The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare

But keep our course, though the rough wind | Ye see, I drink the water of mine eyes. [wreck. Therefore, no more but this:-Henry, your From shelves and rocks that threaten us with sovereign, As good to chide the waves, as speak them Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp'd,

say-no,

fair.

And what is Edward, but a ruthless sea?
What Clarence, but a quicksand of deceit?
And Richard, but a ragged fatal rock?
All these the enemies to our poor bark.
Say, you can swim; alas, 'tis but a while:
Tread on the sand; why, there you quickly

sink:

Bestride the rock; the tide will wash you off,
Or else you famish, that's a threefold death.
This speak I, lords, to let you understand,
In case some one of you would fly from us,
That there's no hop'd-for mercy with the bro-
thers,

More than with ruthless waves, with sands,
and rocks.

Why, courage, then! what cannot be avoided,
'Twere childish weakness to lament, or fear.
Prince. Methinks, a woman of this valiant
spirit
[words,
Should, if a coward heard her speak these
Infuse his breast with magnanimity,
And make him, naked, foil a man at arms,
I speak not this, as doubting any here:
For, did I but suspect a fearful man,
He should have leave to go away betimes;
Lest, in our need, he might infect another,
And make him of like spirit to himself.
If any such be here, as God forbid !
Let him depart, before we need his help.
Oxf. Women and children of so high a
[shame.-
And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual
O, brave young prince! thy famous grand-
father
[live,
Doth live again in thee; Long may'st thou
To bear his image, and renew his glories!
Som. And he, that will not fight for such a
hope,

courage!

Go home to bed, and, like the owl by day,
If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at.
Q. Mar. Thanks, gentle Somerset; sweet

Oxford, thanks.

Prince. And take his thanks, that yet hath nothing else.

hand,

Enter a MESSENGER.

His realm a slaughterhouse, his subjects slain,
His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent;
And yonder is the wolf, that makes this spoil.
You fight in justice: then, in God's name,
lords,

Be valiant, and give signal to the fight.

[Exeunt both Armies.

SCENE V.-Another part of the same. Alarums: Excursions: and afterwards a Retreat. Then Enter King EDWARD, CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and Forces; with Queen MARGARET, OXFORD, and SOMERSET, Prisoners.

K. Edw. Now, here a period of tumultuous broils. Away with Oxford to Hammes' castle* straight: For Somerset, off with his guilty head. Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak.

Oxf. For my part, I will not trouble thee with words.

Som. Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.

[Exeunt OXFORD and SOMERSET, guarded. Q. Mar. So part we sadly in this troublous world,

To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.
K. Edw. Is proclamation made,-that, who
finds Edward,

Shall have a high reward, and he his life?
Glo. It is: and, lo, where youthful Edward

comes.

Enter Soldiers, with Prince EDWARD. K. Edw. Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him speak:

What! can so young a thorn begin to prick?
Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make,
For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects,
And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to?
Prince. Speak like a subject, proud ambi-
tious York!

Suppose, that I am now my father's mouth; Resign thy chair, and, where I stand, kneel thou, Mess. Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at Whilst I propose the self-same words to thee, Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer Q. Mar. Ah, that thy father had been so resolv'd! Glo. That you might still have worn the petticoat,

Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.

Oxf. I thought no less: it is his policy,
To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.

Som. But he's deceiv'd, we are in readiness.
Q. Mar. This cheers my heart, to see your

forwardness.

Oxf. Here pitch our battle, hence we will
not budge.

March. Enter at a distance, King EDWARD,
CLARENCE, GLOSTER, and Forces.

K. Edw. Brave followers, yonder stands the

thorny wood,

Which, by the heavens' assistance, and your
strength,

Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.
I need not add more fuel to your fire,
For well I wot,* ye blaze to burn them out:
Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords.

Q. Mar. Lords, knights, and gentlemen,

what, I should say,

My tears gainsay;t for every word I speak, + Unsay, deny.

• Know.

sort

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

Prince. I know my duty, you are all undu- Now march we hence: discharge the common tiful: With pay and thanks, and let's away to Lon[don, And see our gentle queen how well she fares; By this, I hope, she hath a son for me. [Exeunt.

K. Edw. Hold, Richard, hold, for we have

Q. Mar. O, kill me too !

Glo. Marry, and shall.

[Offers to kill her.

done too much.

with words?*

Glo. Why should she live, to fill the world

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

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

I'll hence to London on a serious matter:

Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news.

Clar. What? what?

Glo. The Tower, the Tower!
Q. Mar. O, Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy

[Exit.
mother, boy!
[derers!-
Canst thou not speak?--O traitors! mur-
They, that stabb'd Cæsar, shed no blood at all,
Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
If this foul deed were by, to equal it.

He was a man; this, in respect, a child;

And men ne'er spend their fury on a child. [it?
What's worse than murderer, that I may name
No, no; my heart will burst, an if I speak:-
And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.
Butchers and villains, bloody cannibals!
How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd!
You have no children, butchers! if you had,
The thought of them would have stirr'd up re-

morse:

But, if you ever chance to have a child,
Look in his youth to have him so cut off,

prince!

perforce.

As, deathsmen! you have rid this sweet young
K. Edw. Away with her; go, bear her hence
Q. Mar. Nay, never bear me hence, despatch
me here;
Here sheath thy sword, I'll pardon thee my
[death:
What! wilt thou not?-then, Clarence, do it
thou.

Clar. By heaven, I will not do thee so much
Q. Mar. Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence,

ease.

do thou do it..

Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear, I would not do it.

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

Hard-favour'd Richard? Richard, where art
Thou art not here: Murder is thy alms-deed;
Petitioners for blood thou ne'er put'st back.

K. Edw. Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her
hence.

Q. Mar. So come to you, and yours, as to
this prince!
[Exit, led out forcibly.

K. Edw. Where's Richard gone?
Clar. To London, all in post; and, as I guess,
To make a bloody supper in the Tower.

K. Edw. He's sudden, if a thing comes in

his head.

• Dispute, contention.

1. She alludes to the desertion of Clarence.

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

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

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

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

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

and kill'd.

Glo. Why, what a peevisht fool was that of
Crete,

That taught his son the office of a fowl?
And yet, for all his wings, the fool was
drown'd.

K. Hen. I, Dædalus; my poor boy, Icarus
Thy father, Minos, that denied our course;
Thy brother Edward; and thyself, the sea,
The sun, that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy,
Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words!
Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life.
Than can my ears that tragic history.-
My breast can better brook thy dagger's point,
But wherefore dost thou come? is't for my life?
Glo. Think'st thou, I am an executioner ?
K. Hen. A persecutor, I am sure, thou art;
Why, then thou art an executioner.
If murdering innocents be executing,

Glo. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption. -
K. Hen. Hadst thou been kill'd, when first

Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born.
And orphans for their parents' timeless death,-
The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time;
The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign;
Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down
The raven rook'd|| her on the chimney's top,
And chattering pies in dismal discords sung.
* Careless. + To misdoubt is to suspect danger, to fear.
Childish. No part of what my fears presage.
To rook, signified to squat down or lodge on any

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

Glo. I'll hear no more; -Die, prophet, in thy speech; [Stabs him. For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd. K. Hen. Ay, and for much more slaughter after this.

O God! forgive my sins, and pardon thee!

caster

[Dies. Glo. What, will the aspiring blood of LanSink in the ground? I thought it would have mounted. [death! See, how my sword weeps for the poor king's O, may such purple tears be always shed From those that wish the downfal of our house!

If any spark of life be yet remaining,
Down, down to hell; and say-I sent thee
thither,
[Stabs him again.
I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.-
Indeed, 'tis true, that Henry told me of;
For I have often heard my mother say,
I came into the world with my legs forward:
Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste,
And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right?
The midwife wonder'd; and the women cried,
O, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!
And so I was; which plainly signified-
That I should snarl, and bite, and play the
[so,
Then since the heavens have shap'd my body
Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it.
I have no brother, I am like no brother:
And this word-love, which greybeards call

dog.

divine,

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

pride?

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

With them, the two brave bears, Warwick
and Montague,
That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion,
And made the forest tremble when they roar'd.
Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat,
And made our footstool of security.-
Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy:-
Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles, and my-
self,
[night;
Have in our armours watch'd the winter's
Went all a foot in summer's scalding heat,
That thou might'st repossess the crown in
peace;

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

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

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

K. Edw. Clarence, and Gloster, love my lovely queen;

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

brother, thanks.

Glo. And, that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st,

Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit:-
To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his

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

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

Having my country's peace, and brothers

loves.

Clar. What will your grace have done with

[Exit.

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

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

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

Margaret?

Reignier, her father, to the king of France
Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem,
And hither have they sent it for her ransom.
K. Edw. Away with her, and waft her hence
to France.
[time
And now what rests, but that we spend the
With stately triumphs,* mirthful comic shows,

Such as beft the pleasures of the comic

Sound, drums and trumpets!-farewell, sour annoy! For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.

* Select.

* Public shows.

[Exeunt

ACT I.

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

Glo. Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds, that lowr'd upon our house, In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;

Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled
front;

And now, instead of mounting barbedt steeds,
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,-
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber,
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's
majesty,

To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time

* Dances.

† Armed.

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

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

rence comes.

Clar. His majesty,

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

Glo. Upon what cause?

Clar. Because my name is-George.

Glo. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours;

He should, for that, commit your godfathers:O, belike, his majesty hath some intent,

That you shall be new christen'd in the Tower.
But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know?
Clar. Yea, Richard, when I know; for I
protest,

As yet I do not: but, as I can learn,
He hearkens after prophecies, and dreams;
And from the cross-row plucks the letter G,
And says a wizard told him, that by G
His issue disinherited should be;

And, for my name of George begins with G,
It follows in his thought, that I am he:
These, as I learn, and such like toys* as these,
Have mov'd his highness to commit me now.

Glo. Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by

women:

'Tis not the king, that sends you to the Tower;
My lady Grey, rey, his wife, Clarence, 'tis she,
That tempers him to this extremity.
Was it not she, and that good man of worship,
Anthony Woodeville, her brother there, [er;
That made him send lord Hastings to the Tow-
From whence this present day he is deliver'd?
We are not safe, Clarence, we are not safe.

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

Glo. Humbly complaining to her deity Got my lord chamberlain his liberty. I'll tell you what, I think, it is our way, If we will keep in favour with the king, To be her men, and wear her livery: The jealous o'er-worn widow, and herself,t Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewoAre mighty gossips in this monarchy. [men, Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon

me;

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

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

You may partake of any thing we say:
We speak no treason, man;- We say, the king
Is wise, and virtuous; and his noble queen
Well struck in years; fair, and not jealous:
We say, that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
A cherry lip,

A bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue;
And the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks:
How say you, Sir? can you deny all this?

Brak. With this, my lord, myself have

naught to do.

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

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

Brak. What one, my lord?

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

betray me?

Brak. I beseech your grace to pardon me; and, withal,

Forbear your conference with the noble duke. + The Queen and Shore.

Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury,

and will obey.

Glo. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey.

Brother, farewell: I will unto the king;
And whatsoever you will employ me in,-
Were it, to call king Edward's widow-sis-
I will perform it to enfranchise you.
[ter,-
Mean time, this deep disgrace in brotherhood,
Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
Glo. Well, your imprisonment shall not be
I will deliver you, or else lie for you: [long;
Mean time, have patience.

Clar. I must perforce; farewell.

[Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard.

must:

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

Glo. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too;

For they, that were your enemies, are his,
And have prevail'd as much on him, as you.
Hast. More pity that the eagle should be
mew'd,t

While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.
Glo. What news abroad?

Hast. No news so bad abroad, as this at

home;

The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy,
And his physicians fear him mightily.

Glo. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad O, he hath kept an evil diet long, [indeed, And over-much consum'd his royal person; 'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. What, is he in his bed?

Hast. He is.

And leave the world for me to bustle in!
For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest
daughter:
[ther?
What though I kill'd her husband and her fa.
The readiest way to make the wench amends,
Is to become her husband, and her father:
The which will 1; not all so much for love,
As for another secret close intent,

By marrying her, which I must reach unto.
But yet I run before my horse to market:
+ Confual

* Fancies.

* Lowest of subjects

« Previous Continue »

Books