc. Baited at does not oc- cur elsewhere in S. 114. Tell hivi, etc. This line is not in the folio, and 116 is not in the quartos. 116. Adventure. Run the hazard ; as in 2 He7t. VI. iii. 2. 350 : ** I will repeal thee, or, be well assur'd. Adventure to be banished myself." 117. My pains. '^ My labours, my toils" (Johnson). Cf. 314 below. 125. Royalize. Make royal ; used by S. only here. Steevens quotes Clatidins Tiberius Nero, 1607 : "Who means to-morrow for to royalize The triumphs,'' etc. 128. Were factions for. Were in the faction of, were partisans of. Cf. ii. I. 20 below. See also J. C. i. 3. 118. 130. Battle. Army ; as in v. 3. 24, 89, 139, 293 below. See also i Hen, IV. p, 189. Sir John Grey, Elizabeth's first husband, fell in the second battle of St. Albans, which was fought on Shrove Tuesday, Feb. 17, 1460-1. His lands were not " then seized on by the conqueror " (3 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 3), for the conqueror was Margaret herself; but they came into the pos- session of Edward after the battle of Towton, March 29, 1461, in which the king was victorious. Margaret then appealed to the mercy of Ed- ward, and won not only his pity but his love. 138. Party. Side. Cf. iv. 4. 524 below, and see K. John, p. 133. 139. Mew'd lip. See on i. i. 38 above. 142. Childish-foolish. The hyphen is not in the early eds. For com- pound adjectives in S. see Gr. 2. Cf. iii. 1.44 below. 144. Cacodcemon. Evil spirit ; used by S. only here. 148. Sovereign. The quartos have " lawful." 157. Patient. A trisyllable. See on 80 above. 158. Hear me, etc. "This scene of Margaret's imprecations is fine and artful. She prepares the audience, like another Cassandra, for the fol- lowing tragic revolutions" (Warb.). 159. Piird. Pillaged, robbed ; as on p. 168 above. Cf. Rich. II. p. 177. 163. Gentle villain. "The meaning oi gentle is high-born. An oppo- sition is meant between that and villain, which means at once a wicked and a loiv-born tvretch " (Johnson). " She means he is high by birth, low by nature ; a supreme or arch villain, a smooth-tongued and stealthy vil- lain, who would creep away from her presence to avoid her reproaches " (Clarke). 164. Mak'st. Doest. For the play upon the word in the reply, cf. A. Y. L. i. I. 31 and L. L. L. iv. 3. 190. See also Hatn. p. 185. 167-169. Wert thoit . . . abode. These lines are not in the quartos. 167. Banished. "Margaret fled into France after the battle of Hex- 190 NOTES. ham in 1464, and Edward soon after issued a proclamation, prohibiting any of his subjects from aiding her to return, or harbouring her should she attempt to visit England. She remained abroad till April 14, 1471, when she landed at Weymouth. After the battle of Tevvksbury in May, 147 1, she was confined in the Tower till 1475, when she was ransomed by her father Regnier, and removed to France, where she died in 1482. The present scene is in 1477-8; so that her introduction here is a mere poetical fiction" (Malone). 174. The cii7'se my noble fathej', etc. See 3 Hen. VI. i. 4. 66 fol. 176. Seo7'ns. The quartos have "scorn." For the plural, cf. Ham. iii I. 70 and I Hen. VI. ii. 4. 77. 181. Hath plagtieel thy bloody deed. Cf. K. John, ii. 1. 184 : " That he is not only plagued for her sin," etc. 182. So just is God, etc. Ritson compares Thomas Lord Cronnvell, 1602: " How just is God, to right the innocent !" 187. Northtcmberland, etc. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. i. 4. 172 : " What, weeping ripe, my lord Northumberland .''" 194. But. Only ; that is, could nothing less answer, etc. Peevish — ^\V ly, foolish ; as in iii. i. 31 and iv. 4. 419 below. See Hen. V. p. 171. 196. Quick. Lively, hearty. See on 5 above. 197. By snrfeit. "Alluding to his luxurious life " (Johnson). 206. Stair d. Installed, invested ; the only instance of this sense in S. 212. God, I p7'ay him. For the redundant pronoun (Gr. 243), cf. iii. ic 10, 26 below. See also p. 176 above. 214. Unlook'd. Unlooked-for; which S. uses elsewhere, and which the 3d folio substitutes here. 219. Them. For heaven as a plural, see Rich, II. p. 157 (note on TJiey see) or Macb. p. 183 (note on Their). 228. Elvish-marked. "The common people in Scotland have still an aversion to those who have any natural defect or redundancy, as think- ing them marked out for mischief" (Steevens). In /z^?^ there is an allu- sion to the boar in Richard's armorial bearings. The Mirror for Magis- trates contains the following " Complaint of Collingbourne, who was cru- elly executed for making a rime :" '■ For where I meant the king by name of hog, I only alluded to his badge tlie bore : To Lovel's name I added more, — our dog; Because most dogs have borne that name of yore. These metaphors I us'd with other more, As cat and rat, the half-names of the rest. To hide the sense that they so wrongly prest." The rhyme of Collingbourne, as quoted by Henley from Heywood'S Ed- ward IV., was the following : "The cat, the rat, and Lovell our dog Doe rule all England under a hog, The crooke backt boore the way hath found To root our roses from our ground. Both flower and bud will he confound, Till king of beasts the swine be crown'd: And then the dog, the cat, and rat, Shall in his trough feed and be fat." ACT L SCENE III. 191 The persons meant were the king, Catesby, Ratcliff, and Love], as the " Complaint," quoted above, explains : " Catesbye was one whom I called a cat, A craftie lawyer catching all he could ; The second Ratcliffe, whom I named a rat, A cruel beast to gnaw on whom he should : Lord Lovel barkt and byt whom Richard would, ^Vhom I therefore did rightly lerme our dog, Wherewith to ryme 1 cald the king a hog." That L(yvel was a common name for a dog is evident from The Historic of Jacob and Esau, an interlude, 1568 (quoted by Steevens) : ''Then come on at once, take my quiver and my bowe ; Fette lovell my hounde, and my home to blowe." Gray, in The Bard, refers to Richard thus : "The bristled boar in infant gore Wallows beneath the thorny shade." Cf. iii. 2. 1 1, 28, 'j^, iii. 4. 81, iv. 5. 2, v. 2. 7, and v. 3. 157 below, 230. The slave of nature. Warb. sees in this an allusion to the brand- ing of slaves, his misshapen person being " the mark that nature had set upon him to stigmatize his ill conditions ;" but the meaning maybe sim- ply "one who is the lowest, the most servile, in the whole realm of nat- ure " (W.). 233. Rag. Changed by Warb. to "wrack;" but cf. v. 3. 329 below: "these overweening rags of France ;" and T. of A. iv. 3. 271 : " thy father, that poor rag." 235. Cry thee mercy. Beg your pardon. See M. N. D. p. 159. 238. Make the period to. Finish, conclude. Cf. R. of L. 380 : " the period of their ill ;" 2 Hen. IV. iv. 5. 231 : " My worldly business makes a period," etc. 241. Flou7'ish. " Varnish, gloss, ostentatious embellishment" (Schmidt). Cf. Sonn. 60. 9 : " Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth ;" L. L. L. ii. I. 14: " the painted flourish of your praise," etc. 242. Bottled spider. A big bloated spider. Cf. iv. 4. 81 below\ Steevens fills half a page with ridicule of one "Robert Heron, Esquire," who had made it mean " a spider kept in a bottle long fasting, and of consequence the more spiteful and venomous." 248. Move onr patience. That is, move it to wrath. Cf. 288 below: " awake God's gentle-sleeping peace ;" Much Ado, v. I. 102 : " we will not wake your patience ;" Rich. II. i. 3. 132 : " to wake our peace," etc. 256. Fire-new. Fresh from the mint, like braftd-new. Cf. Z. Z. Z. i. I. 179 : "fire-new words ;" T. N. iii. 2. 23 : " fire-new from the mint," etc. 262. Touches. The quartos have " toucheth." 264. Aery. A brood of nestlings (literally, "an eagle's or hawk's nest"), Cf. K. John, v. 2. 149 : " And like an eagle o'er his aery towers ;" Ham. ii. 2. 354 : " an aery of children," etc. 273. Peace, peace. The quartos read " Have done;" apparently changed to avoid the repetition in 279 below. 277. My charity. The charity shown me. My is the " objective gen- itive." 192 NOTES, 282. Now fair befall thee. Good fortune be thine. Cf. iii. 5. 46 below. 288. Awake^ etc. See on 248 above, and cf. the carrying out of the metaphor in the passage from kick. II. 293. Their marks. See on 228 and 230 above. 296. Resj^ed. Regard, care for ; as in i. 4. 146 below. Cf. J. C, iv. 'X. 6q • ■^ ^ "That they pa^s by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not." 305. Mitse why. The quartos have ''wonder," which means the same. Cf. K. John, iii. i. 317: *' I muse your majesty doth seem so cold;" 2 He7t. IV. iv. I. 167 : *' I muse you make so slight a question," etc. 314. Frank' d up, K frank was a hog-sty. Cf 2 Hen. IV. ii. 2. 160 ; ''doth the old boar feed in the old frank?" S. uses the noun nowhere else, and the verb only here and in iv. 5. 3 below. 317. Scath. Harm, injury. See K. John, p. 141. 318. Well advis'd. " \\\ one's sound senses, not mad " (Schmidt). Cf. C. of E. ii. 2. 215 : " Sleeping or waking t Mad or well-advis'd V See also iv. 4. 513 below. The early eds. rarely direct that a speech be spoken aside ; but the folio here inserts ^^Speakes to hiniselfe.''^ 325. Abroach. Used only with set, and only in a bad sense. Cf. 2 He7t» IV. iv. 2. 14 and R. and y. i. i. 1 1 1. 328. Beweep. See on i. 2. 165 above, and cf begnazu in 222 above. 337. Forth of. The quartos have "out of." ¥ ox forth of cf Te?np. v. I. 160, Rich. II. iii. 2. 204, J. C. iii. 3. 3, etc. On the passage, cf M. of V, i. 3. 99 : " The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose." 340. Stont-resolved. Boldly resolute ; not hyphened in the early eds., but probably a compound adjective, as Sr., D., and W. make it. 347. Obdurate. Accented on the penult ; as in iii. i. 39 below, and al- ways in S. Cf. V, and A. 199 : " Art thou obdurate, flinty, hard as steel .''" See also M. of V. iv. i. 8, 2 Hen. VI. iv. 7. 122, etc. 348. Well-spoken. See on i. i. 29 above. 353. Yonr eyes drop millstones, etc. Apparently, as Steevens notes, a proverbial expression. Cf CcEsar and Pompey, 1607: "Men's eyes must millstones drop, when fr^ols shed tears." ¥ or fall (see J. C. p. 169, note on They fall their crests) the quartos have " drop." Scene IV. — Enter Clarence and Keeper. " The quartos have the di- rection, ' j5";//^r Clarence, Brokenbury f and they prefix either '■ Bro.'' or '•Brok.^ to all the replies to Clarence and the two Murderers. But the folio has not only 'Enter Clarence and Keeper,'' but prefixes ^ Keep.'' to all the replies to Clarence, down to the line ' I will, my lord,' etc., inclusive ; and then has the direction, ^ Enter Brakenbiiry the Lieutejtant,'' to which character it assigns, by the prefix ''Bra.,^ the ensuing lines, ' Sorrow breaks seasons,' etc., and all the replies to the Murderers, until they are left alone with their victim. This would seem sufficiently decisive evidence, that, even if the quartos gave the first distribution, a change was made on the revision of the play; but that there might be no lack in this regard, Clar- ACT I, SCENE IV, 193 ence's last speech before he falls asleep, which in the quartos begins, ' O Brokenbtirie^' begins in the folio, ' Ah, Keeper, Keeper,' and the line, ' I pray \\it^ gentle Keeper stay by me,' is changed in the folio to, ^Keeper, I prythee sit by me a-vvhile.' It is also noteworthy that Brakenbnry, when heyields custody of Clarence to the Murderer, says, in the quarto, ^Heere are the keyes, there sits the duke asleepe,' but in the folio, ' There lies the Duke asleepe, and there the Keyes.' Now it was a violation of all pro- priety to make Sir Robert Brakenbury, Lieutenant of the Tower, go about with a bunch of ponderous keys at his girdle or in his hand. These keys were evidently carried by the keeper, a higher sort of gaoler, but a person of rank much inferior to that of Brakenbury, the commander of the Tower. The stage direction and the prefixes of the quarto are probably the result of the limited number of actors in Shakespeare's company when the play was first produced, which caused the easily merged parts of the Keeper and Brakenbury to be assigned to one performer, whose MS. of his part was probably used in getting out the surreptitious edition of this very popular play. When it was revised, about 1601, this necessity seems to have ceased, and the minute but particular and decisive changes which have been pointed out were made" (W.). 3. Offeiwfiil dreai7is, of ttgly sigJits. The quartos have "of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams." 4. Faithful. " Not an infidel " (Johnson). 8. I pray yoii^ tell vie. The quarto reading is " I long to hear you tell it." 9. Methoiight. The quartos and the folios have "Me thoughts." In 24 below the folios have "Me thoughts" or "Methoughts," the quartos "Me thought." In 58, the ist quarto has "me thoughts," the other early eds. "me thought" or "methought." The only other instance of "me- thoughts " in the early eds. is in W, T. i. 2. 154. It was a form in use in the time of S., but it is not probable that he mixed it up with the other in these two speeches, when elsewhere he regularly has methought. Cf. W.T.^.iSS. 13. The hatches. The deck ; as in 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 103 : "I stood upon the hatches in the storm," etc. 14. Cited tip. Cf. R. of L. 524: "Shalt have thy trespass cited up in rhymes." For heavy the quartos have "fearful." 2.1. O Lord! The quartos read " Lord, Lord !" and in 23 " ugly sights of death," and in 25 "Ten thousand." 27. Unvalued. Y\^x^~-inestimable, like invaluable now. In the only other instance of the word in S. {Ha?}i. i. 3.9) it is^not valued. 28. All scaite7'\i, etc. The quartos omit the line, and also the words "and often did I strive To yield the ghost " in 36, 37 below. 38. Stopped in. A more specific and more forcible expression than the " Kept in " of the quartos. 40. Bulk. Body (Malone), or, rather, the chest ; as in Ham. ii. i. 95: " it did seem to shatter all his bulk ;" and A^ of L. 467 : " her heart . .. Beating her bulk." 45. /. The quartos have " Who." 46. Sour. Morose ; more in keeping with the classical descriptions of N 194 ■ NOTES. Charon than the "grim" of the quartos. Cf. Rich. II. v. 3. 121 : "my sour husband," etc. 54. Shricfzd. The quartos have " squeakt " (ist quarto ''squakt "), for which cf. Ilcmi. i. i. 116 : " Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets," etc. 55. Fleeting. Inconstant. Cf. A. and C. v. 2. 240 : " The fleeting moon ;" opposed to " marble-constant," and="the inconstant moon " of /v. and J . ii. 2. 109. 64. A'o juarvel though. No wonder if; as in V.and A. 390, Sonii. 148. II, M. N. D. ii. 2. 196, etc. 65. / am afraid, nic'thinks. The quartos have " I promise you, I am afraid," and in 67 " Which now bear evidence." 69-72. O God! . . . children! These four lines are not in the quartos. 71. ///. Eitherr=upon (W.) or=in the case of; as in R. of L. 77 : "tri- umph in so false a foe." See also Rich. II. ii. 3. 10 : " In Ross and Wil- loughby," etc. Cf Gr. 162. 72. Aly gnil ties s wife. The wife of Clarence died before he was confined in the Tower (Malone). 80. And for, etc. "They often suffer real miseries for imaginary and w;;r^^?/ gratifications" (Johnson). Clarke explains it thus: "and instead of pleasures of imagination, which they never experience, they often ex- perience a multitude of restless cares." He adds: " This seems to us to be a reflection naturally growing out of Clarence's description of his late dreams; which, instead of being filled with images of beauty and peace, are crowded with troublous and terrible visions." ' 85. What wouldst thou, etc. The quartos read " In God's name what are you, and how came you hither?" and in 88 below "Yea, are you so brief?" and in 90 " Show him our ["your " in 7th and 8th quartos] com- mission." 94. Of. The quarto reading; the folios have "from," which S. does not elsewhere use W\t\\ guiltless. 98. You may, sir; '/ is. The quartos have " Do so, it is ;" in loi, " No, then he will say;" and in 103, "When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake till the judgment day." 116. My holy himiour. The quarto reading; the folios have "this pas- sionate humour of mine," where "passionate" might be=:"full of emo- tion" ( W.). The ironical holy seems to us more in keeping with the con- text. 120. Faith. Omitted in the folio, doubtless on account of the statute of James I. against irreverent language on the stage. So in 123 below the folio changes Zounds to "Come." Cf. 0th. p. 11, and i Heji. IV. p. 144, note on 'Sblood. 131. / '// not meddle with it, etc. " Very noteworthy, as a point of high dramatic art in harmony and unity of moral aim, is the occurrence of a speech upon conscience here from a rough fellow like this murderer, and the occurrence of another upon conscience afterwards from the royal hero-villain of the play [v. 3. 179 fol.]. Compare the diction of the two speeches, the profound ethical lesson contained in the two speeches, and the perfectly characteristic and poetic appropriateness of each of these ACT I. SCENE IV. 195 two speeches, and then say whether our Shakespeare be not indeed a writer to learn from and to glory in " (Clarke). 133. Shame-faced. The ist quarto has " shamefast," which was the more common spelling of the time, and etymologically the proper one. See Wb. s. v. 142. Hi77i. Referring, not to the devil, but to conscience, "which is sud- denly thus impersonated, as being one influential spirit brought in oppo- sition to another" (Clarke). 143. Insinuate with. Ingratiate himself with you. Cf. V. and A. 1012 : "With Death she humbly'doth insinuate;" and A. Y. L. epil. 7: "nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play." 146. TalL "The meaning oi tall in old English is stout^ daring, fear- less, and strong^'' (Johnson). See T. N. p. 123. 147. Shall we fall to work? The quarto reads "shall we to this gear ?" 148. On the costard. On the head. The quartos have "over" for on. A costard was properly a kind of apple (whence costernionger or costard- monger), and the term was contemptuously applied to the head as being round like an apple. Cf. M. W. iii. i. 14, L. L. L, iii. i. 71, and Lear^ iv 6. 247. Por hilts as applied to a single sword, see J. C. p. 182. 149. And then throw him into. The quartos read "and then we will chop him in." 151. ^ sop. Any thing steeped or softened in liquor. Cf T. and C. i, 3. 113: " the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores,' And make a sop of all this solid globe.'' See also T. of S. iii. 2. 175, 178. 152-154. Soft^ he wakes, etc. The quartos have: "i Murd. Hark! he stirs: shall I strike? "2 Murd. No, first let 's reason with him." 154. Reason. Talk. Cf M. of V. ii. 8. 27 ; " I reason'd with a French- man yesterday," etc. See also ii. 3. 39, iii. i. 132, and iv. 4. 533 below. 157. What art thou ? Who are you } See Ham. p. 253. Gr. 254. 164. Your eyes, etc. This line is not in the quartos. 175. Drawn forth among. The quartos have " call'd forth from out," and in 177 " Where are the evidence that do." For ^c/^;/c-^=witness or witnesses, cf Lear, iii. 6. 37, and Much Ado, iv. i. 38. \']%. Quest. Inquest, jury. Qi, Sonn. dfi. lO'. "To 'cide this title is impanneled A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart." See also Ham. v. i. 24 : " crowner's quest law." 181. Convict. Convicted. Ci. graft in iii. 7. 126, contract in iii. 7. 178, and acquit in v. 4. 16 below. Gr. 342. 183. To have redemption. The folio reads "for any goodness," and omits the next line; doubtless on account of the statute referred to in the note on 120 above. 196 NOTES. 189. Erroneous. Mistaken; not elsewhere applied to a person by S. He uses the word only here and in 3 Heit. VI. W. 5. 90. 192. Spurn at. See on i. 2. 42 above. 197. Receive the sacrcmient. Take an oath. See Rich. II. p. 207, or K. John, p. 172. The quartos have "receive the holy sacrament, 'to fight in quarrel," etc. 198. In quarrel of. In the cause of, on behalf of. See Macb. p. 153, note on Quarrel. 201. Unrifdst. The early quartos have " Unripst," and the folio *' Un- rip'st;" corrected by Rowe. The old text may indicate the contracted pronunciation of the time. Cf. -ts for -test (Gr. 340). 204. Dear. Extreme. For the intensive use of dear, see K. John, p. 138. Cf. v. 2. 21 below, where for dearest the quartos have "greatest." 210. O, know, etc. The line is not in the quartos. 215. Gallant-springing. "Growing up in beauty" (Schmidt). The hyphen is not found in the early eds., but was inserted by Pope. See on i. 3. 142 above. 216. Novice. " Youth, one yet new to the world " (Johnson). 217. My brother'' s love. My love for my brother. So, in the next line, thy brothej'^s love=o\x\- love for thy brother. 222. Aleed. Reward, recompense. It is the reachng of the ist quarto and the folios ; the other quartos have " neede." 231. And chared, etc. The line is omitted in the folios. 234. Millstones. See on i. 3. 353 above; and for another allusion to the proverb, cf. T. and C. i. 2. 158 : ■ " Pandarus. But there was such laughing ! Queen Hecuba laughed that her eyes ran o'er. " Cressida. With millstones.*' See also Massinger, City Madam, iv. 3 : ''Fortune. Thou dost belie him, varlet ! he, good gentleman, Will weep when he hears how we are used. *' I Serjeant. Yes, millstones." For lesson'' d, cf. Cor. ii. 3. 185 : " As you were lesson'd ;" T. G. of V. ii. 7. 5 : " To lesson me," etc. 238. // cannot be, etc. The passage in the quartos stands thus : " It cannot be ; for when I parted with him, He hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs," etc. 240. Labour. Work for. For the transitive use, cf. Much Ado, p. 167. 241. When he delivers you. The quartos read " now he delivers thee," and in the next line "world's" for earth's. In the next speech they have *" Hast thou" for Have you, " art thou " for are you, etc. 251. Relent I 'tis cowardly, etc. The ist quarto gives the passage thus : " Cla. Relent, and saue 3'our soules. " I Relent, tis cowardly and womanish. " Cla. Not to relent, is beastly, sauage, diuelish. My friend, I spie some pitty in thy lookes: Oh if thy eye be not a flatterer. Come thou on my side, and intreat for nic, A begging Prince, what begger pitties not ?'" ACT IL SCENE I. 197 The folio gives it thus with the addition of five lines : *' Clar. Relent, and saue your soules : Which of you, if you were a Princes Sonne, Being pent from Liberty, as I am now, If two such murtherers as your selues came to you, Would not intreat for life, as you would begge Were you in my distresse. "i Relent? no: 'Tis cowardly and womanish. '"'da. Not to relent, is beastly, sauage, diuellish:" etc. W. remarks : " The difficulty of the passage as it stauds in the folio was long since discovered. It is impossible to believe that Shakespeare wrote such feeble nonsense as that in the last three lines of Clarence's speech as it appears in that version which has just been quoted. Theo- bald and others made futile efforts at emendation ; but it was left for Tyrwhitt to discover that the difficulty was caused by the insertion in the wrong place of the five lines added on the revision of the play. By a mis- take easily made, they were inserted after the first line of the first of these two speeches, whereas they were intended for the same position in the second. This appears not only by the absurdity of Clarence's first speech in the corrupted reading, but from severance in that reading of Clarence's entreaty, 'Relent,' and the Murderer's prompt reply, 'Relent! 'tis cow- ardly,' etc., the latter of which was, from its very nature, plainly intended to follow the former en the instant. In the reading of the folio, ' Re- lent.^ ;/(?,' the negative is doubtless an accidental insertion." Malone, Steevens, Sr., D., the Camb. editors, Clarke, and others follow Tyrwhitt. Capell, St., and H. (school ed.) omit the added lines. K.* and V. follow the folio ; as Coll. does, with a change in pointing, and the addition of three words from his MS. corrector, thus : "Would not entreat for life? As you would beg, Were you in my distress, so pity me." 263, 264. Take that, etc. The quartos read "I [ay] thus, and thus: if this w^ill not serve He chop thee in the malmesey but in the next roome." 267. Grievous nnirlker. The quartos have "grievous guilty murther done." 275. Give order. The quartos have "take order," for which see iv. 2. 54 below. ACT II. Scene I. — 5. To. The ist and 2d quartos have "from." W. reads " for." For /ar/— depart, see M. of V. p. 145, and for part to, cf. T of A, IV. 2,21 : u^g m\x%\. all part Into this sea of air." * In his ist ed. K. says that he has followed "the folio instead of adopting the arbi- Itrary regulations of the modern editors," but his printer, perhaps from mistaking the 'marginal directions of the "copy," has transposed the five lines, " Which of you," etc., as Tyrwhitt does. " If such an error can escape the notice of so careful an editor, how likely is it to occur in the folio, which could hardly be said to have an editor at all !" iCamb. ed ) 198 NOTES. 7. Rivers and Hastings. The quarto reading ; the folios have " Dorset and Rivers." 8. Dissemble not, etc. " Do not cherish a concealed hatred, but swear a mutual love " (Clarke). 12. Daily. Trifle. Cf. iii. 7. 73 an 1 v. i. 20 below. 20. Factions. See on i. 3. 128 abo^^e. 30. Embrace?nents. Used oftener by S. than etnbfaces. Cf. C. of EA, I. 44, W. T. V. I. 114, Co7'. i. 3. 4, etc. 33. ^/// . . . doth cherish. Instead of cherishing. See Gr. 125. 44. Period. Completion. Cf. i. 3. 238 above. 45. And, in good time, etc. The folios read : '''' Buc. And in good time, Heere comes Sir Richard Ratcliffe and the Duke." with the stage-direction " Enter Ratcliffe, and Gloster.'^ Spedding re- marks : " Here the alteration in the stage-direction was no doubt intend- ed. Sir Richard Ratcliffe is described by More as one 'whose service the Protector specially used in that counsel [the murder of the lords at Pomfret] and the execution of such lawless enterprises, as a man who had been long secret with him,' etc. He had an important part in the action of the play, though he scarcely speaks a dozen times all through. S. probably thought it advisable to bring him and his relation to Rich- ard into prominence, that when he appears presently in the execution of his office the spectators might know who he was. Therefore, though he is a mute in this scene, he was to come in with Richard : and ' Ratcliffe ' or ' Sir Richard Ratcliffe ' was written in the margin, meaning it to be added to the stage-direction 'Enter Gloster.' The printer or the tran- scriber mistook it for an insertion meant for the text, and thrust it into Buckingham's speech, where it disorders the metre and does not come in at all naturally." 51. Swelli7ig. Angry. Cf i Hen. VI. iii. I. 26: " From envious malice of thy swelling heart," etc. 53.' Heap. Throng. Cf. y. C i. 3. 23 : "and there were drawn Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women," etc. 56. Unwittingly. The quarto reading; the folios have "unwillingly,'' which is doubtless a misprint. 66. Of you. Lord Rivers, tic. The reading of the first four quartos the folios have : "Of you and you. Lord Rivers and of Dorset;" and afte\ 67 they insert the line, " Of you Lord Woodvill, and Lord Scales of you." As Malone observes, there was no such person as Lord Woodvill. 69. I do Jiot know, etc. Milton, in his Eikonoklastes, has the following reference to this passage : "The poets, and some English, have been in this point so mindful of decorum, as to put never more pious words in the mouth of any person than of a tyrant. I shall not instance an ab- ^^iriisc author, wherein the king might be less conversant, but one w^hom we wtU know was the closest companion of these his solitudes, William Shakespeare ; who introduced the person of Richard the Third, speaking in as high a strain of piety and mortification as is uttered in any passage ACT II. SCENE II 199 in this book, and sometimes to the same sense and purpose with some words in this place. I intended (saith he) not only to oblige my friends, but my enemies. The like saith Richard : 'I do not know that Englishman alive, With whom my soul is any jot at odds. More than the infant that is born to-night : I thank my God for my humility.' Other stuff of this sort may be read throughout the tragedy, wherein the poet used not much license in departing from the truth of history, which delivers him a deep dissembler, not of his affections only, but his religion." 75. Lord . . . highness. The quartos have *' liege . . . majestv." 90. Lag. Late, tardy. Cf. lag of { — \2X^x than) in Lear, i. 2. 6. Buried is here a trisyllable. 92. Nearer in bloody thoughts, etc. Cf. Macb. ii. 3. 146 : " the near in blood, The nearer bloody." 94. Go ciwrent frojn suspicion. Pass free from suspicion, are believed to be all right. For the metaphor, cf. i. 3. 256 above aixl iv. 2. 9 below. 99. I^he forfeit. That is, the thing forfeited, or his servant's life. Cf M. of V. iv. I. 37 : "To have the due and forfeit of my bond," etc. 107. Be advis'd. Be considerate, be not hasty. Cf. i. 3. 318 above. 115. Lap. Wrap. Cf. Macb. i. 2.54: "lapp'd in proof;" and Cymb. v. 5.360: "lapp'd In a most curious mantle." See also Milton, Z'^//. 136 : " Lap me in soft Lydian airs ;" and cf. p. 177 above. 119. Fluck'd. A favourite word with S. Cf. i. I. 55, ii.2. 58, iii. i. 36, iv. 2. 65, and v. 4. 19 in the present play. 120. To put it. As to put it. Cf iii. 2. 27 below. Gr. 281, 127. Ungracious. Impious, wicked. Cf. Rich. II. ii. 3. 89 : "and that word grace In an ungracious mouth is but profane;'' and I IIe7i. I f/^. ii. 4. 490: " Swearest thou, ungracious boy V 129. Beholding. Beholden ; the only form in S. Cf. iii. i. 107 below. Gr.372. 138. Still. Constantly ; as very often. Gr. 69. Scene II. — Enter the Duchess of York. "Cecily, daughter of Ralph Neville, first Earl of Westmoreland, and widow of Richard Duke of York, who was killed at the battle of Wakefield in 1460. She survived her husband thirty-five years, living till the year 1495 " (Malone). I. Good granda?n, etc. The quartos read, "Tell me, good grandam, is our father dead.'*" and in 3, " Why dcj you wring your hands, and beat," •etc. 6. OrphanSyWretches. The quartos have "wretches, orphans," and in II "lost labour to weep for one," etc. 8. Cousins. Here^grandchildren. For its application to nephews, uncles, brothers-in-law, etc., see Hani. p. 179. Cf. iii. i. 2 below. 14. Imp07'tune. Accented on the penult, as regularly in S. See Na?n. p. 190. 2 00 NOTES. 15. Prayers, A dissyllable, as usually in S. Cf. v. I. 21 below. Gr. 479. 16. And so will /. Omitted in the quartos. 18. Incapable. That is, unable to comprehend. 21. Provok'd to it by. The quartos have " provoke'd by," and in 24 "And hugd me in his arme " (''arms" in 7th and 8th quartos). 28. Visor. As in the folios ; the quartos have " vizard," for which see Macb. p. 211. 30. Dugs. '' Of old this word was used in no derogatory sense, and merely as we now use bi^easts " (W.). Cf. 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 393 : ** As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe Dying with mothei?'s dug between its lips." 38. Impatience. A quadrisyllable. See on i. 3. 80 above. 39. Act, Suggested by the preceding scene, Cf K. Johu^ ii. i. 376: " As in a theatre, whence they gape and point At your industrious scenes and acts of death." See also Temp. ii. i. 252, T. N. v. i. 254, and Macb. ii. 4. 5. 41,42. Why gi'owy tic. The quartos read : "Why grow the branches now the root is wither" d? Why wither not the leaves, the sap being gone?" 46. Ne''er- changing night. The quartos have ''perpetual rest." The Coll. MS. gives "ne'er-changing light." Cf i, 4. 47 above. 50. His ifnages. " The children by whom he was represented " (John- son). 51. But now two mirrors^ etc. Malone compares R. of L. 1758 : " Poor broken glass, I often did behold In thy sweet semblance my old age new born ; But now that fair fresh mirror, dim and old, Shows me a bare-bon'd death by time out-worn." See also Sonn. 3. 9 : " Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee - Calls back the lovely April of her prime ; So thou through windows of thine age shalt see Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time. ' ' The two mi^-rors are Edward and Clarence ; \\\t^ false glass is Gloster. 60. Moiety. See on i. 2. 250 above. 61. Overgo. Go beyond, exceed ; as in Sonn. 103. 7 : "That overgoes my blunt invention quite." O'ergo is=rgo over, travel, in L. L. L. v. 2. 196 : " Of many weary miles you have o'ergone." 69. The watery moon is "the moon, the governess of floods " (M. A^. D. ii. I. 103) or the ruler of the tides. See also I Hen. IV. i. 2. 31 : "being governed, as the sea is, by the moon." 77. Dear. In a double senses" of one so dearly loved," and "so iu' tensely severe " (Clarke). %\. Parceird. "Particular" (Schmidt), or "separately dedicated to particular objects " (Clarke). 84, 85. And so do I ; I for an Edward weep. These words are in thfi quartos, but not in the folios. ACT IL SCENE IL 20I 89-100. Comfort . . . throne. These lines are found only in the folios. 94. Opposite with, Cf. T. N.u. 5. 162: "opposite with a kinsman." 95. For, Because. See on i. i. 58 above. 104. Cry y oil mercy. Beg your pardon. See on i. 3. 235 above. 109. Amen, etc. See p. 26 above. 112. Cloudy. That is, with "cloudy brow" (2 Hen.VI.m. i. 155) or "cloudy looks" (/^. P. 312). See also Temp. ii. i. 142 and i Hen. IV, iii. 2. 83. 113. Pleavy mutual. The quartos have "mutual heavy." 117. Hearts. The folio has "hates," which the following lines show to be a misprint. " For in no sense can we suppose Buckingham to de- clare that the rancor, broken or unbroken, of their high swollen hates must h^ preserved ; and even with hearts the figure, although intelligible and even impressive, is far from being clearly made out" (W.). 120. Me seemeth. It seems to me. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. iii. i. 23 : " Me seem- eth then it is no policy," etc. The me is a dative, as. in methinks. See M. of V. p. 135 (note on Methought) or Gr. 297. 121. Fet. Equivalent to the " fetcht " of the quartos. See Hen. V. p. 163. Cf. Chaucer, C. T. 819 : " the wyn was fet anon ;" Id. 2527 : "in to the paleys fet," etc.* See another example in note on i. 3. 228 above. "Edward the young prince, in his father's lifetime and at his demise, kf^pt his household at Ludlow, as Prince of Wales ; under the govern- ance of Antony Woodville, Earl of Rivers, his uncle by the mother's side. The intention of his being sent thither was to see justice done in the Marches ; and by the authority of his presence to restrain the Welsh- men, who were wild, dissolute, and ill-disposed, from their accustomed murders and outrages" (Theo.) 123-140. Why . . . say I. These lines are omitted in the quartos. 127. The estate is green. Referring to the youth of the king. 129. As please himself. As may please himself. For the impersonal verb, see on 120 above. For the form, cf. A. Y. L. epil. 14: " as much of this play as please you," etc. 130. Apparefit. Evident, manifest. See K. John, p. 165 or Rich. II p. 150. ^TiZ' Compact. The accent on the last syllable, as regularly in S. ex- cept in I Hen. VI v. 4. 163. 142. ludlow. The folios misprint " London," as also in 153 below. Ludlow Castle is in the town of Ludlow in Shropshire, near the Welsh boundary, and was built shortly after the Norman Conquest. Edward IV. repaired it as a residence for the Prince of Wales and the appointed place for meeting his deputies, the Lords Presidents, who held in it the Court of the Marches, for transacting the business of the principality. Here, at the time represented in the play, the prince, twelve years old, kept a mimic court with a council. Ordinances for the regulation of his household were drawn up by his father not long before his death, pre- scribing his religious duties, his studies, his meals, and his sports. No * The line-numbers and the readings are those of Gilman's ed. of Chaucer (Boston 1879). Our future references will be to this edition, unless some other is specified. 202 NOTES. LUDLOW CASTLE. man is to sit at his board except such as Earl Rivers shall allow ; and while he is at table it is ordered "that there be read before him noble stories, as behoveth a prince to understand ; and that the communica- tion at all times, in his presence, be of virtue, honour, cunning [knowl- edge], wisdom, and deeds of worship, and nothing that shall move him to vice." Sir Henry Sidney, the father of Sir Philip Sidney, resided here while Lord President of the Marches, and extensive additions were then made to the castle. In 1634, when the Earl of Bridgewater was Lord President, Milton's Comus was represented at Ludlow ; and here also Butler, who was Steward of the Castle under Lord Carbery, wrote part of Hiidibras. At present the structure is a grand and imposing ruin. The great hall, where Connis was first played, is roofless, and little re- mains to show the nncient splendour of the other apartments ; but the Norman keep, no feet high, ivy-mantled to the top, and the circle of smaller towers about it, are still standing, a conspicuous landmark on the rocky hill above the town. 144. Censztres. Opinions. See Ham, p. 190. ACT 11. SCENE III. 203 T47. Sort. Find, seek. Cf. R. of L. 899: "When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end?" 3 Hen. VI. v. 6. 85 : "But I will sort a pitchy day for ihee," etc. 148. Index. Prelude, prologue ; the index having been formerly put at the beginning of a book. See Ham. p. 236. Cf. iv. 4. 85 below. 150. My other self. Cf. J. C. ii. i. 274: "to me, your self, your half;" Sonn. 10. 13: "Make thee another self, for love of me;" Id. 73.8: "Death's second self," etc. Lord Campbell called Prince Albert "the alter ego of the sovereign ;" taking the alter ego from Cicero, with whom the expression seems to- have been a favourite one. Cf. Ep. Earn. 7. 5 : "vide quam mihi persuaseiim te me esse alterum ;" Id. 2. 15: "quo- niam alterum me reliquissem ;" Id. Att. 4. i : " me alterum se fore dixit," etc. Cicero got it from Aristotle {'ir^^oi avroi, in Etk. M.S. 12. 3), as the " tamquam " implies in Lcsl. 21. 82: "amicus est tamquam alter idem." 153. /, as a child^ etc. " This, from that arch-schemer Richard, shows his subtle mode of making men's weaknesses subservient to his own views ; since he affects to be guided by Buckingham's superior ability in craft and strategy, of which he knows him to be proud" (Clarke). Cf. iii. 5. 5 fol. below. Scene III. — i. Good inorrowy tic. The quartos have "Neighbour, well met ; whither away so fast .'*" and in 3 " Ay " for Yes, and in 4 " Bad " for ///. 4. Seldom co?nes the better. A proverbial saying=good news is rare. Reed quotes The English Courtier, 1586: "as the pioverbe sayth, sel- dome come the better." It is also found in Ray's Proverbs. 5. Giddy. "Excitable" (Schmidt). The quartos have "troublous," as in 9 below. 8. God help the while ! God'help us now ! Cf. iii. 6. 10 below : " Here 's a good world the while !" See also K. John, p, 165, note on 5ad zvorld the luJiile I II. Woe to that land, etc. As Steevens notes, a quotation from Eerie- siastes, x. 16 : " Woe to thee, O land, when thy king is a child !" 13-15. That in his nonage, etc. That in his riper years he himself, and till he comes of age his council, shall govern well. It is like ii. 4. 59 be- low, except for the inversion of the clauses in the latter part. Cf. W. T. iii. 2. 164, 203, Macb. i. 3. 60, ii. 3. 45 (where there is an inversion), etc. For That the folio has " Which." 18. Wot. Knows ; used only in the present tense and the participle wotting. See W. T. p. 175. Cf. Gen. xxi. 26, xxxix. 8, xliv. 15, etc. 28. Haught. Haughty. Cf. Rich. II. iv. i. 254, 3 Hen. VI. ii. I. 169, etc. The quartos read, "And the queen's kindred haughty and proud." 30. Solace. Take comfort, be happy. Cf. R. and J. iv. 5. 47 : ' But one thing to rejoice and solace in;" and Cynib, i. 6. 86 : "Lamentable! What, To hide me from the radiant sun and solace 1' the dungeon by a snuff?"' 204 XOTES. 36. Sort. Ordain; as in M.ofV. v. i. 132 . " But God sort all !" 39. You caimot reason almost. You can scarcely talk. See on i. 4. 154 above. 40. Looks not heavily. Cf. i. 4. i above and iii. 4. 48 below. 41. Still. Ever, always. See on ii. i. 138 above. 42. histind. Accented on the last syllable, as regularly in S. See 2 Hen. IV. p. 149. On the passage, cf. Holinshed : " Before such great things, men's minds of a secret instinct of nature misgive them ; as the sea without wind swelleth of himself some time before a tempest." 43. Ensuing. Coming, impending. See Kick. II. p. 172. Pi'oof—t^L- perience ; as in J. C ii. i. 21 : " 't is a common proof," etc. Scene IV. — i, 2. Last 7iight, etc. The ist quarto reads : The folio has : " Last night I heare they lay at Northampton, At Stonistratford will they be to night." " Last night I heard they lay at Stony Stratford, And at Northampton they do rest to-night." According to Hall they did actually lie at Stony Stratford (which is twelve miles nearer to London) and were the next morning taken back by Glos- ter to Northampton, where they spent the next night; but the next line favours the quarto reading, as the archbishop would not speak of the pos- sibility of their making the journey of sixty miles from Northampton in a single day. The account, moreover, seems to be that of a regular pro- gression. K., Coll,, v., and W. follow the folio. 20. If his rule were true. The ist and 2d quartos have "if this were a true rule;" the others omit "true." In the next line the quartos have " Why, madam, so no doubt he is;" and in the next, "I hope so too." The folios assign 21 to " York.''^ 23. Had been remember'' d. Had thought of it. See A. Y. L. p. 184. 28. Could gnaw a crust, etc. According to the chroniclers, he was born " not untoothed." See p. 168 above. 34. I cannot tell, etc. Of course his mother had told him, but he is "too shrewd " to say so. 35. Parlous. A popular corruption oi perilous, often used ironically. Cf. iii. I. 154 below, and see M. A'. D. p. 155. Gr. 461. 37. Pitchers have ears. Mai one remarks that S. has not quoted the proverb correctly, and cites A Dialogue by William Bulleyn in which it occurs in the still familiar form, "Small pitchers have great ears." Cf. T. of S. iv. 4. 52: " Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants." This example suggests that the meaning may be, as Schmidt gives it, "there may be listeners overhearing us." 38. Here comes, etc. The 1st quarto has ''''Enter Dorset,''^ and gives this speech thus: "Here comes your sonne, Lo : M. Dorset. What newes Lo : Marques .^" 45. Eor what offence. The quartos give this speech to " Car.''^ (Car- dinal), and the folios to '''■Arch.f' but, as the former have "lady" in 48, Johnson transferred the question to Queen Elizabeth. He is followed by D., the Camb. editors, and Clarke. It is probable, as W. suggests, ACT IL SCENE IV. 205 that the "lady" of the quartos was due to mistaking the abbreviation "Lo." for "La." 49. Ay me. Equivalent to " ah me !" which S. never uses. See M. N'. D. p. 128. 51. Jut. The quartos have "iet" {—jet),io\ which see T. N'. p. 142. \V. remarks; " Jut and/^/are different forms of the same word, and meaii to protrude, to thrust out. The latter form, however, was used especially 10 signify a pompous or pretentious gait. So in Udall's Eloquent Latiiie Phrases^ 1 58 1 : ''Farvtenonem incedere video. ... I see Parmeno aoxsxt jet- ting like a lord. . . . But properly incede^-e differeth from ainbtdare. For incede?-e properly [meaneth] to goe wyth a stately pace, as who shoulde say, to shew a great gravity or majesty in going as Princes doe when they shew themselves in their estate ;' and on the same page ' wyth a nyce or tender and soft, delicate, or gingerly pace ;' ' the pace that great princes or noblemen use when they shew their Estate or majesty.' And see Skinner, Etymologicon^ 167 1 : 'To Jet, magnijice Incidere, Fastttose se in- ferre . . . corpus prorsuvi yacere, vel Jactare.' " See also Wb. under yV/ andy///. 52. Azueless. Inspiring no awe. In K. John^ i. i. 266 ("the aweless lion") it is=: fearless. The quartos have "lawless." 54. Map. A picture or image ; as often in S. See Rich. II. p. 207, note on Thou map of honour. 59. For ?ne, etc. See on ii. 3. 13 above. 61. Clean overblown. For . have "icie, cold." 179. Divided con7icils. " That is, a private constdtaiion, separate from the known and public council " (Johnson). Cf iii. 2. 20 below. See also the extract from Holinshed, p. 169 above. 182. Ancient. Old. See W. T. p. 189, and cf 2 Hen. IV. p. 166. 183. Are let blood. Cf J. C. iii. i. 152: " Who else must be let blood," etc. 185. Mistress Shore. After the death of Edward IV. Jane Shore be- came the mistress of Hastings. 190. Crosby House. The quartos have "Crosby Place." See on i. 2. 214 above. 192. Coniplots. Both the noun and the verb are accented by S. on either syllable. For the noun, cf. 200 below^ ; and for the verb, see Rich. II. i. I. 96 and i. 3. 189, the only instances in which he uses it. 193. Chop off his head, man. See p. 26 above. SometJiing we will determine. " So the folio ; the quartos, * ^oiwtivhat we will do,^ which reading is preferred by almost all editors. But, aside from the authority of the folio, determine, in its fine sense, bring to an end, is much preferable to the more vague and commonplace 'do ' (Rich- ard means to have done wnth vacillation and vacillators in the surest and quickest way), and the change avoids the bald repetition of Buckingham's query ' what shall we do ?' and also the cacophony, ' somcTc^hat w^ will ' " (W.). St., on the other hand, thinks that the folio reading "sadly mars Gloster's energy," and he therefore adopts "the spirited version of the quarto text." 195. The movables, etc. Cf Rich. II. ii. i. 162 ; ACT III, SCENE II. 211 **The plate, coin, revenues, and movables Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd ;" M. of V. iv. I. 389 : " of all he dies possess'd " (see also v. i. 293), etc. 198. Kindness. The quartos have " willingness." Scene II. — i. My lord, my lord. The quartos read "What, ho ! my lord!" and in reply "Who knocks at the door?" and in the next line " K messenger from the Lord Stanley." These variations continue in the following lines. II. Rased. The term rase or rask is always used of the violence in- flicted by a boar (Steevens). Cf Warner, Albions England : " Ha I cur, avant, the boar so rashe thy hide ;" Percy, Reliques : " Like unto wild boares rashing," etc. It' seems to have^been an old hunting term. See p. 171 above. For the allusion in boar^ see on i. 3. 228 above. 25. Instance. Cause, ground. The quartos have "wanting instance." See Hatn. p. 226. 26. Simple. The quartos have "fond," which means the same. 2']. To trust. That is, as to trust. See on ii. i. 120 above. 40. Garland. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 5. 202 : " So thou the garland wear'st ;" Id. V. 2. 84 : " Be you contented, wearing now the garland," etc. See our ed. p. 198. 47. Upon his party. Upon his side ; as in iv. 4. 524 below. See Rich, II. p. 195,- or K. John, p. 133. 52. Still. Always. See on ii. i. 138 above. 55. To the death. Though death were the consequence. Cf. L. L. Z. V. 2. 146 : " No, to the death, we will not move a foot," etc. 58, 59. They . . . their. For the redundant pronoun, see Gr. 243 (cf. 415). See also on iii. i. 10 above. 70. For they account, etc. That is, they count upon having his head taken off and set high on London Bridge. 75. The holy rood. The holy cross. See Ham. p. 235. 76. Several. Separate. Cf Temp. iii. i. 42 : "for several virtues Have I lik'd several women; never any With so full soul but some defect in her Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed, And put it to the foil;" and see our ed. p. 131. 77. As yours. The folio reading; equivalent to that of the quartos, ^''disyoudo yours." The ellipsis is not more peculiar than many others in S. See Gr. 382. 86. Misdoubt. Mistrust ; as in M. W. ii. i. 192, etc. 88. The day is spent. The folio reading ; but it is obviously inconsist- ent with the opening of the scene, which makes the time four o'clock tn the morning. The 1st quarto gives 91-93 thus: "But come my Lo : shall we to the tower? '"''Hast. I go: but stay, heare you not the newes, This day those men you talkt of, are beheaded." 2 12 .VOTES. The Camb. editors think that the folio reading "looks like an attempt of the editors to amend the defective metre of the quartos." 89. I/iive with you. Take me with you, I '11 go with you. See A, Y. L, p. 146. Wotyomvhat? Do you know ? What do you think ? CL Hen. VIIL iii. 2. 122 : "and wot you what I found.'"' See on ii. 3. 18 above. 91. Truth. Honesty, integrity. See K. Jahn^ p. 135. 92. Their hats. J. H. explains this as = "their dignities;" but it is probably used quibblingly for " their heads," as Schmidt gives it. 94. Enter a Pursuivant. A ptirsuivant was a state messenger or her- ald. Cf. I He7i. VI. ii. 5. 5: "And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death " (that is, heralds or forerunners), etc. See also v. 3. 59 below. 96. That your lor dsJiip please. That it should please your lordship. 105. Grajnercy. Great thanks (Fr. grand merci). Cf. M. of V. ii. 2. 128, etc. 108. Sir John. For Sir as a priestly title, see T. N. p. 157, note on Sir Topas. 109. Exercise. Performance of religious duties ; as in iii. 7. 63 below. no. CoTitent. Pay. Cf. 0th. iii. i. i : "I will content your pains." After this line the folio has " Priest. He wait vpon your Lordship ;" but as it gives the same words just below (121) as a speech of Hastings, it is probable that a m.arginal correction in the MS. (neither speech is in the quartos) was accidentally inserted twice by the printer. After no the quartos have the stage-direction, ^^ He whispers in his eare.'''* w^y- Shriving work. Confession. Ci. Ha7n.\.2. ^'] : "Not shriving time allowed," etc. So shrift in iii. 4. 94 below. Scene 111. — i. In the quartos the scene begins with a speech by Rat- cliff, "Come, bring forth the prisoners." 4. God bless the pii^icey etc. Walpole remarks : " Queen Elizabeth Grey is deservedly pitied for the loss of her two sons ; but the royalty of their birth has so engrossed the attention of historians, that they never reckon into the number of her misfortunes the murder of this her second son. Sir Richard Grey. It is remarkable how slightly the death of Earl Riv- ers is alV\'ays mentioned, though a man invested with such high offices of trust and dignity ; and how much we dwell on the execution of the lord chamberlain Hastings, a man in every light his inferior. In truth, the generality draw their ideas of English story from the tragic rather than the historic authors." 6, 7. These lines are not in the quartos. 8. O Pomfret, Pomfretl See Rich. IL p. 208. 10. Closure. Enclosure. Cf. V. and A.']Z2'. "Into the quiet closure of my breast;" and Sonn. 48. II : "Within the gentle closure of my breast." It is^^end in T. A. v. 3. 134: "And make a mutual closure of our house." 15. When she exclai7n''d, etc. This line is found only in the folios. The Coll. MS. changes /to "me." Cf. M. of V. iii. 2. 321 : "between you and I," etc. Gr. 209. For exclaim on (=:cry out against), cf. V. atui A. 030 : " And sighing it again, exclaims on Death ;" R. of L. 741 : " She ACT IIL SCENE IV. 213 stays, exclaiming on the direful night ;" M.of V. iii. 2. 176 : " to exclaim on you," etc. 23. Expiate. Brought to a close, finished. Cf. Sonn. 22. 4 : " Then look I death my days should expiate." S. uses expiate only in these two pas- sages. Schmidt compares the old play of Kifig Leir : "And seek a means to expiate his wrath." Sr. and W. adopt Steevens's conjecture of "expirate." Clarke remarks: "As expiate is now used to express 'to annul by atonement, to cancel by reparation, to blot out by making xc- dress,' so we think the word is here used for 'annulled, cancelled^ end- ed.' " For the form, see Gr. 342. Scene IV. — i. Ncnv^ noble peers, etc. The quartos read : " My lords, at once," etc. 4. h all things ready, etc. The folio reading. The quartos have " Arc all things fitting," etc. ; but in the reply " It is," like the folios. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. ii: "Is all things well?" 0th. i. i. 172: "Is there not charms?" etc. See also Gr. 335. 5. Wants hit nomination. The only thing wanting is the appointment of the day. 8. Inward with. Intimate with, in the confidence of. Cf. L. L. L. v. I. 102 : "for what is inward between us, let it pass " (that is, what is con- fidential), etc. 10. We knoiv, etc. Before this the quartos insert *' Who I my Lo ?" 26. Ct4e. A metaphor taken from the theatre. See M. N. D. p. 156. 31. My Lord of Ely. Dr. John Morton, of Baliol College, Oxford, Preb- endary of Salisbury, Lincoln, St. Paul's, and York, who was elected tu the see of Ely in 1478, on the death of William Grey. He became Ma^s- ter of the Rolls, Lord Chancellor, Archbishop of Canterbury, and a Car- dinal. The marriage of the Earl of Richmond with Elizabeth of York, which put an end to the long contest between the houses of York and Lancaster, was. according to Sir Thomas More, of his contriving. In Holborn. The palace of the Bishop of Ely was in Hoi born, Lon- don, and Ely Chapel, recently restored, remains to mark the place. See Rich. II. p. 169, note on Ely House. 32- 1 .saw good strawberries, etc. See pp. 27, 170 above. The circum- stance is also used by Dr. Legge '\\\ his Latin tragedy (see p. 12 above) : '*Eliensis antistes venis? senem quies, Juveneni labor decet: ferunt hortum tuum Dec?ra fraga plurimum producere. Episcopics Eliensis. Nil tibi claudetur hortus quod nieus Producit ; esset lautius vellem mihi Quo sim tibi gratus." 45. Prolong d. "Postponed, put off; as in Much Ado, iv. i. 256: "this wedding day Perhaps is but prolong'd; have patience and endure." 48. Cheerfully and smooth. See on i. i. 22 above, 49. Likes. Pleases. Cf. Ham. v\ 2. 276 : '* This likes me well ;" and see our ed. p. 274. See also p. 176 above. Gr. 297. 214 NOTES. 55. Livelihood, Liveliness, vivacity, animation. Cf. V. and A. 26 : " The precedent of pith and livelihood ;" and A. IV. i. i. 58: "the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek." These are the only instances of the word in S. Here the quartos have " likelihood," which many editors retain, making it=semblance, appearance. Mr. W. N. Lett- som says that " livelihood scarcely accords with ' love or hate ' above ;" but it accords perfectly with looks cheerfully and smooth and such spirit. The main point in what Hastings says is that something seems to please Gloster ; the added remark that no man can lesser hide his feelings, whether of love or hate, being secondary or incidental. It is true that S. elsev^^here uses likelihood \\\ the sense of sign or indication (as in A. W. i. 3. 128: "many likelihoods informed me of this before," etc.), but here livelihood seems to us the more expressive word. It is adopted by K., W., Halliwell, and others. 57. For were he^ etc. After this line, the quartos insert the speech ^^ bar. I pray God he be not, I say." It is retained by some of the ed- itors. 58. I pray you all^ etc. See p. 170 above. 75. Off with his head ! See p. 27 above. 77. Lovel and Ratcliff. The names are found only in the folio- As Ratcliff, according to the preceding scene, which is on the same day, was at Pomfret, he could not be present here. Theo. therefore changed Rat- cliff to " Catesby ;" but in the next scene, while he makes Lovel and Catesby bring in the head of Hastings, he allows Gloster, just before their entrance, to say " Catesby, o'erlook the walls." K. remarks : " This is one of those positions in which the poet has trusted to the imagination of his audience rather than to their topographical knowledge." 80. Fond. Foolish. See on iii. 2. 26 above. %Ty. Foot-cloth horse. A horse with a foot-cloth, or housings. Cf. 2 Heji. VI. \Y. 7. 51 : ''^ Cade. Thou dost ride in a foot-cloth, dost ihou not? ''Say. What of that? " Cade. Marry, thou oughtest not to let thy horse wear a cloak, when honester men than thou go m their hose and doublets." Steevens quotes The Legend of Lord Hastings, 1563 : " My palfrey in the playnest paved streete, Thryse bow'd liis boanes, thryse kneled on the flower, Thryse shonnd (as Balams asse) the dreaded tower." On stumbling as a bad omen, see R. and J. p. 216, note on Stumbled at graves. 88. T7-iumphing. Usually accented, as here, on the second syllable. See I Hen. IV. p. 200. 92. Is lighted. Has descended. See J. C. p. 182, note on A^oiv some light. In Per. iv. 2. 77, the participle is light. 94. Shrift. Confession ; as in R. and J.'i. I. 165 : " To hear true shrift," etc. See also p. 171 above. 101-104. Cojne, come, etc. These lines are not in the quartos. 103. FearfulTsi. On contracted superlatives in S., see Gr. 473. ACT III. SCENE i: 215 Scene V. — E^iUr Gloster a/u^ Buckingham, in rotteri armour, etc. This is according to the stage-direction in the folio, which reads : "^;/- ter Richard, and Buckiftgham, in rotte^i Armour, maruellous ill-fatiored.'''^ The modern eds. generally change rotten to '''' rusty ^ See p. 173 above. 4. Distraught. Distracted ; used by S. only here and in R. and J. iv. 3. 49 (see our ed. p. 206). Sly corrupts the word into bestraught in T. of S. ind. 2. 26. 5. TtU, I can, etc. The quartos read : "Tut feare not me. I can," etc. They omit line 7. Clarke remarks : " This conceit of Buckingham's in his own powers of acting and feigning comes with almost a comic effect as displayed to Richard's very self, and played upon by him with a demure affectation of belief in its existence, while turning it to his own purposes." See on ii. 2. 152 above. 8. Intending. Pretending. Cf. Much Ado, ii. 2. 35 : " intend a kind of zeal both to the Prince and Claudio." See also iii. 7. 44 below. 9. Enforced. Forced, counterfeited ; as in J. C. iv. 2. 21 : "When love begins to sicken and decay. It useth an enforced ceremony.'' 10-20. In the first quarto the passage stands thus : "And both are ready in their offices To grace my stratagems. Enter Maior. '• Glo. Here comes the Maior. ^'' Bnc. Let me alone to entertaine him. Lo: Maior, " Glo. Looke to the drawbridge there. '"''Bug. The reason we have sent for you. " Glo. Catesby ouerlooke the wals. ''''Buck. Harke, I heare a drumme. ''^ Glo. Looke backe, defend thee, here are enemies. '''' Biic. God and our innocence defend vs. Enter Cafesby '"''Glo. O, O, be quiet, it is Catesby. with Hast, head.'''' 24. The plainest harmless. Probably an instance of the omission of the superlative inflection with one of a pair of adjectives. Cf M.forM. iv. 6. 13: "The generous and gravest citizens;" M. of V. iii. 2. 295: "The best condition'd and unwearied spirit" (that is, most unwearied), etc. See Gr. 398. Abbott, however, is inclined to read "plainest-harmless " (Gr. 2). Cf. 32 below. 25. Christian. A trisyllable. Gr. 479. 26. Book. That is, " table-book " ( W. T. iv. 4. 610 and Ham. ii. 2. 136) or note-book. Cf. Cor, v. 2. 15 ; "The book of his good acts ;" and see Id. iii. I. 293, etc. 29. Apparent. Evident, manifest. See on ii. 2. 130 above. 30. Conversatio7i. Intercourse ; as in Ham. iii. 2. 60, Cyvib. i. 4. 113, etc. 31. Attainder. Taint, stain. Cf. Rich. II. iv. i. 24: "the attainder of his slanderous lips," etc. 6'//j/^^/=suspicion ; as in i. 3. 89 above. 34. Almost. Hardly, even. Cf. K. John, iv. 3. 43 : " Or do you almost think, although you see," etc. 43. Extreme. The adjective is accented by S. on the first syllable, ex- cept in Sonn. 129.4, 10 (Schmidt). 45. Enforc'^d. Forced, constrained. Cf 9 above. 2i6 NOTES. 46. Fair befall you. Cf. i. 3. 282 above. 54. Hath. Pope's correction of the "have" of the early eds., which may be what S. wrote. Such *' confusions of construction " (cf. Gr. 412) are not uncommon in the plays. 62. As well as I. That is, as well as if I, etc. Qi. Macb. i. 4. 1 1 : " As 't were a careless trifle," etc. Gr. 107. 68. But since. The quarto reading ; the folios misprint " Which since." Too late of —too late for. Gr. 173 or 174 (Abbott puts it under Gr. 166). 71. Go, afte?', after. Not " Go after, after ;" as sometimes pointed. The after is itself an imperative — follow. Cf. Rich. II. v. 2. iii : "After, Aumerle ;" Ham, iv. 2. 33 : " and all after," etc. 72. /;/ all post. In all haste, or post-haste. See R. aiid J. p. 218, note on 1)1 post. 'J2>' Meefst. Most fitting or convenient. See on iii. 4. 103 above. 74. Iiifer. Bring in, allege; as in iii. 7. 12, 32, iv. 4. 345, v. 3. 315 below. See also T.ofA.m.^.l'K'. ,, , . . ^ ,, ■^ ^ / v^ " 't IS mferr a to us His days are foul and his drink dangerous." 75. A citizen. " This person was one Walker, a substantial citizen and grocer at the Crown in Cheapside" (Grey). These accusations against Edward were all contained in the petition presented to Richard before his accession, and were afterwards embodied in an act of Parliament (Blakeway.) 79. Lnxnry. Lasciviousness, lust; the only meaning in S. See Hen. V. p. 166 or Hufi. p. 196. 80. Change. Changing humour, capriciousness. Cf. Cymb. ii. 5. 25 : "change of prides," etc. 82. Ragijig. The quartos have " lustful," and " listed " for lusted in the next line. 86. Insatiate. The quartos have "unsatiate." In iii. 7. 7 below, the folios have "unsatiate" and the quartos "insatiate." Cf. W. T. p. 177 (note on Incertainties) or K. John, p. 143 (note on Infortunate). Gr. 442. 92. Sparingly, Cf. Hen. V. i. 2. 239 : " Or shall we sparingly show you far off The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy?" 97. Bay7iard^s Castle. This old feudal mansion, "so called of Baynard, a nobleman that came in with William the Conqueror," stood on the Thames, a little below the present Blackfriars Bridge and just above St. Paul's Pier, where Castle Baynard Dock now is. Maud Fitzwalter, to whom King John paid his unwelcome addresses, was a daughter of " the Lord of Castle Baynard." Humphrey Duke of Gloucester built a palace on the site of the original Castle Baynard, and this is the building referred to by S. Lady Jane Grey was here proclaimed queen in 1553; and Anne, "Dorset, Pembroke, and Montgomery," afterwards lived here while her husband was residing at the Cockpit in Whitehall. The mansion was de- stroyed in the Great Fire of 1666.* * H., Lawson, and others follow Steevens in saying that the mansion was "pulled down," and they seem to suppose that it was the original "castle" of the Conqueror's time which was occupied by Richard. ACT III. SCENE r. 217 BAYNARD'S CASTLE. 102-104. These lines are not in the quartos. Doctor Shaw was brother to the Lord Mayor, Edmund Shaw; and Eriar Penker was a provincial of the Augustine Friars. Both were popular preachers and were em- ployed by Richard to support his claim to the crown. Penker is " Peu- ker " in the ist folio, " Reuker '' in the 2d, and " Beuker " in the 3d and 4th ; corrected by Capell. 105. To take some privy order. For take order — g\YQ orders, see 2 Heji. IV. p. 177 or 0th. p. 206. Cf. iv. 2. 52 below. 106. The brats of Clarence. These were Edward Earl of Warwick, who was beheaded by Henry VII. in 1499, and Margaret, afterwards the wite of Sir Richard Pole, the last princess of the House of Lancaster. She was put to death at the age of seventy by Henry VIII. In 1540 (Malone). 107. Manner person. The reading of the 3d and 4th quartos and the folios ; the other quartos have '^ manner of person." Maniter person was un idiom of the time, and S. may have used it here. Cf. Rev. xviii. 12. 2i8 A^OTES. Scene VI. — Ejiter a Scrivener. A scrivener was a professional scribe, or writer of legal documents. Cf. T. ofS. iv. 4. 59 : " My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently" (that is, to write the marriage contract). There is hardly a line of this speech in which the quarto and folio read- ings do not differ ; but the variations are not w^orth recording, except per- haps "blind" for the folio bold m 12 (W.). 3. In PcmVs. That is, in Old St. Paul's Cathedral. See 2 Hen, IV, p. 154, and cf. i. 2. 30 above. Lawson takes PauVs here to be " St. Paul's Cross, where a pulpit was erected from which the citizens of London were addressed on important occasions." 7. Precedent. The first draft, from which this copy was engrossed. 9. Untainted. Unaccused. 10. A good world the while. See on ii. 3. 8 above. Gross — di\^\^ stupid ; as in W. T. i. 2. 301, etc. 12. /;/ thought, "That is, in silence, without notice or detection" (Johnson). Scene VII. — i. How now, how 7ww ? The quartos have " How now, my lord V 5. Contract. The noun is accented by S. on either syllable, the verb only on the second. Lady Lticy was Elizabeth Lucy, the daughter of one Wyat, and the wife of one Lucy, who had been a mistress of the king before his marriage. In order to prevent this marriage, his mother alleged that there was a con- tract between him and dame Lucy ; but on being sworn to speak the truth she declared that the king had not been affianced to her, though she ad- mitted his intimacy with her (Malone). 12. Pifer, See on iii. 5. 74 above. 13. Idea, Image ; as in Much Ado, iv. I. 226, and L. L. L. iv. 2. 69, the only other instances of the word in S. 24. They spake not a word. These words are not in the quartos. 25. Statnas. The word is " statues " in all the early eds. ; but as the Latin form of the word was in use in the poet's time, the majority of the editors follow Reed and SteSvens in adopting it here. See also J, C. p. 152, note on She dream'd to-night she sazv my statiia. Breathing is the reading of the ist and 2d quartos and the folios ; the other quartos have "breathlesse." Rowe substituted " unbreathing;" but the meaning obviously is, they were silent as statues though they had breath and might have spoken (Malone). 30. Recorder. According to Walker the accent is on the first syllable, but this is doubtful. See Gr. 492. 37. And thus, etc. This line is not in the quartos. Vantage — 2,^-s!2l\\' tage ; as in i. 3. 310 above and v. 2. 22, v. 3. 15 below. 42, 43. What tongueless blocks, etc. Between these two lines the quartos insert ^^Buck, No, by my troth, my lord." 44. Intend, Pretend. See on iii. 5. 8 above. 48. Ground , , . descant. These are musical terms : the former signify- ing the "plain-song" or theme; the latter, the adding of other parts thereto. W., in a note on T. G. of V. i. 2. 94, quotes Morley, Plaine and ACT III. SCENE VII 219 Easie Introduction to Practical Musicke, 1597 : "when a man talkcth of a descanter it must be understood of one that can extempore sing a part upon a playne song;" and Phillips, A^t"Z£/ World of Words : "Descant (in Musick) signifies the Art of Composing in several parts," etc. Florio de- fines Contrapimto as "a counterpoint; also a descant in musicke or sing- ing." The editors generally have followed Malone in explaining descafit as the " variations " on an air ; but, according to W., this kind of musical composition was unknown in the time of S. 50. Answer nay^ and take it. Cf. the old ballad in Percy's Reliqiies : " As maids that know themselves beloved And yieldingly resist ;" and Byron, Do7t Juan : " And saying ' I will ne'er consent,' — consented." 51. And if you plead, etc. " If you speak for them as plausibly as I in my own person, or for my own purposes, shall seem to deny your suit, there is no doubt but we shall bring all to a happy issue" (Steevens). Clarke would refer thevi to " requests," but it seems quite as well to make it = the citizens, as Steevens does. 54. The leads. That is, the flat roof covered with lead. We take it to mean upon the roof, and not "up to the roof, or close under the eaves," as H. explains it. Cf. Cor. ii. i. 227 : " Stalls, bulks, windows Are smother' d up, leads fill'd, and ridges hors'd With variable complexions, all agreeing In earnestness to see him." 56. Withal. "An emphadc form oi with^' (Gr. 196). 71. Love-bed. The quartos have "day-bed" (see T. N'. p. 143), which is retained by some editors. 75. E7igross. Make gross, pamper. 80. Defend. Forbid. Cf. Much Ado, ii. i. 98 : " God defend the lute should be like the case." See also Id. iv. 2. 21, etc. 93. Zealous. Pious, religious. See K. John, p. 148. 98. Ornament. The folios have " ornaments ;" 'corrected by D. This line and the preceding are not in the quartos. To know a holy man. That is, to know him by. For similar ellipsis of the preposition, cf. 0th. i. 3. 91 : " What conjuration and what mighty magic — For such proceeding I am charg'd withal — I won his daughter." See also Gr. 202. III. Disgracious. S. uses the word only here and in iv. 4. 178 below. 117. Majestical. Used by S. oftener than fnajestic. Cf. Ilayn. p. 176. 119. Your state, etc. The line is not in the quartos. 124. Her proper. The reading of the isrt and 2d quartos ; " his " in all the other early eds. In the next line all the quartos have Her, the folios "His." 126. Graft. Not a contraction oi grafted, \iw\. from the verb ^r^j^ for which see A. V. L.p. 171 or 2 Hen. IV. p. 200. On Shakespeare's knowl- edge of gardening, see W. T. p. 190. 127. Shouldered in. Pushed or thrust into. S. uses the verb only here 2 20 XOTES. and in i Hen. VL iv. i. 189: "This shouldering of each other in the court." For /«=into, see on i. 2. 261 above. Some have taken shoulder' d to be = immersed to the shoulders. 129. Reaire. Restore to health. Cf. V, and A, 465 : " A smile recures the wounding of a frown ;" and Sojin. 45. 9 : " Until life's composition be recur'd." So unreairing=-^?i^\. cure, incurable, in T. A. iii. i. 90 ; " Some unrecuring wound." 135. Etjipeiy. Empire. See Hen. V. p. 150. 143-152. If not . . . answer yon. These lines are not in the quartos. 146. Fondly. Unwisely. Ci.fond \\\ iii. 4. 80 above. 154. Unmeritable. " Unmeriting" {Cor. ii. i. 47), devoid of merit; as in J. C. iv. I. 12 : *' a slight unmeritable man." Cf. Gr. 3. 156. And that. And if that, and if. Gr. 285. 157. The ripe revenue, etc. "That which comes to me in right of great- er maturity in age and judgment; Gloster thus comparing his own claims to the crown with those of the young prince his nephew, to whom he after- wards alludes in the words ' royal /W///,' and so continuing the same fig- ure of speech" (Clarke). On the accent of revenue in S., see M. N'. D. p. 125. 165. And much I need^ etc. *' And I want much of the ability requisite to give you help, if help were needed " (Johnson). Clarke believes it also includes the meaning, craftily implied, "And much I ought to help you, if you need help." 167. Stealing. That is, stealing on, moving imperceptibly. 172. Defend. See on 80 above. 174. The respects thereof etc. The considerations or motives that influence vou are over - scrupulous and of little weight. On nice^ cf. z. c. 97 •• ' " And nice affections wavering stood in doubt If best were as it was, or best without." 178. Contract. Contracted, affianced. For the form, see Gr. 342. Cf. acquit in v. 4. 16 below. 180. By substitute. By proxy ; according to the custom of the times. Cf the reference in Longfellow's Belfry of Bruges to the proxy- wedding of the Archduke Maximilian and Marie de Valois in 1477; and see the author's note on the passage. 181. Bona. " Daughter to the Duke of Savoy, and sister to Charlotte, wife to Louis XL King of France " (Malone). 183. A many. A form like a few, but now obsolete. See Hen. V. p. 170. Gr. 87. For so7is the quartos have "children." 188. Declensioii. Decline, degradation. See 2 Hen. IV. p. 165. '''Bigamy, by a canon of the Council of Lyons, A.D. 1274 (adopted in England by a statute in 4 Edward I.), was made unlawful and infamous. It differed from /^/jj'^^zwjj', or having two wives at once; as it consisted in either marrying two virgins successively, or once marrying a widow " (Blackstone). S. uses the word nowhere else. 190. Whom our manners call, etc. Whom by courtesy we call, etc. 192. To some alive. Hinting at the Duchess of York, the mother of Edward and Richard. Cf. iii. 5. 92 above. ACT IV. SCENE L 22 1 201. Refuse not, etc. This line is not in the quartos. 2IO. Effeminate remorse. Feminine pity. Cf. Af.for iM. ii. 2. 54: *• If so your heart were touch'd with that remorse As mine is to him ; ' Id. V. I. 100 : " My sisterly remorse," etc. See also on i. 2. 157 above. 218. Come, citizens, etc. The quartos read : " Come citizens, zounds, He entreat no more. "GA?. O do not sweare my lord of Buckingham." W. remarks : " It is quite probable that the passage was originally writ- ten thus, and that the change was made by Shakespeare because it made Gloster overdo his hypocrisy ; for zounds was a common and venial ex- pletive in Shakespeare's time. If, as Mr. Collier suggests, the zounds was struck out only in consequence of the statute 3 Jac. I., we should restore the reading of the quarto ; for the removal of the quasi oath of course re- quired the removal of the remonstrance." On the omission oi zotuids and similar oaths in the folio, see 0th. p. 11. Exit Bucking/iant, etc. " The proper stage-directions for this passage were first supplied by Mr. Dyce. The quartos have no directions ; the folio, in the careless manner common in old dramatic publications, has ''Exeunt,'' and afterwards, 'Enter Btickingham,and tlie rest."* But clearly, from Catesby's entreaty and Richard's reply, there was an audience left for his hypocrisy " (W.). 220. If you deny them, etc. In the quartos this line is given to another speaker, and reads '^Ano. Do, good my lord, lest all the land do rue it." 227. Whether. The folio has "where," and some follow Steevens in reading "whe'r." See Gr. 466. 231. Mei-e enforcement. Absolute compulsion. See J. C p. 129 (note on Alerely upon myself) or Te?Hp. p. in (note on We are merely cheated). On ejifo7'cement, cf. A. Y. L. p. 166. Acquittance, Acquit ; the only instance of the verb in wS. 237. KoyaL The quartos have " kingly," and in the next line " royal " for worthy. There are many such petty variations above which we have not noted. 243. Ajid so, etc. The quartos omit this line. ACT IV. vScENE I. — I. Niece. IIere::2=granddaughter. So ;/^///^7£/=: grandchild [0th. i. I. 112) and cousin (i Hen. VI. ii. 5. 64 and T. and C. i. 2. 13). See also on cousin, ii. 2. 8 above. 2-6. Led . . . day. These lines are not in the quartos. 5. God give, Qic. Malone remarks of this reappearance of Anne: "We have not seen this lady since the second scene of the first act, in which she promised to meet Richard at Crosby Place. She was married about the year 1472." The portrait of Anne is from the Warwick Roll in the Heralds' College. It " presents us with the peculiar head-dress character- izing this period, namely a cap or caul of gold embroidery, covered by a 222 NOTES. veil of some very transparent material, stiffened out in the form of wings ' (K.). QUEEN ANNE. 9. Like . , . as, Cf. T.and C. prol. 25 : " In like conditions as our ar- gument," etc. 10. Graitilate. Congratulate, greet. Cf. T, A. i. i. 221 : "And gratu- late his safe return to Rome ;" and T. of A. i. 2. 131 : " To gratulate thy plenteous bosom." 14. How doih^ etc. The line in the quartos is simply ** How fares the Prince ?" 15. Patience. A trisyllable ; as in i. 3. 248 above. See also i Hen, IV, pp. 153. 175. 18. The king^ etc. The quarto reading is : "^. Eliz. The king! why, who's that? ' Brak. I cry you mercy: I mean the lord protector." 20. Between. The quartos have " betwixt," and in the next line " should keep " for shall bar. There are many such trifling variations in the re- mainder of the scene. 24. Sights. For the plural cf. Rich. II. iv. I. 314 : " Whither you will, so I were from your sights ;" and see note in our ed. p. 206. The quar- tos have simply "Then feare not thou." 26. Leave it. " That is, resign my office " (Johnson). ACT IF. SCENE I. 223 35. Dead-killing, Cf. R. of L, 540: "a cockatrice' dead-killing eye." We have " kill her dead " in M. N. D. iii. 2. 269. Cf. Ham. iii. 2. 194, 36. Despiteful, etc. The line is not in the quartos. 45. Thi'all. Slave ; as in Soiin. 154. 12 : "I, my mistress' thrall," etc. See also Macb. p. 225. 49. My son. That is, son to Margaret, Countess of Richmond, whose third husband Stanley was. 55. Whose iinavoided eye, etc. See on i. 2. 152 above, and cf. the quota- tion in note on 35 just above. ^%. Inclnsive verge. Enclosing circle. Qi. Rich. II.\\. I. 102: " incaged in so small a verge " (that is, the crown, as here). 60. Red-hot steel. Steevens sees here an allusion to the ancient mode of punishing a regicide by placing a red-hot iron crown on his head. Cf. Goldsmith, Traveller, 436 : " Luke's iron crown ;" and see our ed. p. 121. 65. No I why ? The why is not in the quartos. W. prints " No why ?" which he explains as = " Why not ?" For ''No had.^" and similar in- stances oi no with a verb, see IC. John, p. 167 ; but we are not aware of any examples of such use of the negative with why, etc. 74. If any be so ?nad. That is, so mad as to become thy wife. 75. Life. The quartos have " death," 79. Honey. Often used by S. as an adjective ; as in V. and A. 16, Sonn. 65. 5, Temp. iv. i. 79, etc. See also R. and J. p. 177, note on Honey nurse, Hojieyed occ\.\x?> only \\\ Hen. V.\. i. 50. 82. Hour. A dissyllable ; as in v. 3. 31 below. Gr. 480. 83. The golden deiv of sleep. Cf. J. C. ii. I. 230 : " the honey-heavy dew of slumber." 84. His timorous dreams. '' Not only is this characteristic touch con- firmed by historical accounts of Richard's disturbed nights, but the dram- atist has given it consistency and forcible effect of climax by the impres- sive picture presented to our sight in the waking words uttered by this guilt-burdened soul in starting from sleep in v. 3 " (Clarke). 91. Go thou, etc. The 2d folio reads : ''^ Due. Yorke. Goto Richmond, to Dorset, to Anne, to the Queene, and good fortune guide thee," etc. In the margin of the ist folio, from which the 2d was printed, some one had evidently inserted the stage-directions " to Dorset," " to /Vnne," and *' to the Queene," which the printer took to be additions to the text. The- error is repeated in the 3d folio, but corrected in the 4th (Camb. ed.). 95. Eighty odd years, etc. Malone remarks : " Shakespeare has here, I believe, spoken at random. The present scene is in 1483. Richard, Duke of York, the husband of this lady, had he then been living, would have been but seventy-three years old, and we may reasonably suppose that his Duchess was younger than he was. Nor did she go speedily to her grave. She lived till 1495." 96. Tee7i. Sorrow. See R. and J. p. 150 or Temp. p. 113. 97-103. Stay yet . . .farewell. These lines are not in the quartos. loi. Nurse . . . playfellow. Johnson remarks: ''To call the Tower ■ nurse and playfellozv is very harsh : perhaps part of the speech is ad- dressed to the Tower and part to the Lieutenant." Malone replies that S. was only thinking of the children as ''being constrained to carry on 2 24 NOTES. their daily pastime and to receive their daily nutriment within its walls, and hence, with his usual licentiousness of metaphor, calls the edifice itself their playfellow and nurse." Neither of the critics seems to havvi appreciated the maternal pathos and poetry of the passage. It is not Shakespeare who speaks, but the mother, whose heart bleeds at tlie thought of the rough exchange for cradle and nurse and playfellow that is given them in these ancient stones. How can any one read the lines, and not have all the mother come into his eyes {Hen. V. iv. 6. 31), as it did into the poet's heart and pen ! And yet Monk Mason says that " the last line of the speech proves that the whole of it is address'd to the Tower, and apologizes for the absurdity of that address by attributing it to sorrow" (the italics are ours). When will three such critics meet agani on one " Variorum " page t Scene II. — 8. Touch. Touchstone. ohun, Earl of Hereford. The keep, which is now the chief remnant of it, is called Ely Tower from having been the prison of the Bishop of Ely who figures in this play ; and here the mar- riage between the Earl of Richmond and Elizabeth, daughter of Edward IV., was first planned. The castle and the walls of the town of Brecon (or Brecknock) were destroyed by the inhabitants during the Civil War, to avoid the expense of maintaining and defending them. Scene III. — i. Act. The quartos have "deed," and "act" for deed\\\ the next line. 5. This piece of rnthful butchery. The ist and 2d quartos have "ruth- less piece of;" the later quartos " ruthfuU piece of." For rtithfid—'^ii^- ous, cf. 3 Hen. VI. ii. 5. 95 : " these ruthful deeds ;" and T. and C. v. 3. 48: "ruthful work." So pitiful is used in the double sense of compas- sionate and exciting compassion. In like manner, as W. remarks, " we now say, w'ith the same force, either a shameful deed or a shameless deed ; in one instance meaning that the act causes shame in the observer — in the other, that it shows a lack of shame in the performer. So the sam.e act may be characterized as pitiful, sorrowful, ruthful, or pitiless, sorrow- less, ruthless." 6. Flesh' d. Cruel, hardened. Cf. Heji. V. iii.3. 11 : "the flesh'd sol- dier, rough and hard of heart." II. Alabaster innocent. The quartos have "innocent alabaster," and in 13 " Which " for And. 14. Prayers. A dissyllable ; as in iii. 7. 97 above. 18. Replenished. Complete, consummate ; as in W. T. ii. I. 79: "The most replenish'd villain in the world." 19. Prime. First; as in Hen. VIII. m. 2. 162: "The prime man of the state." In the same play we find the comparative /;7>>'/^r (i. 2.67) and the superlative pr invest (ii. 4. 229). ACT IV, SCENE IV, 227 20. Hence both, etc. The 1st and 2d quartos have '''Thus both," etc. ; the other quartos omit the line. Schmidt makes ^c?;/^ w///i— overcome with ; as in Rich. II. ii. I. 184: "York is too far gone with grief;" but, with the folio \.^x\.,gone may as naturally be joindtl with hence. ]. H. ex- plains hence as=hereupon. On remorse, cf i. 4. 107 and iii. 7. 210 above. 22. This tidings. S. makes tidings (like news) either singular or plural. See R. and J. p. 195. 30. But 2vherey^ic. The quartos read "But how or in what place I do not know." The " Bloody Tower " (see p. 164) is now pointed out as the scene of the murder of the princes ; but there is no proof that it occurred there, and previous to the reign of Elizabeth the place was called the " Garden Tower," because it adjoined what was then the constable's gar- den. A very old tradition, however, marks the angle at the right of the gate seen in the cut as the place of the hasty burial of the ])rinces by Dighton and Forrest. According to the old historians, they were subse- quently interred elsewhere by a priest under the direction of Brakenbury. In 1674 some bones were found under a staircase in the White Tower (as an inscription now records) which were buried by Charles II. in West- minster Abbey as those of the murdered princes. They were found in a wooden chest some ten feet under ground. 31. Soon, and after snpper. The quartos have "soon at after supper." Clarke gives "soon at after-supper." For aftcr-snpper, see 2 Hen. IV. pp. 166, 2CO. 37. Matched in marriage. To Sir Richard Pole, by whom she had a son who afterwards became Cardinal Pole. See on iii. 5. 106 above. 40. For. Because, since. See on i. i. 58 above. The Breton Richmond. He calls Richmond so because after the bat- tle of Tewksbury he had taken refuge in the court of Francis II., Duke of Bretagne (Malone). 46. Mortoii. The Bishop of Ely. See on iii. 4. 31 above. 47. With. By ; as often. Gr. 193. 51. Tea rfn I commenting, etc. "Timorous thought and cautious disqui- sition are the dull attendants on delay" (Johnson). Fory^^/7y?//=ifull of fear, cf iv. 2. 121 above, and iv. 4. 313, v. i. 18, and v. 3. 182 below. 55. Mercnry. Cf ii. I. 88 above. 56. My counsel is my shield. That is, action, and not deliberation, shall be my policy. Scene IV. — 5. Induction. See on i. I. 32 above. 8. Withdraiv thee, wretched Margaret, etc. Verplanck remarks : " In this scene we take leave of Margaret of Anjou, that 'she-w^olf of France,' who has been almost as much the presiding evil genius of the last two parts of Henry VI. as Richard is of this. Mrs. Jameson, who was led to a partial adoption of Malone's opinion on the three parts oi Henry VI., not so much from his argument as from their appearing to her to ' have less of poetry and passion, and more of unnecessary verbiage and inflated language, than the rest of Shakespeare's plays,' finds an additional and original argument in the character of Queen Margaret. Her criticism on the style is just, but she would hardly have drawn her inference from it 228 NOTES. if she had been aware that the evidence shows these to be the produc- tions of the immature and unpractised Shakespeare, beginning to form for himself and his cojimtry the historic drama. Her other argument, which she considers ' the most conclusive of all to those who have stud- ied Shakespeare in his own spirit,' is thus stated : * Margaret, as exhib- ited in these tragedies, is a dramatic portrait of considerable truth and vigour and consistency ; but she is not one of Shakespeare's women. He who knew so well in what true greatness of spirit consisted — who could excite our respect and sympathy, even for a Lady Macbeth, would never have given us a heroine without a touch of heroism ; he would not have portrayed a high-hearted woman struggling unsubdued against the strangest vicissitudes of fortune ; meeting reverses and disasters, such as would have broken the most masculine spirit, with unbroken constancy — yet left her without a single personal quality which would excite our interest in her bravely endured misfortunes ; and this in the very face of history. He would not have given us, in lieu of the magnanimous queen, a mere "Amazonian trull," with every coarser feature of depravity and ferocity ; he would have redeemed her from unmingled detestation ; he would have breathed into her some of his own sweet spirit ; he would have given the woman a soul.' ''Now, as we here find that, in Richard I 11.^ all these characteristics of Margaret are adopted and recapitulated, it is clear that this argument against the character being Shakespeare's destroys itself by proving too much ; for it would prove that this play too is by some other hand than his, which no one can assert, in the wildest mood of critical conjecture. Shakespeare might certainly have given a higher and more heroic cast to Margaret of Anjou ; but the truth evidently is, that having, partly from the intimation of the chroniclers, very probably (as Courteiiay sug- gests) from uncontradicted and universally believed tradition, adopted, in spite of his imputed Lancastrian prejudices, this view of Margaret's fe- rocity, cruelty, and conjugal infidelity, he must have seen that he could not breathe into such a personage 'his own sweet spirit,' any more than into Goneril, Regan, or the queen of Cyvibeline^ and therefore placed her in bold and unmitigated contrast to the mild virtues of the 'holy Henry.' The comparison of Margaret with Lady Macbeth suggests a deep moral truth, which must have been in the poet's mind, though he has not em- bodied it in formal moral declamation. Our interest in Lady Macbeth is kept up, in spite of her crimes, by her unflagging and devoted attachment to her husband, and their mutual and touching confidence and solace in each other, even in guilt as well as in sorrow. Margaret has no com- munion with Henry's heart ; she scorns him, and her affections roam elsewhere. That last redeeming virtue of woman being lost, Margaret has nothing left but her talent and courage ; and those qualities alone cannot impart the respect and sympathy which we continue to feel for the guilty but nobler wife of Macbeth." lo. Unbloiv7t. The 1st folio has "vnblowed," for which the composi- tor is doubtless responsible. 15. Right for right. Retributive justice. Cf. 141 below. V. remarks: "In i, 3. Margaret was reproached with the murder of young Rutland, ACT IV. SCENE IV. 229 and the death of her husband and son were imputed to divine vengeance roused by that wicked act. ' wSo just is God to right the innocent.' Mar- garet now means to say, 'The right of me, an injured mother, whose son was slain at Tewksbury, has now operated as powerfully as that right which the death of Rutland gave you to divine justice, and has destroyed your children in their turn.' " 20. Quit. " Here used to express comprehensively 'requite the death of and 'acquit the crime of " (Clarke). See Rich. II. p. 208 or Harn. p. 269. 23. /;/. See on i. 2. 261 above. 24. W}ie7i didst, etc. When ere now didst, etc. The editor of the 2d folio, not seeing the meaning, changed WheJi to " Why." 28. Record, For the accent, see on iii. i. 72 above. 35. Ancient. Old, long-standing. See on iii. i. 182 above. Reverent. Reverend. The two words are used indiscriminately in the early eds. 36. Seniory. Seniority. In the early eds. it is spelt "signorie," "sign- iorie," "signeurie," "signeury," etc. 41. Harry. The quartos have "Richard" and the folios "husband." Harry is the reading of the Camb. editors, and seems preferable to Cap- ell's conjecture of " Henry," which is generally adopted. W. retains " husband." 45. Holp'st. See on i. 2. 108 above. 47. Fro7n forth the keiDiel^ etc. Apparently an allusion to the myth of Scylla. 49. That had his teeth, etc. See on ii. 4. 28 above. 52, 53. That excellent, etc. These two lines are not in the quartos, and are accidentally transposed in the folios. Capell corrected the arrange- ment. Excelle?it=-^XQ-Qm.\\\Q\\t. Cf. A. and C.i. i. 40 : " Excellent false- hood!" 53. Galled eyes. Cf. /lam. i. 2, 155 : "her galled eyes ;" and T. and C. V. 3. 55 : "Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears." 56. Carnal, Bloodthirsty. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 5. 133: "the wild dog Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent." 58. Peiv-fello7v. Companion. Steevens cites, among other contempo- raneous instances of the word, Dekker and Webster's A'^orthward Hoe^ 1607 : " He would make him pue-fellow with a lord's steward at the least.'' 65. Boot, Something given to boot (cf. T. and C. iv. 5. 40), or into the bargain. 69. Adulterate. Used by S. oftener than adulterous. See Ham. p. 195. 71. Intelligencer. Agent. See 2 Hen. IV. p. 184. 72. Their. Hell \^ here personified as plural, as heaven is in several instances. See Rich. II. p. 157, note on 7yiey see. 76. From hence. The quartos have " away." 77. Cancel his bond of life. For the metaphor, cf Macb. iii. 2. 49 : "Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond That keeps me pale;" and Cymb. v. 4. 27 : 230 NOTES. "take this life, And cancel these cold bonds." 8i. Bottled spider. See on i. 3. 242 above. 84. Presentatioji. Show, semblance ; as in A. K Z. v. 4. 1 12 : " He uses his tolly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit." 85. Index. Prelude. See on ii. 2. 148 above. Here it means either the spoken prologue or, as Steevens makes it, the printed programme, of a pageant or dumb-show. Schmidt suggests that the pageants " were perhaps introduced and explained by painted emblems;" or, as others suppose, a painted cloth was hung up outside as an advertisement of the show. Y ox pageant in this sense, cf. Temp. iv. i. 155, M. A"". D. iii. 2. 114, A. V. L. ii. 7. 138, iii. 4. 55, etc. 86. A -high. On high. Gr. 24. 88-90. A dream . . . a bubble. The quartos read : "A dreame of which thou wert, a breath, a bubble, A signe of dignitie, a garish flagge, To be the aime of euery dangeious shot." ¥o\- ga7-ish=g2iudy^ bright, see R. and J. p. 186, note on The garish sun. In the last line there is an allusion "to the dangerous situation of those to whose care the standards of armies were intrusted " (Steevens). 91. Sce7ie. Used in the theatrical sense ; as in 27 above. See also ii. 2. -Ty^ above. 92. Where be^ etc. This use oi be is "especially frequent in questions of appeal " (Gr. 299). 97. Decline all this. That is, run through all this from first to last ; as in declining^ or giving the cases of a noun, in grammar (Malone). Cf T. and C. ii. 3. 55 : "I '11 decline the whole question." The word is used in the literal sense in M. W.'w. i. 42. 100. For one being sued to^ etc. The quartos transpose this line and the next. loi. Caitiff. For the feminine use, cf A. IF. iii. 2. 117 and 0th. iv. i. 109. See dth. p. 197. 103. Tor one being fear d^ etc. This line is not in the quartos, which transpose 102 and 104. In 102, 103, and 104, the folios misprint "she" for one. 105. WheeVd. The quarto reading; the folios have " whirl'd." 112. Wearied head. The quartos have " weary (" wearied " in 6th, 7th, and 8th) necke." 120. Sweeter. The quartos have "fairer," and in %'] above "sweet" {ox fair. W. remarks : "This double change in counterpart could not have been accidental ; and, indeed, it is far more natural and touching lu use fair in the mere descriptive allusion to the babes, and sweet in de- scribing a mother's memory of them." 122. Bettering. Magnifying. Some eds. print "bad-causer." 127. Windy attorneys, etc. " Meaning that words are but breathing ex- ponents of grief, nre but successors to joy that is dead and that has died without a will, bequeathing nothing" (Clarke). ACT IV. SCENE IV. 231 128. Intestate. The ft)lios misprint "intestine." 135. The trumpet sounds. The quartos read '* I hear his drum." For exclaims^ see on i. 2. 52 above. 141. Branded. The quartos have "graven." 142. Owed. Ovi^ned, was rightful possessor of. See K. yokn, pp. 141, 145- 149. A flourish^ etc. See p. 26 above. 152. Entreat. Treat; as elsewhere \s\\\-\ fair ox fairly. See Rich. II. iii. I. 37, 3 Hen. VI. \. i. 271, T. and C. iv. 4. 115, etc. 157. Impatience. A quadrisyllable. Cf. patience in i. 3, 248 and iv. I. 15 above. 158. Cjndition. Disposition, temper. See Hen. V. pp. 183, 186. 160. (9, let^ etc. The two speeches in this line are not in the quartos. 166. Rood. Cross. See on iii. 2. 75 above. 169. Tetchy. Touchy, fretful. Cf. T. and C. \. 1.99: "And he's as tetchy to be wooed to woo ;" and R. and J. i. 3. 32 : " To see it tetchy," etc. 172. Thy age confir77i\i. Thy riper age. 173. More 7niidy etc. The line is not in the quartos. Ki7id i7i hat7'ed. Cf. what More says (p. 168 above) : " outwardly com- paniable where he inwardly hated," etc. 175. Grac\i 7ne. Blessed me, made me happy (Johnson). 176. Hu7nphrey Hour. The critics have been in doubt whether this is the name of some person not mentioned by the chroniclers, or a cant personification of the breakfast hour ; but it is probably the latter. Cf. the use of" Tom Troth " for troth or t7-uth. Steevens quotes The Wit of a. Wo77ia7i^ 1604: " Gentlemen, time makes us brief: our old mistress, Houre, is at hand." He thinks there may be also an allusion to the old proverbial phrase of "dining with Duke Humphrey;" which is said to have originated in the fact that one of the aisles in St. Paul's Cathedral, called Duke Humphrey's Walk, was a place where those who had no means of getting a dinner used to loiter during the usual hour of the meal, as if detained by some business. Cf. Gabriel Harvey's Foure Let- ters, ^\.q,.^ 1592 : "to seeke his dinner in Poules with Duke Humphrey: to licke dishes, to be a beggar ;" and Nash, Wo}ide7ful Prognostication^ etc., 1591 : "Sundry fellowes in their silkes shall be appointed to keepe duke Humfrye company in Poules, because they know not where to get their dinners abroad." Duke Humphrey was buried at St. Albans, but, according to Stowe, there was in St. Paul's "a fair monument" to Sir John Bewcampe [Beauchamp], who died in 1358, and who "is by igno- rant people misnamed to be Humphrey Duke of Gloster." 177. Forth of Out of, away from. See on i. 3. 337 above; and cf. Gr. 156, 165. 178. Disgracious. See on iii. 7. ill above. For eye the quartos have "sight." 179. A7id 7iot offe7id, etc. The quartos read : "and not offend your grace. ^^ Duch. O heare me speake for I shal neuer see thee more. ''"King. Come, come, you are too bitter." 232 NOTES. 183. So. Often used to express acquiescence or approbation r= well. Cf. ii. I. I above. 185. Turn. Return. See A. V. L. p. 169. 186. Extreme. For the accent, see on iii. 5. 43 above. 190. Complete. Accented on the first syllable when it immediately pre- cedes the noun, but not in the predicate (Schmidt). See Ham. p. 194. \<^\. Prayers. A dissyllable. See on iv. 3. 14 above. For/rt-r/y^part, side, see on iii. 2. 47 above. 193. Whisper. For the transitive use, cf. Much Ado^ iii. 1.4, W. T. i. 2. 437, IV. 4. 827, etc. 196. Serves. Waits upon, attends. 203. Level. Aim ; a technical use of the word. Cf. Ahich Ado^ iv. i. 239: "But if all aim but this be levell'd false;" 2 ^^;/. /r. iii. 2. 286 : *' the foeman may with as great aim level at the edge of a penknife," etc. 205. Gi'acious. A trisyllable. See on 157 above. 212. A royal princess. The quartos have " of royal blood." 218. Unavoided. Unavoidable; as in Rich. II. ii. I. 268: "And un- avoided is the danger now ;" and i Hen. VI. iv. 5. 8 : " A terrible and un- avoided danger." The only instance of the ordinary sense in S. is iv. i. 55 above. 222-235. You speak . . . bosom. These lines are not in the quartos. 226. All indirectly gave direction. Cf Hai7i. ii. I. 66 : " By indirections find directions out ;" and K. John^ iii. i. 276: " though indirect, Yet indirection thereby grows direct." ' 228. Till it 2uas whetted, etc. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 5. 108 : "Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts, Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart ;" and M. of V. iv. i. 123 : "Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew, Thou mak'st thy knife keen." 230. Still. Continual, constant. Cf. the use of the adverb in still- lasting, 346 below. 232. My nails, etc. Cf. M. N. D. iii. 2. 298 : "I am not yet so low But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes;'' and 2 Hen. VI. i. 3. 144: " Could I come near your beauty with my nails, I 'd set my ten commandments in your fece." In the latter case it is a duchess, as here a queen, that speaks. " Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis." 237. Dangerous success. Doubtful issue. The quartos have "danger- ous attempt of hostile armes " (cf. 400 below). For success, cf. T. and C, ^•3' 340- "for the success, Ahhough particular, shall give a scantling Of good or bad unto the general ;" ACT IV. SCENE IV. 233 Id. \\.i 117: " Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause," etc. Some make j-z/rr^i-i-— succession (see W. T. p. 161). 245. Type. Badge, sign ; not "exhibition, show, display," as Johnson explained it. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. i. 4. 121 : " Thy father bears the type of King of Naples " (that is, the crown). 248. Demise. Bequeath, grant ; the only instance of the word in S. The 2d folio has "devise." 251. LetJie. For other allusions to the river of oblivion, see Ham. p. 195. 259. Fnwi. The queen plays upon the sense of" a^Yay from " (Gr. 158) which the preposition often had. See T. N. p. 130. 276. Sometime. Once. Cf. Cymb. v. 5. 333 : " that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd," etc. On the passage, cf i. 3. 174 fol. above. See also 3 Hen. VI. i. 4. 79 fol. 278, 279. IVhic/i, say to her . . . brothers'' bodies. This is not in the quartos. The folios have "brothers body ;" corrected by Warb. 280. Wipe . . . withal. The quartos have "dry . . . therewith," and in 282 "story . . . acts " for letter . . . deeds. We give only occasional sam- ples of these little variations in the two texts. 290-o44- Say . . . years? This is the longest of the passages found in the folios, but not in the quartos. See p. 10 above. 299. Quicken. Give life to; as in Temp. iii. i. 6: "quickens what 's dead," etc. Cf. the play on qnick in 363 below, and see also on i. 2. 65 above. 304. Mettle. The ist and 2d folios have " mettall," the 3d "mettle," the 4th " metal." The early eds. use metal and mettle without regard to the meaning. See Rich. II. p. 157. 306. Bid. Bore, endured ; the past tense oi bide (Johnson and Schmidt). Cf. T. N. ii. 4. 97 : " There is no woman's sides Can bide the beating of so strong a passion," etc. 313. Fearful. Full of fear. See on i. i. 11 above. 324. Orient pearl. Cf M. N. D. iv. I. 59, A. and C. i. 5. 41, V. and A. 981, and F. P. 133. 325. Advantajrijicr, Increasing. For the verb, cf. Temp. \. 1.34, T. N'. iv. 2. 119, y. C. iii. I. 242, etc. The folio misprints " Loue " for loan. 338. Victress. The spelling of the 4th folio ; the earlier folios have " victoresse." It is the only instance of the word in S. 339. Were I best ? Would it be best for me } See on i. i. 100 above. 345. Infer. See on iii. 5. 74 above. 346. Still-lasting. Everlasting. See on 230 above. The hyphen is not in the early eds. and might perhaps be omitted. 348. Which the king's King forbids. Alluding to Lev. xviii. 14. 350. Wail. The quarto reading ; the folios misprint " vaile " or "vail." 356. Likes of it. Likes it. Cf. Much Ado^ v. 4. 59 : "I am your hus- band, if you like of me," etc. For the form oi likes and lengthens in 355, see Gr. 336. 363. Quick. Hasty. In her reply the queen plays on the other sense oi quick — X\M\wg. Cf. the quibble in L. L. L. v. 2. 687. 234 NOTES. 368. My George. The medallion with the figure of St. George on horseback, which was part of the insignia of the Knights of the Garter. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. iv. i. 29 : " Look on my George ; I am a gentleman." 371. His. Its ; as in the two following lines. Gr. 228. 376-378. Then by ?nyseif, etc. In the quartos the order of the oaths is : A'cTlv by the worlds My father' s deaths Then by myself. 380-389. If thou hadst fear\i, etc. This passage is evidently corrupt in both the folio and the quarto texts, which we give below, indicating by italics (as W. does) the words in which they differ. The folio reads : •' If thou didd- st feare to breake an Oath with him, The vnity the King my husbajid made, Thou had' st not broken, nor my Brothers died. If thou had' St feard to breake an oath by him, Th' Imperiall mettall, circling now thy head., Had grac'd the tender temples of my Child, And both the Princes had bene breathing heere. Which now two tender ^^^-lellowes for dust. Thy broken Faidi hath made tJie prey for Wormes. What can st thou sweare by now.''' The quarto reads thus : " If thou hadst feard to breake an oath by him, The vnitie the king my brother made. Had not beene broken, nor my brother slaine. If thou hadst feard to breake an oatli by him The emperiall mettel circling now thy brow, Had grast the tender temples of my childe. And both the princes had beene breathing here, Which now two tender //^jj^-fellowesy^r dust, Thy broken faith hath made a praye for wormes." 392. Hereafter. Used adjectively ; as in i Hen. VI. ii. 2. 10 : "here- after ages." 394. Ungoveni'd. That is, left with no one to govern or guide them. 398. Overpast, The folio has "repast," the first letter of "ore-past" (its reading in 390 above) having been accidentally dropped. 404. Opposite. Opposed, adverse ; as in 216 above. S. mentions //. v. 3. 48, etc. On the passage, see p. 28 above. 68. Melancholy. "Richard calls him w^Ar/zr/z^/y because he did not join heartily in his cause" (Malone). Cf. 2 above. 69. Cock-sJiiit time. Twilight. A cock-shut was a kind of net used for catching woodcocks, and was generally set in the dusk of the evening. Steevens quotes Arden of Fever sham, 1592 : " In the twilight, cock-shut light ;" and The Widow, 1652 : "a fine cock-shut evening." 240 NOTES, 72. So. See on iv. 4.. 183 above. 73. / have not^ etc. See p. 179 above. 75. Is ink and paper i-eady ? For the question and reply, cf. iii. 4. 4, 5 above. 77. Bid my gitai'd ivatch. If this is not the order for the guard (see on 63 above), it is a message to the guard that would be set at the royal tent as a matter of course, admonishing them to be vigilant. 83. Lovi?ig. The reading of the ist and 2d quartos ; the other early eds. have " noble," which is doubtless the compositor's accidental repe- tition of the same word just above. 87. Flaky. "Scattering like flakes" (Schmidt). 91. Mortal-staring. " Having a deadly stare, grim-looking " (Schmidt). Cf. "grim-visag'd" in i. i. 9 above. Perhaps, as Clarke suggests, the word "includes the effect of War staring or glaring fatally upon its vic- tims, and their deadly stare when killed." It is infinitely better than any of the "emendations" that have been proposed; like "mortal-fearing," "mortal-scaring," "mortal-staving," "mortal-stabbing," "mortal-dar- ing," etc. 93. With best advantage^ etc. " I will take the best opportunity to elude the dangers of this conjuncture " (Johnson). 98. Leisure. That is, want of leisure. Qi. Rich. II. i. i. 5 : "Which then our leisure would not let us hear." See also 239 below. 105. With troubled thoughts. The folios have "troubled with noise," which W. prefers on the ground that " if S. at fivsiwYoit troubled thot/ghts^ which is possible, he seems to have remembered, on the revision of the play, that he had represented Richmond as entirely untroubled in mind, and sure of victory from the time when he first appears upon the scene." But troubled thoughts need not imply anything more than being " careful and troubled about many things," as a general, however confident of vic- tory, must be on the eve of a decisive battle. 106. Peize. Weigh. See A". y(?/^;/, p. 151. III. Bruising irons. J. H. quotes Ps. ii. 9 (Prayer-Book version): "Thou shalt bruise them with a rod of iron." For /;w/>f=weapons, cf T.-iind C. ii. 3. 18 : " drawing their massy irons," etc. fi7. Windows. That is, the eyelids. See R. and J. p. 172, note on Grey eye. Cf. also R. and J. iv. i. 100 : " thy eyes' windows Fall like death," etc. 125. My anointed body. Cf. Lear^ iii. 7. 58 : "his anointed flesh," etc. See also iv. 4. 151 above. 126. Punched. The word (which S. uses nowhere else) seems undig- nified now; but Steevens cites Chapman, ///(7<3', vi. : "with a goad he punch'd each furious dame." Deadly is found only in the ist quarto. 133. Fulsome. " Rich, cloyingly sweet " (Clarke), as malmsey is. Stee- vens says that S. "seems to have forgot himself," as Clarence was killed before being thrown into the malmsey-butt. But see i. 4. 263 above, which implies that the murderers trusted to the drowning to complete their work. 136. Fall. Let fall. See on i. 3. 353 above, and cf. iv. 2. 65. 144. Let fall thy lance. To fill the measure, Capell gave " hurtless lance," and the Coll. MS. has "pointless lance." ACT V. SCENE IIL 24 1 147. The Ghost of Hastings appears. In the ist and 2d quartos the ghosts of the young princes come in before the ghost of Hastings. The order in the later eds. is chronological throughout. 153. Lead. The reading of the ist quarto; "laid" in all the other early eds. 157. Annoy. Cf. V. and A. 497: "death's annoy;" Id. 599: "worse than Tantalus' is her annoy," etc. 174. I died for hope, etc. " I died for the hope of lending you aid ere I could lend you aid" (Clarke). The ellipsis is not unlike others in S. Cf. Gr. 382 fol. Hanmer gave "forsook," Steevens conjectured " for- holpe" (=unhelped, deserted), and Tyrwhitt "foredone" (see M. A\ D, p. 18S). D. remarks: "However we are to understand it, the following passage, in Greene's James the Fourth^ seems to determine that it is right : * War will then cease when dead ones are reviv'd ; Some then will yield when I am dead for hope.'" W., after quoting D., says : " In my opinion, the passage has been mis- understood only because explanation has been sought too remotely. Does it not clearly mean, both here and in the passage from Greene, I died to 'lope ? — to andy"^;', as the sign of the dative, having been used almost in- terchangeably. (See, for instance, in Richard's next speech, 'no pity to myself.') Buckingham (as we learn from Hall's Chronicle), without pay or provisions for his soldiers, retarded by deluges of rain, which laid the country waste and made it impassable, was abandoned by his partisans, betrayed by an old servant, and put to death in an obscure country town before he could approach Richmond ; and so he was dead to hope ere he could lend Richmond aid. An examination of the context in Greene's play and of the situation of the speaker — King James — ^justifies a similar interpretation of that passage. The king sees that when his case be- comes hopeless, then war will cease." 181. The lights burn blue. According to ancient superstition, an indi- cation of the presence of a ghost. Steevens quotes Lyly, Galathea, 1592: " My mother would often tell me when the candle burnt blue, there was some ill spirit in the house." For now all the early eds. except the 1st quarto have "not." 194, Sdve7'al. Separate. See on 25 above. 196. High'' St. For the contraction, see on iii. 4. 103 above. 201. There is no creature, etc. See p. 32 above. 205-207. Methought, etc. Johnson suspected that these lines are mis- placed, but was in doubt where they belong. Mason proposed to insert them after 213. W. would put them either after 179 or after 213. The former would be the best place, if any change were called for ; but we agree with Clarke that they are probably where S. meant them to be. "giving emphasis to the vision just beheld, marking vividly its impres- sion on the mind of the speaker, and giving reason for the previous words, 'I myself find in myself no pity to myself^' " It is barely possible, however, that there has been an interpolation here. W. remarks : " Ritson suggested, with much reason, in my judgment — for I had reached the same conclusion before I knew that he had pre- ceded me in it — that the twenty-two lines, from ' What do I fear myself r' 242 NOTES, etc., to ' Find in myself,' etc., inclusive, are not Shakespeare's ; in which case the last three lines quite surely are not transposed, but should fol- low immediately after the first five. The situation is one which a 'star' actor could not patiently see wasted without an effective scene for him ; and Burbadge might have had these twenty-two lines added to his part ; though why not by Shakespeare himself it is difficult to conjecture. But the lines are quite surely very much inferior to the rest of the play, and — what is of more consequence — not in the style in which Shakespeare wrote at any period of his life." 211. Done sahitation. Cf y. C. iv. 2. 5 : "To do you salutation from my master." 213-215. O Ratdiff . . . i?iy lord. These lines are omitted in the folios. 216. Shadows. Mason cited this as evidence that lines 205-207 were addressed to Ratcliff ; but shadows more naturally refers to Richard's fears lest his friends should not prove true ; or, as Mason himself admits, we may "suppose that the idea of shadows is included in what Richard calls 2i fearful dream ?^ 2.2.0. In proof That is, in armour that has been proved, or tested. Cf. Macb. i. 2. 54: "lapp'd in proof;" and see Rich. II. p. 162. 225. Cry viercy. "I cry you mercy." See on i. 3. 235 above. 229. ///. Into. See on i. 2. 261 above. 232. Cried on. Cried out, gave the cry of Cf Ham. v. 2. 375 : "cries on havoc ;" 0th. v. i. 48 : " cries on murther," etc. See Ham. p. 276. 239. Leisn) e. See on 98 above. 244. Richard except. The except may be either the preposition trans- posed (Gr. 203), as Schmidt makes it, or the participle contracted (Gr. 342). 251. Foil. Alluding to the foil or leaf of metal placed behind a trans- parent gem to set it off. A poor or imperfect stone would of course gain most by such a background. Cf // draw our puissance together," etc. For the varying pro- nunciation of the word, see K. John, p. 158. 301. Chiefest. A common superlative in J. d. M. <7/F. ii. 8. 43, A". John, ii. I. 39, Cor. ii. 2. 88, v. 6. 150, Ham. i. 2. 117, etc. 302. This, and Sai?it George to boot! " That is, this is the order of battle which promises success ; and over and above this is the protection of our patron saint" (Johnson). But perhaps to boot—io help, as Hawkins and Malone explain it. Schmidt also thinks this may be the meaning ; as in W. T. i. 2. 80 : " Grace to boot !" which is evidently— God be gracious to us ! God help us ! 304. This found I, etc. See p. 180 above. 306. Dickon. Dick. It is the name of one of the characters in Gam- mer Gurton^s Needle, 1575. A spot on Bos worth Field is still known as ''Dickon's Nook." For bought rt;/ ,^^ .\' ^ .^-^' c- ' '% V^^ 3 ■= > ^ ^^ '% .%' . 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