4.1 Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, the DUCHESS OF YORK,
MARQUESS OF DORSET at one door; ANNE, DUCHESS OF
GLOUCESTER at another door with Clarence’s daughter.

DUCHESS     Who meets us here? My niece Plantagenet
Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester:
Now, for my life, she’s wandering to the Tower,
On pure heart’s love, to greet the tender Prince.
Daughter, well met.
ANNE     God give your Graces both	5
A happy and a joyful time of day.
ELIZABETH
As much to you, good sister; whither away?
ANNE     No farther than the Tower, and as I guess,
Upon the like devotion as yourselves:
To gratulate the gentle Princes there.	10
ELIZABETH     Kind sister, thanks; we’ll enter all together.
Enter BRAKENBURY.
And in good time, here the Lieutenant comes.
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,	15
I may not suffer you to visit them:
The King hath strictly charg’d the contrary.
ELIZABETH     The King! Who’s that?
BRAKENBURY     I mean the Lord Protector.
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’ll bear thy blame,
And take thy office from thee, on my peril.	25
BRAKENBURY     No, madam, no: I may not leave it so.
I am bound by oath; and therefore pardon me. Exit.
Enter STANLEY, EARL OF DERBY.
STANLEY     Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence,
And I’ll salute your Grace of York as mother
And reverend looker-on of two fair queens.	30
[to Anne] Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster,
There to be crowned Richard’s royal 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.	35
ANNE     Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news!
DORSET
Be of good cheer, mother: how fares your Grace?
ELIZABETH     O Dorset, speak not to me; get thee gone.
Death and destruction dogs 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:	45
Nor mother, wife, nor England’s counted Queen.
STANLEY
Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.
[to Dorset] 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 murderous.	55
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 brains.	60
Anointed let me be with deadly venom,
And die ere men can say ‘God save the Queen’.
ELIZABETH     Go, go, poor soul; I envy not thy glory.
To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm.
ANNE     No? Why? When he that is my husband now	65
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	75
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,	80
Which hitherto hath held my 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,	85
And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
ELIZABETH
Poor heart, adieu; I pity thy complaining.
ANNE     No more than with my soul I mourn for yours.
DORSET     Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory.
ANNE     Adieu, poor soul, that tak’st thy leave of it.	90
DUCHESS [to Dorset]
Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee;
[to Anne] Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee;
[to Elizabeth] Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts posess thee;
I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me.
Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen,	95
And each hour’s joy wrack’d with a week of teen.
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,	100
Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow
For tender princes, use my babies well.
So foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell.      Exeunt.

4.2 The trumpets sound a sennet. Enter RICHARD in pomp, crowned; BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, RATCLIFFE, LOVELL with other nobles and a Page.

KING RICHARD Stand all apart. Cousin of Buckingham!
BUCKINGHAM     My gracious sovereign!
KING RICHARD Give me thy hand.
[Here he ascendeth the throne.]      [Sound trumpets.]
Thus high, by thy advice
And thy assistance is King Richard seated.
But shall we wear these glories for a day.	5
Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?
BUCKINGHAM     Still live they, and for ever 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.	10
BUCKINGHAM     Say on, my loving lord.
KING RICHARD
Why, Buckingham, I say I would be King.
BUCKINGHAM
Why so you are, my thrice-renowned lord.
KING RICHARD
Ha, am I King? ’Tis so – but Edward lives.
BUCKINGHAM     True, noble Prince.
KING RICHARD     O bitter consequence,	15
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.
KING 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;	25
I will resolve you herein presently.      Exit.
CATESBY     The King is angry: see, he gnaws his lip.
KING RICHARD [aside]
I will converse with iron-witted fools
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?	35
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 anything.
KING RICHARD What is his name?
PAGE     His name, my lord, is Tyrrel.	40
KING RICHARD
I partly know the man: go call him hither. Exit Page.
[aside] The deep-revolving, witty Buckingham
No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels.
Hath he so long held out with me, untir’d,
And stops he now for breath! Well, be it so.	45
Enter STANLEY, EARL OF DERBY.
How now, Lord Stanley, what’s the news?
STANLEY     Know, my loving lord,
The Marquess Dorset, as I hear, is fled
To Richmond in the parts where he abides.
KING RICHARD
Come hither, Catesby. Rumour it abroad	50
That Anne my wife is very grievous sick;
I will take order for her keeping close.
Enquire me out some mean poor gentleman,
Whom I will marry straight to Clarence’ daughter –
The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.	55
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.
Murder 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.	65
Enter 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,
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,	75
And soon I’ll 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.
[He whispers in his ear.]
There is no more but so: say it is done,
And I will love thee, and prefer thee for it.	80
TYRREL     I will dispatch it straight.      Exit.
Enter BUCKINGHAM.
BUCKINGHAM     My lord, I have consider’d in my mind
The late request that you did sound me in.
KING RICHARD
Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to Richmond.
BUCKINGHAM     I hear the news, my lord.	85
KING RICHARD
Stanley, he is your wife’s son. Well, look unto it.
BUCKINGHAM
My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise,
For which your honour and your faith is pawn’d:
Th’earldom of Hereford, and the moveables
Which you have promised I shall possess.	90
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 demand?
KING RICHARD I do remember me, Henry the Sixth
Did prophesy that Richmond should be King,	95
When Richmond was a little peevish boy.
A king … perhaps … perhaps –
BUCKINGHAM     My lord!
KING RICHARD
How chance the prophet could not, at that time,
Have told me – I being by – that I should kill him?
BUCKINGHAM
My lord, your promise for the earldom –	100
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’.	105
BUCKINGHAM     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.
KING RICHARD Well, but what’s o’clock?	110
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.	115
I am not in the giving vein today.
BUCKINGHAM
May it please you to resolve me in my suit?
KING RICHARD Thou troublest me; I am not in vein.
Exit followed by all save Buckingham.
BUCKINGHAM
And is it thus? Repays he my deep service
With such contempt? Made I him King for this?	120
O let me think on Hastings, and be gone
To Brecknock while my fearful head is on.      Exit.

4.3 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, who I did suborn
To do this piece of ruthless butchery –	5
Albeit they were flesh’d villains, bloody dogs –
Melted with tenderness and mild compassion,
Wept like two children, in their deaths’ sad story.
‘O thus’, quoth Dighton, ‘lay the gentle babes’;
‘Thus, thus’, quoth Forrest, ‘girdling one another	10
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.	15
But O, the Devil – ’There the villain stopp’d,
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	20
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	25
Beget your happiness, be happy then,
For it is done.
KING RICHARD But did’st thou see them dead?
TYRREL     I did, my lord.
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 RICHARD
Come to me, Tyrrel, soon at 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.	35
KING RICHARD
The son of Clarence have I pent up 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 RATCLIFFE.
RATCLIFFE     My lord!
KING RICHARD
Good or bad news, that thou com’st in so bluntly?	45
RATCLIFFE
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.
KING 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.	55
Go muster men. My counsel is my shield.
We must be brief, when traitors brave the field.
Exeunt.

4.4 Enter old QUEEN MARGARET.

MARGARET     So now prosperity begins to mellow,
And drop into the rotten mouth of death.
Here in these confines slily have I lurk’d
To watch the waning of mine enemies.
A dire induction am I witness to,	5
And will to France, hoping the consequence
Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.
Enter DUCHESS OF YORK and QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret: who comes here?
ELIZABETH     Ah, my poor Princes! Ah, my tender babes,
My unblow’d flowers, new-appearing sweets!	10
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.
MARGARET [aside]
Hover about her; say that right for right	15
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?
MARGARET [aside] Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet:	20
Edward, for Edward, pays a dying debt.
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?
MARGARET [aside]
When holy Harry died, and my sweet son.	25
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,
[sitting] Rest thy unrest on England’s lawful earth,
Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood.	30
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.
[sitting] Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but we?
MARGARET     If ancient sorrow be most reverend	35
Give mine the benefit of seigniory,
And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.
If sorrow can admit society,
Tell o’er your woes again by viewing mine.
I had an Edward, till a Richard kill’d him;	40
I had a husband, till a Richard kill’d him:
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.	45
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 excellent grand tyrant of the earth,
That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls;
That foul defacer of God’s handiwork
Thy womb let loose to chase us to our graves.
O upright, just, and true-disposing God!	55
How do I thank thee, that this carnal cur
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
MARGARET     Bear with me: I am hungry for revenge,
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	65
Match’d 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,	75
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.’
ELIZABETH
O, thou didst prophesy the time would come
That I should wish for thee to help me curse	80
That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back’d toad.
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;	85
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
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 are thy two sons? Wherein dost thou joy?
Who sues, and kneels, and says ‘God save the Queen’?
Where be the bending peers that flatter’d thee?	95
Where be the thronging troops that follow’d 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 she that scorn’d at me, now scorn’d of me;
For she being fear’d of all, now fearing one;
For she commanding all, obey’d of none.
Thus hath the course of justice whirl’d about	105
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?	110
Now thy proud neck bears half my burden’d yoke,
From which even here I slip my weary head,
And leave the burden of it all on thee.
Farewell, York’s wife, and Queen of sad mischance;
These English woes shall make me smile in France.	115
ELIZABETH     O thou, well skill’d in curses, stay awhile
And teach me how to curse mine enemies.
MARGARET
Forbear to sleep the nights, and fast the days;
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:
Bettering thy loss makes the bad-causer worse.
Revolving this will teach thee how to curse.
ELIZABETH
My words are dull: O quicken them with thine.
MARGARET
Thy woes will make them sharp and pierce like mine.	125
Exit.
DUCHESS     Why should calamity be full of words?
ELIZABETH     Windy attorneys to their clients’ 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.
The trumpet sounds; be copious in exclaims.	135
Enter KING RICHARD and his train including CATESBY, marching with drums and trumpets.
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.
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 ow’d 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 Clarence,	145
And little Ned Plantagenet his son?
ELIZABETH     Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Grey?
DUCHESS     Where is kind Hastings?
KING 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; alarums.]
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?	155
KING RICHARD
Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself.
DUCHESS     Then patiently hear my impatience.
KING RICHARD
Madam, I have a touch of your condition,
That cannot brook the accent of reproof.
DUCHESS     O let me speak.
KING RICHARD     Do then, but I’ll not hear.	160
DUCHESS     I will be mild and gentle in my words.
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?	165
DUCHESS     No, by the holy Rood, thou know’st it well:
Thou cam’st on earth to make the earth my hell.
A grievous burden was thy birth to me;
Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;
Thy school-days frightful, desp’rate, wild, and furious;	170
Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous;
Thy age confirm’d, 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?	175
KING RICHARD
Faith, none but Humphrey Hower, that call’d your Grace
To breakfast once, forth of my company.
If I be so disgracious in your eye,
Let me march on and not offend you, madam.
Strike up the drum!
DUCHESS     I prithee, hear me speak.	180
KING RICHARD You speak too bitterly.
DUCHESS     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,	185
Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish,
And nevermore behold thy face again.
Therefore, take 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.	195
Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend.
Exit.
ELIZABETH
Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse
Abides in me, I say Amen to her.
KING RICHARD
Stay, madam: I must talk a word with you.
ELIZABETH     I have no more sons of the royal blood	200
For thee to slaughter. For my daughters, Richard,
They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens,
And therefore level not to hit their lives.
KING RICHARD You have a daughter call’d Elizabeth,
Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.	205
ELIZABETH     And must she die for this? O let her live,
And I’ll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty,
Slander myself as false to Edward’s bed,
Throw over her the veil of infamy;
So she may live unscarr’d of bleeding slaughter	210
I will confess she was not Edward’s daughter.
KING RICHARD
Wrong not her birth; she is a royal princess.
ELIZABETH     To save her life I’ll say she is not so.
KING RICHARD Her life is safest only in her birth.
ELIZABETH     And only in that safety died her brothers.	215
KING RICHARD
Lo, at their birth good stars were opposite.
ELIZABETH     No, to their lives ill friends were contrary.
KING RICHARD All unavoided is the doom of destiny.
ELIZABETH     True, when avoided grace makes destiny.
My babes were destin’d to a fairer death,	220
If grace had blest thee with a fairer life.
KING RICHARD
You speak as if that I had slain my cousins.
ELIZABETH
Cousins indeed! And by their uncle cozen’d
Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life:
Whose hand soever lanc’d their tender hearts,	225
Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction.
No doubt the murd’rous 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 desp’rate bay of death,
Like a poor bark of sails and tackling reft,
Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom.	235
KING RICHARD Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise
And dangerous success of bloody wars,
As I intend more good to you and yours
Than ever you or yours by me were harm’d.
ELIZABETH
What good is cover’d with the face of heaven,	240
To be discover’d, that can do me good?
KING RICHARD
Th’advancement of your children, gentle lady.
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!	245
ELIZABETH     Flatter my sorrow with report of it.
Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour,
Canst thou demise to any child of mine?
KING RICHARD Even all I have – ay, and myself and all
Will 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.
ELIZABETH
Be brief, lest that the process of thy kindness
Last longer telling than thy kindness’ date.	255
KING RICHARD
Then know that from my soul I love thy daughter.
ELIZABETH
My daughter’s mother thinks it with her soul.
KING RICHARD What do you think?
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 meaning:
I mean that with my soul I love thy daughter,
And do intend to make her Queen of England.
ELIZABETH
Well then, who dost thou mean shall be her king?	265
KING RICHARD
Even he that makes her Queen. Who else should be?
ELIZABETH     What, thou?
KING RICHARD Even so. How think you of it?
ELIZABETH     How canst thou woo her?
KING RICHARD That would I learn of you,
As one being best acquainted with her humour.
ELIZABETH     And wilt thou learn of me?
KING RICHARD     Madam, with all my heart!	270
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 sometimes Margaret
Did to thy father, steep’d in Rutland’s blood –	275
A handkerchief: which, say to her, did drain
The purple sap from her sweet brother’s body,
And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal.
If this inducement move her not to love,
Send her a letter of thy noble deeds:	280
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!
ELIZABETH     There is no other way –	285
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?
ELIZABETH
Nay, then indeed she cannot chose but hate thee,
Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.	290
KING RICHARD
Look what is done cannot be now amended:
Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,
Which after-hours gives leisure to repent.
If I did take the kingdom from your sons,
To make amends I’ll give it to your daughter;	295
If I have kill’d the issue of your womb,
To quicken your increase, I will beget
Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter.
A grandam’s name is little less in love
Than is the doting title of a mother;	300
They are as children but one step below;
Even of your metal, 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,	305
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.
I cannot make you what amends I would:
Therefore accept such kindness as I can.	310
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,	315
Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother;
Again shall you be mother to a king,
And all the ruins of distressful times
Repair’d with double riches of content.
What! We have many goodly days to see.	320
The liquid drops of tears that you have shed
Shall come again, transform’d to orient pearl,
Advantaging their loan with interest
Of ten times double gain of happiness.
Go then, my mother; to thy daughter go:	325
Make bold her bashful years with your experience;
Prepare her ears to hear a wooer’s tale;
Put in her tender heart th’aspiring flame
Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the Princess
With the sweet, silent hours of marriage joys,	330
And when this arm of mine hath chastised
The petty rebel, dull-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,	335
And she shall be sole victoress, Caesar’s Caesar.
ELIZABETH
What were I best to say? Her father’s brother
Would be her lord? Or shall I say her uncle?
Or he that slew her brothers and her uncles?
Under what title shall I woo for thee,	340
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.
ELIZABETH
Which she shall purchase with still-lasting war.
KING RICHARD
Tell her the King, that may command, entreats.	345
ELIZABETH
That, at her hands, which the King’s King forbids.
KING RICHARD
Say she shall be a high and mighty queen.
ELIZABETH     To vail the title, as her mother doth.
KING RICHARD Say I will love her everlastingly.
ELIZABETH     But how long shall that title ‘ever’ last?	350
KING RICHARD
Sweetly in force, until her fair life’s end.
ELIZABETH
But how long fairly shall her sweet life last?
KING RICHARD
As long as heaven and nature lengthens it.
ELIZABETH     As long as hell and Richard likes of it.
KING RICHARD Say I, her sovereign, am her subject low.	355
ELIZABETH
But she, your subject, loathes such sovereignty.
KING RICHARD Be eloquent in my behalf to her.
ELIZABETH     An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.
KING RICHARD Then plainly to her tell my loving tale.
ELIZABETH     Plain and not honest is too harsh a style.	360
KING RICHARD
Your reasons are too shallow and too quick.
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.
ELIZABETH
Harp on it still shall I, till heart-strings break.	365
KING RICHARD
Now by my George, my Garter, and my crown –
ELIZABETH
Profan’d, dishonour’d, and the third usurp’d.
KING RICHARD I swear –
ELIZABETH     By nothing, for this is no oath:
Thy George, profan’d, hath lost his holy honour;
Thy Garter, blemish’d, pawn’d his knightly virtue;	370
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.
KING RICHARD Now, by the world –
ELIZABETH     ’Tis full of thy foul wrongs.
KING RICHARD My father’s death –
ELIZABETH     Thy life hath it dishonour’d.	375
KING RICHARD Then by my self –
ELIZABETH     Thy self is self-misus’d.
KING RICHARD Why then, by God –
ELIZABETH     God’s wrong is most of all:
If thou didst fear to break an oath with Him,
The unity the King my husband made
Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers died;	380
If thou hadst fear’d to break an oath by Him,
Th’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 bed-fellows for dust –	385
Thy broken faith hath made the prey for worms.
What can’st thou swear by now?
KING RICHARD     The time to come!
ELIZABETH
That thou hast wronged in the time o’erpast:
For I myself have many tears to wash
Hereafter time, for time past wrong’d by thee.	390
The children live whose fathers thou hast slaughter’d:
Ungovern’d youth, to wail it in 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	395
Misus’d, ere us’d, by times ill-us’d o’erpast.
KING RICHARD As I intend to prosper and repent,
So thrive I in my dangerous affairs
Of hostile arms! Myself myself confound!
God and fortune, bar me happy hours!	400
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.	405
In her consists my happiness and thine;
Without her follows to myself, and thee,
Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul,
Death, desolation, ruin, and decay.
It cannot be avoided but by this;	410
It will not be avoided but by this.
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.	415
Urge the necessity and state of times,
And be not peevish found in great designs.
ELIZABETH     Shall I be tempted of the devil thus?
KING RICHARD Ay, if the devil tempt you to do good.
ELIZABETH     Shall I forget myself to be myself?	420
KING RICHARD
Ay, if your self’s remembrance wrong yourself.
ELIZABETH     Yet thou didst kill my children.
KING RICHARD
But in your daughter’s womb I bury them,
Where, in that nest of spicery, they will breed
Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.	425
ELIZABETH     Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?
KING RICHARD And be a happy mother by the deed.
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; [Kisses her]
and so farewell.	430
Exit Elizabeth
Relenting fool, and shallow, changing woman!
Enter RATCLIFFE.
How now, what news?
RATCLIFFE
Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast
Rideth a puissant navy; to our shores
Throng many doubtful, hollow-hearted friends,	435
Unarm’d, and unresolv’d to beat them back.
’Tis 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.	440
Ratcliffe, thyself – or Catesby – where is he?
CATESBY     Here, my good lord.
KING RICHARD     Catesby, fly to the Duke.
CATESBY     I will, my lord, with all convenient haste.
KING RICHARD
Ratcliffe, come hither. Post to Salisbury.
When thou com’st thither –
[to Catesby]      Dull unmindful villain!	445
Why stay’st thou here and go’st not to the Duke?
CATESBY
First, mighty liege, tell me your Highness’ pleasure,
What from your Grace I shall deliver to him.
KING RICHARD
O, true, good Catesby! Bid him levy straight
The greatest strength and power that he can make,	450
And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.
CATESBY     I go.      Exit.
RATCLIFFE
What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury?
KING RICHARD
Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go?
RATCLIFFE
Your Highness told me I should post before.	455
KING RICHARD My mind is chang’d.
Enter STANLEY, EARL OF DERBY.
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.
KING RICHARD
Hoyday, a riddle! Neither good nor bad –
What need’st thou run so many miles about	460
When thou mayst tell thy tale the nearest way?
Once more, what news?
STANLEY     Richmond is on the seas.
KING RICHARD
There let him sink, and the seas on him –
White-liver’d runagate! What doth he there?
STANLEY     I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.	465
KING 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?
Is the King dead? The empire unpossess’d?	470
What heir of York is there alive but we?
And who is England’s King but great York’s heir?
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,	475
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?	480
Are they not now upon the western shore,
Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships?
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?	485
STANLEY
They have not been commanded, mighty King.
Pleaseth your Majesty to give me leave,
I’ll muster up my friends, and meet your Grace
Where and what time your Majesty shall please.
KING RICHARD
Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone, to join with Richmond.	490
But I’ll not trust thee.
STANLEY     Most mighty sovereign,
You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful.
I never was, nor never will be, false.
KING RICHARD
Go then, and muster men – but leave behind
Your son George Stanley. Look your heart be firm,	495
Or else his head’s assurance is but frail.
STANLEY     So deal with him as I prove true to you.
Exit.
Enter a Messenger.
1 MESSENGER
My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire –
As I by friends am well advertised –
Sir Edward Courtney and the haughty prelate,	500
Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,
With many more confederates, are in arms.
Enter another Messenger.
2 MESSENGER
In Kent, my liege, the Guilfords are in arms,
And every hour more competitors
Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong.	505
Enter another Messenger.
3 MESSENGER
My lord, the army of great Buckingham –
KING RICHARD
Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of death?
[He striketh 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,	510
Buckingham’s army is dispers’d and scatter’d,
And he himself wander’d away alone,
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	515
Reward to him that brings the traitor in?
3 MESSENGER
Such proclamation hath been made, my lord.
Enter another Messenger.
4 MESSENGER
Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquess Dorset
’Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms;
But this good comfort bring I to your Highness:	520
The Breton navy is dispers’d by tempest.
Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat
Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks
If they were his assistants, yea or no? –
Who answer’d him they came from Buckingham	525
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.	530
Enter CATESBY.
CATESBY     My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken:
That is the best news. That the Earl of Richmond
Is with a mighty power landed at Milford
Is colder tidings, yet they must be told.
KING RICHARD
Away towards Salisbury! While we reason here	535
A royal battle might be won and lost.
Someone take order Buckingham be brought
To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.
Flourish. Exeunt.

4.5 Enter STANLEY, EARL OF DERBY 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.	5
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 Ha’rfordwest in Wales.	10
STANLEY     What men of name resort to him?
CHRISTOPHER     Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier;
Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley,
Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,
And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew,	15
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. Exeunt.

5.1 Enter Sheriff with halberds, and BUCKINGHAM led to execution.

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,
Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
Vaughan, and all that have miscarried	5
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?	10
SHERIFF     It is.
BUCKINGHAM
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 and his wife’s allies.	15
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:	25
‘When he,’ quoth she, ‘shall split thy heart with sorrow,
Remember Margaret was a prophetess!’
Come, lead me, officers, to the block of shame;
Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.
Exit with officers.

5.2 Enter RICHMOND, OXFORD, BLUNT, HERBERT and others, with drum and colours.

RICHMOND
Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends,
Bruis’d underneath the yoke of tyranny;
Thus far into the bowels of the land
Have we march’d on without impediment;
And here receive we from our father Stanley	5
Lines of fair 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	15
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.
BLUNT
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.

5.3 Enter KING RICHARD in arms, with NORFOLK, RATCLIFFE and the EARL OF SURREY, with others.

KING RICHARD
Here pitch our tent, even here in Bosworth field.
[Richard’s tent is raised, on one side of the stage.]
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.
KING RICHARD
Norfolk, we must have knocks – ha, must we not?	5
NORFOLK     We must both give and take, my loving lord.
KING RICHARD
Up with my tent! Here will I lie tonight –
But where tomorrow? 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.	15
Call for some men of sound direction;
Let’s lack no discipline, make no delay:
For, lords, tomorrow is a busy day!
[The tent is now ready.]      Exeunt through one door.
Enter through the other door RICHMOND, SIR WILLIAM BRANDON, OXFORD, and HERBERT, BLUNT, and others, who pitch Richmond’s tent on the other side of the stage.
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 tomorrow.
Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard.
My lord of Oxford, you Sir William Brandon,
And you Sir Walter Herbert, stay with me;
The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment –	25
Good captain Blunt, bear my goodnight to him,
And by the second hour in the morning
Desire the Earl to see me in my tent.
Yet one thing more, good captain, do for me:
Where is Lord Stanley quarter’d, do you know?	30
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.
RICHMOND     If without peril it be possible,	35
Sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak with him,
And give him from me this most needful note.
BLUNT     Upon my life, my lord, I’ll undertake it;
And so God give you quiet rest tonight.
RICHMOND     Good night, good captain Blunt.	40
Exit Blunt.
Give me some ink and paper in my tent;
I’ll draw the form and model of our battle;
Limit each leader to his several charge,
And part in just proportion our small power.
Come, gentlemen:	45
Let us consult upon tomorrow’s business;
Into my tent: the dew is raw and cold.
Richmond, Brandon, Oxford and Herbert withdraw into the tent. The others exeunt.
Enter KING RICHARD, RATCLIFFE, NORFOLK and CATESBY and attendant soldiers.
KING RICHARD What is’t o’clock?
CATESBY     It’s supper time, my lord: it’s nine o’clock.
KING RICHARD
I will not sup tonight. Give me some ink and paper.	50
What, is my beaver easier than it was,
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.	55
NORFOLK     I go, my lord.
KING RICHARD
Stir with the lark tomorrow, gentle Norfolk.
NORFOLK     I warrant you, my lord.      Exit.
KING RICHARD Catesby!
CATESBY     My lord?
KING RICHARD     Send out a pursuivant-at-arms	60
To Stanley’s regiment. Bid him bring his power
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 tomorrow;	65
Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy.
Ratcliffe!
RATCLIFFE     My lord?
KING RICHARD
Saw’st thou the melancholy Lord Northumberland?
RATCLIFFE     Thomas the Earl of Surrey and himself,	70
Much about cockshut time, from troop to troop
Went through the army cheering up the soldiers.
KING 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.	75
Set it down. Is ink and paper ready?
RATCLIFFE     It is, my lord.
KING RICHARD Bid my guard watch; leave me.
Ratcliffe, about the mid of night come to my tent
And help to arm me. Leave me, I say.
Exit Ratcliffe. Richard withdraws into his tent;
attendant soldiers guard it.
Enter STANLEY, EARL OF DERBY to Richmond in his tent.
STANLEY     Fortune and Victory sit on thy helm!	80
RICHMOND     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.	85
So much for that. The silent hours steal on,
And flaky darkness breaks within the East.
In brief, for so the season bids us be,
Prepare thy battle early in the morning,
And put thy fortune to the arbitrement	90
Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war.
I, as I may – that which I would, I 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,	95
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	100
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.
I’ll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap	105
Lest leaden slumber peise me down tomorrow
When I should mount with wings of victory.
Once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen.
Exeunt Stanley with Brandon, Oxford, Herbert.
[Kneels.] O Thou, whose captain I account myself,
Look on my forces with a gracious eye;	110
Put in their hands Thy bruising irons of wrath
That they may crush down, with a heavy fall,
Th’usurping helmets of our adversaries;
Make us Thy ministers of chastisement,
That we may praise Thee in the victory.	115
To Thee I do commend my watchful soul
Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes:
Sleeping and waking, O defend me still!
[Rises, withdraws into his tent, lies down and sleeps.]
Enter the ghost of young PRINCE EDWARD, son of Harry the Sixth.
GHOST OF PRINCE EDWARD [to King Richard]
Let me sit heavy on thy soul tomorrow.
Think how thou stab’st me in my prime of youth	120
At Tewkesbury; despair therefore, and die.
[to Richmond] Be cheerful, Richmond, for the wronged souls
Of butcher’d princes fight in thy behalf;
King Henry’s issue, Richmond, comforts thee. Exit.
Enter the ghost of HENRY THE SIXTH.
GHOST OF HENRY [to King Richard]
When I was mortal, my anointed body	125
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 thy sleep. Live and flourish!
Exit.
Enter the ghost of CLARENCE.
GHOST OF CLARENCE [to King Richard]
Let me sit heavy in thy soul tomorrow –
I, that was wash’d to death with fulsome wine,
Poor Clarence, by thy guile betray’d to death –
Tomorrow in the battle think on me,	135
And fall thy edgeless sword; despair and die.
[to Richmond] Thou offspring of the House of Lancaster,
The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee.
Good angels guard thy battle; live and flourish.
Exit.
Enter the ghosts of RIVERS, GREY and VAUGHAN.
GHOST OF RIVERS [to King Richard]
Let me sit heavy in thy soul tomorrow,	140
Rivers that died at Pomfret: despair and die.
GHOST OF GREY [to King Richard]
Think upon Grey, and let thy soul despair.
GHOST OF VAUGHAN [to King Richard]
Think upon Vaughan, and with guilty fear
Let fall thy lance; despair and die.
ALL [to Richmond]
Awake, and think our wrongs in Richard’s bosom	145
Will conquer him: awake, and win the day.      Exeunt.
Enter the ghost of HASTINGS.
GHOST OF HASTINGS [to King 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.
Exit.
Enter the ghosts of the two young PRINCES.
GHOSTS OF PRINCES EDWARD AND YORK
[to King Richard]
Dream on thy cousins, smother’d in the Tower:
Let us be lead within thy bosom, Richard,
And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death;
Thy nephews’ souls bid thee despair and die.	155
[to Richmond] 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.
Exeunt.
Enter the ghost of LADY ANNE, his wife.
GHOST OF ANNE [to King Richard]
Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne, thy wife,	160
That never slept a quiet hour with thee,
Now fills thy sleep with perturbations.
Tomorrow in the battle think on me,
And fall thy edgeless sword: despair and die.
[to Richmond] Thou quiet soul, sleep thou a quiet
sleep;	165
Dream of success and happy victory.
Thy adversary’s wife doth pray for thee.     Exit.
Enter the ghost of BUCKINGHAM.
GHOST OF BUCKINGHAM [to King Richard]
The first was I that help’d thee to the crown;
The last was I that felt thy tyranny.
O, in the battle think of 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.	175
God and good angels fight on Richmond’s side;
And Richard fall in height of all his pride.      Exit.
[Richard starteth up out of a 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 and I.
Is there a murderer here? No. Yes, I am!	185
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
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,	195
And every tale condemns me for a villain:
Perjury, perjury, in the highest degree;
Murder, stern murder, in the direst degree;
All several sins, all us’d in each degree,
Throng to the bar, crying all, ‘Guilty, guilty!’	200
I shall despair. There is no creature loves me,
And if I die, no soul will pity me –
And wherefore should they, since that I myself
Find in myself no pity to myself?
Methought the souls of all that I had murder’d	205
Came to my tent, and every one did threat
Tomorrow’s vengeance on the head of Richard.
Enter RATCLIFFE.
RATCLIFFE     My lord!
KING RICHARD Zounds! Who is there?
RATCLIFFE
Ratcliffe, my lord; ’tis I. The early village cock	210
Hath twice done salutation to the morn;
Your friends are up and buckle on their armour.
KING RICHARD
O Ratcliffe, I have dream’d a fearful dream!
What thinkest thou – will our friends prove all true?
RATCLIFFE     No doubt, my lord.
KING RICHARD     O Ratcliffe, I fear, I fear!	215
RATCLIFFE
Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows.
KING RICHARD By the Apostle Paul, shadows tonight
Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard
Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers,
Armed in proof, and led by shallow Richmond.	220
’Tis not yet near day; come, go with me:
Under our tents I’ll play the eavesdropper
To see if any mean to shrink from me.
Exeunt Richard and Ratcliffe.
Enter the Lords to RICHMOND sitting in his tent.
LORDS     Good morrow, Richmond.
RICHMOND     Cry mercy, lords and watchful gentlemen,	225
That you have ta’en a tardy sluggard here.
1 LORD How have you slept, my lord?
RICHMOND
The sweetest sleep and fairest-boding dreams
That ever enter’d in a drowsy head
Have I, since your departure, had, my lords.	230
Methought their souls whose bodies Richard murder’d
Came to my tent and cried on victory.
I promise you my soul is very jocund
In the remembrance of so fair a dream.
How far into the morning is it, lords?	235
1 LORD Upon the stroke of four
RICHMOND
Why then ’tis time to arm and give direction.
[Comes out from the tent.]
His oration to his soldiers.
More than I have said, loving countrymen,
The leisure and enforcement of the time
Forbids to dwell upon. Yet remember this:	240
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.	245
For what is he they follow? Truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyrant and a homicide;
One rais’d in blood, and one in blood establish’d;
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;
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;	255
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 quits in it your age.
Then, in the name of God and all these rights,
Advance your standards, draw your willing swords!	265
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!
Exeunt Richmond and his followers.
Enter KING RICHARD, RATCLIFFE and soldiers.
KING RICHARD
What said Northumberland, as touching Richmond?
RATCLIFFE     That he was never trained up in arms.
KING RICHARD
He said the truth. And what said Surrey then?
RATCLIFFE
He smil’d and said, ‘The better for our purpose.’	275
KING RICHARD He was in the right, and so indeed it is.
[The clock striketh.]
Tell the clock there! Give me a calendar –
Who saw the sun today?
RATCLIFFE     Not I, my lord.
KING RICHARD
Then he disdains to shine, for by the book
He should have brav’d the east an hour ago.	280
A black day will it be to somebody.
Ratcliffe!
RATCLIFFE     My lord?
KING RICHARD The sun will not be seen today!
The sky doth frown and lour upon our army:
I would these dewy tears were from the ground.	285
Not shine today? Why, what is that to me
More than to Richmond? For the self-same 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
[Richard arms.]
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;	295
Our archers shall be placed in the midst.
John, Duke of Norfolk, Thomas, Earl of Surrey
Shall have the leading of this 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, Norfolk?
NORFOLK     A good direction, warlike sovereign.
[He sheweth him a paper.]
This I found on my tent this morning.
KING RICHARD [reading]
Jockey of Norfolk, be not so bold:	305
For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.
A thing devised by the enemy.
Go, gentlemen: every man unto his charge!
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls;
Conscience is but a word that cowards use,	310
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 it pell-mell –
If not to Heaven, then hand in hand to hell!
His oration to his army.
What shall I say, more than I have inferr’d?	315
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 to you 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 brother’s cost?	325
A milksop! 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,	335
And in record left them the heirs of shame.
Shall these enjoy our lands? Lie with our wives?
Ravish our daughters?      [Drum afar off.]
Hark, I hear their drum.
Fight, gentlemen of England! Fight, bold yeomen!
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!	340
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood!
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.
KING RICHARD Off with his son George’s head!	345
NORFOLK     My lord, the enemy is past 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,	350
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
Upon them! Victory sits on our helms.     Exeunt.

5.4 Alarum. Excursions. Enter NORFOLK and soldiers; then at the other door 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.	5
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!
Exeunt Norfolk and soldiers.
Alarums. Enter KING RICHARD.
KING RICHARD
A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!
CATESBY     Withdraw, my lord; I’ll help you to a horse.
KING 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 today instead of him.
A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!      Exeunt.

5.5 Alarum. Enter KING RICHARD and RICHMOND;
they fight. Richard is slain, then, retreat being sounded,
exit Richmond; Richard’s body is carried off.
Flourish. Enter RICHMOND, STANLEY, EARL OF DERBY
bearing the crown, with other lords and soldiers.

RICHMOND
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!
[presenting the crown]
Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty
From the dead temples of this bloody wretch	5
Have I pluck’d off to grace thy brows withal.
Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.
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,	10
Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us.
RICHMOND     What men of name are slain on either side?
STANLEY
John, Duke of Norfolk; Walter, Lord Ferrers;
Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon.
RICHMOND     Inter their bodies as become their births.	15
Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled
That in submission will return to us;
And then, as we have ta’en the sacrament,
We will unite the white rose and the red.
Smile, heaven, upon this fair conjunction,	20
That long have 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;	25
The son, compell’d, been butcher to the sire.
All this divided York and Lancaster –
Divided, in their dire division.
O now let Richmond and Elizabeth,
The true succeeders of each royal House,	30
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,	35
That would reduce these bloody days again,
And make poor England weep in streams of blood.
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.	40
That she may long live here, God say Amen. Exeunt