# Richard III (1927) Yale/Text/Act IV

Notes originally placed at the bottom of each page appear below, following Act IV. Where these notes gloss a word in the text, the gloss can also be found by hovering over the text.
Where these notes refer to an end note (cf. n. = confer notam; "consult note"), a link to the accompanying end note is provided from the Footnotes section. The end notes accompanying Act IV begin on page 162 of the original volume.
Layout 2
ACT FOURTH
Scene One
[London. Before the Tower]
Duch. York. Who meets us here? my niece Plantagenet, Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester? Now, for my life, she's wand'ring to the Tower, On pure heart's love, to greet the tender prince, 4 Daughter, well met.
Anne. God give your Graces both A happy and a joyful time of day!
Q. Eliz. As much to you, good sister! whither away?
Anne. No farther than the Tower; and, as I guess, 8 Upon the like devotion as yourselves, To gratulate the gentle princes there.
Q. Eliz. Kind sister, thanks: we'll enter all together:—
Enter the Lieutenant [Brakenbury].
And, in good time, here the lieutenant comes. 12 Master lieutenant, pray you, by your leave, How doth the prince, and my young son of York?
Brak. Right well, dear madam. By your patience, I may not suffer you to visit them: 16 The king hath strictly charg'd the contrary.
Q. Eliz. The king! who's that?
Brak. I mean the Lord Protector.
​Q. Eliz. 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?
Duch. York. 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, 24 And take thy office from thee, on my peril.
Brak. No, madam, no, I may not leave it so: I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.
Exit Lieutenant.
Enter Stanley.
Stan. Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence, 28 And I'll salute your Grace of York as mother, And reverend looker-on of two fair queens. [To the Duchess of Gloucester.] Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster, There to be crowned Richard's royal queen. 32
Q. Eliz. Ah! cut my lace asunder, That my pent heart may have some scope to beat, Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news.
Anne. Despiteful tidings! O! unpleasing news! 36
Dor. Be of good cheer: mother, how fares your Grace?
Q. Eliz. 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, 44 ​And make me die the thrall of Margaret's curse, Nor mother, wife, nor England's counted queen.
Stan. Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam. [To Dorset.] Take all the swift advantage of the hours; 48 You shall have letters from me to my son In your behalf, to meet you on the way: Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.
Duch. York. O ill-dispersing wind of misery! 52 O my accursed womb, the bed of death! A cockatrice hast thou hatch'd to the world, Whose unavoided eye is murtherous!
Stan. Come, madam, come; I in all haste was sent. 56
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!'
Q. Eliz. Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory; To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm. 64
Anne. 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 issu'd from my other angel husband, 68 And that dead saint which then I weeping follow'd; O! when, I say, I look'd on Richard's face, This was my wish, 'Be thou,' quoth I, 'accurs'd, For making me, so young, so old a widow! 72 And, when thou wedd'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! 76 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 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. 84 Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick, And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
Q. Eliz. Poor heart, adieu! I pity thy complaining.
Anne. No more than with my soul I mourn for yours. 88
Dor. Farewell! thou woeful welcomer of glory!
Anne. Adieu, poor soul, that tak'st thy leave of it!
Duch. York. [To Dorset.] Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee! [To Anne.] Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee! 92 [To Q. Elizabeth.] Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee! 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. 96
Q. Eliz. 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 sorrow bids your stones farewell.
Exeunt.
Scene Two
[The Same. A Room of State in the Palace]
K. Rich. Stand all apart! Cousin of Buckingham!
Buck. My gracious sovereign!
K. Rich. Give me thy hand. Sound. [He ascends the throne.] Thus high, by thy advice, And thy assistance, is King Richard seated: 4 But shall we wear these glories for a day? Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?
Buck. Still live they, and for ever let them last!
K. Rich. Ah! Buckingham, now do I play the touch, 8 To try if thou be current gold indeed: Young Edward lives: think now what I would speak.
Buck. Say on, my loving lord.
K. Rich. Why, Buckingham, I say, I would be king. 12
Buck. Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned lord.
K. Rich. Ha! am I king? 'Tis so: but Edward lives.
Buck. True, noble prince.
K. Rich. O bitter consequence, That Edward still should live! 'True, noble prince!' 16 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 sayst thou now? speak suddenly, be brief. 20
Buck. Your Grace may do your pleasure.
K. Rich. Tut, tut! thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes: ​Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?
Buck. Give me some little breath, some pause, dear lord, 24 Before I positively speak in this: I will resolve you herein presently. Exit Buck.
Cate. [Aside to another.] The king is angry: see, he gnaws his lip.
K. Rich. [Descends from his throne.] I will converse with iron-witted fools 28 And unrespective boys: none are for me That look into me with considerate eyes. High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect. Boy! 32
Page. My lord!
K. Rich. Know'st thou not any whom corrupting gold Will tempt unto a close exploit of death?
Page. I know a discontented gentleman, 36 Whose humble means match not his haughty spirit: Gold were as good as twenty orators, And will, no doubt, tempt him to anything.
K. Rich. What is his name?
Page. His name, my lord, is Tyrrell. 40
K. Rich. 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. Hath he so long held out with me, untir'd, 44 And stops he now for breath? well, be it so.
Enter Stanley.
How now, Lord Stanley! what's the news?
Stan. Know, my loving lord, The Marquess Dorset, as I hear, is fled 48 To Richmond, in the parts where he abides.
K. Rich. Come hither, Catesby: rumour it abroad That Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick; I will take order for her keeping close. 52 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 56 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: 64 Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
[Re-]enter [Page with] Tyrrell.
Is thy name Tyrrell?
Tyr. James Tyrrell, and your most obedient subject.
K. Rich. Art thou, indeed?
Tyr. Prove me, my gracious lord. 68
K. Rich. Dar'st thou resolve to kill a friend of mine?
Tyr. Please you; but I had rather kill two enemies.
K. Rich. Why, then thou hast it: two deep enemies, Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleep's disturbers, 72 Are they that I would have thee deal upon. Tyrrell, I mean those bastards in the Tower.
Tyr. Let me have open means to come to them, ​And soon I'll rid you from the fear of them. 76
K. Rich. Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrell: 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. 80
Tyr. I will dispatch it straight. Exit.
[Re-]enter Buckingham.
Buck. My lord, I have consider'd in my mind The late request that you did sound me in.
K. Rich. Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to Richmond. 84
Buck. I hear the news, my lord.
K. Rich. Stanley, he is your wife's son: well, look to it.
Buck. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise, For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd: 88 Th' earldom of Hereford and the moveables Which you have promised I shall possess.
K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife: if she convey Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it. 92
Buck. What says your highness to my just request?
K. Rich. I do remember me, Henry the Sixth Did prophesy that Richmond should be king, When Richmond was a little peevish boy. 96 A king! perhaps—
[Buck. My lord!
K. Rich. How chance the prophet could not at that time Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him? 100
​Buck. My lord, your promise for the earldom,—
K. Rich. 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, 104 Because a bard of Ireland told me once I should not live long after I saw Richmond.
Buck. My lord!
K. Rich. Ay, what's o'clock? 108
Buck. I am thus bold to put your Grace in mind Of what you promis'd me.
K. Rich. Well, but what is 't o'clock?
Buck. Upon the stroke of ten.
K. Rich. Well, let it strike.
Buck. Why let it strike? 112
K. Rich. 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.]
Buck. May it please you to resolve me in my suit? 116
K. Rich. Thou troublest me: I am not in the vein.
Exit [King Richard and Train].
Buck. 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 120 To Brecknock, while my fearful head is on. Exit.
Scene Three
[The Same]
Enter Tyrrell.
Tyr. 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 4 To do this piece of ruthful butchery, Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs, Melted with tenderness and mild compassion, Wept like to children in their death's sad story. 8 'Oh! 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, 12 And in their summer beauty kiss'd each other. A book of prayers on their pillow lay; Which one,' quoth Forrest, 'almost chang'd my mind; But, O, the devil'—there the villain stopp'd; 16 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: And here he comes.
Enter Richard.
All health, my sovereign lord!
K. Rich. Kind Tyrrell, am I happy in thy news? 24
Tyr. If to have done the thing you gave in charge Beget your happiness, be happy, then, For it is done.
K. Rich. But didst thou see them dead?
Tyr. I did, my lord.
K. Rich. And buried, gentle Tyrrell? 28
Tyr. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them; But where, to say the truth, I do not know.
K. Rich. Come to me, Tyrrell, soon, and after supper, When thou shalt tell the process of their death. 32 Meantime, but think how I may do thee good, And be inheritor of thy desire. Farewell till then.
Tyr. I humbly take my leave. [Exit.]
K. Rich. The son of Clarence have I pent up close; 36 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 Britaine 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 Ratcliff.
Rat. My lord! 44
K. Rich. Good or bad news, that thou com'st in so bluntly?
Rat. 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. 48
K. Rich. Ely with Richmond troubles me more near Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength. Come; I have learn'd that fearful commenting Is leaden servitor to dull delay. 52 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; 56 We must be brief when traitors brave the field.
Exeunt.
Scene Four
[The Same. Before the Palace]
Enter old Queen Margaret.
Q. Mar. 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. 4 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? 8
Enter Duchess [of York] and Queen [Elizabeth].
Q. Eliz. Ah! my poor princes! ah, my tender babes, My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets, ​If yet your gentle souls fly in the air And be not fix'd in doom perpetual, 12 Hover about me with your airy wings, And hear your mother's lamentation.
Q. Mar. Hover about her; say, that right for right Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night. 16
Duch. So many miseries have craz'd my voice, That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute. Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?
Q. Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet; 20 Edward for Edward pays a dying debt.
Q. Eliz. 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? 24
Q. Mar. When holy Harry died, and my sweet son.
Duch. 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, 28 Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth, [Sitting down.] Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood!
Q. Eliz. Ah! that thou wouldst as soon afford a grave As thou canst yield a melancholy seat; 32 Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here. Ah! who hath any cause to mourn but we?
[Sitting down by her.]
Q. Mar. If ancient sorrow be most reverend, Give mine the benefit of signiory, 36 ​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 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.
Duch. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him; 44 I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him.
Q. Mar. 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: 48 That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes, To worry lambs, and lap their gentle blood, That foul defacer of God's handiwork, That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls, 52 That excellent grand-tyrant of the earth, 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 56 Preys on the issue of his mother's body, And makes her pew-fellow with others' moan.
Duch. O, Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes! God witness with me, I have wept for thine. 60
Q. Mar. 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; The other Edward dead, to quit my Edward; 64 ​Young York he is but boot, because both they 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, 68 Th' adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves. Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer, Only reserv'd their factor, to buy souls 72 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. 76 Cancel his bond of life, dear God! I pray, That I may live and say, The dog is dead.
Q. Eliz. O! thou didst prophesy the time would come That I should wish for thee to help me curse 80 That bottled spider, that foul bunchback'd toad.
Q. Mar. 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; 84 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 88 To be the aim of every dangerous shot; A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble, A queen in jest, only to fill the scene. Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers? 92 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 flatter'd thee? Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee? 96 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. 104 Thus hath the course of justice whirl'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. 108 Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow? Now thy proud neck bears half my burthen'd yoke, From which even here I slip my wearied head, 112 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.
Q. Eliz. O thou, well skill'd in curses, stay awhile, 116 And teach me how to curse mine enemies.
Q. Mar. 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: Bettering thy loss makes the bad causer worse: Revolving this will teach thee how to curse.
Q. Eliz. My words are dull; O! quicken them with thine! 124
​Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce like mine.
Exit Margaret.
Duch. Why should calamity be full of words?
Q. Eliz. Windy attorneys to their clients' woes, Airy succeeders of intestate joys, 128 Poor breathing orators of miseries! Let them have scope: though what they will impart Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart.
Duch. If so, then be not tongue-tied: go with me, 132 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 [marching].
K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedition? 136
Duch. O! she that might have intercepted thee, By strangling thee in her accursed womb, From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done!
Q. Eliz. 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? 144
Duch. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother Clarence And little Ned Plantagenet, his son?
Q. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Grey?
Duch. Where is kind Hastings? 148
K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets! strike alarum, drums! Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women ​Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I say! Flourish. Alarums. Either be patient, and entreat me fair, 152 Or with the clamorous report of war Thus will I drown your exclamations.
Duch. Art thou my son?
K. Rich. Ay; I thank God, my father, and yourself. 156
Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience.
K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your condition, That cannot brook the accent of reproof.
Duch. O, let me speak!
K. Rich. Do, then; but I'll not hear. 160
Duch. I will be mild and gentle in my words.
K. Rich. And brief, good mother; for I am in haste.
Duch. Art thou so hasty? I have stay'd for thee, God knows, in torment and in agony. 164
K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you?
Duch. 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; 168 Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; Thy school-days frightful, desperate, wild and furious; Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous; Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, 172 More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred. What comfortable hour canst thou name That ever grac'd me with thy company?
K. Rich. Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that call'd your Grace 176 ​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!
Duch. I prithee, hear me speak. 180
K. Rich. You speak too bitterly.
Duch. Hear me a word; For I shall never speak to thee again.
K. Rich. So!
Duch. Either thou wilt die by God's just ordinance, 184 Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror; Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish, And never more behold thy face again. Therefore take with thee my most grievous curse, 188 Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st! My prayers on the adverse party fight; And there the little souls of Edward's children 192 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. 196
Exit.
Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse Abides in me: I say amen to her. [Going.]
K. Rich. Stay, madam; I must talk a word with you.
Q. Eliz. 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.
K. Rich. You have a daughter call'd Elizabeth, 204 ​Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.
Q. Eliz. 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; 208 Throw over her the veil of infamy: So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter, I will confess she was not Edward's daughter.
K. Rich. Wrong not her birth; she is a royal princess. 212
Q. Eliz. To save her life, I'll say she is not so.
K. Rich. Her life is safest only in her birth.
Q. Eliz. And only in that safety died her brothers.
K. Rich. Lo! at their birth good stars were opposite. 216
Q. Eliz. No, to their lives ill friends were contrary.
K. Rich. All unavoided is the doom of destiny.
Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes destiny. My babes were destin'd to a fairer death, 220 If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life.
K. Rich. You speak as if that I had slain my cousins.
Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle cozen'd Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. 224 Whose hand soever lanch'd their tender hearts, Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction: No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart, 228 To revel in the entrails of my lambs. But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame, My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes; 232 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.
K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise 236 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.
Q. Eliz. What good is cover'd with the face of heaven, 240 To be discover'd, that can do me good?
K. Rich. Th' advancement of your children, gentle lady.
Q. Eliz. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads?
K. Rich. Unto the dignity and height of fortune, 244 The high imperial type of this earth's glory.
Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrow with report of it: Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour, Canst thou demise to any child of mine? 248
K. Rich. Even all I have; ay, and myself and all, Will I withal endow a child of thine; So in the Lethe of thy angry soul Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs 252 Which thou supposest I have done to thee.
Q. Eliz. Be brief, lest that the process of thy kindness Last longer telling than thy kindness' date.
K. Rich. Then know, that from my soul I love thy daughter. 256
Q. Eliz. My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul.
K. Rich. What do you think?
Q. Eliz. 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.
K. Rich. 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. 264
Q. Eliz. Well then, who dost thou mean shall be her king?
K. Rich. Even he that makes her queen: who else should be?
Q. Eliz. What! thou?
K. Rich. Even so: how think you of it? 268
Q. Eliz. How canst thou woo her?
K. Rich. That I would learn of you, As one being best acquainted with her humour.
Q. Eliz. And wilt thou learn of me?
K. Rich. Madam, with all my heart.
Q. Eliz. Send to her, by the man that slew her brothers, 272 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, 276 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, 280 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. 284
K. Rich. You mock me, madam; this is not the way To win your daughter.
Q. Eliz. There is no other way, ​Unless thou couldst put on some other shape, And not be Richard that hath done all this. 288
K. Rich. Say, that I did all this for love of her?
Q. Eliz. Nay, then, indeed, she cannot choose but hate thee, Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.
K. Rich. Look, what is done cannot be now amended: 292 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. 296 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 300 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 304 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, 308 And by that loss your daughter is made queen. I cannot make you what amends I would, Therefore accept such kindness as I can. Dorset, your son, that with a fearful soul 312 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 316 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. 320 What! we have many goodly days to see: The liquid drops of tears that you have shed Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl, Advantaging their love with interest 324 Of ten times double gain of happiness. Go then, my mother; to thy daughter go: Make bold her bashful years with your experience; Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale; 328 Put in her tender heart th' aspiring flame Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the princess With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys: And when this arm of mine hath chastised 332 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, 336 And she shall be sole victress, Cæsar's Cæsar.
Q. Eliz. 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? 340 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?
K. Rich. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance. 344
Q. Eliz. Which she shall purchase with still lasting war.
K. Rich. Tell her, the king, that may command, entreats.
​Q. Eliz. That at her hands which the king's King forbids.
K. Rich. Say, she shall be a high and mighty queen. 348
Q. Eliz. To vail the title, as her mother doth.
K. Rich. Say, I will love her everlastingly.
Q. Eliz. But how long shall that title 'ever' last?
K. Rich. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end. 352
Q. Eliz. But how long fairly shall her sweet life last?
K. Rich. As long as heaven and nature lengthens it.
Q. Eliz. As long as hell and Richard likes of it.
K. Rich. Say, I, her sovereign, am her subject low. 356
Q. Eliz. But she, your subject, loathes such sovereignty.
K. Rich. Re eloquent in my behalf to her.
Q. Eliz. An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.
K. Rich. Then plainly to her tell my loving tale. 360
Q. Eliz. Plain and not honest is too harsh a style.
K. Rich. Your reasons are too shallow and too quick.
Q. Eliz. O, no! my reasons are too deep and dead; Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. 364
K. Rich. Harp not on that string, madam; that is past.
Q. Eliz. Harp on it still shall I till heartstrings break.
K. Rich. Now, by my George, my garter, and my crown,—
Q. Eliz. Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third usurp'd. 368
​K. Rich. I swear,—
Q. Eliz. By nothing; for this is no oath. Thy George, profan'd, hath lost his lordly honour; Thy garter, blemish'd, pawn'd his knightly virtue; Thy crown, usurp'd, disgrac'd his kingly glory. 372 If something thou wouldst swear to be believ'd, Swear, then, by something that thou hast not wrong'd.
K. Rich. Then, by myself,—
Q. Eliz. Thyself is self-misus'd.
K. Rich. Now, by the world,—
Q. Eliz. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs. 376
K. Rich. My father's death,—
Q. Eliz. Thy life hath it dishonour'd.
K. Rich. Why, then, by God,—
Q. Eliz. God's wrong is most of all. If thou didst fear to break an oath with him, The unity the king my husband made 380 Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers died: 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, 384 And both the princes had been breathing here, Which now, two tender bed-fellows for dust, Thy broken faith hath made the prey for worms. What canst thou swear by now?
K. Rich. The time to come. 388
Q. Eliz. That thou hast wronged in the time o'er-past; For I myself have many tears to wash Hereafter time for time past wrong'd by thee. The children live, whose fathers thou hast slaughter'd, 392 ​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 396 Misus'd ere us'd, by times ill-us'd o'erpast.
K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and repent, So thrive I in my dangerous affairs Of hostile arms! myself myself confound! 400 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, 404 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, 408 Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul, Death, desolation, ruin, and decay: It cannot be avoided but by this; It will not be avoided but by this. 412 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: 416 Urge the necessity and state of times, And be not peevish found in great designs.
Q. Eliz. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus?
K. Rich. Ay, if the devil tempt you to do good. 420
Q. Eliz. Shall I forget myself to be myself?
K. Rich. Ay, if your self's remembrance wrong yourself.
Q. Eliz. Yet thou didst kill my children.
​K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I bury them: 424 Where, in that nest of spicery, they will breed Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.
Q. Eliz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?
K. Rich. And be a happy mother by the deed. 428
Q. Eliz. I go. Write to me very shortly, And you shall understand from me her mind.
K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss; and so farewell. Exit Q[ueen Elizabeth]. Relenting fool, and shallow changing woman! 432
Enter Ratcliff [followed by Catesby].
How now! what news?
Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast Rideth a puissant navy; to our shores Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, 436 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. 440
K. Rich. Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Norfolk: Ratcliff, thyself, or Catesby; where is he?
Cate. Here, my good lord.
K. Rich. Catesby, fly to the duke.
Cate. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. 444
K. Rich. Ratcliff, come hither. Post to Salisbury: When thou com'st thither—[To Catesby.] Dull, unmindful villain, Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke?
​Cate. First, mighty liege, tell me your highness’ pleasure, 448 What from your Grace I shall deliver to him.
K. Rich. O, true, good Catesby! bid him levy straight The greatest strength and power that he can make, And meet me suddenly at Salisbury. 452
Cate. I go. Exit.
Rat. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury?
K. Rich. Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go?
Rat. Your highness told me I should post before. 456
K. Rich. My mind is chang'd.
Enter Lord Stanley.
Stanley, what news with you?
Stan. None good, my liege, to please you with the hearing; Nor none so bad but well may be reported.
K. Rich. Hoyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad! 460 What need'st thou run so many miles about, When thou mayst tell thy tale the nearest way? Once more, what news?
Stan. Richmond is on the seas.
K. Rich. There let him sink, and be the seas on him! 464 White-liver'd runagate! what doth he there?
Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.
K. Rich. Well, as you guess?
Stan. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton, 468 He makes for England, here to claim the crown.
​K. Rich. Is the chair empty? is the sword unsway'd? Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd? What heir of York is there alive but we? 472 And who is England's king but great York's heir? Then, tell me, what makes he upon the seas?
Stan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.
K. Rich. Unless for that he comes to be your liege, 476 You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes. Thou wilt revolt and fly to him I fear.
Stan. No, my good lord; therefore mistrust me not.
K. Rich. Where is thy power, then, to beat him back? 480 Where be thy tenants and thy followers? Are they not now upon the western shore, Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships?
Stan. No, my good lord, my friends are in the north. 484
K. Rich. Cold friends to me: what do they in the north, When they should serve their sovereign in the west?
Stan. They have not been commanded, mighty king: Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave, 488 I'll muster up my friends, and meet your Grace, Where and what time your majesty shall please.
K. Rich. Ay, [ay,] thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond: But I'll not trust thee.
Stan. Most mighty sovereign, 492 You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful. I never was, nor never will be false.
K. Rich. Go, then, and muster men: but leave behind Your son, George Stanley: look your heart be firm, 496 ​Or else his head's assurance is but frail.
Stan. So deal with him as I prove true to you.
Exit Stanley.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, As I by friends am well advertised, 500 Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate, Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother, With many moe confederates are in arms.
Enter another Messenger.
[Sec.] Mess. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in arms; 504 And every hour more competitors Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong.
Enter another Messenger.
[Third] Mess. My lord, the army of great Buckingham—
K. Rich. Out on ye, owls! nothing but songs of death? 508 He striketh him. There, take thou that, till thou bring better news.
[Third] Mess. 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; 512 And he himself wander'd away alone, No man knows whither.
K. Rich. I cry thee mercy: There is my purse, to cure that blow of thine. Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd 516 Reward to him that brings the traitor in?
​[Third] Mess. Such proclamation hath been made, my lord.
Enter another Messenger.
[Fourth] Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel, and Lord Marquess Dorset, 'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms: 520 But this good comfort bring I to your highness, The Britaine navy is dispers'd by tempest. Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat Unto the shore to ask those on the banks 524 If they were his assistants, yea or no; Who answer'd him, they came from Buckingham Upon his party: he, mistrusting them, Hois'd sail, and made his course again for Britaine. 528
K. Rich. 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 Catesby.
Cate. My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken, 532 That is the best news: that the Earl of Richmond Is with a mighty power landed at Milford Is colder news, but yet they must be told.
K. Rich. Away towards Salisbury! while we reason here, 536 A royal battle might be won and lost. Some one take order Buckingham be brought To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.
Flourish. Exeunt.
Scene Five
[The Same. A Room in Lord Derby's House]
Enter Derby and Sir Christopher [Urswick].
Der. 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; 4 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. 8 But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now?
Chris. At Pembroke, or at Ha'rford-west, in Wales.
Der. What men of name resort to him?
Chris. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier, 12 Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley, Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt, And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew; And many other of great name and worth: 16 And towards London do they bend their power, If by the way they be not fought withal.
Der. Well, hie thee to thy lord; I kiss his hand: My letter will resolve him of my mind. 20 Farewell. Exeunt.
Footnotes to Act IV
Scene One
​1 niece: grandchild 4 On: out of 9 like devotion; cf. n. 10 gratulate: greet ​26 it: i.e. my office 32 crowned; cf. n. 35 dead-killing: death-dealing 36 Despiteful: cruel 42 Richmond; cf. n. from: beyond ​45 thrall: slave, victim 46 counted: accounted 54 cockatrice; cf. n. 58 verge: circle 72 old: i.e. old in sorrow 74 Cf. I. ii. 26–28 ​85 Warwick; cf. n. 95 Eighty odd; cf. n. 96 wrack'd with: destroyed by teen: woe
99 envy: spite 101 ragged: rough sullen: dismal
Scene Two
​8 play the touch: play the part of a touchstone; cf. n. 15 consequence: sequel ​26 resolve you: give you a definite answer 29 unrespective: heedless 31 High-reaching: ambitious 35 close: secret exploit: deed 40 Cf. n. 42 deep-revolving: profoundly considering witty: cunning ​51 grievous sick; cf. n. 58 stands . . . upon: concerns me greatly 60 brother's daughter: cf. n. 65 Tear-falling: causing tears to fall 68 Prove: test 73 deal upon: set to work on ​79 There . . . so: i.e. nothing more than to carry out the whispered instructions 80 prefer: advance 88 pawn'd: pledged 91 wife; cf. n. 92 answer: answer for 94 remember me: recollect 95 prophesy; cf. n. 98–115 Cf. n. 99 How chance: how chances it that ​104 Rougemont; cf. n. 113 Jack; cf. n. 116 resolve: confirm; cf. n. 121 Brecknock; cf. n.
Scene Three
​2 arch: principal 4 suborn: procure by bribery 5 ruthful: pitiable 6 flesh'd: hardened; cf. n. 8 in: in relating 9 Dighton; cf. n. 10 Forrest; cf. n. 11 alabaster: marble-white 18 replenished: complete, perfect 19 prime: first in time fram'd: formed 20 gone: completely overcome ​32 process: narrative 34 inheritor: possessor 36 pent up; cf. n. 37 daughter; cf. n. 38 Abraham's bosom; cf. n. 40 Britaine: Breton; cf. n. 42 knot: i.e. marriage alliance 43 S. d. Ratcliff; cf. n. 46 Morton: John Morton, Bishop of Ely; cf. n. ​48 power: body of troops; cf. n. 49 near: closely 50 rash-levied: hastily raised 51 fearful commenting: timorous discussion 52 leaden: figuratively for 'slow' 54 expedition: haste 55 Jove's Mercury; cf. n. 57 brave: boastfully dispute
Scene Four
​3 confines: regions, territories 6 to France; cf. n. 10 unblown: unblossomed, budding ​15 right for right; cf. n. 17 craz'd: cracked 20 quit: requite 28 abstract: epitome; cf. n. 31 thou: i.e. the earth 36 signiory: precedence ​37 on . . . hand: in the first place 52, 53 Cf. n. 52 galled: sore from weeping; cf. n. 53 excellent: superlative 56 carnal: bloody 58 pew-fellow: associate 64 The: misprint for 'thy' (?) ​65 boot: something given in addition, to make up a deficiency of value 69 adulterate: adulterous 71 intelligencer: secret agent, spy 72 their: refers to hell 84 presentation: semblance 85 index . . . pageant: cf. n. 88–90 Cf. n. 88 garish: gaudy ​97 Decline: go through formally 101 caitiff: wretch (literally, captive) 105 Cf. n. 118 the: during the 122 Bettering: magnifying 123 Revolving: thinking over 124 quicken: enliven ​128 intestate: literally, not having made a will; cf. n. 131 Help . . . else: is of no avail otherwise 142 ow'd: owned 148 Cf. n. ​152 entreat me fair: use me well 158 condition: temperament 163 stay'd: waited 169 Tetchy: fretful, peevish 171 prime of: early 173 kind in hatred: i.e. hating while pretending kindness 176 Humphrey Hour; cf. n. ​178 disgracious: out of favor 196 serves: i.e. is servant to 203 level: aim 204 Elizabeth; cf. n. ​210 So: provided 216 opposite; cf. n. 223 cozen'd: cheated 225 lanch'd: pierced 226 Cf. n. 234 reft: bereft ​236–239 Cf. n. 237 success: result 245 type: emblem (crown) 248 demise: convey 251 Lethe: cf. n. 259 from: apart from ​276 Cf. n. 284 conveyance: i.e. dishonest dealing; cf. n. ​289 Cf. n. 291 spoil: waste, havoc 304 Of . . . pain: of equal interest and responsibility 305 bid: offered 312 Dorset: cf. n. ​324 love: cf. n. 333 Cf. n. ​347 king's . . . forbids; cf. n. 349 vail: lower 362 quick: hasty 365, 366 Cf. n. 367 George; cf. n. ​375 Cf. n. 378 God; cf. n. 381 brothers; cf. n. 391 Hereafter time: the future ​397 Cf. n. 401 Cf. n. 406 tender: hold in high estimation 418 found; cf. n. ​425 Cf. n. 426 recomforture: renewed comfort 439 hull: drift; cf. n. 441 light-foot: nimble Norfolk; cf. n. 445 Ratcliff; cf. n. Salisbury; cf. n. ​452 suddenly: immediately 460 Hoyday: exclamation of surprise 465 White-liver'd runagate: cowardly roamer ​476 liege: sovereign 477 Welshman; cf. n. 479 mistrust; cf. n. ​497 assurance: safety 501 Sir Edward Courtney; cf. n. 502 Bishop of Exeter; cf. n. 503 moe: more 504 the Guildfords; cf. n. 505 competitors: associates 508 owls . . . death; cf. n. 513 Cf. n. ​522 tempest; cf. n. 528 Hois'd: hoisted 532 Cf. n. 534 landed; cf. n.
Scene Five
​3 frank'd up; cf. n. in hold: in custody as a hostage 4 If I revolt; cf. n. 10 Ha'rford-west: Haverfordwest 12–15 Cf. n. 15 crew: band