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Numerous Illustrations by GORDON BROWNK 




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W. G. BLACKn AMD 00., PRniTIRS. 


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• *• 


The plays in this volume, with the exception of Richard III., belong 
to what is generally called Shakespeare's Second Period. In King John 
we find a great advance in characterization; in the Merchant of Venice 
we have the first of Shakespeare's best comedies; and in the two parts 
of Henry IV. Shakespeare rea,ches the climax of excellence in his historic 
plays. The first play in this volume, Richard III., occupies a dispro- 
portionate space owing to the immense number of differences between 
the Quarto and Folio readings, and to the difliculty of deciding, in many 
instances, between these two authorities on the text. 

In this volume the plan of co-operation, as far as the editing is con- 
cerned, has been put to a practical test. The difficulty of securing 
uniformity in the plan of the work has been considerable in the case of 
plays edited at a distance — the two last plays having been chiefly edited 
in America. But I hope that the object which we set before us in com- 
mencing this edition has been attained, namely, while preserving all the 
characteristic features of the edition, to allow the co-editors of the 
various plays perfect liberty of opinion. 

I have again to thank many kind friends for their valuable help; and 
I trust that the very moderate amount of fault-finding, in which some 
of the critics and private individuals have indulged, will not be found to 
have been wasted. Some slips have been made in spite of all the care 
that has been exercised; but I defer giving a list of errata till the 
work is farther advanced. 










Act I. Bcene 1. lines 12, 13, . . 15 

Glo. He capers nimbly in a ladj'a chamber 
To the loidrioui pleasing of a lute. 

Act I. scene 1. lines 122, 123, . 17 

lIa$L Good time of day unto ray gradoai lord ! 
OUt. As much onto my good lord chamberlain ! 

Act I. scene 2. lines 179, 180, . 21 

Glo. 14ay, do not pause; for I did kill King Ueni7,— 
But *t was thy beauty that pruroked me. 

Act I. scene 8. lines 1, 2, . .24 

Rip. Hare patience, madam: there *b no doubt his majesty 
Will soon reoofver his aoenstom'd health. 

Act L scene 3. lines 340, 841, . 29 

(iio. Hownow, my hardy, stoat, retolrad mates! 
An yon now going to dispatdi this thing? 

Act L scene 4. line 169, . . .38 

Clar. In God's name, whai art thoa? 

Act n. scene 3. line 9, . . .89 

ThirdCtL TlM(n,mastan,looktoMeAtnmbUmsworId. 

Act III. scene 1. line 2, . . .43 

Gto. Welcome, dear oooain, my thoughts' ■orereign. 

Act III. scene 2. lines 6, 7, . .46 

Jltttt. Cannot thy master sleep these tedious nights? 
Me*$. Bo it appears by that I hare to say. 

Act in. scene 3. lines 8, 9, . . 48 

Ri9. O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thon bloody pciioii. 
Fatal aod ominous to noUe pecrsl 

Act HI. scene 4. line 105, . . .50 

Ha$t. bloody Bichaid !— miserable England I 

Act HI. scene 5. line 24, . 52 

Glo. So dear I loT'd the man, that I must weep. 

Act III. scene 6. lines 1,2, . .54 

Scrip. Here is th* indictment of the good Lord Hastings 
Which in a set hand fairly is engross'd. 

Act IV. scene 1. lines 1, 2, . .59 

Dudi. Who meets us here?— my niece Plaatagenet, 
Led iu the hand of her kind aunt of Gloster? 

Act IV. scene 3. lines 9-11, . .68 

Ti/r. ** 0, thus," quoth Dighton. " lay the gentle babes."— 
" Thus, thus," quoth Forrest, *' girdling one another 
Within their alabaster innocent arms." 

Act IV. scene 4. lines 9, 10, (EUking) 64 

Q. JTZis. Ah, my poor prinoes! ah, my tender babes! 
Uy unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets I 

Act IV. scene 4. lines 418, 419, . 

Q. Blu. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus? 
K. RidL Ay, if the deril tempt thee to do good. 


Act V. scene 2. lines 1, 2, . .74 

Riehm. Fellows in arms, and my most loring friends, 
Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny. 

Act V. scene 3. lines 162, 163, . . 78 

Ghott of Q. Aime. To-morrow in the battle think on me. 
And fall thy edgeless sword: despair, and die! 






Terminal to Introduction, 


Act L scene 1. line 21, . 

CktiL Than Uke my kins'i deftanoe firom my mouth. 

Act I. scene 1. lines 244, 245, . . 165 

BasL Knight* knight, good mother,— Baailiwx>-Uke; 
What I I am dnhb'd :— I have it on my shoulder. 

Act II. scene 1. line 19, . 167 

AuMt. upon thy cheek lay I this lealous kiss. 

Act II. scene 1. line 89, . . .169 

K. Phi, Peace be to England. 

Act II. scene 1. line 202, .171 

K. Phu T is France, for England. 

K. John. England, for itself. 

Act II. scene 1. line 416, . .174 

Pirtt CiL Hear us, great kings. 

Act III. scene 1. line 112, {Etchiwj) FrontU. 

AiuL Liiij CoDstance, peace! 

C<m$L War! war! no peace! peace is to me a war. 

Act IIL scene 2. lines 5-7, .182 

K. John. Philip, make up : 

Hy mother it sssallfd in our tent, and ta'en, 1 fear. 

Act IIL scene 3. lines 65, 66, . .184 

K. John. Death. 

Hvb. My lord? 

K. John. A grave. 

Act IV. scene 1. lines 102, 103, . . 189 

Arth. O, spare mine eyes. 

Though to no use but still to look on you ! 

Act IV. scene 2. line 193, . . 193 

Hub. I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus. 

Act IV. scene 3. line 2, . . .195 

Arth. Good ground, be pitiful and hurt me not ! 

Act V. scene 1. lines 1, 2, .198 

K. John. Thus have I yielded up into your hand 
The circle of my glory. 

Act V. scene 7. line 35, . . . 205 

K. John. Poison'd,— ill fare ;— dead, forsook, cast off. 


Act I. scene 1. lines 103, 104, 

Gra. Fare ye well awhile : 

I'll end my exhortation after dinntr. 


Act I. scene 2. line 28, . 257 

Pwr. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose 
one, nor refuse none? 

Act I. scene 3. lines 124-126, . 260 

Shy. Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key. 
With bated breath and whispering humbleness, 
Say this? 

Act II. scene 2. lines 42-44, . . 263 

Lawn. Tuni up on your right band at the next 
turning, but, at the next turning of all, on your left. 

Act IL scene 3. lines 8, 9, 266 

Ju. And so farewell : I would not have my father 
Bee me in talk with th«e. 

Act IL scene 6. lines 26, 27, . . 268 

Jss. Who are yon? Tell me, for more certainty. 
Albeit 1 11 swear that I do know your tongue. 

Act IL scene 7. line 13, . . . 270 

JTor. Some god direct my Judgmeutt 

Act III. scene 1. lines 86-88, . . 274 

Shif. Why, there, there, there, then; ! a diamond 
gone, cost mo two thousand duoatt in Frankfort t 

Act IIL scene 2. line 107, (EUhing) 277 

Ams. And hare choosa It— joy ba tha ouosaqnauoe I 

Act IIL scene 2. lines 251-253, . . 279 

Por. With leave, Bassanio; I am half ynuntelf. 
And I must freely have the half of any thing 
That this same paper brings you. 

Act IIL scene 3. lines 17, 18, . 281 

Halar. It is the most impcnctxuble cur 
That ever kept with men. 

Act IIL scene 4. lines 62-64, . . 282 

Par. 1 11 hold thee any wager. 

When we are both accoutred like young meu, 
1 11 prove the prettier fellow of the two. 

Act IV. scene 1. lines 395, 396, . . 289 

Shif. I pray you, givo me leave to gu from hence; 
I am not well. 

Act IV. scene 2.. lines 5-7, . . 291 

Ora. Fair sir, you are well o'crta'en : 
My Lord Bassanio, upon mora oiitrioa. 
Hath lent you here this ring. 

Act V. scene 1. line 1, . • 293 

Lor. In such a night as this. 

Act V. scene 1. lines 89-91, . 294 

Pjr. That light we see is burning in my hall. 
How far that littlo caudle throws his beams I 
So shiuca a good deed in a naughty world. 

Act V. scene 1. line 219, . 

Ba$B. Pardon ma, good huly. 





Act I. scene 1. lines 1, 2, 

Kimo. Bo shaken as we are, n wmn with care. 
Find we a time for frighted peace to pant. 


Act I. scene 2. lines 110, 111, . . 340 

Priiiec. Where shall we take a pone to-morrow. Jack? 

Act I. scene 3. lines 43-45, 343 

Hot He call'd them antaught knaves, unmannerlj. 
To bring a slovenly unhandsome cone 
Betwixt the wind and his nobilitjr. 

Act II. scene 2. lines 50, 51, . . 351 

Ladif. In thy faint slambers I by thee have watch'd, 
▲nd heanl thee munnar tales of iron wars. 

Act II. scene 4. lines 590, 591, . . 359 

Prine$. monstrous ! but one half-pennyworth of 
bread to this intolerable deal of sack t 

Act in. scene 1. lines 117, 118, . . 361 

HoL Who shall say me nay ? 

GUttd. Why. that wiU I. 

Act IIL scene 2. lines 92, 93, . . 365 

Pri»e4. I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord. 
Be mora myself. 

Act III. scene 3. lines 71, 72, . . 369 

Hotl. Who, I? no; I defy thee. God's light! I 
was never call'd so in mine own house before. 

Act IV. scene 1. lines 13, 14, . . 371 

Hot. yMuit letten hast thou there?— I can but thank you. 
Me*$. These letten come from your father. 

Act IV. scene 2, . (Eteking) 373 

FalstaiT's ragged regiment. 

Act IV. scene 4. lines 1, 2, 375 

Arch. Hie, good Sir Michael, bear this sealed i>rief 
With winged haste to the lord manhal. 

Act V. scene 1. lines 142-144, . 


Fal. Therefore 1 11 none of it. Honour is a mere 
scutcheon; and so ends my catechism. 

Act V. scene 3. line 16, . . 381 

Dong. All 's done, all 'a won ; here breathless lies the king. 

Act V. scene 4. lines 37, 38, . . 382 

Doug. But mine I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be. 
And thus I win thee. 

Act V. scene 4. lines 102^103, . . 384 

Prmee. What, old acquaintance! could not all this flesh 
Keep in a Uttle life? 


Act I. scene 1. lines 2, 8, 


L. Bard. Tell thou the earl 

That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. 

Act L scene 2. lines 62-65, . 432 

Pagt. Sir, here comes the nobleman that com- 
mitted the prince fur striking him about Bardolph. 
Fal. Wait close; I wiU not see him. 

Act II. scene 1. lines 53-56, 438 

Hott. Throw me in the channel ! 1 11 throw thee 
in the channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thon bas- 
tardly rogue ! Ifurther, murtherl Ah, thou hooej* 
kockle villain ! 

Act II. scene 3. lines 57-59, .443 

Ladr Ptr. So cane I a widow; 

And never shall have length of life enough 
To raio upon remembrance with mine eyes. 

Act II. scene 4. line 119, . 445 

Pi$L Ood saTe yon, sir John ! 

Act IL scene 4. line 218, . 447 

fbL Get yon down stairs. 

Act IIL scene 1. lines 5>8, . 451 

Kim(f. O sleep, O gentle sleep. 

Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee. 
That thon no more wilt weigh my eyelids down 
And steep my senses in forgetfuln« 

Act III. scene 2. lines 186, 187, {Etching) 454 

Pal. Fore God, a likely fellow I— Come, prick me 
Bnllcalf till he roar again. 

Act III. scene 2. lines 234-236, . . 455 

Bull Good Master Corporate Bardolph. stand my 
friend ; and here 's four Haixy ten shillings in 
French crowns for you. 

Act IV. scene 2. line 2, . .460 

Lan. Good day to you, gentle lord Archbishop. 

Act IV. scene 3. lines 18, 19, . . 463 

CoL I think you are Sir John Falstalf, and in that 
thought yield me. 

Act IV. scene 5. lines 41-44, .467 

PrktM. My due from thee is this imperial crowu. 
Which, as immediate from thy place and blood. 
Derives itself to me. Lo, here it sits. 
Which God shall guard. 

Act V. scene 1. lines 35, 36, . 471 

ShcJ. Use his men well, Davy ; for they are arrant 
knaves, and will backbite. 

Act V. scene 2. lines 4, 5, . 473 

ITar. He 's walked the way of nature. 

And to our purposes he lives no more. 


Act V. Mene 5. lini 

Act V. •oen« 4. line 8, . 






/vvk VOL. III. 




sonn to 
I the King. 

King Kdward thk Fourth. 
Edward, Prince of Wales, nCterwanlM 

King Edward V., 
Richard, Dnke of York, 

George, Duke of Clarence, ^ , 

^ ^ , . ,,, . ,1 brothers to 

KiCHA Ki), Duke of Gloster, af terwanis ^ , , . 

King RichaHl III., J *' •"'"«• 

A Young Son of Clarence. 
Henry, Earl of Richmond, afterwards King 

Henry VII. 
('ARDINAL BoiRCHiER, Archbirihop of C*anter- 

Thomah Kotherham, Archbishop of Y(»rk. 
John Morton, Bishop of Ely. 
Duke of Buckingham. 
Duke of Norfolk. 
Earl of Surrey, bis sf^n. 

Earl Riverh, brother to King Edward's Queen. 
MARQUEt^s OF Dorset and Lord (iRey, her sont*. 
Earl of Oxford. 
Lord Hastings. 
Lord Stanley. 

t^rd lovel. 
Sir Thomas Vaughan. 
Sir Richard Ratcliff. 
Sir William Catebby. 
Sir James Tyrrel. 
Sir James Blunt. 
Sir Walter Herbert. 

Sir Robert Brakenbury, lieutenant of the Tower. 
('hristopher Urswick, a Priest. Another Priest 
J^ord Mayor of London. Sheriff of Wiltshire. 
Tressel and Berkeley, attending on I^ad}- Anne. 
Ghost of King Henry VI., Prince Edward, his son, 
and others. 

Elizabeth, Queen to King Edwanl IV. 

MAR<iARET, widow of King Henry VI. 

Duchess of York, mother to King Edward 1 V., 

Clarence, and (iloster. 
liADY Anne, widow of Edward, Prince of Wales, 

son to King Henry VI.; afterwards married to 

Richard, Duke of Glostor. 

A Young Daughter of Clarence. 
Lords and other Attenilants; a Pursuivant, Scrivener, CUtizens, Murderers, Messengers, Soldiers, &c. 

Scene— III various parts of England. 

'Hie time of this play, according to Daniel, (Kx:upies eleven days, with intervals. 

Day 1 : Act I. Hocnes 1 and 2. -Interval. 

Day 2 : Act J. Scenes .'{ and 4 ; Act II. Scenes 1 and 2. 

Day 3: Act II. Scene 3.— Interval. 

Day 4: Act II. Scene 4. 

Day 5: Act III. Scene 1. 

Day H: Act III. Scenes 2-7. 

Day 7: Act IV. Scene 1. 
Day 8: Act IV. Scenes 2-5.- Interval. 
Day 0: Act V. .Scene 1.— Interval. 
Day 10 : Act V. Scene 2 and first half of Scene 3. 
I>ay 11 : Act V. second half of Scene 3 and Sceiio^ 
4 and Ct. 

Historic Dates.— The dea<l Ixxly of Henry VI. exposeil to public view in St. Paul's, *22nd May, 1471. 
Marriage of Richard with Anne, 147*2. Death of Clarence, beginning of 1478. Death of Edwanl IV.. 
9th April, 1483. Rivers and (irty arrested, 30th April, 1483. Hastings execute<l, 13th June, 1483. 
Rivers, Cirey, and Vaughan executed, 15th June, 1483. Buckingham harangues the citizens in Cuild- 
hall, 24th June, 1483. I.<i>rd Mayor and citizens offer Richard the cntwn, 2fith June: ht* is declare<l 
king at Westminster Hall, 'Jtith Jiuie; and crowned, 6th July, 1483. Buckingham executed, October. 
1483. Death (.f Queen Anne, 16th March, 1485. Henry V 1 1. lands at Milford Haven, 7th August, 1 4^.^. 
Battle of Bosworth Field, 22nd August, 148.1. 




Of this play tliei*e are more e<litiou8 printeil 
l)efore M\4() than of aiiy other play of Shake- 
apeare's. A« in the case of I. Henry IV., six 
QuarU> editions of this play apj)eared before 
the pulilication of the first Folio in 1623. The 
first Qiuato was printed in 1597, and en- 

The Tragetly of j King Kich;ird the third. | 
Containing, | His treacherous Plots against 
his brother Clarence: | the pittiefuU mui-therof 
hw innoc-ent nephewes: | his tyrannical! vsur- 
pation: with the whole c(iurse | of his detested 
life, and most desenied death. { As it hath 
boene hitely Acted by the j Eight honourable 
the Lonl (.1iaml)er- | laine his seruants. | At 
London \ Pnnted by Valentine Sims, for 
Andrew Wise, | dwellin<u' in Paules Cliiirch- 
yanl,atthe \ Sign of theAngell. \ 1597. | The 
next Quai-to apiHiiued in 1598; the title-{)age 
is substiintially the siune, except that the 
name of the author ("/(y William Shake- 
>»lJeaTe") was addeil, and that it was printed 
by Tliomas Oeeile for the same ])ublisher. 
The thiixl Quarto was printed ui 1(502. On 
the title- jmge of this edition we find "Newly 
augmented ; " but this stjitement is not founded 
on fact, as no additions wei*e made. It was re- 
priut4r(l fr^im tlie second Quiirto by the same 
]irijiter for the same publisher; and the only 
additions to be found in it are some additiomd 
errors of the press. Tlie fourth Quarto was 
printed in 1605 from the thiixl, with the same 
title -fjage, except that it was printed for 
**Matheic 1 /^«y?, dwelling in Paules Cliuivh- 
yard, at the Signe \ of the Foxe, neare S. 
Austins gsite, H505. \ " and not for Andi-ew 
Wise. The fifth Quarto, which has on the 
title- iJHge: ** ) As it liath beene lately Acted 
by the Kings Maiesties j seruants. | " wtis 

printed in 1612 not from Q. 4 but from Q. 3, 
by the same printer and for the aime book- 
seller as the last edition. Tlie next edition, 
the sixth Quiirto, is the rarest of all, only one 
copy being known, which is in the Cai)ell col- 
lection. It was publisheil in 1622, and the 
title-page is the same as that of Q. 5, except 
that it was printed by Tliomas Purfoot for 
the same publisher, Matthew La we. Another 
etlition, Q. 7, was printed in 1629; the text was 
taken, not from F. 1 , but from Q. (J. ** It was 
printed by John Norton for Matthew Law. 
Except in the name of the printer, iuid the 
substitution of the word Hii'anoiw' for 'tvrnin- 
nicjil,' the title-page <loes not differ fixuu that 
of Q. 6'' (see Cambridge ed. p. xv.). The 
eighth and last Quaito is a mere ivprint of 
Q. 7, and was printed by John Norton in 1(534. 
** There is no lMX)k8eller's name on the title- 
jMige, if we may tntst that which Capell has 
sup])lied in MS. *froni a copy in the jxtsses- 
sion of Messrs. Tonsons and Di-aper'" {ut 

Tlie differences aii<l discreiKUicies lH?tween 
the two princi{)al authentic texts, viz. Q. 1 
and F. 1, are so numerous, and so bewildering 
in their variety and character, that the at- 
tem])t to piece together from these disi;ordaiit 
authorities a text, which shall ap])i*o2K'h as 
closely as jiossible to what Shakespeare in- 
tended his amended text to lie, is enough to 
till any e<litor with despair. Various theories 
have been stai*ted to acc<nnit for the utter 
want of agreement Ijetween Q. 1 and F. 1; 
but none of them furnish any satisfactory 
solution of the mystery. The theory of the 
Cambridge editoi"s is so ingeniously devisetl, 
and so cju'efully worke<l out, that in justice to 
them we must ([uote it at length: 

*'The following scheme will liest explain 
the theor>' which we submit as a not inijios- 



sible way of accounting for the phenomena of 
the text: 







A 1 is the author's original M8. 

Bl is a tnuirtcript by another hand with 
some acci<lent«il omissions and, of course, slips 
of the pen. From this transcript was printed 
the Quarto of 1597, Q 1. 

A 2 is the author's original M8. revised by 
himself, with corrections and additions, inter- 
linear, marginal, and on inserted leaves. 

B 2^ is a copy of the revised MS., made by 
another hand, prol)ably after the deiith of the 
author, and i^erhajw a very shoi-t time before 
1623. As the stage directions of the Folio, 
which was pi-inteil from B 2, are more precise 
and ample jis a rule than those of the Quarto, 
we may infer thJit the transcript, B 2, wjus 
m;ide for the library of the theatre, perhaps 
to take the ]jhice of the original which had 
become worn by use, for Rv-tuvrd III. con- 
tinued to be a ]M)puIar acting play. Some 
curious, th<»ugh not frequent, coincidences l>e- 
tween the text of the Folio and that of the 
Quarto of l(i02, Q3, lead us to supjMwe that 
the writer of B 2, had occasionally recourse to 
that Qujirto to supplement passages which, by 
its being frayed or stained, hjwl l)ecome illegi- 
ble in A ±" Tliey go on to say: "Assuming 
the truth of this hyfjothesis, the object of an 
Editor must lie to give in the text as near an 
approxinmtion ;is possible U) A,* rejecting from 
F 1 .all that is <lue to the unknown writer of 
B2 and su])])lying its place fnmi Q 1, whicli, 
em>rs of ]>en and press a])art, certainly came 
from th(» hand of Shakespeare. In the con- 
struction of our text we have steadilv borne 
this principle in mind, only deviating from it 
in a few inst-inces where we have retiiined the 
expanded version of the Folio in preference to 
the biiefer vei-sijrti of the Quarto, even when 

1 It b clearly so printed in my copy (Kd. 1SG4): but it 
may be a misprint for A3. 

we incline to think that the earliei* form is 
more terse and therefore not likely to have 
been altered by its Author. Our reason is this: 
as the Folio version ci>ntuins substantiallv that 
of the Quarto and as the question does not 
aflmit of a jiositive decision we prefer the risk 
of putting in something which Shakes]>eai'e 
did not to that of leaving out something which 
he did write. C-aitcris jMiribus we have ado])ted 
the reading of the Quarto." 

The conclusion thus arrived at seems rather 
inconsistent with the facts advanced in their 
theory; since what an edit<ir should aim at is 
to niiike the text Jis nearly as possible identical 
with A 2, which, according tx) the theory of 
the Cambridge wiitors, wjis Shake8f>eare's mm 
revi^n of his original tf*.vt. We have there- 
fore baaed our text uj)on that of F. 1, only 
adopting such re.idings from (^. 1 as the sen.**c, 
or metre may seem to re<piire. There is no rea- 
son to supiKwe, from what we know of Shake- 
S])eiire8 natural objection to have his i)lays 
printed, as long as the acting right was veste<l 
in his own company, that Q. 1 was, in this 
cjise, an authorized transcript fn«n his original 
text; and we cannot agree with the C-aml)ridge 
edit<^rs that any superiority po8ses.sed by either 
text is, on the whole, to l)e assigned to the 
Quarto nvther than to the Folio. 

It is much easier to find fault with the 
theories of others u])on this difficult question 
than to ])roj)Ound any more sjitisfactorj' theory 
one's self. It is highly j)n>Kable that it is 
owing to the \evy extraonlinary popuhirity 
of this play that so many (lis('iv])ancies aiv 
found between the text of i^, 1 and F. 1. The 
former must have l)een j)ublishe<l within a 
comparatively shoit time after the first pi*«>- 
duction of the play. It has alivady l)een ol>- 
8erve<l tlhit, from what we know of the his- 
tory of the other (Quartos, it is very inipn>l>- 
able that the Fii'st Quarto of Richanl III. was 
printed with the sanction or under the su|)er- 
vision of the author, and not from a coj»y ol>- 
t'lined by more or less surreptitious means. It 
is evi<lent that, whatever else it mny Ik*, Q. I 
could not have been the ])lay as it w;is actetl 
when Shakespeare was one of the leading 
meml.>ei*s of the Ijonl (^iamlx*rhiin's Com- 
pany; thiit is to Kiy, it was not the ])lay as 


tiiially revi^ied by him. It i« a very suHpicious 
circumstance that the words "greatly aug- 
ment^" should appear on the title-page of 
Q. 3, as there is nothing in the text to justify 
such adeacrij)tion; and it certainly looks as if 
the printer liad been promised a copy of the 
play, <M reris*nl by the author, with the addi- 
tions that he had made in the course of its 
.*<uccessful cai"eer. In the case of Romeo and 
Juliet Q. 2 has uiK>n its title-page " Newly 
correcte<l, augmented, aii(i amende<l;" and it, 
undoubtedly, contains Shakespeare's own re- 
visir>ns, and is the chief authority for the text 
as now recognized. Also in the case of Ham- 
let, the surreptitiously printed Quarto of 1603 
w;ls more than usually defective; and Q. i2 
(lf>04X wliich is the best and fullest text of 
the play we have, hjis upon its title-page 
'* Newly imprinted and enlarged to almost as 
much againe as it wiis, according to the true 
and perfect coppie." 

With regiird to the Cambridge editors, who, 
in their text, adhere with almost fanatical 
reverence to Q. 1 in the cases where the dif- 
ference between it and F. 1 are unimixji-tant, 
and, in some cases, where the advantage cer- 
tainly seems to be with the latter — even they 
acknowle<lge that the text of F. 1 is very often 
preferable, and that it contains corrections and 
a^iditions which must have l)een made by 
Shak»*spi»are himself. How, then, are we to 
aci-ount for the fact wliich must be frankly 
adniitte<l that, in some cases, the reaxling of 
F. 1 is manifestly wrong, and that in many of 
these ciises we are able to correct the misttike 
by the aid of Q. 1 ? Some of these mistakes, of 
course, are mere errors of the transcril>er of 
the MS. or of the printer. But a large balance 
remains which cannot be so explained. Un- 
fortunately R|)ace does not allow us here to go 
into a minute analysis of the differences ])e- 
tween Q. 1 and F. 1. In the case of one scene 
t^iken haj)hazard we have done so; but we 
must refer our readers to the lat« Mr. Spe<l- 
ding's a<lmirable paper in the New Shakspere 
SiKfietv's Tran»?u!tions, 1875 (p. 1-75), with 
nearly all of which, especially the concluding 
piragraph, we most cordially agree. Mr. P. 
A. Daniel, in his Introduction to the Facsimile 
H'-print of Q. 1 , has most patiently analysed the 

differences between Q<|. l-fi and F. 1 ; and he 
comes to the conclusion that F. 1 wiis j)rinted 
from a copy of Q. 6, altered " in accortlance 
with the theatrical MS. which the ti-anscriber 
had before liim." The arguments by which 
he reaches this conclusion are worthy of the 
closest attention, though we cannot agree with 
him on all j)oints. But even he admits that 
an e<litor should take F. 1 "as the basis of his 

We ciin oidy here suggest some facts which 
may pai-tially explain the difticidty above 
mentioned. In order to foiin an idea of what 
a i)layhou8e copy of a play was in the time of 
Shakespeare, one ought U\ 8t»e the MS. copy 
of some comedy Jicted by one of the travel- 
ling coniiwinies in Italy. Tlie stige is, after 
all, a veiy conservative institution. Some 
fifteen or sixteen years ago, if not now, in 
Italy the theatre-coi)y of a play w.'us, except 
for modern handwriting, quite as confused 
as the playhouse copy would be in the time 
of Shakespeare. The MS. is written on both 
sides of the paper, with only a narrow mar- 
gin left, in which the stage-directions and the 
"calls" of the various actors are marke<l, ex- 
actly as we find them in the few old ])layhou8e 
copies that remain to us of dnimas acted in the 
seventeenth century. This one copy serves 
for the prompter and stage- manager, and from 
it all the i)arts have t> be copied. It is easy 
to see how, in the cimrse of the long career of 
a successful ])lay which, if not acted many 
times in succession, would l>e frequently re- 
f)eated at intervals, this MS. would get ter- 
riblv dama<?ed. Some of the leaves would 
have to 1^ restored by the prompter, or by 
some copyist in the company; and it is pos- 
sible that, in recopying these damaged sheets, 
cei-tiin lacunte might have to be filled up 
from the actors' parts, or even from memory; 
and in tliis way, although the prompter may 
be supposed to have known nearly every line 
of the piece by heart, verlxal eiTors might 
ejisily creep in ; as they might also, in cases 
where some actor's \M\ri was used for refer- 
ence, copied perhaj)s, in his own not too legible 
handwriting. It may be that some of the 
discrepancies in the text of Richard III. arose 
from the fact that the actors had made some 



alterations without the sanction of the author, 
and, perhaps, during his temporary absence. 
Shakespeare assures us in Hamlet (iiL 2. 42- 
50) that he had a very great objection to what 
is technically known as " gagging." But every- 
one, who has had any practical experience of 
theatres, knows how difficult it is to prevent 
the actors either slightly changing the words of 
the text, or boldly inserting words of their own. 
Indeed the text of some plays of comparatively 
modem date, notably those of Sheridan, which 
have held the stage for some time, have suf- 
fered considerably from these unauthorized 
alterations. If w^e bear in mind these circum- 
stances, and remember at the same time that 
Richard HI. was, undoubtedly, one of Shake- 
speare's earliest plays, and had, perhaps, longer 
and more coutinueil popularity than any other 
of his dramatic works; that it must have 
been revised and amended by him from time 
to time; and that these revisions and amend- 
ments were not to be obtained, otherwise than 
surreptithics/j/, by the printer of any of the 
Quartos, we shall cease to wonder at the very 
numerous discrepancies which occur between 
the texts of Q. 1 and F. 1. After examining 
the analysis of these discrefxiucies we must 
come to the conclusion, in the absence of any 
direct evidence to the contraiy, that the text 
published by the etlitor of F. 1 Ijears a closer 
resemblance to the real text of Shakespeai-e 
than the copy which the enterprising Mr. 
Andrew "IVise managed to get hold of in the 
year 1597. 

To sum up the suggestions here put forward : 
(1) It will be seen, from what is said further 
on as to the date of this play, that it is uncer- 
tain how long before 1597 it was acted, but tliat 
it waa one of S}iakesi)eare's earliest playa We 
know it to have been Shakespeare's custom to 
revise liis earliest plays when lie considered it 
worth the trouble. He revised and made ad- 
ditions to Love's Labour 's Lost, Tlie Taming 
of the Shrew, aitd Romeo and Juliet. We may 
therefore be pretty certain that, in the case of 
so {)opular a play as Richard III., he would re- 
vise and, perliaps, re-revise it. (2) Neither Q. 1 
nor F. 1 represents the original i)lay of Richard 
III. ; but both represent amende<l versions; the 
alterations and additions, in both cases, liaviug, 

to a very great extent, been made by the au- 
thor himself. (3) The publishers of the various 
Quartos before 1623 could not obtain the 
greater portion of the amendments and altera- 
tions made from time to time by the author. 
These were to be found only in the theatre- 
copy of the play — what we should call the 
stage-manager's copy — and F. 1 was, sul)8tan- 
tially, transcribed from this last copy with a 
few mistakes of the transcriber and of the 
printer. (4) The tattered condition into which 
the playhouse copy fell, owing to constant use, 
necessitating as it did portions of the MS. being 
recopied from time to time, accoiuits for some 
of the errors in F. 1. 

As to the sources from which Shakea)3eare 
derived Richard III., it may be said that he 
owed nothing to the old pLay of Richanlus 
Tertius, and very little if anything to The 
True Tragedy of Richard III. (See note 204.) 
For his historical material Shakes})eare was 
indebted to Holinshed, who, in his turn, copied 
abuost word for word from Hall; and he, on 
his part, "conveyed" the history of the greater 
fjai-t of the reign of Riclianl III. from that 
written by Sir Thoniiis M<»re. We have, as a 
rule, given the quotations from the original 
source, viz. the last-mentioned histor}'. Shake- 
speare himself api)e4ir8 to have used the second 
edition of Holinshed, as he has copied a mis- 
take which oocui-s only in that edition. (See 
note 647.) He also, vei-y pix)biibly, i-eferi-ed to 
The Mirix)r for Magistrates; but he does not 
seem to have derived thence any juiiliculai* 
incidents or exjjressions. 

What is supi)osed to be the earliest allusion 
to Ricliaixl III. occui-s in a collection of epi- 
grams by John Weever, the title-jwige of which 
siiys that it was "Piinted by V. S. for 
Thoniiis Bushell, and are to be | sold at his »1k»p 
at the gieat north doore | of Paules 1599 [ 
(See ShaksjKjre Allusion- Books, P^ I. 1874, 
pp. 181, 182). This is describeil l)y the editor 
(vt supra, p. 181) as a second edition; but 
there is nothing to indicate this fact on the 
original title-jiage, nor is the existence of any 
earlier edition known. As Drake points out 
(vol. ii. p. 371): "The book in question, in the 
collection of Mr. Comb, of Henley, and sujv 
posed to be a unique, was published in 1599, 


at which period, according to the date of the 
priut of him prefixed by Cecill, the author was 
twenty-three years old; but Weever tells ua, 
in some introductory stanzas, that when he 
wrote the poems which compose this volume, 
he was not twenty years old; that he was one 

That twenty twelve months yet did kever knotr, 

cunsequently, these Epigrams must have been 
icritten in 1595, though 7iot printed before 
1599." The epigram contains fourteen lines, 
of which we give the following: — 


Kpiy. 211. Ad Qulielmnm Shakespeare. 

Honie-tong'd Sfiottspeare^ when I saw thine issue, 
I swore ApttUo got them and none other, 

Ko«e-checkt AdUtuis with his amber tresses, 
Faire fire-hot Vfttut charming him to loue her, 
Chatite Lunvtm virgine-like her dresses, 
Prow<l hist-stimg Tarquine seeking still toproue her; 
Jiomea liirhard; more, whose names I know not, 
Their sujrred tongues, and power attractiue beuty 
Say they .are Saints, althogh that Sts they shew not, 
For thousands vowes to them subiectiue dutie. 

It will be observed that this is no direct 
evidence of the fact of Richard III. having 
lieen played at thiH time; for though the allu- 
«ion mfi«t probably is to that play, still it 
might Ik? to Richard II. The first Quarto of 
this jiUiy was entered at Stationers* HaU, 20th 
Oct<»ber, 1597; while Richard II. was regis- 
tered on 29th August of the same year. An- 
other early reference to Richard III. has been 
]w>inted out by Simpson in his Introduction 
to A Warning for Fair Women. In the In- 
duction to that play Comedy has a speech be- 

How some damn'd tyrant to obtain a crown 
.Stabs, hangs, impoisons, smothers, cutteth throats. 
—Simpson's School of Shakspere, vol. ii. p. 242. 

This is the more curious, as occurring in a 
play acted by the company to which Shake- 
M{)eare himself l)elonged, viz. The Lord Cham- 
berUiu's ^rvants. The Warning to Fair 
Women was printed in 1599. We do not 
know bow long it had been acted before. As 
to otlier references, there are five quotations 

from this phiy in England's Parnassus, 1600.* 
There are other contemporary allusions, but 
none which nee*! be mentioned here. 

As far then as direct external evidence goes, 
we know that this play must have been pro- 
duced before 1597, or at least early in that 
year; the title-page of Q. 1 not containing 
any statement which im))lies that it had been 
acted for any length of time previous to its 

On the question of the date of this play 
Mr. Collier, in his Bibliographical Account of 
English Literature (vol. ii. pp. 262, 263), has 
pointed out an allusion which seems indirectly 
to show that Shakespeare's play of Richard 
III. was not in existence in 1593. The ar- 
ticle is on a rare book, the title-page of which 
is " LiciA I or I PoEMES of I Love, in Ho- | 
nour of the admirable \ and singular vertues 
of hia Lady, | to the imitation of the be*t \ 
JMtin poetA, and others. \ Whereunto is added 
the Rising to the | Croune of Richard | the 
third." There are only two copies of this 
work known. It has been reprinted in Gro- 
sart's Miscellanies of the Fuller's Worthies' 
Libi-ary (vol. iii. pp. 76-145), and is by him 
attributed to Giles Fletcher, whether rightly 
or wrongly it is not for us here to inquire. 
There is no date on the title-page of the work ; 
but the letter "to Ladie Mollineux," which 
precedes the poem, is dated 8th September, 
1593. The }ioeiu on Richard III. by the same 
author {ut supra, pp. 146-159) is libsolutely 
devoid of any poetic meiit, and does not con- 
tain a single passage or phniae which would 
seem to have been suggested by Shakespeare's 
play. Richard, who is supposed to speak in 
his own jwrson, complains that whereas 
Shore's wife. Fair Rosamond and Elstreil (see 
Locrine) have all had their soitows treated on 
the stage, he and his reverse of fortune have 
been neglected. The first four lines are : 

The Stage is set, for Stately matter fitte. 

Three partes are past, which Prince-like acted were, 

To play the fourth, requires a kingly witte. 

Els shall my muse, their muses not come nere. 

1 Except in one passage, in which there 1^ a mistake of 
the printer, these passages seem to be quoted from Q. 1 
or Q. 2, though in two of the quotations there are impor- 
tant variations in the text from those Itotli of Qr|. and Ft. 



After Hi^eaking of the three heroines above 
mentioned, he says in the sixth stanza: 

Nor weepe I nowo, as children that have lost, 
. But smylo to see the Poete of this ago: 
Like silly boates in shallowe rivers tost, 

Loosing their paynes, and lacking still tbeir wage, 
To write of women, and of womens falles, 
Who are too light, for to bo fortunes balles. 

He then goes on to relate his own reverse of 
fortune. Ceitainly this would seem to infer 
tliat the writer was not aware of any play on 
the subject of Richard III. then being acted 
on the stage; yet we know that the so-called 
True Tragedy of Richard III., published in 
1594, was acted by *'the Queenes Maiesties 
Players;" and it is generally supposed that 
tliis was an old play which was published on 
account of the then popularity of Shake- 
speare's play ; a conjecture which would cer- 
tainly imply that Shakespeare's play was acted 
Cfirly in L')94, if not in 1593. But it may l>e 
that the enteriirising publisher of The True 
Tnigedy of Richard II L brought out that 
somewhat effete work, }>ecause he heard that 
Shakespeare was prepiiring a play on the sub- 
ject; or, again, it may have been published 
independently, or in consequence of the recent 
pixKiuctions of the two hist parts of Henry VI. 
We do not lind in Henslowe's Diary any 
mention of a representation of Shakespeiire's 
Richard IIL or of any play of that name. It 
would apiHjar that on 12th June, l(i02 (p. 223), 
Henslowe lent £10 to ** bengemy Johnsone, at 
the ajKjyntment of E. Alleyn and Wm. Binle, 
the 24 of June lti02, in earneste of a lK)ocke 
called Richard crockbacke." If Ben Jonson 
ever wrote this play it must have perished, for 
nothing is known of it. There is an undated 
entry in Chettle's handwriting, l)eing a re- 
ceipt for forty shillings "in earnest of the 
Booke of Shoare, now newly to be written for 
the Eiirl of Worcesters players at the Rose" 
(p. 214). This must have been some time 
before the accession of James I. (see note 2, 
same pJige). On the 9th May, 1(503, there is 
an entry of a loan "at the apoyutmeiit of 
Thomas hewod*' (Heywcxxl) "and John Ducke 
unto hariy (-hettell in earneste of a playe 
wherein Shores wiffe is writen." It is not 
known to what plays these two several entries 


refer. Possibly Oiettle assist4.Ml He^'wood in 
revising his jJay of £dward IV. mentioned 
below. But we get no help from Henslowe's 
Diary in determining the date of Shakespeare's 
Richard III. 

The internal evidences of the i)lay itself, 
such as the long pjissages in ^rixofxvOla^ and the 
constant tendency to a bombastic style, cer- 
tainly ix)int to its liaving been written at an 
immature j^eriod of Shake8]jeare's career; but 
the metrical te^sts do not exactly tiiUy with so 
eju'ly a date. However, it must Iw remem- 
bered that the play wiis undoubtedly revised, 
probfibly more than once, by the author. As 
lias been said alx>ve, the present slia|H», in 
which we have it, is certainly not tliat in which 
it fii'st left his hand. 

Of plays on the siimc subject there were 
two Latin ones; one by Thoniiis Legge, acted 
at St. John's C/olIege, Cambridge, 1579, of 
which MS. cojnes existed in the I'nivei'sity 
Library and in that of Emmanuel (College; 
and another, on tlie same subject, which llal- 
liwell describes as a iMX)r imitation of this, by 
Henry Lacey, and which Wiw ficted at Trinity 
C?ollege, 158(>. It is possible that Shakesi)eare 
knew little and troubled himself less about 
these two Liitin plays. What attracted his 
attention to the subject was, jwobably, *The 
True Ti';ige<ly of Richard 111.' We may con- 
clude that this had l)een pUiyed, more or less 
frequently, for two or three yea I'm lief ore it 
Wits printed. The following is tlie title- i>iige: 
"The True Tragedie of Richard the Thinl: 
W^herein is nliowne the death of Kdwaixl 
the fourth, with the smothering of the two 
yoong Princes in the T(»wer: With a la- 
mentiible ende of Shores wife, an example 
f(>r all wicked women. And lastlv the cou- 
iunction and ioyningof the two n<>ble Houses, 
Lanciister an<l Yorke. As it was playd by 
the Queenes Maiesties Players. London 
Printed by Tliomas (Vee<le, and are to be 
sc)ld by William Biirley, at his .shop in New- 
gjite Market, neare Christ Chuix-h doore, 
1594." About this play, alrea<ly alluded 
to, nothing is known as to its authorship (»r 
wt-ige- hi story. The most interesting play l>y 
one of Shakes|)eare's contem]>orarieH, in which 
Richard III. figures as a char;u-ter, is Hoy- 


wocid's Second Part of Edward IV. In this 
l^lay Richard is by no means the hero; the 
tragical end of Jane Shore forming the prin- 
cipal subject, in the pathetic description of 
whose death the author has foreshadowed the 
last scene of his best-known play, A Woman 
Killed Witli Kindness. Both parts of Hey- 
wood's Edward IV. should be read by all stu- 
dents of Shakespeare along with III. Henry 
VI. and Richard III. Hey wood's play was 
printed in 1600, the title being " The Second 
I Part of Kino Edward the Fourth. | 
Containing | his iourney into France, for the 
obtaining of I his right there: | The trecher- 
ous falshood of the Duke of Bur- \ giindie 
and the Constable of France \ vsed agjiinst 
him, an<l his | retume home | againe. | Like- 
wise the prosecution of the historie of M. | 
ShtMxrc ;ind his faire wife | Concluding with 
the lamentable death of them | both." Both 
partff were published together, and, as is stated 
on the title-page, they hail "diuers times beene 
publiquely played | by the Right Honourable 
the Earle <:»f | JJerbie his seniatUs;^' so that they 
pn»bably have been protluced some time 
before that date : they could scarcely have 
precedeil Richard III. There is no sign of 
either author having copied from the other; 
though, of coui-se, interesting resemblances may 
be found between .some of liicharcrs s{)eeches 
in both plays. 

The pieces in The Mirror for Magistrates,* 
before the jieriod of this play, are, in The 
Third Part of that work, numl>er 73, George 
Plantagenet, attributed to Baldwin; 74, King 
Edward the Fourth, by Skelton; 75, I/ord 
Rive^^ attributed to Baldwin; 76, Lord Has- 
tings, by Dolman; 77, The Complaynt of 
Henry Duke of Buckingham, by Sackville; 
79, Richarde Plantagenet Duke of Glocester, 
by Segar; 84, Shore's Wife, by Churchyard; 
this la.Ht one was included in a collection of 
jKiems, 1593, called C-hurchyard's Challenge, 
and is the same poem that apf^eared in the 
original edition of The Minor for Magistrates, 
augmented by twenty-one stanzas. By a curi- 

* The numbers attached to the various pieci 8 are taken 
from the reprint ot this well-known work by Joseph 
Hailewood, 1MI5. and will be found in vols ii. and iii. rc- 

ous mistake Stokes, in his Chronological Onler 
of Shakespeare's Plays, refers to this as a play, 
and calls it Churchyard's (p. 29). Finally, 
there are two pieces in P*. IV. by Richard 
Niccols: 95, Tlie lamentable lives and deaths 
of the two young Princes, Edward the fifth 
and his brother Richard Duke of York ; and 
96, The tragicall life and death of King 
Richard the third. These were written after 
the appearance of Shakespeare's play. The 
most interesting parallel passages in these 
poems and Richard III. will be found quoted 
in the notes. 

There is rather a striking resemblance be- 
tween a ptssage in Richard III.'s first soli- 
loquy (i. 1. 12-15) and a \x)em included in the 
first issue of Ej)igrammes and Elegies by J. 
D. and C. M. and headed Ignoto: 

T am not fashion'd for these amoro\is time», 
To court thy beauty with lascivious rhymes; 
I cannot dally, cajKjr, dance, and sing, 
Oiling my saint with supple sonnetting. 

(See Dyce'a Marlowe, lS7t>, p. 366.) 

It may l>e remarked that this poem does 
not appeiir in the subsequent editions, which 
are Iwth undated; but, on the authority of 
Ritson, the <late of the first edition is gener- 
ally assigned to 1596 (vt supra, Preface, p. 
xxxviii.). The resemblance is not very exact, 
but there is sufficient similarity of expression 
to suggest that the one author might have 
hfid the other's lines in his mind at the time. 
Perhaps this passage may be held by some 
to bear on the question whether this play is 
by tlie same authors as The Contention and 
The True Tnigedy, and was only revised by 
Shake8i)eare. It >vould be interesting to ana- 
lyse the language of Richard III., and to see 
how many peculifir or characteristic phrases 
and words are common to that play and to 
the Second and Third Parts of Henrv VI. 
There are certainly passfiges in Ricliard III. 
which are suggestive of Marlowe's inflated 
style; but whether these }>as8ages were due 
simply to the fact of Shakespeare being, in 
the earlier part of his career, consciously or 
unconsciously, an imitator of the older drama- 
tist, or whether they were due to Marlowe's 
ojien co-operation, we probably never shall 
know. If concordances could be made to the 



works of the Elizabetlian dramatists, they 
would be of infinite assistance in determining 
the question as to the supposed joint-author- 
ship of some of Shakespeare's plays. For 
instance, if we find that in the Second and 
Third Parts of Henry VI. and in Richaid III. 
there are many peculiar words used, and used 
only in these plays by Shakespeare, which 
words are also characteristic of, if not peculiar 
to Marlowe, it would be a considerable piece 
of presumptive evidence that he assisted 
Shakespeare in the composition of all three 
[>layH. Mr. P. A. Daniel has no doubt that 
this play is ^^ the work of the author or authors 
of the Henry VI. series of plays" (ut supra, 
p. iv.). But until we have some very much 
8tn»uger evidence than lias yet been offered 
of the work of any other writer in this play, 
we sliall not attempt to rob Shakespeare of 
the fame which belongs to the author of 
Hichanl III. 


Although ao popular and so frequently acted, 
ji« this play must have been between 1595 and 
1630, very little has come down to us with 
reganl U) the stage history of Richard III. 
during this i)eriod; but there are several con- 
temiK)rary allusions. How closely Burbage 
was iu»8ociated with the part of Richard III. 
ap|>ear8 from the well-known pajRHsige in Bishop 
Corbet's Iter Boreale (written aliout 1(518), in 
which he mentions that his host rode with him 
jiart of the way, on his journey f n)m Nuneaton 
to Coventry, when they |)assed close to Bos- 
worth Field: 

See yee yon wood ? There Richard lay. 
With hia whole army: Looke the other way, 
And loe where Richmond in a bod of gorssc 
Biicampt himsclfe ore night, and all his force: 
UiK)n this hill they mett. Why, he could tell 
The inch where Richmond stood, when Richard fell: 
Hoiiides wliat of his knowledge he co\iId say, 
He had authenticko notice from the Play; 
Which I might gnesse, by's mnstring up the ghoats, 
And polioyes, not incident to hosta; 
But cheifly by that one perspicuous thing, 
Wliere he mistooke a player for a king. 
For when he would have sayd. King Richard dyed, 
And callM -A horse ! a horse !— he Burbidge cry'de. 
CorlMjt's Poems [Gilchrist's Reprint, 1807], 
pp. 193, 194. 


In the journal of John Manningham, 1601, 
under date 2d February and 13th March, 
there is an anecdote — we cannot quote it here — 
in which Burbage is even more strongly iden- 
tified with Richard III. In the Third Part 
of The Return from Parnassus (1601) Bur- 
bage (who is introduced as a character) says 
to Philomusus: ^*I like your face and the pro- 
poi-tion of your Ixxiy for Richard the 3. I 
pray M. PhU, let me see you act a little of it 

Phil. Now is the winter of our discontent, 
Made glorious summer by the sonne of Yorkc. " 
(Macray's Reprint, 1886, pp. 140, 141.) 

The numerous quotati(ms and imitations of 
the well-known line — 

A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse 

are given in note 6.55. The e-arliest al)solute 
mention of the performance of tlie play is 
found in Sir Henry Herbert's Diary, in which 
it is stated that "Richarde the Thirde was 
acted by the K. players at St. James, wher 
the king and queene were present, it l>eing 
the first play the queene sawe since her >[.*•" 
delivery of the Duke of York. 1633." 

As w^e have alrea<ly said, thei*e is no men- 
tion of this play in Henslowe, and none in 
Pepys. Betterton does not seem ever to have 
played Shakesiwiai'e'H Richanl III., though 
he i-epresented the chamcter of Riohanl III. 
in The English Princes-s, by Caryll, in 1667. 
In fact, we can find no record of the i^eifor- 
mance of this play till Cibbei-'s hybrid conijx)- 
sition was produced, when "it seems to have 
been printed without the names of the i)er- 
formers to the D. P." (Genest, vol. ii. p. 105). 
This version, to the eternal discredit of the 
national intelligence and taste, held the stiige 
for over one hundred and fifty years. As we 
purpose giving a reprint of Cibl)ei-'s version, 
with an analysis of its several com]>onent 
parts, it is not necessiiry, at this {Mint, to say 
anything more about it. 

It would be im])ossibIe to go thi-ough the 
list of the many celebrated acti>i*s who liave, 
moi*e or less, made their mark in the ])art of 
Richartl. Among the most celebrate<l names 
are those of Quin, Ryan, BaiTV, Sheridan, Hen- 
derson, Kemble, and Kean. (iamck, as is well 
known, made his first api^earance at Good- 


man's Fields in this character. The playbill 
is as follows: "October 19, 1741, | Goodman's 
Fields. | At the Theatre in Goodman's Fields, 
this day will be performed, | A CONCERT 
I Divided into two parts, | ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ 
I N.R Between the Two Parts of the Con- 
cert will be presented an Historical Play, 
caUeii the | Life and Death of \ King Richard 
the Third. | Containing the distresses of K. 
Henry VI. | The artful acquisition of the 
Crown by King Richard, | The Munler of 
Young King Edward V, and his Brother in 
the Tower, | The landing of the Earl of Rich- 
mond, I And the Death of King Richard in 
the memorable Battle of Bosworth Field, 
being the last that was fought between the 
Houses I of York and Lancaster; with many 
other true Historical Passages. | The Part of 
King Richard by A gentleman, | (who never 
appeared on any stage)." &c. &c. There is no- 
thing to be astonished at that Garrick should 
prefer Cibber's deformation to the original 
play; but we cannot help regretting that 
Edmund Kean should have fallen into the 
«ame error of taste. It may be doubted whe- 
ther any real Shakespearean part ever suited 
Garrick ho well as the Cibberized Richard III. 
On 27th May, 1776, at Drury Lane, Mrs. 
Siddons played Lafly Anne for the first time. 
On 5th June of the same year Garrick acted 
Richard for the last time; Mrs. Siddons again 
representing Ijady Anne, being her last per- 
formance that season. It has been remarked 
tli&t this great actress, on her first appear- 
ance in London, seems to have made no im- 
pheasion whatever on her audience. Garrick 
himself is 8ai<l to have thought very little of 
her talent. 

Among the many performances of this play 
one or two are perhaps worth recording. 
Od Ist April, 1810-11, Richard IIL was 
I>layed with John Kemble as Richard, and 
f liarles Kemble as Richmond. John Kemble 
had re\T«ie<l CHbber's version; but, unfortu- 
nately, he had restored little if any of Shake- 
speare's text On 12th June, 1813, Betty 
made his hist appearance on the stage as 
Richarrl III. He was no longer a child, and 
KeiDs to liave lost his attraction for the public. 

Richard III. was one of Kean's most popu- 
lar impersonations; but it may be doubted 
whether his greatest qualities were so for- 
cibly displayed in this character as in Othello, 
Hamlet, or Lear. Like everything he did, 
Kean's conception of the cliaracter was essen- 
tially original and carefully thought out ; all 
the finest portions of it were those in which 
Shakespeare's jx)etry had been untouched by 
the deforming hand of Cibber. It seems that 
in his first season at Drury Ljine, 1813, 1814, 
Kean acted the part twenty-five times, and 
in his next season at the same theatre also 
twenty-five times: the only other play of 
Shakespeare he played as often in that season 
being Macbeth. 

On 12th March, 1821, at Covent Gartlen, a 
memorable attempt was made t<» restore to 
the stage Shakespeare's play of Richanl III. 
For this version Macready was probably re- 
s])on8ible. Genest says (vol. ix. p. 107) that 
"tlie fii*8t two acts went ofl" with great ap- 
plause;" but, on the whole, the piece was 
received coldly by the audience, and was only 
rei)eated once, on the 19th of the same mouth, 
and then laid aside. Macready played Richard ; 
Yates, Buckingham; Abbott, Richmond; and 
Egei*ton, Clarence, who, with Mrs. Faucit as 
Queen Mai'garet, seems to have made the 
greatest success in the piece. On the 29th Janu- 
ary, 1877, fortunately for those, to whom the 
true interests of dramatic art and the name of 
Shakespeare are dear, Ricliard III., ** arranged 
for the Stage exclusively from the author's 
text," was produced at the Lyceum Theatre. 
This is not the place to speak of the chorus of 
approval with which this restoration of Shake- 
speare's text was received. Even those, who 
were not in any way admirer's of Mr. Irving, 
hati nothing but praise for his Richard ; while 
the audience saw tliat the text of Shake- 
sf>eare, properly abbreviated and arranged, 
formed a much more dramatic play than Gib- 
ber's alteration. 


The great jwpularity of this play in Shake- 
speare's time is undoubted, and cannot be 
overlooked by any critic attempting to esti- 



mate its merits. Whether the number of 
early editions published of it is a proof that, 
during the first thirty years of the seven- 
teenth century, Richard III. was held to rank 
equally high, both as a hterary work and as 
an acting play, is uncertain; but there can be 
little doubt that no work of Shakespeare's was 
more generally read, with the exception of 
the Poems, than Richard III. and those one 
or two other plays which came nearest to it in 
popularity. In later times its literary merits 
cannot have been very highly esteemed, or 
Oibber's miserable version would not have 
been allowed to hold the stage so long, and 
indeed to have been the only form in which 
this i)lay was known by most of Shakesi)eare's 

When one comes to study the play care- 
fully, and to read it through from l)eginning 
to end, one sees that the impression it pro- 
duces upon one, when acted, is, after all, not 
far from the right one. Richard himself is, 
in reality, the play. We have, in {mssing, a 
strong sympathy for the young princes; we 
feel a mild piing of pity for the other numer- 
ous victims of Richard's merciless ambition: 
but it is the many-side<l, resolute, and intel- 
lectual villain that really absorbs our atten- 
tion, preiKcupies our interest, and, in spite of 
his crimes, almost takes by storm our sym- 
pjithies. A very Proteus he is, morally si)eak- 
ing: now an anient lover, the next moment a 
plausible atiitesman, then a generous and dot- 
ing friend; now a religious hypocrite and 
next a daring soldier. It is the ever-changing 
variety of his wickedness that fascinates 
us. Though he commits every crime which 
the hero of the coarsest melo<lrama ever com- 
mitted, there is nothing vulgar alK)nt him. 
Endowed l)y nature with the dnimatic tem- 
perament in its highest degree, he is such a 
sufHirb actor — and he knows it — that he can 
sinudate the most elevated sentiments, the 
most imssionate emotions, with such wonder- 
ful superficial truth, that we feel he might de- 
ceive the (k'vil himself; to say nothing of the 
weak and silly women or the l)lindly self- 
8e(;king men \\\yoi\ whom he practises his 

With the exception of Margaret, Sliake- 


speare has not bestowed much care upon the 
other characters of the play; yet they are 
sufficiently well drawn to interest one, did not 
Richard ovei-sluulow them all. Students, who 
read 8hake8{)eare only, can discourse most 
elo(juently ui>on the grand idea of Margaret, 
the im])ei*sonation of Nemesis, glorying in the 
vengeance whicli falls, in most cases with 
only too much justice, on those who ha<i been 
either principles or accomplices in the rebel- 
lion against her late royal husband, in the 
murder of her darling child, and in all the 
horrible acts of cruelty which the Yorkist 
r>arty, ultimately triumi>hant in the long civil 
wiirs, had perpetrated. But when the play is 
bn>ught to the tnie test of a play, — when it is 
acted — were Margaret to be represented by one 
who had inherited all the tfdent and re[)uta- 
tion of a Siddons, adde<l to the i)re8tige of a 
popular favourite at the present day, no one 
would take much interest in her, or regard her 
otherwise than as something vi a bore, who 
interferes with the main action of the drama. 
Truth to tell, tlu^re is no female character in 
Richard 111. that can interest one, dramatic- 
ally speaking. 8hakes]>eare hjis subonlinated, 
so ruthlessly, every other one of the Di'amatis 
Persona? to the centnd figure, Richard, that 
the wrongs of Elizaljeth and (►f Anne make but 
little impreasion upon us, so angry are we at 
the weakness with which they succumb to the 
wily ails of Richard. They accept his simula- 
tions for realities so blindly, that the audience 
cannot reproach themselves because thetf are 
equally deceived. If those, whose dearest ones 
he hail so treacherously muniered, can forgive 
him, why shoidd not the spectat^im do so; for 
they can have no |x«r8onal feeling against him, 
and are, moreover, dazzled by his intellectual 
brilliancy and by the imiKJsing vigour of his 
chamcter ? Margaret alone resists him, and 
never fiinches in her virulent denunciations of 
his crimes. Shakespeare thix>ws an unneces- 
sjiry monotony into her cursing. She is al- 
ways declaiming, as it were, in the same key; 
and we should be more than moit;d if thewJ 
reitenited cui-ses, this ever-flowing torrent cf 
imprecation, did not weary us. We furgtt 
that she wiu* ever young and handsome. We 
forget how nobly she »t<MKl by her son, when 


with well-meaning but feeble aiui- 
uld have sacriiiced his boy's just 
e cause of peace. We have not seen 
f witli invincible courage the shat^ 
ant of a defeated army, or o{)posiug 
ent brutality of crowds of men the 


courage of a true woman's heart 
e this wild, half-maniacal, old wo- 
*utly cursing, or triumphing in the 
ition of a too-patient Providence, 
5 no active part, as f^ar as we am 
iging about that retribution. To 
Margaret is an impressive figure 
it, to the spectator of the acted 
only a gloomy kind of chonis, ])ix>- 
rith tediously ekborated indigna- 
I that we are on ttaiter-hooks to see 
ippen. Of tlie second and third 
euiT VI. Margaret is indeed the 
it of thi» pLiy she can never Ik.*. 
B few even of Shakespeare's earlier 
e<]ual as Kichai-d III. The jK^et's 
Iramatist, is nowhere shown in a 
'kable degive than in the skill, with 
las managed to make a character, 
ly repulsive as tliat of Richard, in- 
Jid even, to a ceilain degree, sym- 
his audienc^e. His first a])pearance 
7 is most artfully contrived. The 
uences at once with his entrance — 
the gi*eat mistake, we may remai'k, 
abcmiinable vei-sion. Sliakespeai'e 
his play with Richard's soliloquy, 
le at once enchains our attention. 
r outset, he brings into prominence 
r of the character, as well as the 
isolation, in which Richanl's phy- 
mity, coupled with a strong and 
consciousness of his own mental 
over all around him, h.'is i)laced 
jer, on the contrary, commences 
of tiresome stuff spoken by char- 
liom we tiike no interest; and he 
le sympathy, which Richai-d's so- 
rht create for him, bv exhibiting' 
munler of Kin;' Hem v. Shake- 
• wiH<*r, aft^i-r a shurt scene of 
xicrisv, first between Richard and 
id then with Hastings, brings us 
le audacious love scene with Anne; 

in which the amazing powers of simulation^ 
and the almost su[)ernatural strength of will 
that distinguisli Ricliard, are brought into 
the strongest prominence, illumined by the 
dazzling fUshes of that bitter ironical humour 
which, spite of ourselves, we cannot help en- 
joying. Of course, if one stops, but for a few 
moments, to measure Richard by the moral 
standard of the decalogue, we have nothing 
but horror and grave condemnation for him; 
but, like Goetlie's Mephistopheles, there is 
such a reckless audacity about his wickechiess, 
such a brilliant force in his sarcasm, that, as 
long as he is not ordering its to execution, or 
scathing us with his iix)ny, we can only ad- 
mii*e instead of reprobating his utter immor* 
ality. A hyjKXjrite to everyone else, he is at least 
sincere to himself. He makes no show — when 
he bares what there is left to him of a soul — of 
pretending to any of the gentler viitues; self- 
reliance, courage, and iron will are all there; 
devoted, indeed, to the worst of ends, but de- 
voted with such fearless deteimination that 
we forget, for a moment, the monstrousness 
of his aim. Whether he is making love to 
the i)retty widow over the boily of her late 
husband, or affecting sympathy with the 
brother whom he has l>etniyed to death; 
whether smiling the basilisk's smile over his 
unhappy nephews, or cajoling Hastings, or 
]x>uring out his ccuifidences into the tickled 
ears of Buckingham ; whether he is playing a 
religious farce, 8Ui>ported by two bishops, for 
the l>enefit of the thick-skulled citizens, or 
stiinding a triple fire of cui*ses from three 
angiy women ; whether giving directions, with 
mjirvellous promptitude, for the defeat of the 
rebellious Buckingham, or at bay before the 
a<lvancing forces of Richmond ; even in the 
] banning and execution of his most atrocious 
crimes, Richanl is always a man. One ciin- 
not help feeling what a bi*ave scoundrel he is. 
lliere is nothing of the |)ettifo.irger, nothing 
of the midnight assiissin, or the secret jiois- 
oner, about liim. His crimes are daringly 
defiant alike of man and of iUaX. One cannot 
help thinking that, if once he were st:cure in 
the ]»osition which he had gsuned by such au- 
dacious criminiility, he would make a splendid 
ruler of men, and, })erhaj>s, in some senses, a 



great king. This glamour which encircles 
Richard is created by Shakespeare's magic 
touch. While he apparently adopts the ex- 
tremest hostility of tlie most densely bigi>ted of 
the old chroniclers in his views of Richard's 
character, yet so humorous and so dramatic is 
Shakespeai-e's creation that, paiudoxical as it 
may seem, we have more symjiathy with his 
Richiuxl than with the martyi* U) malignity 
and slander, which such a devote<l admirer as 
Buck would make of the sucx^essful usuqier. 
When young Richmond, the representative of 
outrage* 1 humanity, the avenger of women 
done to death by the slow torture of cnielty 
and of childi'en iMuwly niurdere<l in their sleep, 
comes on the H<.*ene, with his small btnly of 
devoted but rather timid followei-s, quaking 
in their shoes at the very thought of the wild 
boar whose foi*ces they are going to att'ick, 
our sympathies are naturally with him. lliis 
heroic champion of the House of IjJinoaster 
gives no sign, however slight, of developing 
into the monster of avarice that Henry VII. 
sulisetiuently Wc^ime; his character iH as ad- 
mirable as modesty and counige can make it; 
yet, somehow, we feel that, when Richard 


awakes from that fearful dream, with the 
prophetic death-sweat of agony on his bixiw, 
as he nerves himself- for the last struggle; 
when he utters tliat final defiance of the 
Great To-Be: 

Coiuicience is but a word that cowards use, 

we feel, indeed, blood-stained muixlei'er though 
he be, that ^^a thousand hearts are great within 
his bosom." We are conscious that the cuitaiii 
is about to descend on the last act of his shoi*t 
and feverish reign ; we know that it is time 
Heii veil's long -delayed vengeance overtook 
this Titanic sinner: yet there is a kind of 
doubtful feeling in our hearts whetlier, Jtfter 
all, we should not have thi-own in our lot by 
the side of this wild beiist bix)ught to bay, 
inste;ul of with his more fortunate enemies 
who are hunting him to death. Shakespeaiv 
ni;htlv forbure to show us the naked IxhIv 
flung like the carcass of a sheep across a hoi-se 
and cast by the roadside unburie<l: f«»r \\v has 
done enough to make us feel, while we cry 
**God bless King Henry!", that Bosworth Field 
hail been fatal to one who, with all his vices, 
showed himself, to the last, a brave man. 


Scene I. fModoii. A gtrwt. 
Enter Gloster. 
<ilo. Now w the wiiiUr of our liiscoiiteut 
M&Je glurious suniiner by this siin of York;' 
Aiicl all th(; clouils that lour'd ujon our house 
In the (le«p buHom uf the ocean buried. 
Now are our brows bound witli victorious 

Our bruiaed arms huiig u[) for nionumeuta;* 
Our Ht^ni alaniniH chaiig'd to merry meetiiigB, 
Our dreadful iiinrehes to delightful meatiiirea. 
<irim-vu«kgd war hath amooth'd hia wrinkled 

A ml now — instead of mounting bartied ' 

To fright the soula of fearful' ailveisariea — 
IK-^ cajiers uinibly in a laily's cluunber 
To the laxL-ivioUN pleasing of a lute. 

' Thit mn nfrom. i.e. BilwutI; ui illuKou to hll 
luilEe. ' Utaunitnli. memorial*. 

' Frmxi, fnnheail. ' BaTbtd. citpiirlaoneil (or wu. 

But I, that am not ulinp'd for Hjxirtive' trickK, 
Nor maile t« conrt an aniomuB looking-glaHs; 
I, that nm nidely gtarap'd,' and want love's 

To strut before a wanton ambling iiyniph; 
I, that am ciktnii'd of tliia fair projHjrtion, 
Cheated of feature* by dissembling nntuiv, 
Defonu'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time w 
Into thia breathing world, si-ani; half ui:irie 

And that so lamely and unfaKhionable, 
That dogH bark at nie aa I halt by them;— 
Why, I, in this wenk pipiJig time of jteiivi'. 
Have no delight'* to jiass away the time, 
UnlesH to Hpy my shadow in the mm, 
And di'Hcant on mine own deformity: 
Aiul therefore— ai nee I cannot prove a lover. 
To entertain" thetie fair wetl-»|)"iken ciHy«— 
I aiu deteniiined Ui prove a villain, .m 

And hate Uie idle plenaures nf tliew' daVM. 

ACT I. Scene 1. 


ACT I. Soeue 1. 

Plots have I laid, inductions* dangerous, 32 
By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams, 
To set my brother Clarence and the king 
In deadly hate the one against the other: 
And, if King Edward be as tnie and just 
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous, 
This day should Clai"ence closely be mew'd- 

About a prophecy, which says that G 
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. 40 
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul : — here CLir- 

ence comes. 

Enter Clarence guard^id^ and Brakenburv. 

Brother, good day: what means this armed 

Tliat waits ujwn your grace i 

Clar. His majesty, 

Tendering' my person's safety, hath a])- 

This conduct* to convey me to the Tower. 
(Jlo. Upon what cause ? 
Clar, Because my name 

is George. 
(ilo. Alack, my lortl, that fault is none of 
He should, for that, commit your godfathei's: — 
''I^O, belike his majesty hath some intent 
^That you shiiU be new- christen'* 1 in the 
< Tower. ] 00 

But what's the mattei\ Clarence? may I 
know '\ 
Clar. Yea, Richard, when I know: for 1 
As yet I do not: but, as I ciin leani, 
He hearkens after prophecies and dreams; 
And from the cross-row plucks the letter (i. 
And says a wizard told him that by G 
His issue disinherited should l»e; 
And for^ my name of George l>egins with G, 
It follows in his thought that I am he. oo 

; Q These, as I learn, and such hke toys® as these, 
'^^Have mov'd his highness to commit me now. ] 
tllo. Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by 
women: — 
T is not the king that sends you to tlie Tower; 
My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 't is she 

1 //irfi^fio/is-be^Duinipi (of M'lieiiie»). 

- Mffic'd, shut. 3 Tenderiuff, regnrdfiil of. 

♦ Conduct, escort. * For, since. * Toj/m, trifles. 


That tempers him to this extremity." (k» 

Was it not she, and that g<Kxl man of worship,^ 
Antony Woodvile,® her brother there. 
That made him send Lord Hastings to the 


From whence this present day he is deliver'd ( 

We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe. 

Clar. By heaven, I think there's no man 

is secure 71 

But the queen's kindred, and night-walking 

Tliat trudge betwixt the king and Misti'eai 

Q Heard ye not what an humble suppliant 
Lorfl Hiistings wjis to her for his deliveiy? ; 
67a Humbly complaining to her deity • 
Got iliy lord chamberlain his liberty. ] 
I '11 tell you what, — 1 think it is our way,^® 
If we will keep in favour with the king, 
To l>e her men, and wear her livery: 80 

Q The jealous o'en^'orn widow and herself, 
Since that our brother dubb'd them gentle- 
Are mighty gossips ^^ in this monarchy. ] 

Brak. 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. 
O'lo. Even so; an please your worsliip. 
You may partake of ^^ any thing we say: 
We s{)eak no treason, man; — we say the king 
Is wise and virtuous; and his noble queen n 
Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous;— 
We say tliat Shore's wife hath a pretty foot, 
A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a {tassing pleasing 

And that the queen's kin are made gentle- 
How siiy you, sir? can you deny all this? 
Jh-aL With this, my lord, m^-self have 

nought to da 
O'lo. Naught to do with Mistress Shore I 1 
tell thee, fellow, 

7 Tempers him to thu extremity, moulds him, iK*r8Uft(l«^ 
him t<) this severity. " Wor$hip. w«irlh 

* Woodvile, pronounced as a trisyllable, Wooditile. 
*" It u our xrait. our course is. 
11 Gogrip*. goilmothers. i.e. patronsi 
>^ Partake qf, i.e. hear. 

' with her, excepting 


He that doth 

Were beat to do it secretly, ftloDe. 100 

Brili. What one, my lord J 
Oh. Her huBbaud, knave: — wouldst thou 

betray me? 
£rai. Beseech your grace to pardon me; 
and, withaJ, 
Forbear your conference with the noble duke. 


Clar. We knov thy chatge, Brakeiibury, 

and will obey. iw 

Oh. We are the queen's abjects,* and muat 

Brothtr, farewell: I will unt4 the king; 
And whatsoe'er you will employ me in,— 
Were it to call King Edward's widow 

I will perfoim it to enfranchise^ you. tis 

Meantime, this dMp disgrace in' brotherhood 
Touches me deeper than you can imagine. 
Clar. I know it pleaaeth neither of uh 
well. m 

Glo. Well, your imprinonment ^aU not be 
I will deliver you, or else lie* for you; 
Meantime, have patience. 

A'do^f = lUDKbtliieai. irkliHln«*. 
fik/rancAiM. Ubcntc. ' lAt. b* imprlMticd 

C/iir. I must perforce : 

farewell, [Ki-miit Clareivx, Brakenbury, 
and Ovarii. 
Oh. Go, tread the path tliat thou shalt 
ne'er return, 
Simple, plain Clarencei^I do love thee so, 
That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, 
If heaven will take the present at our 
hands. — ISO 

But who comes here? the new-del iver'd Haa- 



ACT I. 8oeiie 1. 


ACT I. Scene i 

Enter Hastings. 

Hoist. Good time of day uuto my gracious 
lord I i->2 

Oh. As much unto my good lord chamber- 
Well are you welcome to the open air. 
How hath your lordship brook'd imprison- 
Jlaat, With patience, noble lord, as prison- 
ers must: 
But I sliall live, my lord, to give them thanks 
That were the cause of my imprisonment. 
Qlo, No doubt, no doubt; and so shall C-lar- 
ence too; 
For they that were your enemies are his, 130 
An<l have prevail'd as much on* him «is you. 
lIcMt. More pity that the eagle shouhi l>e 
While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.** 
(tlo. What news abroad ? 
Hast. No news ho bad abroad <is this at 
home, — 
The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy, 
An<l his physicians fear him* mightily. 

(Jlo. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is ba<l 
O, he hath kept an evil diet" long. 
And overmuch consumed his royal f)ers<>n: uo 
Tis very grievous to be thought upon. 
What, is lie in his be<l ( 
liuM. He is. 

(Jlo. Go you before, and I will follow you. 

[E.cit Ifagfuu/s. 
He cannot live, I hope; and must not die 
Till George be p'lck'd with jmst-horse up to 

I'll in, to urge* his hati*ed more to Clarence, 
With lies well steel'iF with weighty argu- 
And, if I fail not in my deep intent, 
Clarence hath not another day to live: 150 
Which done, G(k1 take King Edward to his 

And leave the world for me to bustle in ! 

For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest 

daughter: 153 

What though I killed her husband and her 

The readiest way to make the wench amends. 
Is to become her husband and her father: 
The which will I; not jdl* so much for love 
As for another secret close ° intent, 
By marrying her which I must i-each unto. 
But yet I run before my hoi-se to market : 
Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and 

reigns: iHi 

When they are gone, then must I count my 

gaina [Exit. 

Scene II. The same Another street. 

The corpse of Kino Henry the Sixth U 
brought in, lH>rne in a a open cojin^ at- 
tended by Tresrel, Berkeley, and oth^r 
Gentlemen with halberds gaardinj it; and 
Lady Anne as mourner. 

Anne. Set down, set down your honourable 

load, — 
If honour may be shrouded in a hearse, — 
Whilat I awhile obsequiously^^ lament 
Th' untimely fall of virtuou.^ Lanc^wter. — 

\^The Bearers set dotrn the rojjiiu 
Poor key-cold figure of a holy king I 
Pale ashes of the house of I^'uicaater! 
Thou bloodless remnant of that roval bloo<l I 
Be 't lawful that 1 invocate thy ghost, 
To hear the lanientiitions of jK>or Anne, 
Wife to thy Edwanl, to tliy slaughtered son, 
Stabb'd by the Sidfsanie hand that miide these 

wounds I 11 

QLo, in these windows tliat let forth thy life,. 
I pour the helpless ^^ balm of my poor eyes: — ]> 
O, cui*sed be the hand that ni.'ule these holes! 
C>Mrsed the heart tluit had the heart to do it! 
[Cursed the blood that let this blood from; 

More direful liap l)eti<le^'^ tlisit hated wretch. 
That makes us wretchiHl by the death of thee, ! 
Than 1 can wish to adders, spide]*M, toads, 

1 On = aimiuBt s Mew'd, caged, shut up. 

3 Prey at liberty, ic. arc at liberty to prey (on whom 
they choose). * Fear him, i.e. fear for him. 

» Diet, m<Mle of life. « (Trge, excite. 

' Steel'd, itharpened. 


» .1</=<luito. » GoH, hidden. 

»o Obgeqvunntly, fn»m ohnequies, i.e. fuiierul rite»=a«l»«'- 
cometi the chief mourner at his fuuenil. 
>i Ilelpleu, unhelpful, unuvailinfr. 
1^ Hap betide^ fortune befall. 

8 2. 


ACT I. BotiM 2. 

jepiiig venom'd thing that lives! -20 

have child, abt^tive be it, 
«,* and untimely brought to light, 
ly and unnatural aspect 
t the hopeful mother at the view; 
be heir to his unhappiness ! * ] 

have wife, let her be made 
jrable by the death of him 
, made by my young lord and thee I — 
f towards Chertsey with your holy 

m PauFs to be interreil there ; ao 
' an you are weary of the weight, 
whiles I lament King Henry's coi-se. 
e B^ar*rrs take up the coffin ami move 

Eiiter Gloster. 

ly, you that l)ear the corse, and set 

Vhat black magician conjures up 

{Voted charitable deeds \ 
llains, set down the corse; or, by 

a corse of him that disoWys I 
tnt. My lord, stand back, and let 
>ffin pass. 

manner'd dog ! stand thou, when I 
land : no 

thy halberd higher than my breast, 
nt Paul, I '11 strike thee to my f(X)t, 
n uprm** thee, beggar, for thy Iwld- 
[77/'' Dcan^rn »et domn (hi nffin. 
Vhat, do you tremble? are you all 

»hime you not; for you are mortal, 
il eyes cannot endure the devil. — ] 
aou dreadful minister of hell I 
t but j>ower over his mortal ImhIv, — 
ihon canst not have ; therefore, be 

?et saint, for charity, l)e not so curst.** 
'oul dt'vil, for GikI's s.*ike, hence, 
•ouble us not; .'h) 

uwt made the hap])V earth thy hell. 

ouM. monstrous. 

mie$*, wirketlness. diiipoHition to evil. 

[)Tn time to time. * Adrancf, i.e. raise. 

ipon, kirk. * Cunt, shrewish, frowanl. 

Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. 
If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, 
Behold this jiattem of thy butcherie& — 54 
QO, gentlemen, see, see! deiid Henry's wounds^ 
0(>en their cdngeal'd mouths and bleed ^ 

afresh I — J 

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

dwells: i 

Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural, 60 ; 

Provokes this deluge most unnatural. — > 

O GchI, which this blooil mad'st, revenge his) 

death ! \ 

O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge 

his death ! 
Either, heaven, with lightning strike the/ 

murderer dead ; > 

Or, earth, gape o]x^n wide, and eat him quick,* 
As thou dost swallow up this good king's blocKl, 
Which his hell-govern'd ami hath butchered I ]^ 

(ilo, Laily, y(>u know no rules of charity, 
Which renders good for bad, blessings for 

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

nor man: to 

No bea^t so fierce but knows some touch of pity. 

Glo. But 1 know none, and therefore am no 

Anne, O wonderful, when devils tell the 

tnith I 
(Ho. More wonderful, when angels are so 

Vouchsafe, divine ]>ei*fection of a woman. 
Of these su])]X)seil crimes, to give me leave, 
By circumstance,® but to acquit myself. 
^Anne. Vouchsafe, defus'd*® infection of a 

For these known evils, but to give me leave. 
By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self, so 
iilo. Fairer tlian tongue can name thee, let^ 

me have ) 

Some jmtient leisure to excuse myself. \ 

Anne. Fouler than heart can think thee,^ 

thou canst make ^ 

No excuse current,*^ but to hang thyself. 

7 Exhales, draws forth. " Quick, alive. 

V Dy eircunuftance, circumstnntinlly, in detnil. 
»•> De/uH'd, "wide-spread," or, perhnjin. ''sha|»ele8ii. " 
" Currfut, i.e. that will pass. 


ACT I. 8oeue 2. 


ACT I. Hoene 2. 

Glo. By such despair, I should accuse myself. 
Anne. And, by despairing, shouldst thou 
stand excused 
For doing worthy* vengeance on thyself, 
Tliat didst unworthy slaughter upon others. 
(ilo. Say that I slew them not'j 
Anne. Why, then, they are not dead: 

But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by 
thee. 90 

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

Glo. Nay, he is dead ; and slain by Edward's 

Amie. In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen 
Margaret saw 
Thy murd'rous falchion smoking in his blcxxi; 
The which thou once didst bend against- her 

But that thy brothers beat aside the jwiut. 
Gh. I was provoked by her slanderous 
That laid tlieir guilt upon my guiltless 
Anne. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody 
mind, 99 

That never dreamt on aught but butxjheries: 
Didst thou not kill this king ? 

Glo. I did, I grant ye. 

Anne. Dost gi*Jint me, hedgehog? then, God 
grant me too 
Thou ma^st be damned for tliat wicked deed I 
O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous ! 

Glo. The better for the King of heaven, 

that hath him. 
Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt 

never come. 
Gh. Let him thank me, that holp to send 
him thither; 
For he was fitter for that place than earth. 
Anne. And thou unfit for any place but hell. 
Glo. Yes, one i)lace else, if you will hear me 
name it. no 

A nne. Some dungeon. 
Glo. Your bed-chamber. 

Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber where 

thou liest! 
Gh. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. 
Anne. I hope so. 

1 Worthy, desenred. 

s Bend agaititt, preseut at. 

Glo. I know so. — But, gentle 

Lady Anne, — lu 

To leave this keen encounter of our wits. 
And fall somewhat into a slower^ method, — 
Is not tlie causer of the timeless^ deatlis 
Of these Plantagenets, Henry and £dward, 
As blameful as the executioner? 
Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most 
accurs'd effect* 120 

Glo. Your beauty was tlie cause of that 
Your beauty, that did haunt me in my sleep 
To undertake the death of all the world, 
So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. 
An7ie. If I tliought that, I tell thee, homi- 
These nails should rent*^ that beauty from my 
Glo. Tlie-se eyes could not endure that 
bciuty's wreck; 
You should not blemish it, if I stood by: 
As all the world is cheered by the sun, 
So I by that; it is my day, my life. iw 

Anne. Black night o^ershade thy d.ay, ami 

death thy life ! 
Gfo. Curse not thyself, fair creiitui'e ; thou 

art l)oth. 
A nne. 1 would I were, to be revenged on thee. 
Glo. It is a qu2irrel most unuatunil, 
To be reveng'd on him that loveth thee. 

Anne. It is a quaiTel just and reosomible, 
To be revenged on him that killVl my husband. 
Glo. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy hus- 
Did it to help thee to a better husband. 
A7ine. His better doth not breathe upon the 
earth. I4<) 

Glo. He lives that loves thee better than he 

Anne. Name him. 
Gh. Plantiigenet 

A nne. Why, that was he. 

Gh. The .selfsame name, but one of better 

Anne. Where is he? 

Gh. Hei-e. £[."</* e spits ai him.] Why 
dost thou spit at me? > 

5 Slower, quieter, graver. 
* Effect = do[ng, agency. 

* Titnelesi, untimely. 
^ Rent =^rein\ 


e mortal (loison, fur thy 

<llo. Never came poiaon from so sweet a 

Anne. ^Neverhungpoiaononafoulertoad.^ 

Oiit of 1117 iigbt ! thou do0t infect mine ejes. 

<Ho. niDe eyes, sweet lady, have infected 

ACT I. SonM i. 

Amie. Would they weic baailiBlm, to strike 

thee dead '. iso 

Glo. I would they were, that 1 might die at 

For now they kill me with a living death. 
Thoae eyea of thine from mine have drawn 

Bait tears, 
Sham'd theiraHp6cts w ith store ofchildiahdrops 

These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear, 
Nn, when oiy father York and Edward wept 
To hear' the piteous moan that Rutland made 
When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at 

Nor when thy warlike father, like a child. 
Told the sad story of my fnther's death, i«o 
And twenty times made pause to sob and weep, 
That all the standera-by had wet their cheeks, 
like trees bedaah'd wjtii rain ; in that sad time 

My manly eyes did Hcom an humble tear; 
And what these sorrows could not thence «x- 

Tliy beauty hath, aiul made them blind with 

r learn sweet smooth- 

I never su'd to friei 
My tongue could :: 

ing* words; 
But, now* thy beauty is propos'd my fee. 

ACT I. Soeo« I. 


ACT I. Scene i. 

My proud heart 8ues, and prompts my tongue 
to s}>eak. [^She looks scornfully at him. 
Teach not thy lips such scorn; for they were 
made 17 1 

For kissing, huly, not for such contempt 
If thy reveug^'ful heart cannot forgive, 
LOf here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; 
Which if thou please to hide in this true 

And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, 
I lay it naked to the deadly stroke. 
And humbly beg the death upon my knee. 

[(Jives Iter his sword, and lays his breast 
open, kneeling. 
Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King 

[S/ie offers at his breast iriih his sword. 
But 't wjis thy Iwauty that provoked me. iho 
Nay, now diHi)atch; 'twits I that stabb'd 
young Edwanl, — 

[t<he again offers at his breaM. 
But 't wa« thy heavenly face that set me on. 

[tShe lets fall the strord. 
Take up the sword again, or take up me. 
Anne. Arise, dissembler: though I wiuh thy 
I will not be thv executioner. 

Olo. Then bid me kill myself, and 1 will 
do it. [Kises and takes vp his sword. 

Anne. I have alreailv. 
(jflo. That w/w in thy rage: 

Speak it again, and, even with the word, 
This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love. 
Shall fur thv love kill a far truer love; loo 
To both their dejiths shalt thou be accessarv'. 
Anm'. I would I knew thy heart 
(Jlo. T is figur'd in my tongue. 
Anne. I fear nie both are false. 
(flo. Then never man was true. 
Anne. Well, well, put up your awoixl. 
(Jlo. Sjiy, then, my i>eiue is made. 
Anne. That shalt thou know hereafter. 
Olo. But shall I live in hoi>e ? 
Anne. All men, I hoi)e, live so. 200 

iiln. Vouehsiife to wear this ring. 
Anne. To tike, is not to give. 

\j<he puts on the ring. 
Olo. Tjook, how this ring encompjisseth thy 
Even so thy breast encloseth my ix)or heail; 


Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. 
And if thy i)oor devoted servant may 
But beg one favour at thy gracioxis hand. 
Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. 

Anne. What is it? 

Olo. That it may please you leave these sad 



To him that hath most cause to be a mourner. 
And presently repair to Crosby Place; 
Where — after I have solemnly interred, 
At Chertsey monastery, this noble king, 
And wet his grave with my repentant tears— 
I will with all expedient* duty see you: 
For divers unknown reiisons, I beseech you. 
Grant me this Inion. 

Aitne. With all my heart; and much it joys 
me too 
To see you are become so penitent — »» 

Ti-essel and Berkeley, go along with me. 

O'h. Bid me farewell. 

Anne. Tin more than you deserve; 

But since you teach me how to flattei* you. 
Imagine I liiive said farewell already. 

[Kveu.nt J^ady Anne, Tressel, and Berkrlej/. 

(Jlo. Sii-s, take up the corse. 

(/enf. Towards Chertsey, noble lonlf 

(Jlo. No, to White-Friars; there att^^ml my 
coming. [Exeunt all, exee^tt (Jloster. 

Wjis ever woman in this humour woo'd i 
Was ever woman in this humour won / 
I'll have her; — but I will not keep her long. 
What! I, that kill'd her husband and his 
father, !::»» 

To take her in her heart's extremest hate; 
With curses in her mouth, teal's in her eyes, 
Tlie bleeding witness of her hatred by; 
Having God, her conscience, and these l)ar» 

against me. 
And I no friends to back my suit withal 
But the i)lain devil and dissembling looks. 
And yet to win her, — all the worhl to nothing! 

[ Hath she forgot already that brave prince, 
Edward, her lord, whom I, some thret* months 



StibVd in my angiy moinl at Tewksbury? 
A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman — 

> Thene tad d^tignit =thi% tad work. 
2 Kxiwfient, expeditioua. 


ACT I. Soene H. 

in the prodigality of nature, 242 

yaliant, wise, and, no doubt, right 


nous world cannot again afford: 

I she yet abase her eyes on me, 

dipped the golden prime of this sweet 


de her widow to a woeful bed i 

whone all not ei^iials Edward's moiety? 

that halt, and am mis-sha])en, thus?^ 

edom to a beggarly denier,^ 200 

itake my ])ei*8oii all this while: 

y life, she finds, although I cannot, 

to be a marvellous proper- man. 

X charges for^ a lo<iking-glaMs; 

«rtain* a score or two of tailors 

f fashluns to adorn my body: 

am crept in favour with myself, 

aintain it with some little cost. 2.09 

; 1 '11 turn yon fellow in^ his grave; 

;n retiu'n hiuienting to my love. — 

it, fair sun, till I have bought a ghiss, 

nay see my shadow as I pass, [h^unt. 

E III. The same. A room ifi the 

CEEN Elizabeth, Rivers, and Grey. 

Have patience, madam: there's no 

bt his majesty 

•n recover his accustom'd health. 

f. In that you brook it ill, it makes him 

re, for (.J<jd'8 sake, enterUiin good com- 


eer his gnice with quick" and merrv 


'z. If he were dead, what would be- 

; of me? 

f. No other harm but loss of such a lonl. 

Iz, Tlie loss of such a lord includes all 


The heavens have bless'd you with a 

[lly sou, 

mr comforter when he is gone. 10 

, the twelfth pnrt of a sou: a coin of the lowest 

' Proper, handsome, well-proportioned. 
hargeifcT, put myself to the expense of. 
lin, take into my service. ^ /», into. 


^. Eliz. Ah, he is young; and his minority 
Is put unto the trust of Kichard Gloster, 12 
A man that loves not me nor none of you. 

Riv, Is it concluded he shall be protector? 

Q, Eliz, It is determined, not concluded yet:^ 
But so it must be, if the king miscarry.^ 

(Jrey, Here come the lords of Buckingham 
and Stanley. 

EiUer Buckingham and Stanley. 

Buck'. Good time of day unto your royal grace ! 

{^Stan. ( iod make your majesty joyful as you J 

have been ! } 

Q. Eliz. The Countess Richmond, good my/ 

Lord of Stanley, 20^ 

To your good pniyer will scarcely say amen. 

Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she *s your wife, ' 

And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd <^ 

I hate not you for her proud arrogance. 

^Stan. I do Ixjseech you, either not believe 
The envious slanders of her false accusers; \ 
Or, if she be accus'd on true report, J 

Bear with her weakness, which, I think, jiro- ;! 
ceeds > 

From wayward sickness, and no grounded; 
malice. ] \ 

Riv. Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of 
Stanley ? so 

Stan. But now the Duke of Buckingham 
and I 
Are come from visiting his majesty. 

Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment, 

Buck. Madam, good hope; his grace s])eaks 

Q. Eliz. God grant him health! Did you 

confer with him ? 
Buck. Ay, madam : he desires to make 
Between the Duke of Gloster and your 

And between them and my lord chamber- 
kin ;W 
And sent to wam^* them to his royal presence. 

' Determin'd, not concluded yet, resolved on, but nut 
yet t'nally settled. 

" 1/ *he king miscarry, if ill befall the king, i.e. if the 
king die. 

* To make atonement, i.e. to bring about a reconcilia- 
tion. ^^My lord chamberlain, i e. Hastings. 

i> Warn, summon. 




Q. ElU. Would all were well!— but that 
will never be: m 

I fear our happiness is at the height' 

Eater Globtbr, Habtinos, and Dorsbt. 
Olo. Thej do me wrong, and I will not en- 

Who are the; th&t complain 

o the king 

Thut I, foTBOoth, am stem, and love them not '. 
B; holy Paul, they love hii grace but lightlj 
That ml hia ears with such disaentioua rumoun. 
Because I cannot flatter and apeak fair. 
Smile in men's faces, amouth,' deceive, and cog.' 
Duck with French noda and apish o 
I must be held a rancorous enemy. 
Cannot a plain man live and tliink no barm. 

But thus his simple truth muat be abus'd m 
By silken, nly, insinuating Jackal 

Iliv. To whom in all this ]jreaence'* speaks 
your grace 1 

Olo. To the<', that hast nor honeaty nor grace. 
When have I iiijur'd thee) when doue thee 

Or theel — or thee? — or any of your faction t 

bSTe niched the imninft i>( our hipplneu. 
t Smoatik, ut [awniDKly * Cog, cheil. 

A ])lague upon you all ! Q His royal grace— . 
Whom God preserve better than you would ^ 

Cannot be <)iiiet scarce a breathing-whilei *>'■ 
But you must trouble hire with lewd*com-i 

plainta. 2 
Q. laiz. Brother of Gloater, you mistake the 

QThe king, of his own royal dispoufion, ; 
And not provokM by any suitor else; { 

ACT L Scents 3. 


ACT I. Scene 3. 

Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred, 65 
Tbat in your outward action shows itself 
Against my children, brothers, and myself, 
Makes him to send; that thereby he may 


The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it ] 

Ulo, I cannot tell : — the world is grown so 

bad, 70 

That wrens make prey where eagles dare not 

Since every Jack became a gentleman. 
There 's many a gentle person made a Jack. 
Q, Elu. Come, come, we know your mean- 
ing, brother Gloster; 
You envy my advancement and my friends': 
God grant we never may have need of you I 
(Jlo. Meantime, Grod grants that we have 
need of you: 
Our brother is imprisoned by your means, 
Myself diflgrac'd, and the nobility 
Held in contempt; while great promotions so 
Are daily given to ennoble those 
That scarce, some two days since, were worth 
a noble. 
Q. Eliz. By Him that rais'd me to this care- 
ful height^ 
From that contented hap^ which I enjo/d, 
I never did incense his majesty 
Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been 
An earnest advocate to plead for him. 
My lorrl, you do me shameful injury, 
Falsely to draw me in^ these vile suspects.^ 
(Jlo. You may deny that you were not the 
cause 90 

Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment. 
Hir. She may, my lord; for — 
Olo. She may. Lord Rivers! — why, who 
knows not so? 
She may do more, sir, than denying that: 
She may help you to many fair preferments; 
And then deny her aiding hand therein, 
And lay those honours on your high desert. 
What may she not? Sh^ may, — ay, marry, 
may she, — 
Hir. What, marry, may she? 
Glo. What, marry, may she ! marry with a 
king, 100 

I Cmr^ul height, tt. high position, sarroanded with 
anidctieft. * i^op, fortnne. 

- Draw ine in, bring me into. * Suspect*, suipicions. 

A bachelor, a handt^ome stripling too: loi 

Iwis^ your grandam had a worser match. 
Q. ElU. My Lord of Gloster, I have too 
long borne 
Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs: 
By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty 
Of those gross taunts I often have endur'd. 
I had rather be a country servant-maid 
Thau a great queen, with this condition, — 
To be so baited, scom'd, and stormed at: 

[Enter Queen Margaret^ behind. 
Small joy have I in being England's queen. 
Q^. Mar. [Asid^] And lessened be that small, 
God, I beseech him ! iii 

Thy honour, state, and seat is due to me. ] 
Olo. What ! thi-eat you me with telling of 
the king? * 

Tell him, and spare not : look, what I have 

I will avouch in presence of the king: 
I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower. 
T is time to speak, — my pains arc quite forgot. 
Q Q. Mar. [Aside] Out, devil ! I remember 
them too well : 
Thou kill'dst my husband Henry in the 
Tower, 119 

And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. 
Olo.'2 Ere you were queen, ay, or your hus- 
biiiid king, 
I was a pack-horse in his great affairs; 
A weeder-out of his proud adversaries, 
A liberal rewai'der of his friends: 
To royalise his blood I spilt mine own. 
[_Q. Mar. [Aside] Ay, and much better blood 

than his or thine. 
(rfo. In all which time you and your hus- 
l>an(l Grey 
Were factious for the house of Lancaster; — 
And, Rivers, so were you: — was not your 
husband 129 

In Margaret's battle ° at Saint Alban's slain? 
Let me i)ut in your minds, if you forget. 
What you have been ere now, and what you ai-e ; 
Withal, what I have been, and what I am. 
Q. Mar. [Aside] A murderous villain, and 

so still thou ai*t. 
Glo. Poor Clarence did forsake his father, 
Warwick ; 

& Iwit, truly. <^ In Margaret's battle, on Margaret's side. 


ACT I. Scene H. 


ACT I. Scene 3. 

J- Ay, and forswore himself, — which Jesu pai*- 
< dou ! — 

Q. Mar. [Aside] Which God revenge ! 
Glo. To fight on Edward's party, for the 

'And for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up. "2 
I would to Grod my heart were flint, like 
Edward's; i40 

Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine: 
I am too childish-foolish for this world. 
Q Q, Mar, [Asid^] Hie thee to hell for shame, 
and leave this world, 
Thou cacodemon ! ^ there thy kingdom is. "2 

Riv. My Lord of Gloster, in those busy days 
Wliich here you urge to prove ua enemies, 
We foUow'd then our lord, our lawful king: 
So should we you, if you should be our king. 
Olo. If I should be! — I had rather be a 
Far be it from my heart, the thought of it! 150 
5 Q^. Eliz. As little joy, my lord, as you sup- 
( pose 

{You should enjoy, were you this country's 
j king,— 

( As little joy you may suppose in me, 
^That 1 enjoy, being the queen thereof.] 

§. Nar. Q [AsUIe] As little joy enjoys the 
queen thereof; 
\ For I am she, and altogether joyless. 
(1 can no longer hold me patient — ] 

Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that ii\X\ out 
In sharing that which you have pill'd from 

Which of you trembles not that looks on 
me? 160 

If not, that, I Ix'ing queen, you bow like 

Yet that, by you deposed,** you quake like 

rebels? - 
[To Gloster] Ah, gentle villain,* do not turn 
away ! 
GU). Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st** 
thou in my sight? 

1 Cacod^nttn. evil spirit. 

* PiU'd/rom me, roblted nie of. 

" liy yfnt depot^d, i e. I being depoBed by you. 

* Gentle villain, wrctcli of gentle birth: perhaps gentle 
is ii!se<l here in a <louble sense, ironically 

i 3Iak'§t, i.e. doest 


(^. Mar. But I'epetition® of what thou'st 
marr'd;^ i« 

That will I make before I let thee go. 

Glo. Wert thou not banished on pain of 

death ? 
Q. Mar. I was; 
But I do iind more pain in banishment 
Than death can yield me here by my abode.^ 
A husband and a son thou ow'st to me, — iTi 
[To Q. Eliz.] And thou a kingdom, — all of you 
*^ allegiance: 

Tlie sorrow that I have, by right is yours; 
And all the pleasiu'es you usurp are mine. 
Glo. The curse my noble father laid on 
When thou didst crown his warlike brow's 

with paper. 
And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his 

And then, to dry them, gav'st the duke a clout 
Steep'd in the faultless blood of pi*etty Rut- 
land ; — 
His curses, then from bitterness of soul 
Denounc'd against thee, are all fall'n upon thee; 
And God, not we, hath plagu'd* thy bloody 
deed. ISl 

[| i^. Eliz. So just is God, to right the iuno- ; 

Hast. O, 't was the foulest deed to slay that 
And the most merciless that e'er was heard of. 
Rio. Tyrants themselves wept when it was 

Dor. No man but i)rophe8ied revenge for it. 
Buck. Northumberland, then ])re8eut, wept 

to see it. ] 
Q. Mar. ^ Wliat! were you snarling all be-; 
fore 1 came, 
Ready to catch each other by the throat, 
And turn you all your hatred now on me?] ) 
Did York's dread curse prevail so much with 
heaven, w» 

That Hein-y's death, my lovely Edward's 

< Repetition, to be pronounced as quinqneByllBble; re- 

' O/vhat thou* it marr'd, i.e. of her denunciation of them 
all which Gloster had interrupted. 

H 3/?/ abode, i.e. the fact of my remaining. 

riagu'd, punished. 

ACT L iioene 3. 


ACT L Soene 3, 

Their kingdom^s lo8a, my woeful banishment, 
Could all but answer for^ that peevish brat? 
Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven ? — 
Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick 

curses! — 
Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, 
As ours by murder, to make him a king ! 
Edward thy son, that now is Prince of Wales, 
For Edwanl my son, that was Prince of Wales, 
Die in his youth by like untimely violence! 201 
Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, " 
Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self I 
Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's loss; 
And see another, as I see thee now, 
Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd^ in 

Long die thy happy days before thy death; 
And, after many lengthened hours of grief, 
Die neither mother, wife, nor England's 

queen! — 209 

Rivers and Dorset, you were standers-by, — 
And so wa^t thou, Lord Hastings, — when my 

Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray 

That none of you may live his natural age, 
But bv some unlook'd^ accident cut oflf 1 
Olo. Have done thy charm, thou hateful 

wither d hag! 
^. Jfar. And leave out thee? stay, dog, for 

thou slialt hear me. 
If heaven have any grievous plague in store 
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, 
O let them keep it till thy sins be ripe 
And then hurl down their indignation 220 
On thee, the troubler of the poor world's 

The worm of conscience still* be-gnawthy soul ! 
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou 

And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends! 
No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, 
Unless it be while some tormenting dream 
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils ! 
Thou elvish-niark'd, alx)rtive, rooting hog I 
Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity 
Tlie sLive of nature, and the son of hell ! 230 

1 Could all hut anttoer/or, &c., i.e. could, all taken to- 
gether, onljr atone for Rutluntrs death, 
s Staled, iiisUlletl. * UrUook'd, unforeseen. « StiU, ever. 

12 Thou slander of thy heavy mother's womb! J 
Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins ! |] 
Thou rag of honour ! thou detested — 233 

Qlo, [Inierruptinff] Margaret. 
Q. I/ar. Richard ! 

Oh. Ha ! 

(^. Mar. I call thee not. 

Glo. I cry thee mercy, then; for I did think 
That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter 
Q. Mar, Why, so I did; but look'd for no 
O let me make the period^ to my curse ! 
Olo. 'T is done by me, and ends in — Mar- 
Q. Eliz. Thus have you breath'd your curse 
against yourself. 240 

y. Mar. Poor painted® queen, vain flourish 
of my fortune ! " 
Why strew 'st thou sugar on that bottled* 

Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? 
Fool, fool ! thou whett'st a knife to kill thyself. 
The day will come that thou shalt wish for me 
To help thee curse this }>oisonous bunch- 
back'd toad. 
Hast. False-boding woman, end thy frantic 
Lest to thy harm thou move* our patience. 
Q. Mar. Foul sliame upon you ! you have 

all mov'd mine. 
liiv. Were you well ^^ serv'd, you would be 
taught your duty. 25a 

Q. Mar. To serve me well, you all should do 
me duty, 
Teach me to be your queen, and you my sub- 
O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that 
Dor. Dispute not with her, — she is lunatic. 
Q. Mar. Peace, master marquess, you are 
Your fire-new ^^ stamp of honour is scarce 

O that your young nobility could judge 

* Period, conclusion. * Painted, i.e. aham. 

y Vain fiouritth of my fortune, i.e. having but the empty 
externals of the rank which is mine. 
« Bottled, bloated. * Move, enrage. »« WeU, i.e. rightly. 
11 Fire-new, fresh from the mint = brand-new. 


ACT I. Soen« 3. 


ACT I. Scene 3. 


What 't were to lose it, and be miserable ! 
They that stand high have many blasts to 

shake them; 
And if they fall, they dash themselves to 
pieces. 2eo 

Olo. Good counsel, marry: — learn it, learn 

it, marques& 
Dor. It touches you, my lord, as much as me. 
Ulo. Ay, and much more: but I was bom 
so high, 
Our aery ^ buildeth in the cedar's top, 
And dallies with the wind, and sconis the sun. 
Q. Mar. And turns the sun to shade; — alas! 
alas! — 
Witness my son, now in the shade of death ; 
|[| Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy 


Hath in eternal darkness folded up. ^ 
Your aery* buildeth in our aery's* nest; — 270 
O God, that seest it, do not suffer it; 
As it was won with blood, lost be it so ! 
Bud^k. Peace, jHiace, for shame, if not for 

[|y. Mar. Urge neither clwrity nor shame to 

Uncharitably with nie have you dealt. 
And shamefully my hopes by you are 


; My charity is outrage, life my shame, — 
And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage! 
'( Duck. Have done, have done. ] 

Q. Mar. O princely Buckingham, I'll kiss 
thy hand, 280 

In sign of league and amity with thee: 
Now fair l)efall thee and thy noble house ! 
Tliy garments are not spotted with our blood, 
Nor thou within tlie compass of my curse. 

Buck. Nor no one here; for curses never pass^ 
Tlie lips of those that breathe them in the air. 
Q. Mar. I will not think but they ascend 
the sky. 
And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. 
O Buckingham, take heed. of yonder dog! 
Look, when he fawns he bites; and when he 
bites, 290 

His venom tooth will rankle to the death: 
Have nought to do with him, beware of him ; 

» Atry, brood; here = race. 

3 PaUt i.e. go beyond (In their effect). 


Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on 
him, I'M 

And all their ministers attend on him. 

Glo. What doth she say, my Lord of Buck- 
ingham ? 
Bud'. Nothing that I respect,^ my gracious 

Q. Mar. What, dost thou scorn me for my 
gentle counsel? 
And soothe* the devil that I warn thee from '. 
O, but remember this another day. 
When he shall split thy very heart with sor- 
row, '.m 
And say, poor Margaret was a prophetess !— 
Live each of you the subjects to his hate, 
And he to yours, and all of you to God's ! 

[Exit. , 
Ilast. My hair doth stand on end to hear 

her curses. 
I{ii\ And so doth mine: I muse why she's 

at liberty. 
Glo. 1 cannot blame her: by God's holy 
She liath had too much wrong; and I repent 
My part thereof that I have done to her. 
[_Q. Eliz. I never did her any, to my know- 

Glo. Yet you have all the vantage of her; 
wrong. aio 

I was too hot to do somebody good ; 

That is too cold in thinking of it now. 
Mairy, as for Clarence, he is well rei>jiid ; 
He is frank'd up to fatting^ for his jNiins; — 
God panlon them that are the cause of it ! 
lUv. A virtuous and a Christian-like 'COf • 
elusion, 4 

To pray for them that have done scath** to ua. . 
(JU). So do I ever: [And^l being well" 
For had I curs'd now, I liad curs'd myself. 3 

Enter Catesbt. I 

Cates. Madam, his majesty doth call^lor 

you, — s» 

And for your grace, — and you, my noble lonls. 

y. Eliz. Catesby, I come.- Lords, will you 
go with me? 

3 Retpeei, regard, pay attention to. * Soothe, flatter. 
< Frank'd up to fatting, shut up in a stye for the pur- 
pose of beinu; fattened. ^ Scath, injury. 


ACT I. ScaiM 3- 

. We wait upon your grace. 823 

[Exeunt all except Olo*ter. 
. I do the wrong, and firat begin to brawL 
Kret mischiefs that I set abroach 
onto the grieroua charge of others, 
ice, — whom I, indeed, have laid in dark- 

leweep to manj simple gulls; ' 

Namely, tu HastiDga, Staniey, Buckingham ; 
And say it is the queen and her allies sao 
That stir the king against the duke my 

Now, they believe it; and witlml whet me 
To be reveng'd on Rivers, Vaughan,' Grey ; 
But then I sigh ; and, with a piece of Scripture, 
Tell them that God bids us do good for evil; 

lUB I clothe niy naked villany 

lid odd ends atoI'Q out of holy writ; 

Kem a saint, when most I |ilay the 


A I here come my executioners. ssn 

£ater two Murderer$. 
ow, my hardy, stout, resolved' mates! 
'U now going to dispatch this thing? 

Firii Muni. We are, my lord; and come U> 
have the warrant, 3*i 

That we may be admitted where he la. 

Olo. Well thought upon; — I have it here 
about me; [ffiw* the icarrattt. 

When you have done, repair to Crosby Place. 
But, sirs, be sudden* in the execution. 
Withal obdurate, do not bear him plead; 
For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps 
Muymove yourhtarts topity.if you mark^him. 

< Svidm, quick. ' Mark, heed. 

ACT I. Scene 4. 


ACT I. Scene 4. 

First Murd, Tut, tut, my lord, we will not 
stand to prate; avo 

Talkers are no good doere: be assur'd 
We go to use our bauds, and not our tongues. 
Glo. Your eyes drop miUstones, when fools' 
eyes fall tears: 
I like you, lads; — about your business straight; 
<jk), go, dispatch. 

First Murd. We will, my noble lord. 


ScKXi-: IV. The same, A room in the 


Enter Clarence urui Brakenbury. 

lirak. Why looks your grace so heavily to- 
day i 
( 'lar. (>, I have ])ass'd a miserable night, 
80 full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights. 
That, .us I am a Christian f;iithful man,^ 
I would not s])end another such a night. 
Though 't were to buy a world of ha].>py days, 
So full of dismal terror was the time I 

Brftir. What w;us your dream, my lord? I 

j>niy you, tell me. 
</f/r. Methought that I had broken from 
the Tower, 
Ami was emK'irk'd to cross to Burgundy; 10 
And, in my conijKiny, my brother Glo«ter; 
Who from my ciibin tempted me to walk 
' Uj)onthe hatches:- f thence we lookM toward 
/ England, 

MihI cited up^ a thousand heavy times, 
; During the wars of ^^)rk and Lancaster, 
/That had befall'n us.] As we jmicM along 
•QUj»on the giddy footing of the hatches,] 
Methought that Gloster stumbled; and, in 

Struck me, that thought to stay him, over- 

Into the tumbling billows of the nmin. 20 

O Ijord ! methought, what {Kiin it was to 

drown ! 
What dreadful noise of water in mine eai's ! 
What sights of ugly deatli within mine eyes! 
Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; 

• Faithful man, if. orthodox believer, 
a The hatchet, i e. the deck. 
' Cited up^ recotititetl. 


A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon ; 
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of j)eail, 
Inestimable stones, unvalued * jewels, 
All scattered in the bottom of the sea: 
Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in the hole^ 
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were 
crept — so 

As 't were in scorn of eyes — reflecting gema, 
That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deej), 
And moc^k'd the dead bones tliat lav scatter'd 
Ural'. Had you such leisme in the time of 
To gaze upon these secrets of the deep i 
Clar, Methought I had; and oft^ui did I 
To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood 
Stopp'd in my soul, and would not let it forth 
f To find the empty, vast, and wandering air, ^ 
But smothered it within my panting bulk,* 40 1 
Which almost burst to belch it in the sea. ] ) 
Ural'. Awak'd you not in this sore agony? 
(lar. No, no, my dream was lengthen'd 
after life; 
(>, then began the tempest to my soul I 
1 }>ass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, 
With that soui"^ fenyman which poets write (»f, 
I'nto the kingdom of i^ei-petual night. 
The first that there did greet my stranger soul, 
W.'is my great father-in-law, rcnowneil War- 
wick ; 49 
Who cried aloud, " What scourge for pt^rjury 
C'jui this dark monarchy afford falstK 'larence?'' 
And so he vanished: then C4ime wandering by 
A shadow like an angel, with bright hair 
Dabbled in' blooil ; and he shriek'd out aluud, 
*M..'liU'ence w cnmie, — false, fleeting,* perjur'd 

( larence, — 
That stibbVl me in the field byTewksbury;- 
Seize on hiin. Furies, take him unto tor- 
ment ! " 
With that, methought, a legion of foul fiendri 
Knviron'tl me, and howled in mine ears 
Such hideous cries, that, with tlie very noist', 
1 trembling wakM, and, for a secoson aft<*r, • 1 
Could not believe but that I was in hell, — 
Such tenible impression made my dream. 

* Unralu'd, i.e. invuhiable. •'• Bulk, body. 

•■' Stnir, morose. * Dabbled i/i - tpatt^red with. 

* Fleeting, incoustaut. 

ACT I. Scene 4. 


ACT I. Boene 4. 

Brak. No marvel, lord, though it aflfrighted 
you; «54 

I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it 
Clar. O Brakenbury, I have done thoae 
That now give evidence against my aoul, 
For E<1 ward's sake; and see how he requites 

me! — 
() CkMl ! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee. 
But thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds, 70 
Yet execute thy wrath in ^ me alone, — 

spare my guiltless wife and my poor chil- 

dren! — 

1 pmy thee, Brakenbury, stay by me. 
My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. 

[Clare)ice lies down on pallet, 
Brak, I will, my lord : God give your grace 
good rent! — 
){_ Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, 
^ Makes the night morning, and the noontide 
\ night ] 
l*rince8 have but their Jiitles for their gloiies, 
An outward honour for an inward toil; 
And, for 2 unfelt imaginations, so 

They often feel a world of restless cares: 
So that, between their titles and low name, 
Tliere 's nothing differs but the outward fame. 

EfUer the two Murderers. 

Firtt Jfurd. Ho ! who 's here i 

Bred'. Whatwouldst thou, fellow? and how 

cam'st thou hither? 
First Murd. I would speak with Clarence, 
and I came hither on my legs. 
Brak. What, so brief? 
Sec. Murd. Tis better, sir, than to l>e 
te<lion& — Let him see our commission ; and 
tilk no more. oo 

[First Muni, gives a paper to Brakenbury y 
who reads it. 
Brak. I am, in this, commanded to deliver 
The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands: — 
I will not reason what is meant hereby, 
Because I will be guiltless of the meaning. 
'ITiere lies the duke asleep [Pointing to pallet], 

and there the keys [Oinng him keys] : 
1 11 to the king; and signify to him 
That thus I have resigned to you my charge. 

1 /n=oiL 

« Far, In return for. 

First Murd. You may, sir; 'tis a point of 
wisdom: fare you well. [Exit Brakenbury. 

Sec. Murd. What, shall we stab him as he 
sleeps? 101 

First Murd. No; he'll say 'twas done 
cowardly, when he wakes. 

Sec. Murd. Wliy he shall never wake until 
the great judgment-day. 

First Murd. Why, then he '11 say we stabb'd 
him sleeping. 

Sec. Murd. The urging of that word '* judg- 
ment'* hath bred a kind of remorse in me. no 

First Murd. What, art thou afraid ? 

Sec. Murd. Not to kill him, having a war- 
rant for it; but to be damn'd for killing him, 
from the which no warrant can defend me. 

First Murd. 1 thought thou hadst been re- 

Sec. Murd. So I am, to let him live. 

First Murd. I '11 back to the Duke of Glos- 
ter, and tell him so. 119 

Sec. Murd. Nay, I prithee, stay a little : I 
hope my passionate^ humour will change; it 
waa wont to hold me but while one tells 

First Murd. [After a short pause] How dost 
thou feel thyself now? 

Sec. Murd. Some certiiin dregs of conscience 
are yet within me. 

First Murd. Rememljer our reward, when 
the deed 's done. 

Sec. Murd. Zounds, he dies: I had forgot 
the reward. 129 

First Murd. Where's thy conscience now? 

Sec. Murd. In the Duke of Gloster's purse. 

^First Murd. So, when he o]>ens his purse 
to give us our reward, thy conscience flies 

Sec. Murd. 'T is no matter; let it go; there 's 
few or none will entertain it. ] 

First Murd. What if it come to thee again i 

Sec. Murd. I '11 not me<ldle with it, — it 
makes a man a coward : a man cannot steal, 
but it accuseth him; a man cannot swear, but 
it checks him; fa man cannot lie with his 
neighbour's wife, but it detects him : ] 't is a 
blushing shame-fac'd spirit that mutinies in a 
man's bosom; it fills a man full of obstacles: 

> PamoHaee = compassionate; or, simply, emotional. 


ACT I. Scene 4. 


ACT I. Scene 4. 

it made uie once restore a purse of gold, that 
by chance I found; it beggars any man that 
keeps it : it is tum'd out of all towns and 
cities for a dangerous thing ; and every man 
tliat means to live well endeavours to trust to 
himself and live without it 

First Murd. Zounds, it is even now at my 
elbow, [)ersuading me not to kill the duke. 160 

Sec. Mnrd. Take the devil in thy mind, and 
believe him^ not: he^ would insinuate^ with 
thee but to make thee sigh. 

Firgt Murd, I am strong-fram'd, he^ cannot 
prevail with me. 

Sec. Murd. Si>oke like a tall^ man that re- 
spects his reputation. Come, shall we fall to 

First Murd. Take* him over the costard" 
with the hilts of thy sword, and then throw 
him into the malmsey-butt in the next room. 

Sec. Murd. O excellent device ! and make a 
sop® of him. i«2 

First Murd. Soft ! he wakes. 

Sec. Murd. Strike! 

First Murd. No, we '11 reason'^ with him. 

Chir. \^]Vak'i)ig] Where art thou, keejKjr? 
give me a cup of wine. 

First Murd. You shall have wine enough, 
my lord, anoiL 

Q Clar. In GcmI's name, what ait thou? 

First Murd. A man, as you are. 170 

C*lar. But not, as I am, royal. 

First Murd. Nor you, as we are, loyid. 

Clar. Tliy voice is thunder, but tliy looks 
are humble. 

First Murd. My voice is now the king's, my 
looks mine own. 

Clar. How darkly and how deadly dost 
thou H]>eak ! 
Yoiir eyes do mentice me: why look you pale? 
Who sent you hither? Wherefoi'e do you 

Both Murd. To, to, to— 

Clar. To murder me? 

Both Murd. Ay, jiy. 

Clar. You scarcely have the hearts to tell 

me so. 


1 Ilim, he, both refer to conscience. 

'•> InnnuaU -\ixvxtX\tAid himself. 

3 7a//, stout, daring. * Ta*e = strike. ^ Co9tard,h%vn\. 

* A MP, i.e. anything steeped in liquor. ' lUaton, i.e. talk. 


And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it 
Wherein, my friends, have I offended you? 
First Murd. Offended us you have not, but, 
the king. iss 

(^r. I shall be reconcil'd to him again. 
Sec, Murd, Never, my lord; therefore pre-- 

pare to die. 

Clar. Are you drawn forth among a world' 

of men 

To slay the innocent? What is my offence? J 

Where is the evidence that doth accuse me? > 

Wliat lawful quest ^ have given their ver-: 

diet up 189 

Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounc'd 
The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? | 
Before I be convict^ by course of law, 
To threaten me with death is most unlawful 
I charge you, as you hope to have redemption 
By Clirist's dear blood shed for our grieTOUS 

sins, ? 

That you de})2irt, and lay no hands on me: \ 
The deed you undertake is damnable. 

First Murd. What we will do, we do upon' 

comm^md. < 

Sec. Murd. And he that hath commanded k* 

our king. '. 

Clar. Erroneous ^^ vassals! the great King; 

of kings soo; 

Uath in the table of his law commanded | 
That thou shalt do no murder: will you, tiwii,' 
Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's? | 

Take heed ; for he holds vengeance in his 

hand, [ 

To hurl u})on their heads that break hia law. ; 
Sec, Murd. And that same vengeance doth 

he hurl on thee, > 

For false forswearing, and for murder too: 
Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight 
In quarrel of *^ the house of Lancaster. 
First Murd. And, like a traitor to the name' 

of God, 210 

Didst break that vow; and with thy treacher- 
ous blade '{ 
Unripp'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's soil 
Sec. Murd, Whom thou wast sworn to 

cherish and defend. 

" Quett. inquest or jury. 
» Convict, convicted. 

10 Erroneout, mistaken. 

11 In quairel qf=in tlie cause of. 

ACT I. Son 4. 

Firtt J/urri. How caiist tliou urge God's 
; dniulfiil law to us, 214 

>When thou hast broke it in such ilear' degree? 
f Clar. ALls 1 for whose sake liiii I that ill deed? 
'For Edward, for my brother, for his xakei 
,He sends joit not to miinler me for thia; 
: For in that eiu be is oa deep aH 1. -i-m 

■ If God will be avengwl for the deeii, 


ACT I. Sot 

O, know yiiii yet, he doth it imblicly: iXtl 

Take not the iiiiarrel from his powerful arm; i 
He needs no indirect or lawlesB course ] 

To cut off tho8« that liave offended liim. ^ 

Firtt Muni. Who made thee, then, a bloodyj 
niinistei', ) 

When galhint. iijinngiiig, Lntve Flantagenet, y 
That princely novice, was struck dead by theeli 

Clar. My linrtheHs love,' the devil, and my 
; Pint .Vufl Thy brothert love, our duty, 
and thy faults, sio 

Provtike us hither now to itLtujjhtt^r thee. 
' Clar. If you do love my brother, hate not me ; 
!' I am hia brother, and 1 love hiin well. 
,If you are hiKd for meed,' go back again, 
^A™I I will send you to my brother Gloater, 

> Ity broUier-i Iodt. i r 

Who Hliall rewnr<l you better fur my life ise/ 
Than Edward will for tidings of my death. > 

(7('r.O,no,helove8me,nnd he holds medear:^ 

Go you to liim from me. ] 

Bmh .Vtird. Ay, bo we will. •40j 

(Itir. Tell him, when that our iirincely') 

fjlther York { 

BleHH'd his three sons with his victorious arm, ] 

Aiul chsrg'd us from his soul to love each ' 

other, i 

ACT I. Soetie 4. 


ACT II. Scene 1. 

II He little thought of this divided friendship: 
^ Bid Gloster think on this, and he will weep. 

/ First Murd, Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd 
I us to weep. 24« 

Clar. O, do not slander him, for he is kind. 
First Murd. Right, 
As snow in harvest. — Come, you deceive your- 
self : 
T is he that sends us to destroy you here. 250 
5 Clar, It cannot be; for he be wept my for- 
/ tune, 

^ And hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with 
I sobs, 
<'That he would labour my delivery. 

First Murd. Why, so he doth, when he de- 
livers you 
From this eai^h's thraldom to the joys of 
j; heaven. 

^ Sec. Murd. Make peace with God, for you 
\ must die, my lord. 
< Clar. Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul, 
J To counsel me to make my i>eace with God, 
$ And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind, 
^That thou wilt war with God by murdering 
me?— 2C0 

O, sirs, consider, he that set you on 
To do this deed will hate you for the deed. 
Sec. Murd. What shall we do? 
Clar. Relent, and save your souls. 

First Murd. Relent! 'tis cowardly iind 
( womanish. 

Clar. Not to relent is beastly, savage,^ 
devilish. — * 
My friend, I spy some pity in thy lcx>k8; 270 J 
O, if thine eye be not a flatterer, ^ 

Come thou on my side, and entreat for me: i 
A begging prince what beggar pities not? 
First Murd."^ Ay, thus, and thus [Stabs him]-.: 
if all this will not do, 
I '11 drown you in the malmsey-butt within. 

[Exit, with the body. 

Sec. Murd. A bloody deed, and des{)erately 

dispatched I 

How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands 

Of this most grievous murder ! j^ 

Re-enter First Murderer, 

First Murd. How now I what mean'st tbon, 
that thou help'st me not? 
By heaven, the duke shall know how slack 
you 've been. 
Sec. Murd. I would he knew that P had 
sav'd his brother I 
Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say; 
For I repent me that the duke is slain. [Exk. 
First Murd. So do not I: go, cowiinl as thou 
art — 
Well, I *11 go hide the botly in some hole, 
Till that the duke' give order for his burial: 
And when I have my meed,* I will away; 2S9 
For this^ will out, and then I must not stay. 



Scene I. London. A room in the palace. 

Enter King Edward, enfeebled by illness, lean- 
ing on the arm of Hastings a}id Rivers; 
Queen Elizabeth, Dorset, Bucking- 
ham, Grey, and others. 

[| K. Edw. Why, so; — now have I done a good 
day's work: — 
You peers, continue this united league: 
I every day expect an embassage 
',■ From my Redeemer to redeem me hence ; 

• Lines 266-200, 273, and 27rt Globe edn. uniitted. (See 
note 204d.) i TIi^ duke, ie. Gloster. 

s Meed, reward. * Thi*, i.e. this murder. 


And now in i>eace my soul shall \nxri* to; 

heaven, ^ 

Since I have made my friends at peace on earth, i 

Rivers and Hastings, take each other's hand; i 

Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love. - 

Riv. By heaven, my soul is purged from;. 

grudging hate; J 

And with my hand I seal my true heart sj 

love. 10 ; 

Ilast. So thrive I, as I truly swear the like! ] 

K, Edw. Take heed you dally ^ not lieforej 

your king; f 

* Part^ depart. 

A Dally, trifle. 

ACT IL Soene 1. 


ACT II. 8oeD« 1. 

i- Lest he that is the supi'eme King of kings 
: CV)nf ound your hidden falsehood, and award 
Either of you to be the other's end. 16 

Host. So prosper I, as I swear i)erfect love I 
liic. And I, as I love Hastings with my 

K. £dw. Madam, yourself are not exempt 
f in this, — 

: Nor you, son Dorset, — Buckingham, nor 

I you; — 19 

You have been factious one against the other. 

r Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your 

hand ; 
And what you do, do it unfeignedly. 
\ Q. £iiz. Tliere, Hiistings; I will nevermore 
[ remember 

Our former liatred, so thrive I and mine! 
A'. Edic. Dorset, embrace him; — Hastings, 

luve lonl marquess. 
A>r. This interchange of love, I here j>ro- 
Upon my part shall be inviolable. 
; JIast, And so swear I. [T/te^ embrace. ] 
A'. £dic. Now, princely Buckingham, seal 
thou this league 
With thy embracements to my wife's allies, 30 
And make me happy in your unity. 
Bu4^ir. [ To the QHeeti] Whenever Buckingham 
doth turn his hate 
Upon your grace, but with all duteous love 
IXith cherish you and yours, God punish me 
AVith hate in those where I exi)ect most love! 
t When I hiive most need to employ a friend, 
And most assured that he is a friend, 
' Deep, hoUow, treacherous, and full of guile, 
'Be he unto mel — this do I beg of God,] 
When I am cold in zeal to you or yours. 40 

[Enibracing Rivers, dec. 
K, Edw, A pleasing cordial, princely Buck- 
Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart 
There wanteth now our brother Gloster here, 
To make the perfect period of this peace. 
Buck. And, in good time, here comes the 
noble duke. 

Enter Gloster, attended by Ratcliff. 

GU). Good morrow to my sovereign king 
and queen; 
And, princely jjeers, a happy time of day! 

A*. Edw. Hai)py, indeed, as we have spent 
the day. 
Brother, we have done deeds of charity; 
Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate, so 
Between these swelling wrong-incensed i)eers. 
Ulo. A blessed labour, my most sovereign 
liege. — 
[| Among this princely heap, if any here. 
By false intelligence or wrong surmise. 
Hold me a foe; 

If I unwittingly, or in my rage. 
Have aught committed that is hardly borne 
By any in this presence, I desire ' 

To reconcile me to his friendly peace :] '> 

T is death to me to be at enmity; eo 

I hate it, and desire all good men's love. — 
Q Firat, madam, I entreat true peace of you, ) 
Which I will purchase with my duteous ser- > 

\nce; — 
Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, 
If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us; — J 
Of you. Lord Rivera, — and, Loixl Grey, of you, J 
That all without desert hiive frown'd on^ 

Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen ; — indeed, of all.] ' 
I do not know that Englishman alive 
With whom my soul is any jot at odds 70 

More than the infant that is bom to-night: — 
I thank my G<xl for my humility. 

Q. Kliz. A holy day shall this be kept here- 
after: — 
I would to G(kI all strifes were well Com- 
pounded. — 
My sovereign lonl, I do beseech your highness 
To take our brother Clarence to your grace. 
Ulo. Why, madam, have I offered love for 
To be so flouted in this royal jn'esence '? 
Who knows not that the gentle duke is dead \ 

[They all start. 

You do him injury to scorn his corse. so 

Ric. Who knows not he is dead ! who 

knows he is? 
Q. Eliz. All-seeing heaven, what a world is 

Buck. Look I so jmle, Lord Dorset, as tlie 

Dor. Ay, my good lord; and no man in this 
But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. 


ACT II. t^cene 1. 


ACT II. Soeue 2. 

A'. Edw. Ih Clarence dead? the order waa 

Olo, But he, poor man, by your first onier 
And that^ a wingeil Mercury did bear; 
Sope tardy ciippIe bore the countermand, 
! Q That came too lag^ to see him buried. 90 
^God grant that some, less noble and less loyal, 
< Nearer in bloody thoughts, but not in blood, 
^Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence 

[And yet go current from suspicion ! ] 

Enter Stanley. 

Stan, A boon, my sovereign, for my ser- 
vice done ! 
K. E(lic. I pray thee, |)eace: my soul is fiUl 

of sorrow. 
Stan. I will not rise, unles.s your highness 

hear me. 
A". E(lw. Then say at once what is it thou 

Stan. Tlie forfeit,"* sovereign, of my ser- 
vant's life; 
Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman loo 

Lately attendant on the Duke of Noi-folk. 
K. Eihc. Have I a tongue to d<x>m my bro- 
thei-'s death. 
And shall tliat tongue give j)artlon to a slave \ 
My brother kill'd no man, — his fault was 

And yet his punislmient was bitter tleath. 
Who su'd to me for him ? who, in my wrath, 
Kneel'd at mv feet, and bade me l)e advis'd I 
Who spoke of brotherhood ? who sjx^ke of love ? 
;[ Who told me how the jxior soul did forsake 
The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me ? 
: Who told me, in the fiel<l at Tewksbury, ill 
; When Oxfonl had me down, he rescu'd me, 
^And said, "Dear brother, live, and be a 

/ king"0 
Who told me, when we Iwtli lav in the fieltl 

Frozen almost to death, how he did lap*^ me 

£ven in his garments, and did give himself. 

All thin and naked, to the numb cold night ? 

' [ All this from my remembrance brutish wrath 

; Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you 

1 ThtU, i.e. the flnt order, 
s Forfeit, the thing forfeited. 


s Lag, late. 
* Lap, wrap. 

Had SO much grace to put it in my mind. 120) 
But when your carters or your waiting- vassals 
Have done a dnuiken slaughter, and defac'd ^ 
The precious image of our dear Redeemer, 
You straight are on your knees for pardon,: 

And I, unjustly too, must grant it you: — \ 
But for my brotlier not a man would speak, — i 
Nor I, ungracious,^ Hi>eak unto myself i 

For him, poor soul. ] The proudest of you all > 
Have been beholding to him in his life; 
Yet none of you would once beg for his life. — 

God, I feiir thy justice will take hold 131 
On me, and you, and mine, and yours for 

this :— 
C'ome, Hastings, help me to my closet — 
Ah, poor Clarence ! 

\^Exeunt King, (^ucen, Ifasting$^ liivcrt^ 
Dorset, and (rre>/. 
Ulo. This is the fniit of rashness I — Mark'd 
you not 
How that the guilty kindred of the queen 
LookVl j)ale when tliey did hear of Clarence 

death ? 
G, they did urge it still ° unt^ the king! 
God will revenge it.— Come, lords, will you go, 
QTo comfort Edward with our company.] 140 
Buck. AVe wait ujmn your grsice. [Exeunt 

Scene II. The Aame. Another room in the 


Enter the DucHi-as of York, icith a Son 
and Daughter of Clarence. 

\_Son. Crood grandam, tell us, is our father^ 

deiid ? \ 

Jhu'h. No, lx)V. i 

Dauyh. Why do you weep so oft, and beat J 

your breast, \ 

And cry, "O Chu-ence, my unha{)py sou!" \ 

Son. Why do you look on us, and shake ^ 

your head, $ 

And call us orplians, wretches, castaways, > 

If that our noble father l)e alive 1 > 

Duch. My pretty cousins, you mistake me« 

l)oth; [ 

1 do lament tlie sickness of the king, 

< Unffracunt§, impious, withont religioni grace. 
• Still. coiMtantly. 

ACT II. SoeiM 2. 


ACT II. Scene J- 

, A» loth to lose bim, not your father's death; lo 
. It were lost sorrow to wail one that 's lost 
^fu Then, grandam, you conclude that he 
is dead. 
The king my uncle is to blame for this: 
<iod will revenge it; whom I will importune 
, With daily prayers* all to that effect 
Da ugh. And so will I. 
Ditch, Peace, children, peace! the king doth 
love you well : 
Incajiable^ juid shallow innocents, 
Yuu cannot guess who caus'd your father's 
Son, Grandam, we can; for my good uncle 
Gloster 20 

Told me, tlie king, provok'd to it by the queen, 
Devis'd imi)eachmeut8 to imprison him: 
And when my uncle told me w>, he wept, 
• And pitied me, and kindly kiasVl my cheek; 
Bade me rely on him as on my father. 
And he would love me dearly as his child. 
Duch, Ah, that deceit should steal such 
gentle s]iaf>e, 
And with a virtuous visor hide deep \*ice ! 
He is my sou; ay, and therein my shame; 
Vet from my dugs he drew not this deceit, so 
Son, Think you mv uncle did dissemble, 

grandam ? 
Dtich. Ay, boy. 

Son. I cannot think it — Hark! what noise 
is this ? 1 

Knter QuEEX Elizabeth, distractedly; Eivers 
and Dorset following her, 

Q. Eliz. O, who shall hinder me to wail and 
To chide my fortune, and torment myself? 
I 'U join with black despair against my soul, 
And to myself become an enemy. 
[ Duch. Wliat means this scene of rude im- 

]katience 7 

Q, Eliz. To make an act of tragic violence: — 

Etlwan], my lord, thy son, our king, is dead ! 

AVhy grow the branches when the root is 

gone ? 41 

Wliv wither not the leaves that want their 



1 Prayer$. a diuyllable here. 

* Incapable, unable to comprthentl. 


If you will live, htment; if die, be brief, « 
That our swift-winged souls may catch the 

Or, like obe<lient subjects, follow him 
To liis new kingdom of perpetual rest 

Duch. Ah, so much interest liave I in thy 

As I had title in thy noble husband ! 
I have bewept a worthy husband's death, 
And liv'd by looking on his images; M 

But now two mirrors of his prmcely sem- 
Are crack'd in j)ieces by malignant death, 
And I for comfort have but one false glass, ^ 
That grieves me when 1 see my shame in him. 
Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother, 
And hast the comfort of thy children left: 
But death liath snatched mv husband from 

mine arms, 
And pluck'd two cratches from my feeble 

hands, — 
Clarence and Edward. O, what cause have I — 
Thine being but a moiety of my moan — 60 
To over-go* thy plaints and drown thy cries! 
Son. Ah, aunt, you wept not forom* father's 

death ! 
How can we aid you with our kindred tears? 
Daugh. Our fatherless distress was left un- 

Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept ! 

Q. Eliz. Give me no help in lamentation; 
I am not Imrren to bring forth complaints: 
All springs retluce their currents to mine eyes, 
That I, being govern 'd by tlie watery moon, 
May send forth plenteous tears to drown the 

world ! 


All for my husband, for my dear loixl Edward ! ^ 
Children. Ah for our father, for our dear^ 

lord Clarence ! \ 

Duch, Alas for both, both mine, Edward; 

and Clarence ! \ 

Q. Eliz. AVhat stiy liiid I but Edwaixl? and^ 

he 's gone. J 

Children. What stiy liad we but CLirence?! 

and he 's gone. 
Duch, What stays had I but they? and' 

they are gone. 

s One/aUe gkum, i.e. her son Bichnrd, Duke of Gloster. 
* To over-go, to exceed. 


ACT II. SoexM 2. 


ACT II. Scene 2. 

Q. Miz, Was never widow had so dear^ a 


CJiUdren. Were never orphans had so dear 

a loss! 
Duch. Was never mother had so dear a 

Alas, I am the mother of these griefs I 80 

Their woes are parcell'd,^ mine is general. 
She for an Edward weeps, and so do I; 
I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: 
These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I; 
I for an Edward weep, so dc aot they: — 
Alas, you three, on me, thre ,io\d distress'd. 
Pour all your tears I I am your sorrow's nurse, 
^ And I will pamper it with lamentation. ^ 
Dor, Comfort, dear mother: God is much 

displeas'd so 

That you take with uii thankfulness his doing: 
In common worldiv things 't is call'd ungrate- 
With dull unwillingness to repay a debt 
Which with a bounteous hand was kindly 

Much more to be thus opposite with heaven. 
For it requires the royal debt it lent you. 
Riv. Madam, bethink you, like a careful 

Of the young prince your son: send straight 

for him; 
Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort 

Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's 

And plant your joys in living £kl ward's 

throne. lOO 

Enter Gloster, Buckingham, Stanley, 
Hastings, Katcliff, and ot/iers. 

Olo. [To Quceiii] Sister, have comfort: all of 
us have cause 
To wail the dimiuing of our shining star; 
But none can cure their harms by wailing 

them. — 
^f Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy; 
^I did not see your grace: — humbly on my 

I crave your blessing. 

1 Dear, used in a donble lense = " beloved," of the per- 
son lost; " Berere." of the loss itself, 
s PareeWd, i.e. divided amongst them; individaal. 


Duck, God bless thee; and put meekness in 
thy breast, > 

Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! 
Olo. Amen; — [Aside] and make me die a 
good old man ! — 
That is the butt end of a mother's blessing: 
I marvel that her grace did leave it out^ m 
Bud:. You cloudy princes and heart-sor- 
rowing peers. 
That bear this heavy tnutual load of moan, 
Now chear each other in each other's love: 
Though we have spent our harvest of thi^ 

We are to reap the harvest of his son. 
The broken rancour of your high-swoln 

But lately splinter'tl,^ knit and join'd to- 
Must gently be presei'\''d, cherish'd, and kept: 
Me seemeth good, that, with some little train. 
Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be 
fet* 121 

Hither to London, to be crown'd our king. 
Jhv. Why with some little train, my Loixl 

of Buckingham ? 
Buck. Mai-ry, my loixi, lest, by a multitude^ 
The new-heal'd wound of malice should break 

Q Wliich would be so much the more dangerous ' 
By how much the state's green and yet un-c 

goveniM : 
Where every horse beai-s his commanding 
rein, J 

And may direct his course as please himself, ' 
As well the fear of harm as harm apparent,^ / 
In my opinion, ought to Ije prevented. ] isi , 
Olo. I hope the king made peace with all ' 
of us; 
And the compdct is firm and true in me. 

Biv, And so in me; and so, I think, in all: 
t Yet, since it is but green, it should be put > 
To no apparent likelihood of breach, j 

Which haply by much company might be> 
urg'd: ^ 

Therefore I say with noble Buckingham, ' 
That it is meet so few should fetch the prince. • 
Ilast. And so say I. ] 140 . 

•SpUnter'd, ie. "joined with splints," like a broken 
limb. * Fet, fetched. » Apparent, evident 



(Jtu. Then be it bo; uiil gi> we to detenniiie 
Who thev Khali be that straight shall poet to 

Ludiow. 141 

'Q[r(> ItutAeu] Madam, — and you, my aister 

[To ^uwii],— will you go 
To give yotir censure*' in this Inuineas?^ 
[Kjfnnl 'ill ifjvept BvfUugham and Olotler. 
/fwit. My lord, whoever joumeys to the prince, 
Fur Clnd's sake, let not ua two stay at home^ 

For, by the way, I 'U sort* oi 
As indes' to the story we late talk'd of, 
To port the queen's proud kindred fioni the 
prince. iw 

Olo. My other aelf, my counsel's consistory,* 
My oracle, my projihet I^my dear cousin, 
I, as a child, will go by thy direction. 
Toward Ludlow then, for we '11 not stay be- 
hind. [Extunt. 

Qfk.ESE III. The tame. A itreet. 
EiUKr tiro Citiscnii, meeiiiiij. 
Firtt Cit. Good morrow, neighbour: whitlier 

away HO fafit? 
Scf.CU. Ipromiseyoulhardlyknowmyself: 
Firit Cit. Yea, — tliat the king is dead. 

. Hear von the news abn«d ? 

< Cmni'ory, pinpnlT - iptrlliul ui 

See. Cit. Ill news, by'r lady; seldom comes 
the better; 
I fear, I fear 'twill jirove a giddy" world. 

i')t/pr a tkinl CUuen. ', 

Third Cit. Neighbouni, God spee<i ; ; 

Firtt Cit. Give you gowl morrow, sir. ; 

Thinl Cit. IXith the news hold of good; 

King Edward's death! 

ACT II. Scene S. 


ACT II. Scene 4. 

Sec, Cii. Ay, sir, it is too true; God lielp, 

the while ! 
Third Cit. Then, magters, look to see a 

troublous world. 
First Cit. No, no; by God's good grace his 
son shall reign. lo 

Third Cit. Woe to that land that 's govem'd 

by a child ! 
Sec. Cit. In him there is a hope of govern- 

|Wliich,* in his nonage, council under him, 
I And, in his full and ripened years, himself, 
; No doubt, shall then, and till then, govern well. 
First Cit. So stooii the state when Henry '^ 
the Sixth 

^ Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. 
Third Cit. Stood the state so? No, no, 
good friends, (Jod wot;^ 
For then this land was famouslv enrich'd 
< With politic grave counsel; then the king 20 
^Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace. 
First Cit. Why, so hath this, both l)y his 

father and mother. 
Third Cit. Better it were they all came by 
his father. 
Or by his father there were none at all; 
For emulation now, who shall be nearest, 
J Will touch us all too near, if God j)revent not. 
' O, full of danger is the Duke of (tloster I 
/And the queen's sons and bi*others haught^ 
[ and proud : 

« And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule, 
(This sickly land might solace^ as before. 30 
( First Cit. Come, come, we feai* the worst ; 
J all will be well. 

Third Cit. When clouds are seen, wise men 
put on their cloaks; 
J When great leaves fall, then winter is at liand; 
; When the sun sets, who doth not look for night? 
'. Untimely storms make men expect a dearth. 
; All may be well; but, if God sort* it so, 
J T is more than we deserve, or I exi)ect 
f Sec. Cit. Truly, the hearts of men are full 
J of fear: 

/You cannot reason^ almost^ with a man 
<That looks not heavily and full of dread. 40 

1 Which, who. * Henry, a trisyllable here. 

s Qod tpot, God knowB. « Haxtght, haughty. 

* 5otoee=take comfort * Sort, ordain, 

f Re<uon, convene. * Almost ^tytn. 


Third Cit. Before the days of change, still ^ 

is it so: 41' 

By a divine instinct men's minds mistrust ^ 

Ensuing' dangers; as, by proof, we see ] 

The water swell before a boisterous storm. J 

But leave it all to God. — Whither away? i 

Sec. Cit. Marry, we were sent for to thei 

justicea ' 

Third Cii. And so was I: I'll bear vou! 

comi>any. [ Exeuiit. ] '> 

Q Scene I V^. The same. A rtxtm in the > 



Fitter the Archbishop of York, the young t 

Duke of York, Queen Elizabeth, and\ 

the Duchess of York. 

Arch. Last night, I hear, they rested at 
Nortliampton ; 
At Stony-Stratford they do lie to-night; 
To-morrow, or next day, they will be here. 
D\ich. I long with all my heart to see the 
I hope he is much gi'own since last I saw him. 
Q. Eliz. But I hear, no; they say my son of 
Has almost overta'eu him in his growth. 
York. Ay, mother; but I would not have 

it so. 
Ihich. Why, my young cousin, it is good to 

York. ( THindam, one night, as we did sit at 
supper, 10 

My uncle Rivei-s talk'd how I did grow 
More than my brother: "Ay," quoth my uncle 

" Small herbs have grace, great weeils do grow 



And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast, > 

Because sweet flowers are slow, and weeds) 

make liaste. > 


Du/ch. Good faith, good faith, the saying did ) 

not hold > 

In him that did object the stime to thee: ' 

He was the wretched'st*® thing when he was- 

young, I 

* Emuing, impending. 

!• Wrelehed^tt, most puny, most contemptible. 

ACT II. Soeiw 4. 


ACT II. Soeue 4. 

■ 8i» long a-growing and so leisurely, 
That, if his rule were true, he should be gra- 
' ciou& 20 

Arch. And so, uo doubt, he is, my gracious 

Dvuik, I hope he is; but yet let mothers 

York. Now, by my trothj if I had been re- 
I could have given my uncle's grace a flout, 
To touch his growth nearer than he touch'd 
Duck. How, my young York? I prithee, let 

me hear it. 
York. Marry, they say my uncle grew so 
That he could gnaw a cnist at two hours old: 
, T was full two years ere I could get a tooth. 
' Gramlam, this would have been a biting jest 
Dach. I prithee, y>retty York, who told thee 
this? 31 

York. Grandam, his nurse. 
Dnch. His nurse! why, slie was dead ere 

thou wast bom. 
York. If 't were not she, I cannot tell who 

told me. 
(^. Kliz. A jKirlous- lx)v: — go to, you ai-e too 

Dach. G<K>d madam, l)e not angry with the 

Q. Eliz. Pitchers liave ean*. 
Arch. Here comes a messenger. 

Eater a Messenger. 

What news? 
Mtu. Such news, my lord, as grieves me to 

V- ^^- How doth the prince ? 
Men. Well, madam, and in health. 

Duck. What is thy news? 4i 

MeM. Loni Rivers and Lord Grey are sent 
to Pomfret, 
\ With them Sir Thonuw Vaughan, prisoners. 

• Bad been renumbered, Le. "had had my ¥r]to about 
> Parlous, daogerous (corrupted from " perilous "> 

Duch. Who hath committed them? 
Mess. The mighty dukes 

Gloster and Buckingham. 

Q. ElU. For what offence? \ 

Mess. The sum of all I can I have dis-^ 

clos'd; ^ 

Why or for what tliese nobles were com- J 

mitted ^^ 

Is all unknown to me, my gracious lady. J 

Q. Eliz. Ay me, I see the ruin of my house! } 

The tiger now hath seiz'd the gentle bind; 50'. 

Insulting tyramiy begins to jet 

Upon' the innocent and aweless* throne: — 

Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre ! 

I see, as in a maj),* the end of all. 

DtLch. Accursed and unquiet wrangling^. 

tlays, ^ 

How many of you have mine eyes beheld I { 

My husband lost his life to get the crown; 

And often up and down my sons were toss'd, ■ 

For me to joy and weep their gain and loss: 

And being seated, and domestic broils 60 J 

Clean ° over- blown, themselves, the con-^ 

querors, s 

Make war upon themselves; brother to bi*o-I 

ther, ; 

Blood to blood, self against self: — O, prepos-/ 

teroiis J 

And frantic outrage, end thy damned spleen; / 

Or let me die, to look on earth no more ! / 

i^. Eliz. Come, come, my boy; we will to> 

sanctuarv. — ? 

Madam, farewell. ^ 


Stay, I will go with you. 

Q. Eliz. You have no cause. f 

Arch. [To the (^neett] My gracious lady, go;> 

And thither beai- your treasure and vour> 

For my jwrt, I '11 resign unto youi* grace 7 
Tlie seal I keep: and so betide to me 
Ah well I tender you and all of yours ! 
Come, I '11 conduct you to the sanctuaiy. 


3 To jet upon -to iuault 

* Aweleig, Le. intpiriug no awe. 

^Jfaj;- picture. ^^ Clean -completely. 


ACT III. Scene 1. 


ACT in. Soene 1. 


Scene I. London. A street. 

The trumpets sowid. Etiter the Prince of 
Wales, Gloster, Buckingham, Car- 
dinal BouRCHiER, Catbsbt, and others. 

Q Buck. Welcome, sweet prince, to London, 

to your chamber.*] 
Olo. Welcome, dear cousin," my thoughts' 
The weary way hath made you melancholy. 
Prince. No, uncle; but our crosses on the 
Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy: 
I want more uncles here to welcome me. 
I Olo. Q Sweet prince, th' untainted virtue of 
'■ your years 

■^Hath not yet iliv'd into the world's deceit; 
< Nor more ciin you distinguish of a man 
J Than of his outward show; which, God he 
; knows, 10 

> Seldom or never jumpeth with the heart. ] 
Tliose uncles which you want were dangerous; 
Your grace attended to their sugar'd words, 
But look'd not on the iwison of their heaila: 
God keep you from them, and from such false 
friends ! 
Prince. [Aside] Gtxl keej) me from false 
friends ! but they were none. 
j Q Glo. My lonl, the mayor of London comes 
; to greet you. 

Bfiter the Lord Mai/or and his Train. 

Mat/. God bless your grace with health and 

happy days I 
Prince. I tliank you, good my lord; — and 
thank vou alL 19 

; [Afaj/or and his Train retire. ] 

I thought my mother, and my brother York, 
Would long ere thi.s have met us on the way: 
Fie, what a slug^ is Hastings, that he comes not 
To tell us whether they will come or no ! 
Jiuck. And, in good time, here comes the 
sweating lord. 

1 Chambtr, i,e. camera regin. the " king's chamber," a 
name given to the metropolis. 
' Cotmn= kinsman. * Slvg, slnggard. 


Enter Hastings. 

Prince. Welcome, my lord: what, will our 

mother come? as 

Hast. On what occasion, God he knows, 

not I, 
The queen your mother, and your brother 

Have taken sanctuary: the tender prince 
Would fain have come with me to meet your 

grace, etJ 

But by his mother was perforce* withheld. 
Buck. Fie, what an indirect and peevish^ 

Is this of hers! — Lord cardinal, will your 

Persuade the queen to send the Duke of York 
Unto his princely brother presently ? 
If she deny," — Lonl Hastings, go with him. 
And from her jealous arms ])luck him perfaroe. 
Q Card. My Lord of Buckingham, if my weak 

Can from his mother win the Duke of York, 
Expect him here; but if she be obdiirate 
To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid W 
We should infringe the holy privilege 
Of blessed Kinctuary ! not for all this land 
Would I be guilty of so great a sin. 
Buck. You are too senseless-obstinate,^ my J 

lord, ) 

Too ceremonious and tinditional: \ 

Weigh it but with the grossness of this age, > 
You break not sanctuary in seizing him. ■ 

The benefit thereof is always granted 
To those whose dealings havedeserv'd the place. 
And those who have the wit to claim the place: f 
This prince hath neither claim'd it nor de-i 

serv'd it; 51 

Therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it: ' 
Then, taking him from thence that is not- 

there, *; 

You break no privilege nor charter there. 
Oft have I heaixl of sanctuary-men ; 
But sanctuary-children ne'er till now. ( 

ft Peevish, capricious. 

* Perforce, forcibly. 

• Deny, refuse. 

7 Senselets-obttinaU, i.e. unreasonably obstiDaic. 


t Card. My lonl, you ahall o'er-nile mj miud 

rCome U11, Lord Hastings, will yoa go with mel 

/ Jl-ist. I go, my lord. 

I, /'riiicf. Uuod lords, make all the apeedy 

{ haute you may. ^ ao 

[/^tunC Ciin/iiuil and Hattin;/!. 
.Say, uncle Gloster, if our brother come, 
Where sluill we sojouru till our coronation '. 

Gto. WhereitseemsbeatuntoyourroyEilself. 
If 1 may coiuuel yon, aome Jay or two u 
Your highness shall repose you' nt the Tower; 
Then where you please, and shall be thought 

most fit 
For your beat health and recreation. 

Prmtv. 1 do not like the Tower, of any 

[ Did Julius CiesBr build that place, uiy loni ? 

linei. He diti, my gracious lord, begin that 
place; lo 

Wliich, since, succeeding ages have re-edified. 
Prinm. Is it upon rec6rd, or else reporte<l 
-ely from age to age, he built itt 
't. Upon record, my gracious lord. 
iicf. But say, my lord, it were not register'd, 
Methinks the truth should live from age to age, 
As 't were retail'd' to all posterity, 
Even Ut the general all-ending day. 

• XtMiM^relolil. 

). [Atide] So 1* 

KD young, they say, do'. 

Prince. What say you, uncle? se' 

(j'U). I say, without characters,* fame lives' 


[Atide] Thus, like the formal Vice,' Iniquity, '■ 

I moralize two meanings in one word. } 

J'riHCf.2 That Julius Cwaar was a faminis; 

• WiOiimt dtariettn. i.t. wiUiont tRiDg preterrcil In 
viitlen clianctcn. 
> Via. it. tbe iDDl. 1 chlff comic cluncler in the olil 

ACT 111. Scene 1. 


ACT III. Sk»M 1. 

With what his valour did enrich his wit, 8!i 
His wit set down to make his valour live: 
Death makes no conquest of this conqueror; 
For now he lives in fame, though not in life. — 
I '11 tell you what, my cousin Buckingham, — 

Bud:. What, my gracious lord? 90 

Prince, An if I live until I be a man, 
I 'U win our ancient right in France again, 
Or die a soldier, as I liVd a king. 

Olo. [Asicle] Short summers lightly^ have a 
forwanl spring. 

Buck. Now, in good time,* here comes the 
Duke of YorL 

EtUer YoKK^witA the Cardinal and Hastings. 

Prince. Richard of York! how fares our 

noble brother? 
York. Well, my dear lord; so must I call 

you now. 
Prince. Ay, brother, — to our grief, as it is 

Too late^ he died that might have kept tluit 

title, w 

Which by his death hath lost much majesty. 
Olo. How fares our cousin, noble Loixl of 

York. I tliauk you, gentle uncle. O, my lord, 
You said that idle weeds are fast in growth: 
The prince my brother hath outgrown me far. 
(llo. He hath, my lord. 
York. And therefore is he idle? 

(JU). O, my fair cousin, I must not say so. 
York. Then is he more beholding* to you 

than I. 
Olo. He may conmiand me as my sovereign; 
But you have jwwer in me as in a kinsman. 
York. I pray you, uncle, give me this — 

[platfiny vrith Gl osier's stcordbdt—then 

touching the dagger"] this dagger. no 

Olo. My dagger, little cousin? with all my 

Prince. A beggar, brother? 
York. Of my kind uncle, that I know will 

Being but a toy, which is no grief to give.* 

1 Lightly = commonly. 

^ In good timet happily. * i/aCe= recently. 

* Beholding ^beholden, i.e. tinder obligation. 

* Which is no grief to give, i.e. which it causes no regret 
tu gire away. 


Glo. A greater gift than that I '11 give my 

cousin. 115 

York. A greater gift ! — O, that 's the sword 

to it 
Olo. Ay, gentle cousin, were it light enougL 
York. O, then, I see you '11 part but with 
light gifts; 
In weightier things you '11 say a beggar nay. 
Olo. It is too heavy for your grace to wear. 
York. I weigh it lightly ,° were it heavier. 
Olo. What, would you have m^- weajxim 
little lord? 122 

York. I would, that I might thank yi>u as— 

as — you call me. 
Olo. How? 
York. Little. 

Prince, My Lord of York will still be cruas 
in talk: — 
Uncle, your grace knowo how to bear with him. 
York. You mean, to bear me, not to bear 
with me: — 
Uncle, my bi*otlier mocks both you and me; 
Because that I am little, like an ape, m 

He thinks that you should bear me on your 
[^Buck. [Aside to Hastings] With wliat a 
sharp provide<l^ wit he reasons! 
To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle. 
He prettily and aptly taunts himself: 
So cunning and so young is wonderful.] 

Olo. My loixl, will 't please you jkiss along? 
Myself and my good cousin Buckingham 
Will to vour mother, to entreat of her 
To meet vou at the Tower and welcome vou. 
York. What will you go unto the Tower, 
my lonl? i« 

Prince. My lord protector needs will have 

it so. 
York. I shall not sleej) in quiet at the Tower. 
Olo. Why, what should you fear? 
York. Marry, my uncle Clarence' angiy 
My grandam told me he was munler'd there. 
Prince. I fear no uncles dead. 
Olo. Nor none that live, 1 hojw. 
Prince. An if they live, I hope I need not 

• / toeigh it lightly ^ <•«• I i^t little ralue on it 
7 />rovut«d = furnished befurehaud, or perhaps^ well* 



ACT III. Sotna 2. 

ly lord; and with a heavy heart, 
them, go I unto the Tower, loo 
et. Exeunt Prince, York\ Hastin</8, 
•diruily and others; also the Lord 
yor and his Train. 
nk you, my lord, this little prating 

ensed^ by his subtle mother 
i scorn you thus opprobriously ? 
oubt, no doubt : O, 't is a parlous^ 

ingenious, for^-anl, capable:^ 
mother's, from the top to toe. 
11, let them rest— Come hither, 


m as dee]) to effect wliat we intend 

) conceal what we impfiil: 

St our reasons urg'd upon the 


st thou ? is it not an easv matter 
•d William Hastings of our mind, 
ilment of this noble duke 
oyal of this famous isle ? 
for his father's siike so loves thv 

not l>e won to aught against him. 
at think'st thou, then, (»f St'inley? 

R'ill do all in all as Hastings duth. 
11, then, no more but this: go, 
ere far off, sound thou IjonX Has- 


I stand affected to our purpose; 

n him to-morrow to the Tower, 

the coronation 

it find him tnictable to us, 

im, and tell him all our rejusons: 

leu, icy-cold, unwilling, 

X); aiwl so break off your talk, 

notice of his inclination : 

orrow hold divided councils, 

•self shalt highly be employ 'd.] 

nen<l me to Ix)nl William: tell 

tesby, 181 

knot of dangerous adversaries 

re let blood at Pomfret Castle; 

instilled. s Parloiut, danprerous. 

e. of good capacity; intelligent. 

And bid my lord, for joy of this good news, 

Give Mistress Shore one gentle kiss the moi'e. 

Buck. Good Catesby, go, effect this business 

soundly. isti 

Cote, My good lords both, with all the heed 

I can. 
Olo, Sliall we hear from you, Catesby, ere 

we sleep? 
Cate. You sliall, my lord. 
(ilo. At Crosby Place, there shall you find 
us both. [Exit Catesby. 

BiicL My lord, what shall we do, if we per- 
ceive 191 
Lord Hastings will not yield to our compl6ts?* 
Olo, Chop off his head, — something we will 
And, look, when 1 am king, claim thou of me 
Th' eai'ldom of Herefonl, and the moveables 
Whereof the king my brother stood possessed. 
Buck. I '11 claim that j)romi8e at your grace's 

Olo. And look to have it yielded witli all 
Come, let us sup l>etimes, that afterwaj*ds 
We may digest our c6mplots in some form. 


Scene II. Before Lord Hasting^ house. 

Eater a Messenger. 

Mess. My lord I my lord I — [Knocking. 
Hast, [iri^^i^i] Who knocks? 
Mess. One from the Lord Stanley. 
Ilast. [\Vithin'\ What is 't o'clock? 
Mess. Upon the stroke of four. 

Enter Hastings. 

IJast. C-annot thy master sleep these tedious 

Me*». So it appears by that I have to say. 
First, he commends him to your noble self. 
Hast. What then ? 

Mess. Then certifies your lordship, that thi» 
night 10 

He dreamt the boar ha^l rased* off his helm: 
Q Besides, he says there are two councils held;; 
And that may be determin'd at the one 
Which may make you and him to rue at the^ 
other.] \ 

4 CompUtt, concerted plana. 


* JUued^toTTL 


TLerefure lie Miide to know your lordsbif 

pleiwure, — 
If presently you will take horse with bim. 

And with ;iU speed post witli him Uj«-ard tbe 

To ditm the dniiger his soul ilivinea. 
Hail. (^^ fellow, go, return unto thy lonl; 

[Bid him not fear the 8e))arated councils: -x' 
His honour and myself ore at the oue. 
And at the otlier is my good friend C^t^aby; ; 
Where nothing can proceed that touchcth u» 
Whereof I xliall not have iutelligent^e. ] 
Tell him his fean are shallow, without iii- 

And for his dreuius, I wonder he's so Niniple 
To trust the mockery of unquiet sluiuliers : 
T flv the Iwor before the boor jmrsueM, 
W re to inveiisu the buir t« follow lus 
A d make pursuit where he did menu uo chsM. 
bid thy niHHter rise and come tu lue; :.l 
\ d we will Lotli toKctlier tu the Tower. 
Where he hIiiiU tiee the lioar will use us kindly. 
Veu. 1 'II go, my lord, and teil him what 
jou auy. [Enl. 

it news, what newx, in tliis our totteriiig 

C . It in a iiieliiig world, indeed, my lonl: 
And I believe will never HlAiid upright 
T U ehnnl wear the garland of the realm.' *) 

II lit. llow 1 wenr the garland '. dost thou 

II the c 


good lord. 

// tt. 1 11 hme this crown of mine cut trvi 

u y Bhoiildem 

Bef X 'II Nee the crown a<> foul luieplac'd. 

B t c; iiHt tliou gneiM that he doth aim at it^ 

my life; and ho]>e9t to find yui 

f r 


I {K his imrty^ for the gain thereof : 
A.nd tliereujiou lie seiidH you this giwd new*,— 
Tl t hiH saiiiG very day your enemies, 
Ih k ndredof theiiueeii,muHtdieat I'limfrFt 
// at. Indeed, I am no mourner for tliat nrn, 
Be use they liuTC been still* my advenuie 
Bu that I '11 give my voice on Richard's liii 
To bar iny master's heirs in true descent, 
CJoil knows I will not do it to the death* 

ACT III. Boeno 2. 


ACT III. tSceue 2. 

( Vi/f . Gknl keep your lordship in that gracious 

mind ! 
HitM. But I shall laugh at this a twelve- 
iu<iiith hence, — 
That they who brought me in^ my master's hate, 
I live to look upon their tragedy. 69 

Well, C^tesby, ere a fortnight make me older, 
I '11 send some i)acking that yet think not on 't 
Cate. Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious 
When men are unprei)ar'd and look not for it. 
IlftM. O monstrous, monstrous! and so falls it 
With Rivers, Vauglian,* Grey: and so 'twill do 
With some men else, that think themselves as 

As thou and I ; who, as thou know'st, are dear 
To princely Richard and to Buckingham. 70 
Cati. The princes both make high account 
of you,— 
[.Ifiiiff] For they account his head upon the 
Hast. I know they do ; and I have well de- 
served it 

Enter Stanley. 

<.'ome on, come on ; where is your boar-spear, 

Fear you the boar, and go so unprovided ? 
Stnn, My lonLgood morrow; — good morrow, 

Catesby: — 
You may jest on, but, by the holy rood,* 
I do not like these several councils, I. 

HoM. Mv lord, 
I hold my life as dear as you do yours ; so 
And never in my days, I do pn^test, 
Was it more precious to me than 't is now ; 
Think you, but that I know our state secure, 
I would be so triumphant as I am ? 
,Stan. The lords at Pomfret, when they rode 

from London, 

Were jocund, and supposed their states were 
sure, — 

C And they, indeed, had no cause to mistrust : 
But yet, you see, how soon tlie day o'ercast 
This sudden stab of rancour I misdoubt:^] 

1 /ii=into. s Vaughan. pronoanced aa a diaaylUble. 

• Tk€ bridge, le. London Bridge, where the heads of 
traitnn were expoeed. 

* The holy rood, i.e. the cmciflx. « MUdoubt, mistrust 

Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward I 
What, sliall we toward the Tower? the day is 
spent 91 

Hast. Come, come, have with you.° — Wot" 
you what, my lord? 
To-day the lords you talk of are beheaded. 
A^tan. They, for their truth, might better 
wear their heads 
Than some that liave accus'd them wear their 

liats. — 
But come, my lord, let us away. 

: Enter a PurmicaiU. 

Hast. Go on before ; I '11 talk with this good } 

fellow. [Exeunt Stanley and Cateshy. f 

How now, sirrah! how goes the world with thee? ) 

Purs. The better that your lordship please : 

to ask. 

Hast. I tell thee, man, 't is better with me now ; 

Than when thou mett'st me last where now we '. 

meet : loi ' 

Then was I going prisoner to the Tower, 

By the suggestion^ of the queen's allies ; 

But now, I tell thee — keep it to thyself — ^ 

This day those enemies arc jmt to death, ! 

And I in l>etter state than e'er I was. > 

Purs. God hold it, to your honoui*'s good) 

content ! / 

Hast. Gramercy,® fellow : there, drink that > 

for me. [Thrawing him his purse. ) 

Purs. Goil save your lordship! [Exvt.^ 

Enter a Priest. 

Pr. Well met, my lord ; I 'm glad to see your > 

honour. iioj 

Hast. I thank thee, good Sir John, with all.' 

my heart. 

I 'm in your debt for your hist exercise; 

Come the next Sabbath, and I will content you. , 

[They confer privately in whispers.'. 

Enter Buckingham. 


BiLck. [After vatching Hastings and Priest]'^ 

What, tt'ilking with a ])rie8t, lonl chamberlain! : 

Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the; 

priest ; ^ 

Your honour hath no shriviiiir work in hand, i 

* Have with you, let me have (keep) with you = come 
alonpT. 7 Wot, know. « Snggestion, instigation. 

» Gramercy, from Fr. grand merci=m\iLc\i thanks. 


AlT III. Sccun 


( llatt. Good fnitlMind when I met thix holr man, 
i The men jou talk of came into my mind. — 
iWliat, go you toward the Towerl 
' Rttct. I do, my lord ; but long 1 cannot stay 
' there : lai 

'I shuU return before your lonlittiip thence. 

llatt. Nay, like enough, for I stay dinner: 

Biict. \^Atide\ And Hiipper too, although thou ' 
kuow'at it noL — 
Come, will yon go ( 

llaU. I '11 wait n\iOD your lordaliip. [EjrtHnt^ 

t Scene III. Pomfret. Before the aiidt: 

Eiifr Ratclifk, irith n ffnard, mndwtinij 
Rivers, Gret, and Vauqhas tu v.eiviitioH. ' 
/Ui: Sir Riehanl Rjitoliff, let me tell you 
Tii-diiy iiliiilt thou lichnld a suhjrct die 
K'lr truth, for duty, and for loyalty. 
(Irvv. (iiHl kee]i the prince from all tlie pack 

A knot you are of damnefl blowl-aiitkers. 
VaugA. You live that hIl-lH cr>* woe fi)r thin 

Filial an<l oroinous tij noble pcew! 
Witliin the guilty cluHiu'e' of thy wallx i" 
Itiehiinl the Seeond here waa hack'd tode«lli: 
AikI, for more nlaitder to thy diMnal Beat, 
We give thee up our guiltlefw Wood to drink. ■ 
t/reif. Now Margaret's cunie is fall'ii upem 

When she excUim'd on HaatiugB, you, and !■ 
Forrtandingbywhen EifhanlBtabb'iIher*»-' 

ACT III. SouM 3. 


ACT III. 8oeD0 4. 

Itie. Then curs'd ahe Richard too; then 
curs'd she Backiugham, 
Tlien ciire'd she Hastings: — O, remember, God, 
To hear her prayer for them, as now for us ! 
And for my sister and her princely sons, 20 
Be 8atisiie<i, dear God, with our true blood, 
Which, as thou know'st, unjustly must be spilt 
Rat. Make haste; the hour of death is ex- 
Rir. Come, Grey, — come, Vauglian, — let us 
here embrace: 
Farewell, luitil we meet again in heaven. 

[Exeunt. ] 

Scene IV. London, A room in the Tower. 

BucKiiroHAM, Stanley, Hastings, the Bishop 
of Eh/^ RATCurp, Lovel, and others, sit- 
ting at a table; OffiAxrs of the Coaiicil 

Ma§L Now, noble peers, the cause why we 
an met 
1% to deteimine of the coronation. 
In God's name, speak, — when is the royal day? 

Buet, Is all things* ready for the royal time? 

Stan, It is; and wants but nomination. ^ 

Ely, To-morrow, then, I judge a happy day. 

Bmek Who knows the lord protector's mind 
Who is most inward with^ the noble duke? 

Eiy. Your grace, we think, should soonest 
know his mind. 

Bud'. [We know each other's faces : for our 
hearts, 10 

He knows no more of mine thiin I of yours ; 
; Or I of his, my lord, than you of mine. — ] 
Lonl Hastings, you and he are near in love. 

J/ast. I thank his grace, I know he loves 
iiie well ; 
But, for his purpose in the coronation, 
I liave not soiuided him, nor he dehver'd 
His gracious pleasure any way therein: is 
But yriu, my noble lords, may name the time ; 
And in the duke's behalf I '11 give my voice, 
AVhich, I ]»resume, he '11 take in gentle part. 

I Expiate, Le. on the point of expixing. 
^AU tkim^B, bere=eTei7thing. 

3 Wanti 6%U m ww taa h on, ue. only wanti the ctoy to be 
* Inward ir»<A=: intimate with, in the confidence of. 
vr>L, III. 

Elt/. In happy time, here comes the duke 
himself. 2.2 

Knter Gloster. 

Olo. My noble lords aiul cousins all, good 
I have been long a sleejier : but, 1 trusty 
My absence doth neglect no great design, 
Which by my jn'eseiice might have l>een con- 
BiU'k. flail yuu not come \\\x)\\ your cue, 
mv lord, 
William Loixl Hjistings had pronounc'd your 

jKirt, — 

I mean, your voice, — for crowning of the king. 

(ilo. Tlian my l^.)rd HjustingH no man might 

be bolder; 30 

HLs lordship knows nie well, and loves me 

well. — 
QMy lord of Ely, when I w«is last in Holl>om,^ 
1 saw gooil strawberries in your garden there: 
I do beseech vou send for .some of them. 
Ely. Many, and will, my lonl, with all my 
heart [E.cit.'y, 

Olo, Cousin of Buckingham, a word with 
you. [Tales hi /n a^ide. 

Catesby hath soundetl Hastings in our busi- 
And finds the Uisty gentleman so hot, 
That he will lose his head ere give consent 40 
His master's child, as woi-shipful ^ he terms it. 
Shall lose the royalty of England's throne. 
Buck. Withdmw youi*8elf awhile ; I '11 go 
with you. 

[E:vit Gloster, folio iced bf/ Buckingham. 
^Stan. We have not yet set down this day 
of triumph. { 

To-morrow, in my judgment, is t<H> sudden ; ' 
For I myself am not so well provided 
As else I would be, were the day prolong'd.^ ' 

lie-enter Bishop of Ely. ■ 

Eli/. Where is my lord the Duke of Gloster? 
I have sent for these strawljerries. ] { 

Ilast. His gi*ace looks cheerfully and smooth 
to-<Liy ; 50 

There 's some conceit or other likes him well, 

' Worthip/ul, used adverbially. 
« Prolonrfd, postponed. 

zlQ 57 


When lie doth bid good- 

I think there 'a ne'er a. man in Chriat«ndom 
Can leaser hide his lore or hate than ha ; 
For by Lis face straight shall you know h 

Stan. What of bis heart perceive you in h 

with such 

By any likelihood' he show'd to-day) 

/{ast. Marry, that with no man here he'i 
offended ; n 

For, were be, be had shown it in his looks. 

Ile-enler Glc 
Oto. I pray yc 

:er and Bl'CKINOBav. 
all, tell me what they de- 

That do consi>ire my deatli with devilish plots 
Of dawned witchcraft, and that have prevaii'd 
Upon my body with their hellish chanust 
Jfati. The tender love I bear your grace, 

Makes me most forward in this noble presence 
To doom th' offenders : whoaoe'er they be, 
1 say, my lord, they have deserved death. 

I Likttiieo(t, ippMCMicc, muillMt ilgn. 

(I'lo. Then be your eyes the witness of their 

evil: a 

Look how I am bewitch'd ; behold mine ami 

Is, like a blasted sapling, wither'd up : 

And this is Edward's wife, that monatruu* 

Consorted* with thnt luirlot strumpet Shore, 
That )iy their witchcraft thus have marked nw. 

' Coiuorltd, u»clit«d. 



ACT III. Scene 5. 

If they have done this thing, my 
cious lord, — 

If! thou protector of this damned 
thou to me of "ifs"? Thou art a trai- 


his head I — now, by Saint Paul, I swear 
ot dine until I see the same. — 79 

ad Ratcliff, look that it be done : — 
t, that love me, rise and follow me. 
[^Exeunt all, except Ilastui^s, Lovely 
and Ratdiff. 
Woe, woe for England! not a whit 

00 fond,^ might have prevented this. 
jdid dream the boar did rase^ his helm; 
lid scorn it, and disdain to fly: 

imes to-day my foot-cloth horse did 


jrted when he look*d upon the Tower, 

to bear me to the slaughter-house. 

1 need the priest that spake to me: 
epent I told the pursuivant, 90 
aiiimphing, how mine enemies 

at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd, 
nyself secure in grace and favour. 
aret, Margaret, now thy heavy curse 
id on' iX)or Hastings' wretched head I 
Come, come, dispatch; the duke would 
at dinner : 

short shrift ; he longs to see your head. 
] O momentary grace of mortal men, 
tre more hunt for than the grace of God ! 
ulds his hope in air of your good looks, 
ke a drunken sailor on a mast, loi 

with every nod, to tumble down 
i fatal bowels of the deep. 
Come, come, dispatch ; 't is bootless to 

[O bloody Richard ! — miserable Eng- 

esy the fearfull'st time to thee 
er wretched age hath look'd ujxm. — ] 
ad me to the block; bear him my head: 
lile at me who shortly slial) be dead.^ 


foolish. s Ram, tear with his tuaki. 

led on, has fallen on. 

tmiU, Ac.,i.e. they who shortly shall be dead 
M, DOW smile at roe. 

Scene V. The same. The Tower-walls, 

Enter Gloster aiid Buckingham, in rusty 
armour, marvellous ill-favoured, 

Olo, Come, cousin, canst thou quake, and 
change thy colour. 
Murder thy breath in middle of a word, 
And then begin again, and stop again. 
As if thou wert distraught^ and mad with 
Biick, Tut, I can counterfeit the deep tra- 
Speak and look back, and pry on every side, 
TYemble and start at wagging of a straw, 
Litending^ deep suspicion : ghastly looks 
Are at my service, like enforced smiles; 
And both are ready in their offices, . lO 

At any time, to grace my stratagems. 
But what, is Catesby gone? 

Olo. He is; and, see, he brings the mayor 

Enter the Lord Mayor and Catesbt. 

Buck, Lord mayor, — 

(Jlo, Look to the drawbridge there ! 

[Drums heard vnthout. 
Buck. Hark ! a drum. 
(Jlo. Catesby, overlook the walls. 
Buck. Lord mayor, the reason we have sent 

for you, — 
Glo. [Looking over the walls] Look back, 

defend thee, — here are enemies. 
Bu/ik. God and our innocence defend and 

guard us ! 20 

Glo. Be patient, they are friends, — Eatdiff 

and LoveL 

Enter Lovel and Ra-Tcliff, wilh Hastings' 


[^Lov. Here isthe head of that ignoble traitor, ] 
The dangerous and unsuspected Hastings.^ ^ 

Olo. So dear I lov'd the man, that I must 
I took him for the plainest harmless creature 
That breath'd upon the earth a Christian ; 
[Made him my book, wherein my soul recorded ) 
The history of all her secret thoughts: \ 

* Distraught, distracted. 

• /n<en<f»ii^= pretending, simulating. 




}So smooth he daub'J Lis vice with show of 

^That, his apparent' open guilt omitted, — at 
(I mean, hia convenntion' with Shore's wife, — 
'He liv'd from all attainder^ of auupect*] 
Jlitct. Well, well, he wa8 the covert'st shel- 
tet'd' trait->r 
That eper liv'd— Look yon, my Lord mayor. 
Would you imagine, or almoat* believe, — 

tre 't not tliat, by great preservation. 
We live to tell it you,— this subtle traitor 
This day liad plotted, in the council- house. 
To muixler me and my good LonI of GlosterT 
2f(iy. Had he done so ) W 

Oh. What, think you we are Turks or 
Or tliat we would, against the form of law, 
H'roceed thus rashly in the villain's death, 

But that the ijitreme [leril of tlie case, 4i 

The peace of Bnglau<l and our persons' safety, 
Eilforc'd 118 to this eiecntion 1 

Mai/. Now, fair befall you ; he deserv'd llis 
j[And your good gniccs both have well pro- 
'( ceeded, 
^To warn false truiton from tlie like attempts. 

I Jltaiiidrr. laliit * Smptel. uiif 

I Cattrl'it ^ilUr'd, inMt HcnUy hlilileu. ■ 

Had: I never luuk'd for better at hishsniU 

After he once fell in with Mistrena Short-, a 

Glo. Yet had we not detemiin'd he nhoiiU 

Until your lordship cnnie to see his end; 
Which now thelovinghasteof these our/riewi* 
Soiucwiiat against our meaning, have jm- 

Because, my lord, we wiiidd haveliad yon hesnf^ 

M 5. 


ACT III. ttoena 6. 

speak, aiid timorously confess 

r aiid the purpose of his treasons; 

light well have signified the same 

itizens, who ha\)\y may co 

e us in him, and wail his deatlL 

it, my good lord, your grace's word 


I^ had seen, and heard him R|)e2ik; ^ 

t doubt, light noble princes both, 

quaint our duteous citizens 

3ur just proceedings in this case. 

nd to that end we wish'd your lonl- 


le censures of the carping world. 

at since you come too late of our 

• what you hear we did intend: 7u 
r good lord mayor, we bid farewell. ] 

[Alri^ Lord Mai/or. 

after, after, cousin Buckingliam. 

towards Guildhall hit.*s Iiim in all 

oar meetest vantage of the time, 
bastardy of Edwards children: 
how Edward put to death a citizen, 
.ying he would make his son 
czowii; meaning, indeed, his house, 
the sign therer>f, was termed 8t>. ] 
urge his hateful luxiu*y,* W) 

1 appetite in change of lust; 
fetched unto their servants, daugh- 

e his raging eye or savage heart, 
>ntn>l, lusted to make a j)rey. ] 
a need, thus far come near my 

when that mv mother went with 

atiate Edwanl, noble York 

y father then had w^ars in France; 

ue computation of the time, 

: the issue was not his begot; 90 

1 appeared in his lineaments, 

ing like the noble duke my father: 

this s[)aringly, as 't were far off; 

y lonl, you know my mother lives. 

r L > 0/ our intent = for our purpose. 

, i.e. in all haste; as we say "post haste." 
ge by inference, insinuate. 
«. iMdvionioeat, profligacy. 

Bucl: Doubt not, my lord, I '11 play the orator 
As if the golden fee for which I plead 
Were for myself: and so, my lord, adieu. 
(jflo. If you thrive well, bring them to Bay- 
nard's Castle; 
Where you shall find me well accompanied 99 
With reverend fathersandwell-learned bishops. 
Bud: I go; and towards tliree or four o'clock 
Look for the news that the Guildhall affords. 

Oh. Go, Lovel, with all siieed to Doctor 
Shaw, — 
[To Catesbt/] Go thou to Friar Penker; — bid 

them both 
Meet me within this hour at Baynai'd's Castle. 
[Kveunt Lord., Catcshy^ and Ratcliff, 
Now will 1 in, to tiike some privy order, 
To dniw the bnits of Clarence out of sight; 
And to give notice that no manner j>ei*son^ 
Have any time recourse unto the princes. 


Q Scene VI. The same. A street. 


Kutcr a Scrivener. 

Scn'v. Here is th' indictment of the good] 

Lord Hastings; <; 

Which in a set hand fairly is engross'd, 

That it may be to-day read o'er in Paul's. 

And mark how well the seijuel hangs to 

gether: — 
Eleven hours I have spent to writ^i it over. 
For yesternight by C^tesby was it sent me ; 
The precedent' was full as long a-doing : 
And yet within these five hours Hastings^ 
liv'd, \ 

Untiiinted,* unexamined, free, at liberty. > 

Here 's a good world the while ! Why, who s > 


so groes' 


That cannot see this pal^Mible device ? 
Yet who so bold but says he sees it not? 
Bad is the world ; and idl will come to naught!^ 
When such ill dealing must be seen in> 
thought i<>] [ii>iV.{ 

« No manner peraon=no manner of person. 
f Precedent^ i.e. the first draft of the indictment 
B Untainted, uncharged with any crime. 
*Oro$t, dulL 

K) Seen in Uiought, i.e. in silence, witliout taking any 
visible noUoe of it 


ACT III. Sc«ui ^. 


Enter, from the cattU, Globtbb, and, &om 
another door, BDcKiMOttAH, meeting him. 
Glo. How now, how now ! what say the 

Buet. Now, by the holy mother of our Lord, 
The citizens are mum, wty not a wotd. 

Glo. Touch'd you the bastardy of Edwafd's 

children? 4 

Bvck. I did ; with his contrict with I^y 

And his contrict by deputy in France ; 
QTh' iiiaatiate greedinees of his desires. 
Anil his enforcement of the city wives; 
His tyranny for trifles ; his own bastardy,— 
As being got, your father then in France, 10 
And his resemblance, being not like the duke :' 
Withal I did infer your lineaments, — 
Being the right idea of your father. 
Both in your form and nobleness of mind ;] ' 
Ijnid open all your victories in Scotland, 
Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace. 
Your bounty, virtue, fair humility ; 
Iiideeil, left nothing fitting for your jiurpoee 
irntoui^'d, or slightly bandied, in discourse : 
And when my oratory <lrew toward end, » 
I bade them that did love their country's gnwl 
Cry,"God save Richard, England's mjal king!" 

Ulo. And did they m>] 

ISvck. No, so God help me, they spake not 

But, like dumb atatuas or breathing stones, 
Star'd each on other, and lookVl deadly pal*. 
Which when I saw, I reprehended them; 
And aak'd the mayor what meant this wilful 

silence ; 
His answer was, — the jieojile were not nsed 
To be s])oke to, but by the recortler. » 

Then be was urg'd to tell my tale again,— 
"Thus saith the iluke, thus hath the dnk« 

inferr'd ;" 
But nothing apoke In warrant from himself. 
[When he had done, some followers of mine 

At lower end of the hall, hurl'd up their ops.. 
And some ten voices cried, "God save Kingi 

Richard '. " 
And tlms I took the vantage of those few.— ; 
" Thanks, gentle citizens and friends," quoth I;; 
" This general applause and cheerful shout ; 
Argues your wisdom and your love to Richani:'': 
And even here brake off, and came away. ] <i' 

Glo. What tongueless blocks were they! 
would they not speak 1 

B«rl. No, by my troth, my lord, 

I Tout Ou nUMgn c/, ut. took adruilis* «(. 

ACT III. SooDe 7. 


ACT III. Soene 7. 

(Jlo, Will not the mayor, then, and his 

brethren, come? 44 

Buck. The mayor is here at hand. Intend ^ 

some fear ; 

Be not you spoke with but by mighty suit : 

And look you get a prayer-book in your hand. 

And stand between two churchmen, good my 

For on that ground^ I '11 make a holy descant:^ 
And be not easily won to our request ; 5o 

Play the maid's part, — still answer nay, and 
take it. 

<Jfo. I go ; and if you plead as well for them I 
As I can say nay to thee for myself, j 

No doubt we'll bring it to a happy issue. 
BuA: Go, go, up to the leads ; the lord 
mayor knocks. [Exit Glo8tt;r, 

Enter the Lonl Mat/or, Aldermen^ and 


Welcome, my lord : I dance attendance here ; 
I think the duke ^"ill not be spoke withal."* 

Enter J from the atstle, Catesbit. 

Now, C/at<^by, what says your lord to my 
requeHt ? 
Cate. He doth entreiit your grace, my nol)le 
To visit him to-moiTOW or next day : - go 

He is within, with two right-reverend fathers. 
Divinely bent to meditation ; 
And in no worldly suit would he be mov'd. 
To draw him from his holy exercise. 

Bud. Return, good Catesby, to the gracious 
Tell him, myself, the mayor and aldermen, 
In deep designs and matters of great moment. 
No less importing than our general good. 
Are come to have some conference with his 
Cate. I 'II signify so much unto him straight. 

Buck. Ah, ha, my lord, this prince is not an 
£dward ! 71 

13 He is not lolling on a lewd day-bed, 
/ But on his knees at meditation ; 
' Not dallying with a brace of courtezans, 


But meditating with two deep divines ; 75 < 
Not sleeping, to engross^ his idle body. 
But praying, to enrich his watchful soul : ^ 
Happy were England, would this virtuouA 

Take on himself the sovereignty thereof ; 
But, sure, I fear we shall not win him to it. so 
May. Marry, God defend^ his grace shoukl 

say us nay ! 
Budc. I fear he will: here Catesby comea 

again ; — 

Re-enter Catesby. 

Now, Catesby, what says his grace ? 

Cate. He wonders to what end you have 
Such trooi)8 of citizens to come to him. 
His gnice not being warn'd thereof before: 
He fears, my lord, you mean no good to him. 

Buck. Q Sony I am my noble cousin should \ 
Su8[>ect me, that I mean no good to him : ] 
By heaven, we come to him in perfect love; w> 
And so once more return and tell his grace. 

[Exit Catcfhy. 
When holy and devout religious men 
Are at their beads,^ 't is much to draw them 

thence, — 
So sweet is zealous contemplation. 

Enter Gloster, in a gallery above, Iwticeen 

tiro Bishops. 

Catesby returns. 

May. See, where his grace stands 'tween 
two clergymen I 

Bud'. [Two props of virtue for a Cliristiaui 
To stay him from the fall of vanity:] 
And, see, a book of prayer in his hand, — 
True ornaments to know* a holy maiL — 
Famous Plantagenet, most gracious prince, 100 
Lend favourable ear to our request ; 
And pardon us the interruption 
Of thy devotion and right Christian zeal. 

Q 67o. My lord, there needs no such ajwlogy : ^ 
I rather do beseech you pardon me, \ 

Who, earnest in the service of my God, ^ 

I /ntenda pretend. 
* Dewemnt » harmony. 

s bounds theme. 
4 WWua^wiih. 

* Engrou, fatten. 

• A*/(pnd= forbid. 
* To know =by which to knoi 


ACT III. Scene 7. 


ACT III. Scene 7. 

\ Deferred the visitation of my friends. 
^ But, leaving this, what is your grace's pleasure ? 
^ Bu<^. Even that, I hope, which pleaseth 
/ God above, lOO 

i And all good men of this ungovern'd isle.] 

Glo. I do suspect I have done some oifence 
That seems disgracious^ in the city's eye; 
And that you come to reprehend my ignorance. 
JBiicl'. You have, my lord : would it might 
please your grace, 
On our entreaties, to amend your fault ! 
Olo, Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian 

Budk, Know, then, it is your fault that you 
The supreme seat, the throne majestical,^ 
The scepter'd office of your ancestors, ii9 

^d Your state of fortune and your due of birth, 
^ The lineal glory of your royal house, ] 
To the corruption of a blemish'd stock : 
J [Whilst, in the mildness of your sleepy 
i thoughts— 

i Which here we waken to our country's good— ] 
This noble isle doth want her projxer limbs ; 
Her face defac'd with scars of infamy, 
'.[Her royal stock graft' with ignoble plants, 
/And almost shonlder'd in* the swallowing gulf 
$0f dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion.] 
Which to recure,^ we heartily solicit iso 

Your gracious self to take on you the charge 
And kingly government of this your land ; — 
Not as protector, steward, substitute. 
Or lowly factor for another's gain; 
But as successively,^ from blood to blood. 
Your right of birth, your empery,^ your own. 
;[For this, consorted® with the citizens. 
Your very worshipful and loving friends. 
And by their vehement instigation, 130 

In this just suit come I to move your grace. ] 

Olo. I cannot tell, if to depart in silence. 
Or bitterly to speak in your reproof. 
Best iitteth my degree or your condition: 
^[If not to answer, you might haply think 
•'Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded 

1 DugraeiouM = vmpleMMing. 

s MajeHieal, i.e. belonging to the majetty of a king. 

» Ora/t = grafted. * In = into. 

* To reeure, to heal again, to make sound. 

* Sueoeuitely, in dae saccession. 

f Smpery, empire. • ComorUd, aworiated. 


' To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty, J 

Which fondly" you would here impose on me;; 
If to reprove you for this suit of youi-s, i48i 
So season'd with your fiuthful love to me, > 
Then, on the other side, I check'd *^ my friends.]) 
Therefore, — to speak, and to avoid the first, 
And then, in s}>eaking, not t' incur the last,— 
Definitively thus I answer you. 
Your love deserves my thanks; but my desert 
Unmeritable^^ shuns your high request 
Q First, if all obstacles were cut away, > 

And that my [lath were even to the crown, 
As the rij)e revenue and due of birth ; 
Yet so much is my poverty of spii'it, • 

So mighty and so many my defects, \W 

That I would rather hide me from my great- 
ness — 
Being a bark to brook no mighty sea — 
Than in my greatness covet to be hid, 
And in the vai)our of my glory smotherVl. 
But, God be thank'd, there is no need of me;— ^ 
And much I need to help you,^- were there; 

need ; — ] 
Tlie royal tree hath left us royal fruit, 
Which, mellow'd by the stealing" hours of time. 
Will well l>eoome the seat of majesty, lOO 

[And make, no doubt, us happy by his rei^m. ! 
On him I lay that you would lay on me, — 
The right mid fortune of his hap|)y stars;] • 
Which God defend that I should wring from 
him ! 
BucL My lord, this argues conscience iu 
your gi-ace ; 
But the resjxjcts thereof" are nice ^^ and tri^-ial, 
[All circumstances well considered. 
You say that Edward is your brother's son: 
So say we t<X), but not by Edward's wife; [ 
For first was he contract" to Lady Lucy, — 
Your mother lives a witness to his vow, 1* ' 
And afterward by substitute *" betroth'd 
To Bona, sister to the King of France. 
These both put olf,*^ a poor petitioner, 

» Fondly, unwisely. 

:o / check'd - (yon might think) that I checked, if. 
rebuked or chided. 11 I7nnimtaMe = devoid of merit 

IS And much I need, Ac, i.e. and I am wanting much 
in ability to help yoa. i* Stealing, stealthily adrandng. 

i* The rtitpecU therefff, i.e. the reasons for yonr con<liict 

1* yiee, over-scmpaloas. 1* Contrdct, contracted. 

1' By subetitute, i.e. by proxy. 

1* Put <^, i.e. repadiated. tlirown over. 

iCT III Scene 7. 


ACT III. Bcima 7. 

A. care-craz'd mother to a many sons, 184 

\ beauty- waning and distressed widow, 
Even in Hie afternoon of her best days, 
Made ]>rize and purchase of his wanton eye, 
Seduc'd the pitch and height of his degree 
To base declension^ and loath'd biganiy: 
By her, in his unlawful bed, he got 190 

Fhis Edward, whom our manners calP the 

More bitterly could I expostulate,' 
??ave tliat, for reverence to some alive, 
l give a sparing limit to my tongue. ] 
rhen, go«xi my lord, tnke to your royal self 
rhi« proffer'd benelit of dignity; 
[f not to ble.«ts us and the land withal. 
Vet to draw forth vour noble ancestrv 
From the corruption of abusing times 
['nto a lineal true-derived course. 200 

J/ay. I)o, good my lord ; your citizens en- 
treiit vou. 

Bu^-l\ Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer d 

Oiie. iX make them joyful, gi-ant their law- 
ful, uit I 

Olo. AlaA, why would you heap this care 
on me ? 
[ am uiitit for ctate and majesty: — 
[ do Ijeseech you, take it not amiss; 
[ cannot nor I will not yield to you. 

Bud', If you refuse it, — as, in love and zeal, 
[»th to depose the child, your brother's son; 
An well we know vour tenderness of heart, 210 
3 And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,* 
Which we have noted in you to your kindred. 
And egally indeed to all estates, — ] 
Vet whether you accept our suit or no, 
Vour brother's son shall never reign our king; 
Fiat we will plant some other in the throne. 
To the disgrace and downfall of your house: 
And in this resolution here we leave vou. — 
.'ome, citizens: zounds, I'll entreat no more. 

Glo. O, do not swear, my lord of Buckingham. 
[Ejnt BtLchingham ; the Mayor ^ Alder- 
men^ afid Citizens are following him, 

> DeclefiMiom, degndation. 

' fHutm our wmnmers call, \.e. whom, by courteijr, we call. 
* Es^MttulaUt i.e. remonitrafce with yoa on your 
ItdskKL * Benuine, pity. 


Cute. Cidl him again, sweet prince; accept 
their suit: 221 

If you deny them, all the land will rue it. 
Olo. Will YOU enforce me to a world of cares? 
I Call them again. 

[Catesby stojys the Citizens before they 
have goi\£ off; tlien exit in search of 
Buckingham and the others, 
[To those of the Citizens who have nut gone off\ 

I am not made of stone, 
But penetrable to your kind entreats. 
Albeit my conscience and my soul. 

Re-enter Buckingham and Catesby; the 
Mayor, dr. coming forvrard. 

C'ousin of Buckingham, — and sage, grave 

men, — 
Since v<>u will buckle fortune on mv back. 
To bear her burden, whCr I will or no, 
I must have j>atience to endure the loatl : 230 
But if black scandal or foul-fac'd reproach 
Attend the sequel of your im}.>o8ition. 
Your mere enforcement shall aapiittiuice 

From all the impure blots and stains thereof ; 
For Go<l doth know, and you may partly 

How far I am from the desire of this. 

May. God bless your grace ! we see it, and 

will say it. 
Olo. In saying so, you shall but say the 

Buck. Then I salute you with tliis royal 
Long live King Richard, England's worthy 
king ! 240 

Q Mayor, d-c. Amen. ) 

Buck. To-morrow may it please you to be/ 
crown'd ? / 

Olo. Even when you please, for you will/ 
have it so. ■' 

Btvck. To-morrow, then, we will attend your) 
grace: ( 

And so, most jojrfully, we take our leave. < 
Olo. [To the Bishops'] Come, let us to our^ 
holy work again. — \ 

Farewell, good cousin; — farewell, gentle^ 
friends. ] [Exeunt. \ 


ACT IV. Scene 1. 


ACT IV. SoeiM 1. 


: [Scene I. London. Before the gate of the Tower. 

\ Kilter^ Oil one side, Queen Elizabeth, Duchess 
OF York, and Dorset ; on the other, Anne 
Duchess of Glosteb, leading Lady Mar- 
garet Plantaoenet, Clarence's young 

; Duch. Who meets us here? — my uiece^ 

^Leil in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloster? 
( Now, for my life, she 's wandering to the Tower, 
'(^n pure heart's love, to greet the tender 
j princes.- - 
' Daughter, well met. 

< Aane. God give your graces both 
s A happy and a joyful time of day I 

J Q. Eliz. As nmoh to you, gtxxl sister I 
\ Whither away? 

Anne. No further than the Tower; and, as 
I guess, 

5 Ujx)n the like devotion as yourselves, 
!^To gi-Jitulate the gentle princes there. lo 

S Q. Eliz. Kind sister, thanks: we '11 enter all 

< together: — 

< And, in grxxl time, here the lieutenant comes. 

Enter Brakenbury, from the Tower. 


JMast^jr lieutenant, pray you, by your leave, 
I How doth the prince, and my young son of 

Brak. Right well, dear madam. By your 
^ patience,*-^ 

^I may not suffer you to visit them; 
»The king hath strictly charg'd the contrary'. 

Q. Eliz. The king! who 'a that ] 

Brak. I mean the lortl protector. 

Q. Eliz. Tlie Lonl protect him from that 
kingly title! 20 

\ Hath he set lx)unds between their love and me? 
< I am their mother; who shall bar me from them? 

Duch. I am their father's mother; I will see 

1 ITieec = gnnddanghter. 

s Patience, pronounceU u a triiyllable. 


Anne. Their aunt I am in law, in love their; 

mother: S4,' 

Then bring me to their sights; I'll bear thy; 

blame, > 

And take thy office from thee, on my peril 

BraJ:, No, madam, no, — I may not leave it so: 

I 'm bound by oath, and therefore pardon me. .; 

Enter Stanley. 

Stati. Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour 

hence, » 

And I '11 salute your grace of York as mother, 

And reverend looker-on, of two fair queens.— 

[To Annel Come, madam, you must straight 

to Westminster, 
There to be crowned Richard's royal queen. 

Q. Eliz. Ah, cut my lace asunder. 
That my i)ent heart may have some scope t«j 

Or else 1 swoon with this dead-killing news! ' 
Anne. Despiteful tidings I Ounpleasingnew;:!; 
Dor. Be of gowl cheer:— mother, how fares; 

your grace? 
Q. Eliz. O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee: 
hence I 39 

Death and destruction dog thee at the heehi; 
Thy mother's name is ominous to children. 
If thou wilt outstrip death, go, cross the sea.^ 
And live with Richmond, from' the reach (»f 

Gro, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughter-hoiise, 
Lest thou increajse the number of the dead; 
And make me die the thrall^ of Margaret's 

cui-se, — 
Nor mother, wife, nor England's coiuited queen. 
Stan. Full of wise care is this your counwl . 
madam. — 
[To Dorset"] Take all the swift ail vantage of/ 
the hours; .' 

You shall have letters from me to my son* so* 
In your behalf, to meet you on the way: 
Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay. 
Duch. O ill-dispersing wind* of misery !— * 

» From, out of. « Thrall, victim (literally, "itaTel 

* Son, itepton {i.e. KichmondX 

* lU-dx»perting tctnd. t.^. wind that Katten evil abroad. 



icoined womb, th« bed of ileatli '. M 

atrice haat thou hatch'd to the world, 

muiroided eye in miirderoun. 

. C-ome, madam, come; I in all baste vaa 


: And I in nil unwillingness will go. — 

Id to God tbat the inclusive verge' 

en metal that mxiBt round my brow w 

•d-hot ateel, U> sear me U> the brain! 

Anointed let me be with d«adl}' venom; mi 
And die, ere men can say, "God save the/ 

Q. Etii. Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy^ 

gloiy; j 

To feed my humour, wisli thyself no harm.* j 

Anne. Nol why) — When he that is my bus.; 

band now ] 

Came to me, as I followed Henty'a corse; '. 


. 1 


J %^ 






-T- ' ^ 

icarce the blood was well wasb'd from 
< handM 

itnu'd from my other angel hunbaiul, 
tut dead saint which then I weeping 

n, I aiy, [ look'd on Kichard's face, 
'M my wish,— "Be thou," quoth I, 

-dRle. lilcnlljr. bonndiij. 
Id mgliummir, teUh Oiyilf no harm. i.t. do unl. 
«■•* nw, wiih harm to thyieir. 

For making me, an young, so old a widow! 
And, when thou wedd'et, let sorrow haunt thy 
bed; U 

And be thy wife^if any be so mnd — 
More miserable by the life of thee 
Than tbon hast made me by my deal' lonl'x; 

IjO, ere I can repeat this curse again. 

Even in ao short a space, my woman's 

Oroaaly grew cajttive to hia honey words, sa 

ACT rV. Seena 1. 


ACT IV. Scene 1 

And prov'd the subject of mine own soul's 



Which ever since hath kept mine eyes from rest; 
For never yet one hour^ in his bed 
Have I eujoy'd the golden dew of sleep, 
But have been waked by his timorous dreams. 
Besides, he hates me for my father War^'ick; 
And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me. 
Q. Eliz. Poor heart, adieu! I pity thy com- 
A nne. No more than from my soul I mourn 

for yours. 
Q, Eliz. Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of 
glory! 90 

Anne, Adieu, poor soul, that tjik'st thy leave 

of it! 
Duch. [To Dor»et\ Go thou to Richmond, and 
good fortune guide thee! — 
[To A nne\ Go thou to Richard, and good angels 

tend thee! — 
[To Qu^en Elizabeth] Go thou to sanctuary, 

goo<l 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 "UTeck'd with a week of 
Q. Elu, 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! loi 
Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow 
For tender princes, use my babies well! 
So foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell. 


Scene II. T/ie same. A room of state in the 


^Sennet. Enter Richard in state, crmcned; 
Buckingham, Catesby, Ratcliff, Lovel, 
a Page, and others. 

K. Rich. Stand all apart. — Cousin of Buck- 
ingham, — 

Buck. My gracious sovereign? 

K. Rich Give me thy hand. [Ascends the 
throne."] Thus high, by thy advice 
And thy assistance, is Eling Richard seated: — 

> Hour, i»ioiioimced m a diMjllAble. * Tten, totrow. 


But shall we wear these honours for a day? 
Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them? 
Buci: Still live they, and for ever let them 

K. Rich Ah, Buckingham, now do I play 
the touch,^ 
To try if thou be current gold indeed: — 
Young Edwanl lives; — think now what I 
would speak. lo 

Biicl'. Say on, my loving lord. 
K. Rich Why, Buckingham, I say, I would 

be king. 
Bud: Why, so you are, my thrice- renowned 

K. Rich. Ha! am I king? 'tis so: — but Ed- 
ward lives. 
Bud: True, noble prince. 
K. Rich O bitter consequence, 

Tliat Edward still should live! "True, noble 

prince!" — 
Cousm, thou wert not wont to l>e so dull: — 
Shall I be plain? — I wish the bastiuxis dead; 
And I would have it suddenly perform'd. 19 
What say'st thou now? speak suddenly, be brief. 
Buck. Your grace may do your )>leasure. 
K. Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kind- 
ness freezes: 
Say, have I tliy consent that they shall die? 
Bud'. Give me some breath, some httle 
pause, my lord. 
Before I positively speak herein : 
I will resolve* your grace immediately. [Exit. 
Cate. [Aside to another] The king is angir; 

see, he gnaws his lip. 
K. Ric/i. I will converse with iron-witted 
fools [Descends from his throne. 

And unrespective* boys: none are for me 
That look into me with considerate eyes: — 30 
High -reaching Buckingham grows circum- 
spect — 
Page. My lord? 

K. Rich Know'st thou not any whom cor- 
rupting gold 
Would tempt unto a close exploit^ of death? 
Page, I know a discontented gentleman, 

* Ths touch, Le. Uie touchstoiM. 

* Reiolve, Mtiify, answer. 

< Unretpeeti»$, carelen, unthinking. 

* Close «sploU, secret deed. 

ACT IV. SoeiM 2. 


ACT IV. SoeM 2. 

Whoee humble means match not his haughty 

Gold were as good as twenty orators, 
And will, no doubt, tempt him to any thing. 
A". Rich. What is his name? 
Page. His name, my lord, is TyrreL 40 

A". Hich. I ]>artly know the man: go call 
him hither. [Exit Page. 

Tlie tleep-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. 

Enter Stanley. 

How now! what news with you/ 

,Sfnn. My loiti, I hear 

The Mai-quess Dorset 's fled beyond the seas 
To Richmond, in those parts where he abides. 
A' liuJi. Come hither, Catesby. [t^tanle*/ 

retires.] — Rumour it abro<ad 49 

Hiat Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick; 
[ d I will take ordeH for lier keeping close. 
Inquire me out some mean-bom gentleman, 
Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' 

daughter; — 
Tile htyy is foc4ish, and I fear not him. — ] 
Liiok, how thou dream'st! — I say again, give out 
Tliat Anne my queen is sick, and like to die: 
Alxnit it; for it stands me much upon,' 
To stop all hopes whose growth may damage 

me. [Kcit Cateah*/. 

I must be mariied to my brother's daughter, 
Or else my kingtlom stands on brittle glass: — 
Murder her brothers, and then marry her I ei 
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. 

Re-enter Page, icUh Tyrrel. 

Is thv name Tvrrel? 

Ti/r. James Tyrrel, and your most obedient 

K. Rich. Art thou indeed? 
T^'fr. Prove me, my gracious lortl. 

K. RicL Dar'st thou resolve to kill a friend 
of mine? 

Tifr. Ay, my lord; 
But I had rather kill two enemies. ro 

A". Rich. Why, then thou hast it: two deep 
Foes to my rest and my sweet sleep's disturbers, 
Are they that I would have thee deal u])on: — 
Tyrrel, I mean those bastaixis in the Tower. 
Tifr. Let me have open means to come to 
And soon I '11 rid von from the fear of them. 
K. Kick. Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, 
come hitlier, Tyrrel: 
Gro, by this token: — lise, and lend thine ear: 

[ ^Yhitp€rs. 
There is no more but so: — say it is done, 79 
And I will love thee, and prefei** thee for it 
Tifr. I will dispatch it stndght [Exit. 

Re-enter Bl'ckinoham. 

Buck: Mv 101x1,1 haveconsider'd inmvnund 
The hite demand that vt>u did sound me in. 
K. lii'h. Well, let that rest. Doi'set is fleil 

to Richmond. 
Back. I hear the news, my lord. 
K. Ku'h. Stanley, he** is your wife's son: — 

well, look to it 
Buck. My lonl, I claim the gift, mv due by 
For which your honour and your faitli is 

pawn'd ;" 
Th' earhlom of Herefoixi, and the moveables, 
Which you have promised I shall |x>sses8. oo 
K. Rich. Stanlev, l(X)k to voiir wife: if she 
Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it. 
Buck. What siiys your liighness to my just 

K. Rich. I do remember me, — Henry the 


Did prophesy that Richmond should be king. 
When Richmond was a little i)eevish boy. 
A king! — perhaps — 
Buck. My lord, — 

K. Rii'h. How chiuice the prophet could not 
at that time 
Have told me, I being by, that I should kill 
him? 100 

: Witty, clever, cunninir. 

> Tnirt order, arrange, take measares. 

s It *tand» hm mudi upon,' it is of much concern to me. 

* Tear-falling, tear-ahedding. 

« Prefer, advance. • He, i.e. Richmond, 

y PawiCdt pledgod. 


ACT IV. Scene 2. 


ACT IV. 8o0iie 8. 

Bade. My lord, your ])rumi»e for the earl- 
dom, — 101 
K. Rich, Richmond! — When last I was at 
The mayor in courtesy show'd me the castle, 
And eall'd it Rougemont: at which name I 

Because a bard of Ireland told me once, 
I should not live long after I saw Richmond. 
liuH', My lord, — 
A". Ricfi, Ay, what 's o'clock? 
Brick. I am thus bold to put your grace in 
mind 109 

Of what you promis'd me. 

A". Rich. Well, but what 's o'clock ? 

Buck. Upon the stroke of ten. 
K. Ric/i. Well, let it strike. 

Buck. Why let it strike? 
K. Rich. Because that, like a Jack, thou 
keep'st the stroke 
Betwixt thy begging and my meditatioiu 
I am not in the giving vein to-day. 

BiU'k. Why, then resolve^ me whether you 

will or no. 
K. Rich. Thou troublest me; I am not in 
the vein. [E.veuut nil except Buckingham. 
Buck. Is it even so? rewanis he my true 
With such contempt? made I him king for this? 
O, let me think on Hiistings, and be gone i*JO 
To Brecknock, while my fe«irful head ia on! 


Scene III. Another ro&m in tlte pttlacc. 

Enter Tyrrel. 

T^r. The tyrannous and bliXKly act is 

done, — 
Tlie most arch* deed of piteous massacre 
That ever yet this land was guilty of. 
Dighton and Forrest, whom I did suborn 
To do this ruthless piece of butchery, 
Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs. 
Melted^ with tenderness and mild com])jission. 
Wept like two children in their death's sad 


"O, thus," quoth Dighton, **lay the gentle 

"Thus, thus," quoth Forrest, "girdling one 
another lo 

Within their alabaster innocent arms: 
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk. 
Which in their summer beauty kiss'd each 

A book of prayers* on their pillow lay; 
"Which once," quoth Forrest, "almoat chang'd 

my mind; 
But, O, the devil" — there the villain stopped; 
When Dighton thus told on, — "We smothered 
The most replenished^ sweet work of nature, 
That from the prime^ creation e'er she f ram'd." 
Hence both are gone with conscience and re- 
morse; M 
They could not speak; and so I left them both, 
To bear this tidings to the bloody king: — 
And here he comes. 

Enter Kino Hicuakd. 

All health, my sovereign lord I 
A'. Rich. Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in tiij 

Ti/r. If to have done the thing yoa ^ve ill 
Beget your happiness, be happy then, 
For it is done. 
K. Rich. But didst thou see them 6md\ 
Tyr. I did, my loixi. 

K. Rich. And buried, gentle TyrM 

Tyr. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried 
But where, to say the truth, I do not know. 
K. Rich. Come to me, Tyrrel, soon* at after- 
supper, 31 
When thou shalt tell the process^ of theii* death. 
Meantime, but think how I may do thee good. 
And be inheritor of thv desire. 
Farewell till then. 

Tyr. I humbly take my leave. [Exit. 

K. Rich. The son of Clarence have I pent 
up close; 
His daughter meanly have I match'd in mar- 

1 Re9olw, answer, utiify. 
s j4reA, chief, out-and-out 
• MelUdf ie. orercome. 


* Prayen, pronounced aa a diHyllable 
& RepUntMhed, complete, consummate. 

« Jhrime, primitive. ^ Soon, presently. 

* Proeett, narratiTe, history. 


rhe «oiis of Edward ateep iu Abraham's bueotu, 
Lod Aiine my wife hath bid this worid good 
iiight. 30 

S'ow, for I know the Breton Bicbmoud aims 
Kt young Eliiabeth, my brother's daughter, 
4nd, by that knot,' looks proudljon the crown, 
To her go I, a jolly thririiig wooer. 

£iaer Catesbt. 

C'ate. My lord,^ M 

A'. Rich. Good news or bad, that thou com'st 

in so bluntly 1 
Cate. Bad news, my lord : Ely is fled to 

Richmond ; 

^nd Biickinghaiii, back'd with tlie h&rdy 

H iu the field, and still his power increaeeth. 
A'. Jlieh. Ely with Richmond troubles nie 

Delay leads impotent luid snail- jiac'd beggary: 
Then fiery expedition be my wing, 
Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king! 
Go, muster men: my counsel is my shield; 
We must be brief, when traitoi's brave the 
field. [AVeunf. 

ScE!»B IV. Thetamf. Bffore tht paiace. 

Q filler QuEES Maroahet. j, 

Q.iiar. So,nowpro«iierity begins to mellow, > 

And drop into the rotten mouth of death. 'i 

ACT IV. Scene 4. 


ACT IV. Sorae 4. 

\ Here in these confines slily have I lurk'd, 3 
To watch the waning of mine enemies. 
A dire induction am I witness to, 
And will to France; hoping the consequence 
<;Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical. — 
i Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret : who 
V comes here? [/^ire*. ] 

Enter Queen Elizabeth and t/ie Duchess 

OF York. 

Q. Eliz. Ah, my poor princes ! ah, my ten- 
der babes ! 
'QMy unblown flowers,^ new - appearing* 
sweets I] 10 

If yet your gentle souls fly in the air, 
And 1^ not fix'd in doom ]:>eri>etual. 
Hover about me with your airy wings, 
And hear your mother^s lamentation ! 
; [|§. Mar. [Aside] Hover about her; say that 
i right for right 

)Hath dimm'd your infant mom to aged night] 
Duch. So many miseries have craz'd my 
That my woe-wearied tongue is still !uid 

mute. — 
Edwani Plantagenet, why art thou dead ? 
; C9- -'/'"•• [-4«wfe] Plantagenet doth quit^ 
{ Plantagenet, 20 

^Edward for Edward pays a dying debt] 
Q, Eliz. Wilt thou, O God, fly from such 
gentle lambe. 
And throw them in the entrails of the wolf? 
When didst thou sleep, when such a deed was 

I [§. yfar. [Aside] When holy Harry died, 
' and my sweet son. ] 

Dut^ti. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal 
living ghost, 
' d Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by 
\ life U8urp'<l,] 

Brief abstract juid recorti of tedious days, 
llest thy unrest on EugLuid's lawful eai-th, 

[Sitting doicii. 

Unlawfully made dnink with innocent blootl I 

Q. Eliz. Ah, that thou wouldst as soon 

afl^urd a grave 81 

As thou canst vield a melancholv seat ! 

1 Flowen, pronounced as a dissyllable. 

2 New-appearing, whose appearance ia but recent, 
s Quit, requite, pay quittance for. 


Then would I hide my bones, not rest them 
here. » 

[Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but I?] 

[Sitting down by her. 
[|§. Mar. [Coming forward] If ancient sor- 
row be most reverend. 
Give mine the benefit of seniory,* 
And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.' : 
If sorrow can admit society, 

[Sitting doitn trith them. 
Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine:—; 
I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him; 40 i 
I had a Harry, till a Richard kill'd him: 
Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd 

Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard kiird him. = 
Ihich. I had a Richard too, and thou didst 
kill him; 
I had a Rutland too, thou hol]>'st to kill him. 
Q. Mar. Thou hadst a Clarence too, ami 
Richard kill'd him. 
From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crejit 
A hell-hound that doth hunt us all to death: 
Tliat dog, that had his teeth before his eyes, ' 
To worr}' lambs, and lap their gentle blood; if' 
That foul defacer of God's handiwork; 
That excellent grand tyrant of the earth. 
That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls, " 
Thy womb let loose, to chase us to our graves.— 
O upright, just, and true-disfwsing God, 
How do I thank thee, that this carnal' cur 
Preys on the issue of his mother's body. 
And makes her pew-fellow with otliers' moiui!*i 
Ihtch. O Harry's wife, triumph not in my! 
woes I 
God witness with me, I have wept for thine. 
Q. Mar. Bear with me; I am hungry for/ 
i-evenge, ^i' 

And now I ck>y me with beholding it 
Thy Edward he ia dead, that kill'd my £•!• 

wanl ; 
Thy other Etlward dead, to quit my Edwani: 
Young York he is but b<x)t,® because both they 
Match not the high ])ei*fection of my l«ies: 

4 Seniory, seniority. 

» Frown on the vpper hand, \.e. have the plac* '■'i 
honour. ^ Carnal, bloodthirsty, cannibal 

f Makes her peic-fellow with others' moan, gires her tf 
equal share of the sorrow which others suffer. 

8 f/*- w bvt boot, i.e. he is merely thrown la to make 


« ^^ . 

ACT IT. SeeiM 4. 


ACT IV. Scene 4. 


Thy Ckreuce he is dead that stabb'd my Ed- 
'. And the beholders of this tragic play, 
!Th' adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, 

Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves, to 

Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer;^ 
r Only reserv'd their factor,* to buy souls, 
/ And send them thither: — but at hand, at hand, 
^Ensues his piteous and unp;tied end: 

Earth gapes, hell bums, fiends roar, saints 
( pray, 

J To have hiui suddenly convey'd from hence.— 
( Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, 
/That I may live to say, " The dog is dead" ! 
( Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophesy the time 

< would come 

f That I should wish for thee to help me curse 
I That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd 
\ toad! 81 

< Q. Mar. 1 csdl'd thee then vain flourish of 

mv fortune: 

I caird thee then poorshadow, painted queen; 
;Tlje presentation-^ of Init what 1 was; 
'/The flattering index* of a direful pageant; 

One heaVd a-high,° to be hurl'd down below; 

A mother onlv^ uiockM witli two fair babes; 

A dream of what thou wei-t; a breath, a 

A sign of dignity, a garish flag 

To be the aim of evt-ry dangerous shot; oo 

A queen in jest, only to fill the scene. 

AVhci-e is thy husband now? whei*e be thy 
brothers i 

Where be thy two sons? wherein dost thou joy? 

"Who sues to thee, and cries, " Goil save the 
queen " i 

Where Ije the bending peera that flatter'd thee? 
, Where be the thronging troops that follow'd 
: thee? 

, Derline all this, and see what now thou art: 
.For' liappy wife, a most distressed widow; 

F«.»r joyful mother, one that wails the name; 
. For queen, a veiy® caitiff cro'wn'd with care; lOO 

> JnUUigeneer, go-between, Instrument. 

^ Their factor, i.e. agent (of the infernal power«X 

* Presentation, show, semblance. 

* index, prolocni®' * A-high, on high. • Onbj, merely 
7 F:r - iMtead of, in this and the six following lines. 

» IVrv, mere. 

For one being su'd to, one that humbly sues; 
For one that scorned at me, now scom'd of me; 
For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one; 
i!'or one commanding all, obey'd of none. 
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/ 
wei-t, ^ 

To torture thee the moi*e, being what thou art. ^ 
Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not 
Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow? no 
Now thy proud neck bears half my burdened* 

From which even here I slip my wearied head, 
And leave the burden of it all on thee. — 

[Hues. ) 
Farewell, York's wife; — and queen of sad mis- 
chance: — 
These English woes shall make me smile in 
[i^ueen Elizabeth and tfie Ducheu of York rise. 
Q. Eliz. O thou well-skiird in curses, stay^ 
awhile, i 

And teach me how to curse mine enemies ! \ 
C/ Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast 
the day; 
Compare de;id happiness with living woe; < 
Think that thy babes were fairer than they 



And he that slew them fouler than he is: 
Bettering 1° thy loss makes the bad causer 

Revolving ^^ this will teach thee how to curse. 
Q. Eliz. My words are dull; O, quicken 

them with thine ! 
Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, 
and pierce like mine. [Exit. ^ 

JJuch. Why should calamity be full of words? 
Q. Eliz. fWindyattomeysto their client woes. 
Airy succeeders^^ of intestate joys,] 
Poor breathing orators of miseries! 
Let them have scope : though wliat they do 
impart lio 

Help nothing else,^ yet will they ease the heart 
Duch. If so, then be not tongue-tied: go 
with mo, 

9 Burden' d, burdensome. 
10 Bettering, ve. magnifying, exaggerating 
" lieoolving, considering. i* Sitceeedeni, i.e. heirs. 
" Help nothing elte, are of no other nsc. 

65 68 

ACT IV. SceiMs 4. 


ACT IV. SoeiM 4. 

And in the breath of bitter words let 's smother 
My damned son, that thy two sweet sons 
smother'd.^ [Drum within. 

I hear his drum:— be copious in exclaims.^ 

£nt€r Kino Richard ivith tronps, mardiiiig, 

K, Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedi- 
Ducli. O, she that might have intercepted 
By strangling thee in her accursed womb, 
From all the shiughters, wretch, that thou 

hast done! 

'( (^. Eliz. fHid'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 

'And the dire death of my jx>or sons and 
< brothers?] 

Tell me, thou villain slave, where are my 
Duch. Thou t^md, thou toad, where is thy 
brother Clarence? 
\ t And little Ned Phuitagcnet, his son ? 
/ ^. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, 
Vaughan, Cirey? 
Duch. Where is kind Hastings?] 
K. Rich. A flourish, trunii>etsl strike ; 
alarum, druius ! 
Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women 
Rail on the Lonl's anointed: strike, I say! ira 

[Flouri^i. Alarum. 
Either be [mtieut, and entreat me fair,* 
Or with the cLimorous report of war 
Thus will I drown vour exclamatiuna 
Duch. Art thou my son ? 
A'. Ru'h. Ay, I thank Goil, my fatlier, and 

Duch. Tlien ])atiently hear my im])atiencc. 
A'. Rif^h. Madam, I luive a touch ^ of your 
Tliat cannot brook the accent of repnx^f. 

Duch. O, let me speak ! 
K. Rich. Do, then; but I '11 not hea^. 

Duch. I will be mild and gentle in my 
words. iGi 

AT. Rif^h. And brief, good mother; for I am 

in haste. 
Duch. Art thou so hasty? I have stayed fur 
God knows, in torment and in agony. 
K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort 

Du<:h. No, by the holy roo<l, thou kuowut 
it well, 
Tliou cam'st on eiirth to make the earth my 

A grievous burden was thy birth to me; 
Tetchy^ and wayward was thy infancy; 
Thy school-days frightful,® de8i>erate, wild, juid 
furious; iTO 

Thy prime of manhood daring, l)old, and ven- 
Tliy age confinn'd, i)roud, subtle, sly, ami 

More mild, but yet more hanuful-kind in 

hatred : 
What comfortable hour® canst thou name, ever grac'd me in thy compiiny ? 

A'. Rich. Faith, none, but Humphrey hour, 
that call'd your grace 
To breakfast once forth of ^^ my cnmiKiny. 
If I Ihj so disgracious" in your eye, 1T« 

Let me miLrchon,and not offend you, madam.— 
Strike up the drum. 

Durh. I prithee, hejir nie fl]H;ak. 

K. Rich. You speak too bitterly. 
Duch. Hear me a wonl; 

For I shall never speak to thee again. 
K. Rich. So.»a 

Duch. Either thou wilt die, by God's just 
oi'di nance. 
Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror; 
Or I with grief and extreme age shall {terisli, 
And never more behold thy fjice again. 
Tlierefore take with thee my most heavy turse; 
Which, in the day of battle* tire^"* thee more 

1 Tliat thy two noeet itmu fmothfr'd, who sniotlivrcd thy 
two tweet sofiu. • ExclaiiM, cries. 

5 Ow'd. owned, poBseised. 

* Entreat me fair, u«o ine well, i.e. let your words be 
pleasant. & A touch, i.e. somewhat. 

* Condition, disiiositlon. 


T Tetchy, fretful. « Friffhtful, ic inspiring fear 

'^ Hniir. pronounced as a diRsyllable. 

>o Forth of, awny frmn. >> Dingraciotm, unpleaainp. 

IS So, well, lie it so. 

13 Whieit . . . tire, i.e. and may that (my cMirse) Uk. 

ACT IV. 8uene 4. 


ACT IV. Scene 4. 

Than all the c6mplete armour tliat thou 
wear'st ! loo 

My prayers* on the adverse party ^ fight; 
And there the little souls of Edward's chil- 
Whisper the spirits of thine enemies, 
And promise them success and victory. 
Blotjdy thou art, bloo<ly will be thy end; 
Shame serves' thy life, and doth thy death 
attend. [Kvit. 

Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much 
lens .si)irit to curse 
Abides in me; I say amen to her. [O'oint/. 
K, Rich, Stay, madam; I must speak a word 

with vou. 
Q. Eliz. I have no more sons c>f the royal 
blood 200 

For thee to murder: f for* my daughters, 

They shall !)e praying nuns, not weeping 

And theref«>re level ^ not to hit their lives.] 
K. Rich, You have a daughter cfdl'd £liza- 
Virtuous and fair, royal and gi-acious. 

Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? O, let 
her live, 
[[Ami I'll corrupt her m;niners, stain her 

Slander myself as false to Edward's bed; 
Throw over her the veil of infamv: 
S*> she may live unscarrd of bleeding slaugh- 
ter, 210 
I will confess she was not Edward's daughter. 
K. Rich. Wrong not her birth, she is of 

royal blood. 
Q, Eliz. To save her life, I'll sjiy she is 

not so. 
K. Rirh. Her life is safest only in her birth. 
Q. Eliz. And only in that safety died her 

K. Rich. Lo, at their births go<xl stars were 

Q. Eliz. No, to their lives ill friends were 

» .Vv jiratftn, ie. " May my prayeni." Prayen is pro- 
li'iuiiceti M a iliuyllable. ^ Party, part. side. 

* .S>r«v#. atteiiilii, waits upon. 

* Fur, Hs for. * Lfvrl, aim, scheme. 

* OppotiU. iinpropitioiis. ' Contrary^ adverse. 

K. Rich. All unavoided* is the doom of J 

destiny. > 

Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes' 


destiny: ' 

My babes wei-e destin'd to a fairer death, 220 ' 
If grace hat! 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 

Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life, 
f Whose hand soever lanc'd theirtender hearts, ;' 
Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction: ^ 

No doubt the muitlerous knife was dull and ''. 

blunt ;• 

Till it wjis whetted on thy stone-hard heart, '! 
To revel in the entrails of my lambs. 
But that still® use of grief makes wild gi-ief ■ 

timie, 230" 

My tongue should to thy ears not name my ' 

boys J 

Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine) 

And 1, in such a desperate Iviy of death, ; 

Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft. 
Rush all to ]iieces on thy rot^ky lM>soin.] i 

K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enter- 
And dangerous^^ of bloody wai-s, 
As I intend more good to you and youi-s 
Than ever you and yours by me wei^e harnrd! 
^. Eliz. Q What gfK)d is cover 'd with the face 

of heaven, 240- 

To be discover'd, that can do me good ? 

A". Rich. Th' advancement of your children, 

gentle lady. 
Q. Eliz. Up til some sciifibld, there to lose^ 

their heads? ,j 

A". Ri'h. No, to the dignity and height of;. 

The high im}>erial type" of this earth's glory. 
Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrows with rejx)rt 

of it;] / 

Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour, 
Canst thou demise*'^ to any child of mine? 

' Una voided, imnvoidable, not to be avoided. 
* Still, continual, constant 
K' DangfTouK sucrftat, lin/nnions or uncertain result 

11 Tftpe, hadge. diRtiii<!niHhin^ nwirlc. 

12 Jtemiif., grant (litcrully. "beqnmth"). 


ACT IV. ^)oene 4. 


ACT IV. Scene 4. 

A'. Rich. Even all I liave; ay, and niVHelf 
and all, 
Will I withal endow a child of thine; '.'oO 

So* in the Lethe ^ of thy an^rry soul 
Thou drown the Had reuiembrance of thoae 


Which thou suppoHest I have done to thee. 
Q. Eliz. He brief, lest that the procesH-' of 
thv kindness 
Laflt longer telling than thy kindne&s' date.** 
K. Rich. Then know, that from my soul I 

love thy daughter. 
Q. Eliz, [ My daugliter's mother thinks it 

with her soul. 
K. Rii'h. 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 
brothel's; 2r»o 

And, from my heart's love, 1 do thank thee 
for it. 
K. Rich. Be not so hasty to confound my 
I meiin, that with my soul I love thy daughter, 
And do intend to make her Queen of Kug- 
Q. Eliz. Well, then, who dost thou mean 

shall l>e her king? 
K. Rich. Even he that makes her queen : 

who else should be'^ 
Q. Eliz. What, thou? 
K. Rirh. Even I: what think vou of 

it, maihim ( 
y. Eliz. How canst thou woo her/ 
K. Ru:h. That I would learn of you, 

As one lx»ing best acijuainted with her hu- 
Q. Kliz. And wilt thou leani of me? 
K. Rich. Madam, with all mv liciirt. 

Q. Eliz. Send to lu^r, by tlie man that slew 
her bn)thers, L>n 

A jwir of bleeding hearts; thereon engravv.* 
Edwanl and York;" then haply will she 
Wffp : 

« L\ 

> So, i.e. provided tliat. 

2 lA^lhe, a river in the Infemtl regionn. whuKt* watiTs 
were supposed to produce oblivion. 

* Procettt. st4»ry < Dat^ -term, period of duration. 

* From tJnt 9f)ul, i r out!>ide of tliy soul, not with tliy 


[[ Tlierefore present to her — as sometime Mar-,: 

garet 274. 

Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood— 
A handkei'chief; which, say to her, did drain;: 
The purple sap from her sweet brothers' bodies, '[ 
And bid her wij>e her weeping eyes withal.^ , 
If this inducement move her not to love, 
Send her a letter of thy noble deeds; *J*o 

Tell her thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence, 
Her uncle Kivei's; ay, and, for her sake, 
Mad'st quick conveyance with*^ her good aunt 

A'. Rit'h. You UKK-k me, madiini; this is not 

the way 
To win your daughter. 

Q. Eliz. There 's no other way; 

Unless thou couldst put on some other shajie, 
And not be Richard that hath done all this. 
Q A'. Rich. Say that I did all this for love of htrl .. 
Q. Eliz. Nay, then indeed she c:uinot cho(«e) 

but love thee, ) 

Having '^ bought h>ve with such a blootly si^iil.] 
A'. Rich. Look, what is done cannot W n<iw 


Men shall deal unadvisedly* sometimes, 
Which ^ after-hours give leisure to repent 
[ If I did take the kingdom from your sous. - 
To make amends, 1 '11 give it to your daughter. 
If 1 have kill'd the issue of your womb, | 

To quicken ^" your increase, I will Iwget 
Mine issue, of your blood, u})on your daughter:; 
A grandam's name is little less in love [ 

Than is the doting title of a mother; mO] 

They are as children but one step below, ; 
Even of your mettle, of your very blootl; 
Of all one pain,"— sjive for a night of groans ; 
Endiu'd of- her, for whom you bid*^ likea.>r- 

row. ] 
Your children were vexation to y«iur youth: 
Hut mine shall be a comfort to your age. 
The lo.<*s you have is but a son being king,'* 

« J/rtcf W quick conveyance vith, i.e. quickly conveyi^i. 

or frot rid of. 
' Ilariiiff. thou having, i e. tliou wlio hast 
• Shall deal M«ar/c*V(//i/. rannot h«lp dolnjt rash deoK 
'•' Which, i.e. sucli deed« w 
T> Quicken, i.e. brlnp to lifi- 

o 0/all ofie pain, ie. givinp the same tronhle. or p«in 
i-.- Of. hv. " Bvi. bore, endured 

'♦ Hut a Kuu hrinri kinj, if. only that your iu»n did n-u 

live tti ivign n* kinjr. 

'. Soene 4. 


ACT IV. Scene 4. 

>y that loss your daughter is made queen. 
lot make you what amends I would, 
fore <iccept such kindness as I can. :;io 
let your son, that with a fearful soul 

discontented steps in foreign soil, 
'air alliance quickly sliall call home 
jh pnmiotions and gi-eat dignity: 
:ing, that calls your beauteous daught^^r 


iarly shall call thy Doi-set " brother;" 
I shall you In? mother to a king, 
ill the ruins of disti*e8sful times 
r'd with double riches of content. 

I we have many goodly days to see: 3i»o 
iqui<l drops of tears that you have 8he<l 
come again, transfonn'd to orient i)eiirl, 
Dtaging their loan* with intert^t 
1- times double gain of hap])ine8.s. 
len, my mother, to thy daugliter go; 

bold her Iwishful veara with vour exi»e- 

re her ean* to heju* a wooer's t;de; 
1 her tender heart th' asjuriug Hame 
Iden sovereignty; acquaint the princess 
the sweet silent hours of marriage joys:] 
ehen this ann of mine hath chastiseil :i3i 
etty rebel, dull-brain'd Biickingliam, 
1* with triumphant garLinds will I come, 
ead thy daughter to a compieror's bed; 
lom I will retail 3 my conquest won, 
Jie .«*lu'ill Ik* sole victorei-w, Cfesai^'H CiesJir. 
E7tf. QWhat were I l>e8t to sjiy ( her fa- 
bet's brother 

(1 be her lord i or shall I siiy, her uncle ? 
i that slew her brothel's and her uncles Q* 
r what title shall I woo for thee, .wo 

fiod, the law, my honour, and her love, 
lake seem pleasing to her tender years ^ 
aicA. Infer* fair England's jieace ))y this 

Sfi:. Which she shall purchase with still- 
LHtiug war. 

Kick, Tell her, the king, that may coni- 
land, entreats. 

^7ii. That at her hands which the kiuL^s 
ling forbids. 

'.antaging their loan, augmenting tho value of the 
Inan. ' Bounds wreathed, crowneil. 

lii, recount. 
tr, bring forward (aa an argument), adduce. 

K, Rich. Say, she shall be a high and 

mighty queen. 
Q. Eliz, To wail the title, as her mother doth. 
K. RicL Say, I will love her everlastingly, 
f/ Eliz. But how long shall that title 

"ever" hist? .s.'io 

[ A'^ llich. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's > 


y. Kliz. But how long fairly shall her sweet ; 

life last? * y 

K. Rich. As long as heaven and nature J 

lengthen it. -J 

Q. Eliz. As long as hell and Hichard like of it , 
K. Rich. Siiy, 1, her sovereign, am her sub- ' 

ject love. 
<^. Eliz. But she, your subject, loathes such ', 

sovereignty. ', 

K. Rich. Be elorpient in my ln^half to her. \ 
y. Eliz. An honest tale sijeeils best being J 

])lainly told. ] 

K. RijJt. Then, plainly to her tell my loving > 

tfile. ' 

Q. Eliz. Plain and not honest is too liai-sh a! 

style. 3t50 'i 

K. Rich. Your reiisoiiK are t(Mj shallow and ,^ 

t»M> quick."' ) 

V- Eliz. U no, my I'easons are too dee}) and; 

dead; — / 

TcK) deeii and dciul, ixx>r infant>i, in their' 


A'. Rih. Hai']) not on that sti-iiig, madam;) 
that is past. ^. 

y. Eli:. Harp on it still shidl 1 till heai-t-; 
strings break.] ; 

A'. Riiih. Now, by my George, my gartei", 
and my crown, — 

Q. Eliz. Prof.'ui'd, dishonour'd, and the third 


K. Rich. I swear — 

<^. Eliz. By nothing; for this is no oath: 
fThy (leorge, ])rofaird, hath lost his holy^. 

Tliy garter, blemisliM, pawn'd his knightly' 

virtue; :;7o;> 

Tliy crown, usurji'djdisgrac'd his kingly glory. |]^ 
If something thou wouldst swear to Ik? l)eliev'd. 
Swear, then, by something that thou not 


' Quick, hasty. (But Klizabetli takes it to mean "alive.") 



ACT IV. aaiH ). 

A'. Jtidi. Then by myself,— 

^. Eliz. Thyself ia self-uisus'd. 

A'. RicL Now, l^ the world,— 

$. Eiu. T ia full of thy foul wrongs. 

A'. Kick. My fathert dentli,- 

<^. Eliz. Thy life hatli that dishonourM. 

A'. Hicli. Why, then, by Gwl,— 

Q. Eliz. God's wn»iK iu inoHt <>f all. 

'[If tliouliHilst fear'd t«brenlciiii outli by Uiui, 
The iiuity tlie king thy brother made .'<;« 

Hnil not been broken, nur my brother tibkin: 
If thou liadst fear'd to brenk an uatk by Him, 

;Tli' imjierial metal, circling.' now thy lieail, 
Hiul gnie'd the tendtr teni|JeM of my cliiid; 
Anil both the prinees had lieen breathing here, 
Which now, too t(.-ndei' Imlfellous fur diMt, 
Tliy broken faith liath made a pn-y forwoniiH.] 
What caiiHt thou swear by now'; 

A'. Hi,-I.. The time to come. 

i^. t2iz. That thou host wronged in the time 

[ For I myself have many tears to waith 
Hereafter time,' for time past wronged by 

thee. SM 

Tlie children live, whoae fathers thou htiA 

Ungovem'd' youth, to wail it iu their age; 
The parents live, whose children thou hust 

Old wither'd plants, to wail it with their afgf. 
Swear not by time to come; for that thou bast 
Misus'd ere us'il, by time misus'd o'erpaaL] 

A'. Hkh. QAhI iiiten<l to prosper and repent, 
So thrive I in my dangerous attempt 
Uf hostile arms ! nijitelf myself confound '. 
Heaven and foi-tune bar me' ba|>py honiB^] 
Day, yield me not thy light; nor, uight, tlir 

Be opjioait*,* all |)hinets of good luck. 

To my pi'ocee^ling 1 — if, witli pure heart's love, 

Iiinnaculate devotion, holy thoughts, 

I tender uot-^ thy beauteous princely daughter' 

In her conMstH my hapiiiiiesti and thine: 

Witliout tier, follows to myself niid thee. 

Herself, the knil, and many a Cbriiitian suul. 

I>eath, desoLitiou, ruin, luid decay: 

Qlt eannot \te avoided lint by tliis; 4io 

It will not be avoided but by tliis.^ 

Tlierefore, dear mother, — I must call yousu,— 

Be tlie attorney of my love to her: 

Plead what I will be, not what I liave beeu; 

C Not my deserts, but what I will deserve: 

Urge the necessity and state of times. 

And l>e not peevish found in great designs. ; 

U- Eliz, Shall I be tempted of tbe devil 

K. Ridi. Ay, if the devil tempt tliee to do 

Q. Elii. Shall I forget myself to be mjTwIt! 

A'. Kieh. Ay, if your self's rememlnwuv 
wnmg yourself. *3 

<i. Elii. But thou didst kill my children. 

A'. Jliu/i. But in your daughter's woinb I 
bury them: 

I HtrtafUt Umi, tlnia to come. 

' ITngottni'd, uiireitr^ned, unguldrd. 
> Bar lai. wtthbold from nw. 

st ngunl, Jo Dot bokl it 

Bne 4. 


ACT IV. Hoeue 4. 

that nest of spicery, they shall breed 
themselves, to your recomforture.^ 
Shall I go win my daughter to thy 

. And be a happy mother by the deed. 

I go. — Write to me very shortly, 
shall understand from me her mind. 
1.^ Bear her my true love's kiss; and 
xewell. 430 

[Kusing her. Exit Queen Elizabeth. 
; fool, and shallow-changing woman ! 

^ Ratcliff; Catesby following. 

! what new^s? 
O0t mighty sovereign, on the western 

puissant navy; to the shore 

any doubtful hollow-hearted friends, 

and unresolv'd to beat them back: 

v^ht that Richmond is their admiral ; 

5 tliey hull, exi)ecting but the aid 

igham to welcome them ashore. 

. Some light-ffx)t friend post to the 

\ of Norfolk : — 440 

hyself, — or CatcHby; where is lie? 

[ere, my gofnl lord. 

, V\y to the duke. -- [7\> /^//c/?/] 

thou to Salisbury: 

u com'st thither,— [7*0 O^f^] Dull, 

ndful villain, 

r'st thou here, and go'st not to the 

in*t, mighty hege, tell me your high- 

n your grace I shall deliver to him. 
. O, tnie, grxxl Catesby: — bid him" 
Mrt strength and power that he can 


me suddenly^ at Salisbury. 4.V) 

go. \^Exit. 

hat, may it please you, shall I do at 

. Why, what wouldst thou do there 
J I go? 
mr highness told me I shc»uld ]x>st 

leemn/orture, freth comfort. 
kuldenly» at once, with all speed. 

Enter Stanley. 

K. Rich, My mind is chang'd. — Stanley, 
wliat news with you ? 4,'.:i 

Stan. None good, my liege, to please you 
with the hearing; 
Nor none so bad, but well may be reported. 
A^ Rich. [[ Uoyday, a riddle ! neither good / 
nor bad ! ) 

What need'st thou run so many miles about, / 
When thou mayst tell thy tale the nearest' 
way 1 ] 400 ' 

Once more, what news? 

Stan. Richmond is on the sean. 

K. Rich. There let him sink, and be the 

seas on him, 

White-liver'd runagate! what doth he there ? 

Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by 

K. Rich. Well, as you guess? 
Stan. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, 
and Ely, 
He makes for England, here, to claim the 
K. Rich. Is the chair empty? is the sword 
unsway'd i 
Is the king defid? the empire unpossessM? 
f What heir of York is there alive but we i 470 
And who is England's king but great York's 

Then, tell me, what makes he u[)on the' 
Stan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot 

K. Rich. Unless for that he comes to be 
your hege, 
You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman ' 

comea ] 
Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear. 
Stan. No, my gfM)d lord; therefore mistrust 

me not. 
K. /(ich. Wliei-e is thy power,' then, to l>eat 
him back? 
Where be thy tenants and thy followers? 
Are they not now upon the western shore, 480 
Sjife-c<Snducting the rebels from their sliips? 
Stan. No, my gooil lord, my friends are in 
the north. 

s Pover, pronounced aa a dlsiyllable. 


ACT IV. Soene 4. 


ACT IV. Soena i. 

K. Rinrh. Cold friends to me : what do they 
in the north, ^z 

When they should serve their sovereign in the 
Staii. They have not been commanded, 
mighty king: 
Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave, 
I '11 nuister up my friends, and meet your grace 
Where and what time your majesty shall 
K. Rich, Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to 
join with Richmond: 
I will not trust you, sir. 

Stan. Most mighty sovereign. 

You have no cause to hold my friendship 

doubtful: 401 

I never was nor never will be false. 

A". Itu'fu Go, then, and muster men. But 

leave behind 

Your son, George Staidey : look your heart be 

Or else liiH head's iissurance is but frail. 
Stan. So deal with him as I prove true to 
you. [Exit. 

Enter a Messenger. 

Mess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devon- 
[[As I by friends am well adv6rtised,] 
Sir Eklward Courtney, and the haughty i>relate 
Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother, 500 

With many more confederates, are in arms. 

Enter a second Messenger. 

Sec. Mess. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfonls \ 

are in arms; 
And every hoiu*^ more comjx^titors^ 
Flock to the rebels, and their [X)wer grows 


Enter a third Messenger. 

Third Mess. My lord, the army of great 

BuckinghtUn — 
A'. Rich. Out on ye, owls ! nothing but songs 

of death? [Strikes him. 

Tlicre, tike thou that, till thou bring better 


Third MesB. The news I have to tell your 
Is, that by sudden floods and fall of waters, 
Buckingham's army is dispers'd and scattered; 
And he himself wander'd away alone, 3ii 

No man knows whither. 

A'. Rich. Oh, I cry thee mercy: 

There is my purse to cure that blow of thine. 
Hath any well-advised friend proclaimed 
Reward to him that brings the traitor in ? 

Thi^ Meu. Such proclamation hath been 
made, my lord. 



^ Hour, pronounced ai a diHgyllublc. 
> CompetUon, confederatoA, araociatcs. 


[[ Enter a fourth Messenger. 

Fourth Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord 
Marquess Dorset, ( 

Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in- 
But this good comfort bring I to your high- ] 
ness, — ) 

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 Bucking- ^ 
ham ( 

Upon his jKuly:** he, mistrusting them, 
Hois'd sail, and made his course again forj 
Bretagne. ] \ 

K. Rich. Maixih on, march on, since we are 
up in arms; 
If not to tight with foreign enemies, 
Yet to beat down these rebels I'.ere at home* 

Re-enter Catesby. 

C-ate. My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is 
taken, — mo 

That is the best news: that the Earl <.»f Rich- 
Is with a mighty |>ower landed at MiLford, 
Is colder tidings, yet they must be told. 
K. Rich. Away tuwaixls Salisbury! whilt^ 
we reason* here, 
A royal battle might 1)e won and lost: — 
Some one take order'* Buckingham be brought 
To Salisbury; the rest march on with me. 

[ A lourish. ExeuHi. 

s Upon hit party, on IiIb side. 

* Reason, convene. 

fi Taki order, give directions that, see to it that 

ACT IV. 8O01M 5. 


ACT V. Scene 2. 

[[ScKSE V. A room in Lord Stanley's /io?<j»/'. 

EtUer Stanley and Sir Christopher 

StfifU Sir Clii-i«toi>lier, tell Richmond this 
from me: — 
That^ iu the sty of this most bloody boai*, 
My srm George Stiuiley is frank'd up in hold:^ 
If I iwolt, off goes young George's head; 
The fear of that withholds my present aid. 
So, get thee gone; commend me to thy lord: 
Say that the queen hath heartily consented 
He should esjiouse £lizal)eth her daughter. 
But, tell Die, where is princely Richmond now? 

(/*/*w. At f*enil»n)ke, or at Ila'rfonl-west,'- 
in Wales. 10 

SUxii, Wliat men of name resort to hun i 
( 'hris. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned sol- 
dier; 13 
Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley; 
Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James 

And Rice ap Thomas, witli a valiant crew; 
And many more of noble fame and worth: 
And towards Ix>ndon they do bend their 

If by the way they l)e not fought withal. 
,Stati, Well, hie thee to thy lord; I kiss his 
hand : 
Tliese letters will resolve him of ^ my mind. •.'O 

[(jiving letter s. 
F'arewell. [Exeunt.'^ 


t Scene I. Solishui'tf. Anopenplacr. 

EiiU'f the A'Acnjf, ami ihiard^ witk Bucking- 
ham, It^l to twecHtion. 

H'lrL'. Will not Kini^ Richard let me speak 

with him \ 
Sln-r. N«»,niy g«»<Ml lord; therefore l>e ]«itient.* 
Il'trL: lljL<iugs, and Kdwaiils childn-n, 
1 Rivers, Grey, 

;Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward, 
! Vaugluin,^ and all tluit have miscarried**' 
JBy underhand mrruptetl foul injustice,- - 
J If that your mocnly discontented souls 
; I )o through the clouds behold this present hour, 
/ Even ff»r revenge mock my destruction I - 
/This i>* All-Souls' day, fellow, is it not I 10 
\ Sher. It is. 

\ Ba*:l: Why, then All-Souls' day is my lxj4ly's 
* dofimsdav. 

This is the day which, in King E«l ward's time, 
\ I u-ish'd might fall on me, when I was f<mnd 
; False to his children and his wife's allies; 
(Tin's is the day wherein I wish'd to fall 

1 FranJ^d up in hold, ttyed op in prison. 
« na'r/onlwett. Htverford-west. 
^ RfM(4ce him of, acquaint him with. 

* Patiant^ here a trisyllable. 

* Vnuflhan, pmnoiinced here as a dii^Bylluble. 

* Hare tnUcarried, have come to a Tloleut en<l. 

By the false faith of him whom most 1 trusted; . 
This, this All-Souls' day tt) my fearful soul ; 
Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs:^ ■' 

That high All-seer which T dallied with 20^ 
Hath turn'd my feigned prayer** on my head, j 
And given in earnest what T in^gg'd in jest. J 
Thus doth lie forre the sworIs of wickeil men J 
To turn their own points on their miistei-s'^ 

Thus Mju'garet's curse falls heavy on my| 

neck, — ) 

" When he," C|u<)th she, "shall sj)lit thy heart^ 

with sorrow. 
Remember Margaret was a proi)hetess." — 
Come, 8U"s, convey me to the lil<x;k of sliame; 
Wrong hath but wi-ong, and blame the due of] 

blame. ] f Exeunt, 

Q Scene II. Plain near TamwortL 

E liter y with drum and roloun^^ Richmond, Ox- 
ford, Sir Jamf^ Blvxt, Sir Walter Her-! 
BERT, and others, with Eorri'j*, marchiinj. 

Ilirhm. Fellows in anns, and my lov-! 
ing friends. 
Bruised underneath the yoke of tyranny. 

7 i.e. "Is the flxetl time to which the punishment of 
my wronf;-floini^B is reRpited. " 
• Prayar, pronounced a* a ili»sylla1»le. 




ACT V. SJoeiie 3 

TluiH fill- into the bowelx of the Iniid x 

: Hnve we nittrcb'd on witbout impiiilimeiit: 
' And liere receive we from our father Stoiile}' 
' Linea of fair comfort cuiii encourage rueut. 
iThe wretched,' bloody, aiid usurping boar, 
.That epinVtl yout summer fields iind fruitful 

l-Swilla your warm blood like wn£h, and make« 
< liiH trough 

1(1 your emboweli'd' boeonw, — thin f«ul 

Lien now even in the centre of thia iale. 
Near to the town of Leicester, as we leiini: 
FVom Tamworth tliither is but one day's 

In Uod's name, cheerly ou, courageous friends, 
To reap the hai-vest of perpetual [teauf 
By thiii one bloody trial of fharp wni'. 






Oxf. Kvery man's conscience is a tlioumind | 

Ti) fiylit itgniust this giiilty homicide. 

llrrli. 1 doubt not but his frieixix will tuni 


lihiiit. lie liatli no frieiidii but what iiiv 

friends for fear, w 

Which ill his dearest' nee<l wiU fly from him. 

Ilii-hm. AU for our vautJige. "nieu, hi <.J<«i'- 

name, mareli: 

True hoiie is swift, and tIii-« with swallow'^ 

'■■ KinjtH it makes gods, and meaner creatiireH 
' kinf,ii. \_Ej:puiit.'^ 

: •lluiiil- 


Sl-esk III. Buneorth _M'I. 

C A'n(ffl- Kiso Richard and Force/, th<- IXke 

III' NuRPOLK, Earl of Si-rrbv, Ratci.iff. 

laid other*. 

K. Hkh. Here^h our tent, even here iii 
H.>swi.i1h field.— 
My Lonl of SuiTey, why look you hu nuI \ 

.Stir. My heart is ten times lighter than luy 

A', /iui. My Ixird of Norfolk,— 

A'lir. Here, moMt frracictw liejR. 

A'. /UrA. Norfolk, wo must liave knocks; ]»'■ 

or. We must liuth give aiid take, n 


ACT V. Scvne 3. 


ACT V. Scene 3. 

K. Rich. Up with my tent I here will I lie 

[Soldiers begin to set up the King's tent. 
But where to-morrow? Well, all's one for 

Who hath descried the number of the traitors? 
Xor. Six or seven thousand is their utmost 
power. 10 

K. Rich. Why, our battalia^ trebles that 
. Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, 
WTiich they upon the adverse faction want- 
Up with tlie tent ! — Come, noble gentlemen, 
Let us survey the vantage of the ground; — 
Call for some men of sound direction : — 
Let 8 lack no discipline, make no delay; 
^ For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day. [ Exen at. ] 

EiUer, on the other side of the fields Richmond, 
Sir William Brandon, SirW^alter Hkr- 
BERT, Oxford, and others. Some of the Sol- 
diers pitch Richmond's tent. 

RirhiH. The weary sun hath made a golden set. 
And, by the bright track of his fiery car, 20 
< lives ttjkeii of a goodly day to-monx^w. — 
Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my stan- 

<lard. — 
(live me .some ink and paper in my tent: 
I '11 draw the form and model of our battle, 
Limit each leader to his several charge. 
And jKirt in just proportion our small power.— 
Q My Lord of Oxford, — you, Sir William Bi-an- 

dcm, — 
And yuu. Sir Walter Herbert, — stay with 

me. — 
Tlie Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment:— 
0<xk\ Captain Blunt, bear my good-night tr^ 

him, M 

And by the second hour in the morning 

Ile^ire 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? 

liluiU. [ Unless I have mista'en his colours 

much, — 
Which well I am assur'd I have not done, — ] 
W'hi regiment lies half a mile at least 
S>uth fr€>m the mighty power of the king. 
Ilirhm. If without peril it be possible. 

> Battalia, noan tiogular canned force. 

Sweet Blunt, make some good means' to speak 
with him, 40 

And give him from me this most needful note. 
Blunt. Upon my life, my lord, I '11 under- 
take it; 
And so, God give you quiet rest to-night I 
Richm. Gootl night, good Captain Blunt 
[Exit Blunt\ Come, gentlemen. 
Let us consult u}K)1i to-morrow's business: 
In to mv tent; the air is raw and cold. 

[ They withdraw into the tent. 

Re-enter^ to his fenty Kino Richard, Norfolk, 
Ratcliff, Catksbt, atid others. 

K. Rich. What is 't o'clock ? 
Cate. It's sup j)er- time, my lord; 

It 's nine oV-lock. 

A'. Rich. I will not sup to-night. — 

Give me some ink and paper. — 
What, is my beaver^ easier than it was? w 
And all my armour laid into mv tent? 

Catp. It is, my liege; and all things are in 

K. Rich. Good Noifolk, hie thee to thy 
charge ; 
Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels. 
Nor. I go, my lord. 
K. Rich. Stir with the hu*k to-morrow, gentle 

Xor. I warrant you, my lonl, [Ejnt. 

K. Rich. Catesl)v, — 
Cate. My lord? 

K. Rich. Send out a j>ui*suivant-at-arms 
To Stanley's regiment; bid him l>riug his power 
Before simrising, lest his ^m George fall 61 
Into the blind cave of eternal night. 

[Kcit Catcsbif. 
[To various attendants] Fill me a bowl of wine. 

- Give me a watch.* — 
Saddle white Surrey for the field U)-moiTow. — 
Look that my stiives^ be sound, and not too 

heavy. — 

Rat. Mv lord ( ; 

K. Rich. Siiw'st thou the mekncholy Lonl J 

Northumberland? > 

' Make gome good means, i.e. contrive sorae opportunity. 
^Beaver, properly the vizor of the helmet; here=the 
htlmet Itself * Watch, i.e. watch-light. 

* Stares, the Hhiifts of lance*. 


ACT V. Scene 3. 


ACT V. HeeiM 3. 

\ Rat. Thomas the Earl of Surrey, and himself, 
Much about cock-shut time,^ from troop t«> 

Went through the army, cheering up the sol- 
diers. 70 
A'. Bich. I'm satisfied.] — Give me a bowl 
of wine: 
I have not that alacrity of spirit, 
Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have. 

[ Wine brought. 
So, set it down. — Is ink and |>aper ready? 
Hat. It is, my lonl. 

A'. Rich. Bid my guard watch; [to the at- 
tendants] leave me. — Ratcliff, 
About the mid of night come to my tent 
And help to arm me. — Leave me, I say. 

[King Richard retires into his tent^ and 
sleeps. Ejceunt Ratcliff and others. 

Richmond's tent opens, and discovers him and 
his Officers, d-c. Enter Stanley. 

aSIuiu F«>rtune and victory sit on thy helm! 
Richm. All comfort tliat the dark night can 
affonl j<o 

Be to thy person, nol>le father-in-law I 
Tell me, lu)w fares our loving mother ? 

Stan. I, by attorney, ))le8S thee from thy 
Who pniys continually for Richmond's gooil: 
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, — 
Preimre thy battle eiirly in the morning, 
J^And put thy fortune U) th' ai*bitrenient so 
iOf bloody strokes and niortiil-ataring** war.] 
T, as I may,— -that which I would 1 cannot, — 
With best advantjige will deceive the time, 
And aid thee in this doubtful shock of aims: 
'Q But on thy side I may not l)e too forwanl, 
/Lest, Ixjing 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 
\^ An<l ample interchange of sweet discoui'se, 
; Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell 
upon: 100 

I Cock-shut time, i.e. twilight 

* Flakt/, broken into flakea by the light. 

■t Mortal-ttaring, i.e, having a deadly stare. 

* Thf leUure, i.e. " tlie time we have to gparr." 


God give us leisure for these rites of love ! ] 
Once more, adieu: be valiant, and speed well ! 
Richnu Grood lords, conduct him to his regi- 
ment: 103 
I '11 strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a 

Lest leaden slumber peise^ me down to-mor- 
When I should mount with wings of victory: 
Once more, good night, kind loixls and gentle- 
men. [Exeunt Officers, d-c with tStanley. 
O Thou, whose captain I account myself, 
Look on my forces with a gracious eye; 
Put in their hands Thy bruising irons of 
wrath, 110 

Tliat they may crush down with a heavy fall 
Th' usurping helmets of our adversaries I 
Make us Tliy ministers of chastisement, 
That we may praise Tliee in the victorj' I 
To Thee I do commend my watchful soul. 
Ere I let fall the windows vi mine eyes: 
Sleeping and waking, O defend me still I 

Q The (ihost of Prince Edward, son to Kixo 
Henry the Sixth, rises heticeen the tico tents. 

(ihost. [To King Richard] Let me sit heav}* 

on thy soul to-morrow ! 
Tliink, how thou stabb'dst me in my piinie of ^ 

At Tewksbury: despair, therefore, and diel— 
[To Ric/imond^ Be cheerful, Richmond; f«)r 

the wronged souls 121 ; 

Of butcher'd })rinces light in thy beiialf: ' 

King Henry's issue, Richmond, comforts thee.; 

The (ihost i't King Henry the Sixth rises. ■ 

(ihost. [To King Richard] W'hen 1 wjwi 

mortal, my anointed \xn\y j 

Rv thee was jmnched full of deadly holes: • 
Think on the Tower and me: despair, and- 

die, — 
Harry the Sixth bids thee despair, and diel— 
[7% Richmond] Viiluous an<l hr)ly, be tlioU' 

conqueror I 
Harry, that pi-ophesiwl thou shouldst be king,' 
Thee in thy nleep doth comfort: live aiHl| 

flourish ! ] 


* Peise, weigh. 

ACT V. 8oeiM S. 


ACT V. Scene 3. 

T/ie Gho$t of Clarence rises. 

Ghost. [7b King Itichard\ Let me 8it heavy 
on thy soul to-morrow ! 13 1 

I, that was washed to death with fulsome^ wine, 
Poor Ciai-ence, by thy guile betray'd to death ! 
To-morrow in the battle think on me, 
And fall* thy edgeleas sword : despair, and die I 
fl[[7b Richmotid] Thou offspring of tlie house 

^ of Lancaster*, 


[The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee; 
/Good angels guard Uiy battle 1^ live, and 
flourish I 

The fihi/sts of Rivers, Grey, and VAUOHAy, 


Ohfyft of lliv. [ To King Richard] Let me sit 

heavy on thy soul to-morrow, 

''- Rivei-s, that died at Pomfret! despair, and die I 

a host of (Jretf. [To King Richard] Think 

[ upon (.irey, and let thy soul desjiair I i4i 

'^ Ghost of VaugL [To King Richard] Think 

upon Vaughn 1 1, and, with guilty fear, 
Let fall thy lance: <lesi>air, and die I 

All three. [To Rvlnnond] Awake, and think 
our wrongs in Richard's bcjsoin 
Will conquer him I— awake, an<l win the day I] 

The Ghost of Hastings n*^. 

Ghost, [To King Richard] Bloody and guilty, 
guiltily awake, 
And in a bloody l>attle end thy days I 
Think on Lord Hastings: despair, and die! — 
: [ [ TV) Richmond] Quiet untroubled soul, awake, 
\ awake I 

'Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England s 
i sake ! ^ i5o 

The Ghosts of the tiro you tig Pritices rise. 

Ghosts. [To King Richard] Dream on thy 

cousins smother'd in the Tower: 

Let us be laid within thy bosom, Richard, 

Ant I weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death ! 

Tliy nephews' souls bid thee despair, and die I — 

:Q7V> Ri^Jtmond] Sleep, Richmond, sleep in 

[>eiice, and wake in joy; 
< G'XkI angels guard thee from the boar's annoy I ^ 

I Live, and beget a happy race of kings ! ^ 

Edward's unhappy sons do bid thee flourish. ^^ 

The Ghost o/ Queen Anne rises. 

Ghost. [To King Richard] Richard, thy wife, 

that wretched Anne thy wife, 
That never slept a quiet hour with thee, 160 
Now fills thy sleep with perturbations: 
To-morrow in the battle think on me. 
And fall thy edgeless sword: deai>air,and die I — 
[[7*0 Richmond] Thou quiet soul, sleep thoU) 

a quiet sleep; ) 

Dream of success and happy victory I ' 

Thy adversary's wife doth pniy for thee. ] 

The Ghost of BiCKiNOHAM rises. 

Ghost. [To King Richard] The first wiis T 
that help'd thee to the crown; 
Tlie last was I that felt thy tyranny: 
O, in the l>attle think on Buckingham, 
And die in terror of thy guiltiness! 170 

Dream on, dream on, of bloody dee<ls and 

death : 
Fainting, despair ; despairing, yield thy 

breath! — 
Q[7\) Richmond] I died for hojx;^ ere T could 
lend thee aid : J 

But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismay'd: J 
G<xl and good angels fight on Richmond's side;; 
And Richard fall^ in height of all his pride. ]^ 
I [The Ghosts vanish. King Rirhard 

starts out of his dream. 
I K. Rich. Give me another horse, — bind up 
my wounds, — 
Have mercy, Jesu! — Soft! I did but dream. — 
! O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me I — 
I The lights bum blue. — It is now dead mid- 
' night 180 

Cold fearful drojxs st^md on my trembling flesh. 
What? do I fear myself? — there's none else by: 
Richard loves Richanl; that is, I am I. 
Is there a murderer here? No; — Yes, I am: 
[[Then fly. Wliat, from myself ? GreatreiLsonJ 

Lest I revenge myself upon myself. 
Alack, I love myself. Wherefore? for any J 

I FuUomf, lickly-Bwect 
* Battle =tarce%. 

s FaU, i.e let fall 
^ Annoy, injary. 

< For hope, i.e. as for as all hope waa concerned; or. 
elliptically, =for want of hope, 
fi Richard faUt i.e. may Richard fall. 

^ I 

ACT V. Satis 3. 

'Tluit I niyiwlf have done unto niyxelf f 
Jo uo! alaa, I rotbev hat« mjself 
'For hateful deeds comiuittvd by luywlf ! iM 
<l am a villain: yet I lie, I am not 
(Fool, of thyself speak well: — fool, do not 
\ flatter. ] 

Myoouscience hatha thousand several tongues. 
And every tongue brings in a. Bevenil tale, 
And every tnle condemns me for a villain. 


Peijuiy, jwrjury, in the high'at degn??; 
.Murder, stem murder, in the clir'st degree; 
Q All several xins, all iis'U in each degree,] 
Throng to the bar, crying all "Guilty! guilty;' 
I shall despair. There is no creature lort-< 
nie; sm 

And if 1 die, no soul shall )>ity nie: 
[Nay, wherefore should they, — since that [; 

Finil in myself no [lity to myself?^ 
Methought the suuls of all that I had murder'il 
,(hme to my tent; and every one did tlirent 



//../. My l«nl. 
A'. JlirL Wh., '» Ihei-e I 
; ll,'f. My lord, tia I. [Tlie early vllliige- 

.Hatli twice done sahit.itiiin to tlie nionii] 

A". Jlu-h. O Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fear- 
ful dnjani 1— ;i:: 
What thinkuHl thou, — will our frietidH pnive 

all t) 


. Ni> doubt, my lord. 
A'. /li.ii. Hat-iliff, I fear, I frar! 

li'i/. Nay, good my lonl, 1k' not afraid of 

A', itkh. }!y the apostle I'aul, sliadDWs ti>- 


ACT V. SoeiM 3. 


ACT V. Scene 3. 

Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard 
Than can the substance of ten thousand 

Armed in ])roof and led by shallow Richmond. 
It is not yet near day. Come, go with me; 220 
Under our tents I '11 play the eaves-droi)i)er, 
To hear if any mean to shrink from me. 

[Exeutit Kiiiy Richard and Raidiff, 

Re-eiUet' Oxford, xtUh other LordSy dx. to 
Richmond's tent. 

{^ Lords. Goo<l morrow, Richmond ! 
Rirkin. [wai-iiuj]. Cry mercy,* lords and 
watchful gentlemen, 
That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here. ] 
Lords. How have you slept, my lord ? 
Richra. The sweetest sleep, and fairest- 
boding dreams 
That ever enter'd in a drowsy head. 
Have I since your departure had, my lonla. 
!>[Methought their souls, whose bodies Richard 
' murder'd, 230 

Came to my tent, and cried on* victory: 
I promise you, my heart is very jocund 
' In the remembrance of so fair a dream. ^ 
How far into the morning is it, lords? 
Lords, Cpon the stroke of four. 
Richm, Why, then 't is time to arm and give 

[He advances and addresses the troops. 
More than I hdve said, loving countrymen, 
Tlie leisure and enforcement of the time^ 
Forbids to dwell upon: yet remember this, — 
(kn\ 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; 242 

Riuiianl except,^ those whom we fight against 
H;ul nither have us win than him they follow: 
For what is he they follow? tnily, gentlemen, 
A blrMxly tynmt and a homicide; 
< fnerais'd in bhM>d,and one in blood establish'd; 
^One that nuule nieans^ to come by what he 

> Cry Merey-l beg y(>ur panlim. 
' Cried on, i.e. cried out. 

^ The UUure. &c., i.e. "the time, necessarily so small, 
St nir disposal." 
< llithard ezcepf = Richard being excepted. 
^ yi'*de means, contrived, or plotted the means. 

And slaughtei-'d tlujse tliat were the means to 
help him; 249 

A base foul stone, made precious by the foil® 
Of Engbind's chair, where he is falsely set; 
One that hath ever l>een God's enemy: 
Then, if you fight against Grod's enemy, 
Goil will, in justice, ward you as his soldiers; ^ 
If you do sweat to put a tyrant down. 
You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain; 
If you do fight ag!iinst your country's foes. 
Your country's fat shidl pay your jxains the hire; 
If you do fight in safeguard of your wives, 209 
Your wives shall welcome home thecouciuerors; 
If you do free your cliildren from the sword. 
Your children's children quit it in your age. 
Tlien, in the name of God and all these rights. 
Advance your standaixls, draw your willing 

For me, the ransom of my lK>ld attempt 
Shall be this cold cor|)8e on the earth's cold 

But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt 
The least of you shall share his ]>art therei>f. 
Sound drums and trumpets, lx)l(lly, cheerfully; 
God and Siiint George! Richmond and victory! 


Re-enter Kino Richard, Ratcliff, Attendants^ 

atul Forces. 

K. Rich. [ Wliat «iid Northimiberland as 

touching Richmond 'if 2T1 

Rat. Tliat he was never trained up in anns. 

K. Ri4ih. He said the truth: and what said 

Sun-ey, then? 
Rat. He smil'd, and said, " The l)etter for ; 

our purpose." 
K. Rich. He was in the right; and so, indeed, ' 
it is. [Clock strikes. \ 

Tell the clock there.^ ] — Give me a calendar. — \ 
Who saw the sun to-day? 

Rat. Not I, my lord. 

A". Rii^h. Tlien he disdains to shine; for, by 
the lK)ok, 
He should have brav\P the ciist an hour ago: 
A black day will it l)e to somelxKly. — 2>o 

[ Ritcliff,— 
Rat. Mv lord? 

* Foil, i e. jeweller's foil, used to get off a precious Dtoiie. 
" Tell the cliick there, i.e. count what hour it striken. 
*" Drav'd, made brace, i.e. ^ay. splendid. 


ACT V. Boone 8. 


ACT V. Soeae 3. 

< K. RicJi. The sun will not be seen to-day; 
<The sky doth frown and lour upon our anny. 
1 1 would these dewy tears were from the ground.] 

Not shine to-day I Why, what is that to me 
More than to Kichmond i for the selfsame liea- 

Tliat frowns on me l(M>ks sadly upon him. 

Enter Norfolk. 

^'or. Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts* in 

the Held. 
K. Rich. C?ome, bustle, bustle; — caparison^ 
my horse; — 289 

Call up Lord Stanley, bid liim bring his power: 
I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain, 
And thus my battle' shall be ordered: — 
My foreward shall be drsiwn out all in length, 
Ck)n8i8ting equ«ally of hoi-se and foot; 
Our archers shall he placed in the midst: 
John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey, 
Shall have the leading of the foot and horse. . 
They thus directed, we will foUow 
In the main battle; whose puissance on either 
side 209 

Sliall be well winged with our chiefest horse. 
This, and Saint George to Ik )(>t ! — What think'st 
thou, Norfolk? 
Nor. A good direction, warlike sovereign. — 
This found I on my tent this in«)rning. 

[Giving a scroti. 
K. Rich, [Reads] ••Jockey of Norfolk, be not too 
For Dickon thy uiustor is bouqfht and sold." 

A tiling devised by the enemy. — 

[Throicing the scroll airat/. 
Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge: 
[AMe^ to himself] Let not our biibbling dreams 

affright our souls; 
Omscience is but a word that cowards use, 
Devis'd at first to keej) the strong in awe: 3io 
Our strong arms Ik? our conscience, swoixls our 

<Q[7'o Norfolk ami others] March on, join 
5 bravely, lot us to't jjell-mell; 

< If not to heaven, then hand in luuid to hell. — ] 
[7V> his Soldiers] What sluill I siiy more than 

I have inferi-'d i 

1 VaunU, makes a Inild dinpluy. 

'•t Caparison, i.e. put on his trappings nud annour. 

* Battle, forces. 


Remember whom you are to coj»e withal; — 
A sort^ of vagabonds, rascals, runaways, 
A scum of Bretons, and base lackey peasants, 
Whom their o*er-cloyed country vomits forth 
To desperate ventures and assur'd destructioiL 
Q You sleeping safe, they bring to you unrest; ' 
You having lands, and bless'd with beauteous ; 

wives, 821 = 

They would distrain^ the one, distain*' the 

And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow, j 
Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost; 
A milk-sop, one that never in his life 
Felt so nmch cold as over shoes in snow?] 
Let 's whip these stragglera o'er the seas again; 
Lash hence those overweening rags of France, 
These famish'd beggars, wear}- of their lives; 
Who, but fol* dreaming on this fonil exploit, 
For want of means, ]Hior rats, had hanged 

themselves: 3::i 

If we he conquer'd, let men conquer us, 
And not these bastiird Bretons; [whom our 

Have in their own land beaten, bobVd,^ and 

And, on record, left them the heirs of sliame. 
Shall these enjoy our lands? lie with our wives? 
liavish our daughters? — ] [/}ntm afar of.] 

Ilark I I heiu* their drum. — 
Fight, gentlemen of England I light, bold yetv- 



Dniw, archers, draw your amjws to the head! 
[Spur your proud horses haixl, and ride in; 
blood; stt 

Amaze the welkin with your broken staves I ']i 

Enter a Messenger. 

What siiys l^onl Stanley? will he bring Li* 
])ower ? 
Mess. My lord, he doth deny to come. 
A'. Rirh. Off with his son's head I 
Nor. My lonl, the enemy is jiast tlie marBli! 
After the battle let George Stanley die. 
A', liich. A thousand hearts are great within 
my l>oa()m: 
Advance onr stjindards, set ujmn our U>eA\ 

4 Sort, company. 

^ Distrain, seize. <^ Diitain, pollute. 

• Uobb'd, snincked, strurk sharply. 
** Stavfn, tho shafts of pikes or lances. 

ACT V. Soeoe S. 


ACT V. Scene 5. 

Our ancient word of courage, fair St George, 
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragouH ! 
Upon them! Victory BiUi on our helms. 86i 



Scene TV. A nother jxirt of the field. 

Alarums: excursions. Enter Norfolk ami 
Forces; to him Catesby. 

Catf*. Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue, 
rescue ! 
The king enacts more wonders than a man, 
Danng an opiK».site* to every danger: 
His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights. 
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of deiith. 
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost I 

Alarums. Enter Kinq Richard. 

K. Rwh. A horse I a horse I my kingdom for 

a horse ! 
Cate. Withdraw, my lonl; I'll help you to 

a horse. 
A'. Rich. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, 
And I will stand the hazanl of the die: lo 
I think there Ih^ six Kichmonds in the field; 
Five have I slain U>-day instead of him.— 
A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse ! 


Alurnms. Re-enter Kino Richard driving 
Richmond before him, attadcing him with 
) fury; they fight; Kino Richard /«//«. [[/^f- 
': treat atui ffouris/i. Exit Richmond. T 


f Scene V. A nother part of the fidd. 

Eater Richmond, with Stanley bearing the 
crofcn, and divers other Lords^ and Forces. 

Richm, God and your arms be prais'd, vic- 
torious friends ! 
;The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead, 
r Stan. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou 

ac(}uit thee. 
'Iy>, here, this long- usurped royalty' 
Ynmi the dead temples of this bloody wretch 
•Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal: 
Wear it, enjoy it, and make nmch of it 

' A H oppotUtt t.r an ftdrenary. 
* This Umg-usurped rvytUtp, i«. the crown whkh he 

Richm. (Ireat Gtxl of heaven, say Amen t0( 

all:- ' ^ 

But, tell me, is the young George Stanley liv- 
Stan. He is, my lord, and safe in Ijeicester) 

town ; 10 ^ 

Whither, if 't please you, we may now with- ' 

draw us. 
Richm. What men of name are slain on 

either side? 
Stan. John Duke of Noi*folk, Walter Lords 

Ferrers, \ 

Sir Robert Brakenbur}', and Sir William' 

Richm. Inter their bo<lie8 as becomes their 

Proclaim a pardon to the 8*>ldiei*s 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 3 uj)on this fair conjunction, 20 
That long hath frown'd uixni their enmity I — 
What traitor hears me, and says not Amen? 
England hatli long Wen mad and scari-'d her- i 

Tlie brother blindly shed the brothei-'s bhKxl, 
The father ra.shly slaughter 'd his own son, 
The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire: 
All this divided York and I-«ancaster, 
Di\nded in their dire division, 
O, now let Richmond and Elizabeth, 
The true succeeders of each royal house, 
By Gqid^s fair ordinance conjoin together I 
And let their heirs - 
Enrich the time to 

j)eace, ^ 

With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous daysl j 
Abate* the edge of traitors, gracious Lonl, ( 
That would reduce** these bloody days again, ( 
And make |KX)r England weep in streams of ^ 

blood ! 


(jrod, if thy will be so — i 
come with smooth-fac'd ' 

Ixjt them not live to taste this land's increase ' 
That would with treason wound this fair land s^ 
peace! 3'J^ 

Now civil wounds are stopp'd, ])eace lives agen : ^ 
That she may long live here, God say Amen I I 

[Eveunt. ] • 

vr»f III 

* SmiU heaven, i.e. may heaven amile. 
*AbaU, i.e blunt & Reduce, bring back. 

' R1 fi9 



nUAMATIH l'BKH(.».N.«. 

I4;0, Ui April, 1(71, Ilfll 

tluUtlcnl klnj[«nilK 

DramatU I'vraone. 


DraniAtis Fenoiia?. 

4th yiaixh in the same year. Edward died on 0th April, 
1483, having reigned twenty-two yean. After the atro- 
cious munler of Henry VI. 's son, Prince Kdward, of which 
we have already given an account in III. Henry VI. 
note 2, Edward distinguished himself by the ^acherous 
execution of a number of the Lancastrians, who had 
taken sanctuary in the church at Tewksbury after the 
battle. The Lancastrians, when victorious, had always 
respected the rights of sanctuary, which makes these 
murders, for they were nothing less, the more atrocious. 
According to the accounts of all the chroniclers, Edward 
tried ti> enter the church, but was prevented by the 
priest, who met him at the door with the consecrated 
htMit in his hand, and would not let him enter till he had 
(Hinted pardon to those who had taken refuge in the 
church. This was on Saturday. On the following morn- 
ing the I>uke of Somerset, the Lord Prior of 8t John'c, 
seven knights and seven squires, according to Stow, were 
taken out and beheaded. The excuse, oflTered by the par- 
tisans of Edward for this cowardly crime, was that the 
persons executed had taken refuge not in the church, but 
in the abbey and iU precincts. But there seems to be 
no doubt that all the persons executed were distinctly 
ini-luded in the promise given on Saturday. Whether 
E4lwar«l was an accomplice in the murder of King Henry 
is nrit known. In 1473 Edward accepted an invitation to 
hunt with Neville, the Archbishop of York, at his place 
in Hertfordshire; but, instead of paying the visit, Edward 
<k-nt for the archbishop to Windsor, arrested him, confis- 
cated the revenues of the bishopric, and kept him in 
prison for three years, partly in England, partly at 
(ruianes, till 1476; when he was released, but only sur- 
vived his release a few weeks. £<lward Justly distrusted 
the Kcurity of his claim to the throne, and tried to get 
possession, by treachery, of the person of Henry Earl of 
Richmond, who. with his uncle the Earl of Pembroke, 
liad taken refuge in Brittany. The duke, believiirg Ed- 
ward'K hypocritical assurances, thought he only wanted 
the Earl of Richmond in onler to marry him to his 
•laughter Elisabeth, and delivered up his young guest. 
But. fortaately, before they had sailed, he got wind of 
the intended treachery of Edward: and brought the 
young Henry back into sanctuary at St Malo. The next 
«lUArter from which Edward foresaw danger was from his 
brothers. Clarence and Gloucester, who were both in- 
triguing to get the fortune of the late Earl of Warwick. 
Clarence, having married the elder daughter, was sure of 
his portion; and Richard thought that by securing the 
younger daughter, the young widow of the late Prince of 
Waleji. he would be able to obtain half the fortune. It 
niattt^i-etl nothing to either of these noble personages that 
the Countess (»f Warwick was still alive, and entitled by 
law to roost of the property in dispute. Matters were ar- 
ran;;ed in some way, by the help of an act of parliament. 
so that both the royal dukes got a share of the plunder, 
but they were not content. There seems to have been no 
lure lost between any of the three brothers; for, in 1477, 
cureiir«. then a widower, had been thwarted in his 
intrigues to obtain the hand of Mary, sole daughter and 
heiress of Charles the Bold, the Duke of Burgundy, 
mainly through the resolute opposition of Edwanl. The 
ill-feeling between the two brothers could no longer be 

concealed: and in tlie lieginning of the next year Clarence 
was indicted for high treason, and condemned to death. 
Into the wars which Edward carried on with France and 
Scotland it is not necessary to enter. Both were con- 
nected with his projects of marrying two of his daughters, 
or rather afflancing them; for he looked a long way ahead 
in his attempts to provide for his children. Lewis XI., no 
doubt, sanctioned the contract of Elizabeth, the eldest 
daughter of Edward, to the dauphin; and Cicely, the 
next daughter, was contracted to the Prince of Scotland. 
By his quarrel with France Edward gained something; for 
Lewis XI. settled on him an ajinuity for life of 50.000 
crowns )>esides paying him 75,000 crowns down, and 
5000 crowns for the ransom of Margaret of Anjou. But 
in his transactions with King James of Scotland he did 
not fare so well, as he paid instalments of the dowry of 
Cecily without the marriage being carried out. Edward's 
death, which took place in April, 1483, was attributed by 
some to the intense disappointment which he felt with 
regr&rd to the failure of his scheme for the marriage of 
his eldest daughter to the dauphin. By others the illness, 
whicli ended fatally, is attributed to his debaucheries and 
to his gluttony. He made an edifying end. Hall gives a 
long speech which he addressed t<> the nobles of his court 
on his death-bed. There is no doubt that Hall's very 
favourable estimate of Edwartl's character is not sup- 
ported by facts. He had veiy great physical advan- 
tages, and a winning manner which stood him in good 
stead, when he made personal application for the bene- 
volences, so called, which at one time he exacted from 
his subjects. He was accomplished and physically brave; 
but his self-indulgence gradually sapped the vigour of his 
mind, so that towards the end of his reign he left the 
management of many of the alfairA of his realm in the 
hands of others. He had a wonderful memory, which 
never forgot a face or an injury. Though prodigal in his 
expenses, and profligate in his {ileasures, he was of a sus- 
picious and covetous nature. There is no shutting one's 
eyes to the many cruelties of which he was guilty. But 
he was undoubtedly very popular with the greater por- 
tion of his subjects; a popularity which he owed to his 
great personal beauty, and to that happy adaptability of 
disposition which enabled him to converse with his in- 
feriors as if they were his equals. He had great abilities. 
l>oth as a statesman and a general; but his moral quali- 
ties, as is the case with most kings, were in no wise 

Edward had by his wife three sons and seven daughters, 
the exact dates of whose respective births it is not easy 
to ascertain. The old chroniclers are very vague on this 
point, and more modem authorities differ very much 
among themselves, while some have fallen into niauifeot 
errors. The chief difficulty has been with regard to the 
exact date of the birth of the Duke of York (see Xotcs 
and Queries, 7th S. il. 367, 471, and ill. 15). Besides the 
young princes, whose memoirs are given below, there 
was a third son, George, created Duke of Bedford, the 
date of whose birth does not seem to l>e known; but it 
must have l>een some time after 1474 some say in 1477. 
He died some time before 1482. Of the daughters. Eliza- 
beth was bom 11th Febraary, 1465. In a MS. in the 
British Museum (Additional MS. 6113, Fol 48 b)-api.a- 


Dramatis PenoasB. 


Piamatia Vmnoom. 

rently a contemporary one with notes and additions made 
at a slightly later period— she is called "the Dolpbiuease 
of Frauuce " (see above). She never married the dauphin; 
but, after having had a narrow escape of being the wife 
of Bichard III., she became the queen of Henry VII. The 
second daughter, Mury, was bom 14th August, 1467. She 
was betrothed in 1481 to the Prince of Denmark, but died 
unmaiTied in May, 1482. The third daughter. Cicely, 
bom 1468 or 1409 (see aboveX married first John Vis- 
count Welles, and secondly Sir John (? Thomas) Kyme, 
and died without issue, 1507. The fourth daughter was 
Margaret, bom in April, 1472. She died in December of 
the same year (see Notes and Queries, 7th S. iU. p. 15). 
The fifth daughter was Anne, bom at Westminster in 
1475. She married Thomas Howard, third Duke of Nor- 
folk, and died about 1511, leaving no issue. The sixth 
was Catherine, bom at Eltham, 1470; she married the 
well-known William Courtenay. Earl of Devon, and died 
about 1527. Their only son. created Maix^uis of Exeter, 
was executed in 1556 by Henry VIII., and with him their 
line ended. The seventh daughter was Bridget, bora at 
Eltham, 10th November. 1480; she becamea nun and died 
at Dartford in 1517. The above list is compiled after 
reference to and collation of the best authorities; and 
the sequence of birth, in which the daughters are given, 
is confirmed by a memorandum of Richard III., dated 
1483, the object of which was to induce the widow of 
Edward IV. to leave the sanctuary at Westminster with 
her daughters, "that is to wit Elizabeth. Cecill. Anne, 
Kateryn. and Briggitte" (Elliri's Original Letters, letter 
xlvii. p. 149). As Mary and Margaret were both dead at 
this date it will be seen that Richard enumerates Uie 
daughters according to the date of their birth. 

2. Edward, Prince of Walbs, afterwards King 
Edward V. This unfortunate prince was bom in the 
Sanctuary, Westminster. 4th November, 1470, at a very 
critical period in the history of hia fatlier, who had 
Just been compelled to fly from his kingdom, owing to 
the rebellion of Warwick and his brother, Clarence, 
through which Henry VI. was, for a short time, restored 
to the tlirone. Queen Elizabeth had been in the Tower 
with her family; but finding that the people were all de- 
claring for King Henry she took refuge in the sanctuary 
at Westminster, where she, as Hall says (p. 285): " in great 
penurie forsake of all her frendes, was deliuered of a 
fsyre sonne called Edwarde. which was with small pdpe 
like a pure mans child Christened & Baptised, the God- 
fathers I>eing tlM Abbot & Pryor of Westmynster, & tlie 
godmother the lady Scrope." He was proclaimed king, 
9th April, 1483; but the council which unanimously pro- 
claimed him king was rent by the most serious divisions. 
The favour, which Edward IV. ha<l shown to his wife's 
relations at court, brought on them the bitter enmity even 
of those who like Lord Hastings were most attached to 
his own person; and. unfortunately for the young king, 
the party who were opposed to the queen too readily 
adopted the treacherous Gloucester as their ally. It was 
scarcely three weeks after the young king's proclama- 
tion when Gloucester had treacherously seized Earl Rivers 
and Lord Grey, and got the young king into his power. 
Queen Elizabeth with her second son Richard and her 


five daughters took refuge in the sanctuary at West- 
minster. This was on 1st May. Tliree days afterwards 
Gloucester brought his nephew, who waa now little mure 
than a prisoner, into London, when he was lodged i» the 
Tower, and his uncle appointed Protector. The corona- 
tion had been fixed for 22nd June, but it never took place. 
Ou the 26th of that mouth, after some proceedings veiy 
properly described as a hypocritical farve, Richard took 
his seat on the throne in Westminster Uall, having vir- 
tually elected himself king, and on the 6th July folloviiw 
he was crowned. Shortly afterwards, and probably in the 
next month, August, the two young princes, Edward and 
his brother Richard, were murdered in the Tower. 

The following curious accounts are given in Rastell's 
Chronicle, first printed in 1520. We have quoted the 
exact words of the Chronicler, because it is evident^ from 
the details given, that these accounts must have been 
founded on some well-defined tradition: 

" But of the maner of the dethe of this yonge kynfe, 
and of his brother, there were dyuers opinyons; but the 
most corny n opinyon was, that they were smolderyd be- 
twene two fetherbeddes, and that, in Uie doynge, the 
yonger brother escaped from vnder the fetherbeddes. sad 
crept vnder the bedstede. and there lay naked a whyle, 
tyll that they had smolderyd the yonge kyng so tliat bs 
was surely dede; and after y^, one of them toke his brother 
from vnder the bedstede, and h}'lde hu face downe to 
the grounde with his one hande. and with the other haade 
cut his throte boUe a souder with a dagger. It m a 
meruayle that any man coude haue so harde a harts U> 
do so cruell a dede, saue (mely that necessyie compeUs4 
them, for they were so charged by the duke, the protee- 
tour, that if they shewed nat to hym the bodyes of bolht 
those chyldeme dede, on the morowe after they were se 
cdmaunded. that than they them selfe shulde be put W 
dethe. Wherfore tbey that were so oOinauu«led to do it. 
were compelled to fullfyll the protectoura wyll. 

" And after that, the bodyes of these .IL chyldeme. ss 
the opinyon raune. were bothe closed in a great hsuj 
cheste, and, by the meanes of one that waa secrete with 
the protectour. they were put in a shyppe goynge to 
llaunders; and. whan the shyppe waa in the bUcke depcs. 
this man threwe l>othe tliose dede bodyes, so closed in tbv 
cheste, ouer the hatches into the see; and yet none of 
the maryners, nor none in the shj-ppe. saue onely the ssjpd 
man, wyst what tliynges it was that was there so incloisd. 
Whiche sayenge dyuers men coniectured to be trewe, te- 
cause that the bones of the sayd chyldeme coade never 
be founde buryed, nother in the Towre nor in no notW 

" Anotlier opinyon there is, that they whiche had tl«e 
charge to put them to dethe, caused one to crye sodayaly, 
'Treason, treason. Wherwith the chyldeme beyi^ s 
ferde. desyrc<l to knowe whst was best for them to da 
And than they bad them hyde them selfe in a great chests, 
that no man shulde fynde them, and if any body eaiat 
into the chamlire they wolde say they wore nat titers. 
And accordynge as they counsclly<l them, they cn^o 
bothe into the cheste, whiche, anone after, they locked 
And then anone they buryed that cheste in a great pytU 
vnder a steyre. which they 1>eforc had made theifon. 
and anone cast eithc theron. and so buryed themqvyoka 


OranMtii fmnaom^ 


Dramatis PeraoiuB. 

Whfcbe cheste wai after caste into the blacke depet, as 
in before sayde" (Dibdin's Reprint, 1811, pp. 20?, 298). 

a. RiCHABD, DCKK OP YoRK, was bom 17th August, 1473, 
at .Shrewsbury. The date of his birth is generally given 
as 1472; but in a letter from Sir John Paston to his 
brother, written on the "hut daye of AprylU" 1472, he 
says: "The Qween luidde chylde, a dowghter, but late at 
Wyndesor; ther oflf I trow ye hadde word " (Paston Letters, 
vol. iii. p^ 40). Tills daughter was Margaret (see above, 
note IX snd Sir John Pastou's statement is amply con- 
firmed by the evidence of her tomb in Westminster 
Abbey, which exi>>ted in 1742 (see Notes and Queries, 7th 
.S. iii. 15>. It is pretty certain that this young prince 
shared the unhappy fate of his brother in the Tower, 
although the bodies were never found. In spite of the 
confession of the murderers, some doubt existed as to 
Uie fate of the younger brother. Taking advantage of 
these doubts, one Perkin Warbeck personated him. Mar- 
garet, Duchess of Burgundy, sister of Edward IV., re- 
ceived Perkin with open arms; and James IV. of Scotland 
trave him in marriage the Lady Catherine Gordon, daugh- 
ter of the Earl of Huntly. In 1497 he landed in Corn- 
wall, where nomcrous sympathizers joined his standard 
and laid siege to Exeter. But when the royal army came 
in sight, he took to flight, and sought refuge in the sanc- 
tuary at B^uiUeu in Hampshire. On a promise of his 
life being spared he surrendered himself on 8th June, 1408. 
He was compelled to stand for two days in the stocks, 
and to read a confession of his imposture. He was after- 
wards committed to the Tower; and, eventually, in 14U0, 
having entered into a plot with the Earl of Warwick, his 
fellow prisoner, he was condemned to death, and exe- 
cuted on 16th November, having fully confirmed his pre- 
vious confession in every particular. Although many 
writers of great ability have professed a belief in Perkin 
Warbeck. and have questioned the genuineness of his con- 
fession, there can be very little doubt that he was an im- 
postor, and that both princes died in the Tower by foul 
nieana Richard Duke of York was married in 1478, when 
about five years old, to Anne Mowbray, daughter of John 
>Iowhray, the last Duke of Norfolk of Uiat name. In one 
of the Paston Letters, dated November 6. 1479, John Pas- 
t<>n writes to Sir John Paston that he wants to get for 
his brother Edmund the wardship of one John Clippesby 
"dwrjng the nonnage of my Lord and Lady of York" 
<voL ii. p. 268)l These titles, applied to mere children, 
seem very absurd. 

4 ORomoB, DUKB OP ClarbkcI (see III. Henry VI. 
note IS) Shakespeare has invested the character of this 
worthless sdon of the House of York with an interest 
which, as far as history shows, he did not deserve. He 
had all the vfces of his two brothers without their 
eo«rag«. The enmity between him and Richard dated 
trttm the tine when the latter prop08e<t, soon after the 
nortler of her youthful hnsband. to marry the widow of 
Idward of Lancaster. Prince of Wales, and sister-in-law 
of (larence. Richard's oliject was to obtain some portion 
ef the fcreat wealth which the kinfr-maker left behind him, 
sad which, as already stated, Clarence had coolly appro- 
priate<i without a thought The quarrel t)e}^n as early 
•s 1472. In one of th« Paston Letters (vol. iii. p 38) 


written on 14th February, 1472. there Is the following 
reference to this dispute: 

" Yisterday the Kynge, the Qween. my Lordes of Clar- 
aunce and Olowcester, wente to Scheen to pardon; men 
sey. nott alle In cheryte. . . ." 

" The Kynge entretyth my Lorde off Clarance fTor ray 
Lorde of Olowcester; and, as Itt is seyite, he answerythe, 
that he may weel have my Ladye hys suster in lawe, butt 
they schall parte no lyveloti, as he seythe; so what wyll 
falls can I nott seye." There is also the following refers 
ence to this dispute given on p. 96 in the letter dated 
«th November, 1478: "and It [is] seyd fforserteyn, that, 
the Duke of Clarance makyth hym bygge in that he kan, 
schewyng as he wolde bnt dele with the Duke of Olow- 
cester; but the Kyng ententyth, in eschewying all incon- 
veiiyents, to be as bygge as they bothe, and to be a 
stykeler atweyn them; and som men thynke thst nndre 
thys ther sholde be soni other thynge entcndyd, and sora 
treason conspyretl; so what shall falle, can I nott seye.* 
In December. 1470. Clarence's wife died. For some tim« 
before that event he had withdrawn from court, and held 
hardly any intercourse with his eldest brother. The 
qunn'el was, as usual, about money matters. The death 
of Clarence's wife is said to have had a great effect upon 
his mind: but it does not seem to have diverted it from 
its main object, the greed of gain. Scarcely was his wife, 
who was said to have been poisoned by one of her ser- 
vants. c()n8i};ned to the tomb, than Clarence solicited the 
hand of Mary, the only daughter of Charles the Bold by 
his second wife, Mni7 Isabella of B<»urlK>n. The opposi- 
tion of Edward to this match made the breach between 
the brothers still wider. In the same year one of Clar- 
ence's servants was accused of practising magic; and, on 
the rack, he denounced one of his accomplices, Thomas 
Burdett, "a gentleman in the Duke's family " (Lingard, 
vol. iv. p 208)i They were charged with having "cal- 
culated the nativities of the king and the prince, and of 
having circulated certain rhymes and ballads of a sedi- 
tious tendency " («e teupra. p. 209). They were both exe- 
cuted, protesting their innocence to the very last Clar^ 
ence warmly took up their cause, which apparently gave 
offence to Edward; and early in January in the next year. 
1478, Clarence was impeached on the charge of high 
treason Xretore the House of Lords. A very plausible in- 
dictment was framed against him, in which he was 
accused of aiming at the next succession to the crown by 
underhand means. It Is very likely that Shakespeare, in 
representing Oloucester, for dramatic purposes, as insti- 
gating these accusations, was not far from the truth. Cer- 
tain it is that home powerful influence over Edward must 
have incensed his mind against his brother, or he would 
not have consented to such an extreme measure as the 
Impeachment and condemnation of Clarence. The reason 
which Shakespeare alleges. In this play, for the arrest of 
Clarence is one of the reasons given by Hall (p. 826): 
•• The fame was that the king or the Quene, or bothe 
sore troubled with a folysh Prophesye, and by reason 
thcrof begft to stomacke and greuously to grudge ngnynst 
the duke. The effect of which was, after king Edward 
should relgne, one whose first letter of hys name slioulde 
l)e a 0;" a form of prophecy which was certainly fulfilled 
when Gloucester usurped the throne. Of course the 


DrumatiM PurttuusB. 


Dramati* PenM^*iia;. 

Yorkists tlirew all the blame of the quarrel between Ed- 
ward and Clarence upon the unfortunate queen. All that 
Hall says with regard to Clarence's death is that the king 
"caused him to be apprehended, and cast into the Towre, 
where he beyng taken and adiudged for a Traytor, was 
priuely drouued in a But of Maluesey " (p. 326X Lingard 
characterizes this as a silly reiH>rt, and says that the 
manner of his death has never been ascertained (vol. iv. 
p. 211). The historian of Croyland, who is the best 
authority for this period, is silent on this point. 

Clarence had by his wife, Isabella (see IIL Henry VL 
note 13). four children, two sons and two daughters. Two 
of these, a son and daughter, died in their infancy. The 
son of Clarence, mentioned in tliis play, is Edward Plaii- 
tagenet, Earl of Warwick. He was imprisoned by Henry 
VII. lliere is no doubt that the children of this piince, 
supposing the children of Edward IV.— as Richard sought 
to prove -were illegitimate, would have been the next heirs 
to the crown. But Richard maintained that the attainder 
of tlie Duke of Clarence debarred his children from the 
succession. This, it may be remarked, furnishes another 
reason for suspecting that Clarence's impeachment and 
death were really the indirect work of his villainous 
brother. Henry VII. undoubtedly felt that the young 
Earl of Warwick might, at any time, l)ecome a formidable 
rival; for his own claim to the crown really rested upon 
the fact that he had married the sole surviving child of 
Edward IV. When Richard's own son died, he recognized 
Edward Plantagenet, Earl of Warwick, as the heir- 
apparent; but afterwards, fearing that the people, in 
their anxiety to get rid of him, might put forward his 
own nephew as the real heir to the crown, he imprisoned 
him in tlie castle of Sheriff's Hutton, in Yorkshire. Thence 
the young prince was removed by Henry VII. in 1486 to 
the Tower, wliere he remained as a prisoner till his exe- 
cution; except for a brief interval, when, a report hav- 
ing been spread that he was dead, one Lambert Simuel 
impersonated him. This was in 1486; and the Earl of 
Warwick was brought from the Tower to the palace at 
Sheen in order that he might be shown daily to all at 
court to prove the imposture of Simnel. This was a poli- 
tic move on the part of Henry. But it appears that the 
Earl of Warwick was soon after sent again to the Tower. 
Here, in 1499, Perkin Warbeck, the pretended Duke of 
Y'ork, became his fellow-prisoner (sec above, note 3). The 
two youths contracted a close friendship and adopted a 
common plan for their escape. Henry was probably not 
sorry for this opportunity of getting rid of a most dan- 
gerous claimant to the crown ; and on the 24th Novem- 
ber, 1499, the sole surviving son of Clarence was beheaded. 

5. Richard. Dukk of Gloster (see III. Henry VI. 
note 14). Richard is one of those characters in histor}* 
who have been selected, from time to time, by enthusiastic 
writers as a subject for the process commonly known as 
" whitewashing." He shares this distinction with such in- 
jured Mints ns Lewis XI., the amiable father of Beatrice 
Cenci, the Boi-gias, Ac, not to mention more modem in- 
stances. Certainly Richard is a very flne subject for this 
prooe.^is; as, whatever posterity may think, his contem- 
poraries seem to have l>een singularly agreed upon the 
fact that he was as unscrupulous and bloodthirsty an 


individual as ever sat on a tlirone, either by usurpation or 
natural right. So far from haviug blackened his char- 
acter, Shakespeare in this play, at any rate, has given, 
on the whole, as favourable a picture of him as any con- 
scientious historian could have done. As to his personal 
appearance we have a contemporary account of that 
from the pen of John Rous, a priest in the household of 
the King Maker, who describes Richard as "of small 
stature, having a short face, shoulders of unequal height, 
the right being the higher" (French, p. 214). Hall's 
description of him, copied from Sir Thomas More, is as 
follows (p. 421): " As he was small and Utle of stature 
so was he of body greately deformed, the one shoulder 
higher than the other, his face small but hia cdtenaonce 
was cruel, and such, that a man at the first aspect would 
iudge it to sauor and smel of malice, fraude, and deceite: 
when he stode musing he would byte and chaw besely 
his nether lippe, as who sayd, that his fyerce nature iu 
his cruell body alwaies chafed, sturred and was euer vn- 
quiete: beside that, the dagger that he ware he would 
when he studied with his hand plucke vp and downe in 
the shethe to the middes, neuer drawing it fully out.*' I 
have read somewhere, I cannot put my hand on the re- 
ference, that he had beautiful hair which he wore long in 
order to cover the deformity of his shoulders. Perfaiq« 
we should have known more on this point, had the efBgy 
which Henry VII. caused to be put on his tomb not been 

It must be confessed that, as far as Richard's intellec- 
tual qualities and his remarkable courage are concerned, 
Shakespeare has done him full justice. It is probable 
that Richard had formed, at a comparatively early age. the 
design of obtaining the crown. Xor was it unnatural that 
he should do so. He felt himself to be superior In ca- 
pacity to both his brothers; and the essential illegality 
which accompanied all his father's solemn claims to the 
throne must have habituated his mind,- from an early sge, 
to pay very little regard to law or right where his ambi- 
tion was concerned. Once having made up his mind to 
aim at the crown, he knew that he could only do so by 
throwing overboard all scruples. So, when he had gained 
his object, the only means of preserving what he bad 
gained was by wholesale murder. Not content with ca- 
joling into marriage the widow of the young prince whom 
he had brutally killed with his own hand, there is do 
doubt that, after her premature death, when he perceived 
that £lizal)eth of York was looked upon by the people m 
the legitimate claimant to the crown, he was anzioof to 
contract an incestuous union with his niece; and it vu 
only the strong representations on the part of some u( 
his confidants that such a marriage would incense the 
people against him. wliich induced him to abandon thii 
infamous project It is difficult to form any eatimste 
of what Richard's capacity for government might hsre 
proved, had his tenure of the throne been more secure: 
for his reign, of such short duration, was one incessant 
struggle to maintain the position which he had usurped 
He appears to have displayed a remarlcable zeal tor refona- 
ing public morals at the commencement of hia reiga 
But it may be doubted whether this aeal had any deep 
foundation. The fu';t is, that during his brief reign lie va» 
always so intent on the commiwion of aome rillahiy. c 

DramAtifl PeraoiUB. 


Dramatis Pentonse. 

OD the execution of soine grind eotip of hypocrisy, that 
he never had the hiiiim for doing good, even had he poa- 
aeaaad the ineliiHiftlon thentoi. He aometiines aeema to 
haTe taken Lawis XL for hb BMxlel, not only in hia aifec- 
tatioa of religkm, bat in hia politic dealing with some of 
his opponenta. For instance, hia attempt to get the young 
Earl of Richmond into hia power by bribing lAudois, 
minister of thie Duke of Brittany, — an attempt which very 
nearly succeeded, ^-waa quite worthy of the wily Lewis. 
He seems to have done at least one good action during hia 
reign, when he diaafforeated alarge tract of country called 
Wichwood. between Woodatock and Briatol, which Ed- 
ward IV. had inclosed as a deer forest. He also founded 
two colleges,one at Middleham in Yorkshire, and a " oolle- 
iriate chauntry," near the Tower of London. By his un- 
natural marriage (in 1478) with Ann, s«!ond daughter of 
the great Earl of Warwick, and widow of Edward Prince 
of Walea. son of Henry YL, he had only one son, who 
was bom at Middleham Castle, 1474, and died Slat March, 
1484, after he had been created Prince of Wales. French 
(p. 215) says that Richard had two or three illegitimate 
children, one of them being John of Glouceater, or aa he 
waa sometimes called John of Pomfret, of whom nothing 
is known except that he was knighted in 1488, and was 
appointed governor of Calais in March, 1486. A daughter, 
called Dame Catherine, waa betrothed to William Herbert, 
second Earl of Pembroke; but ahe died before the mar- 
riage could took place. Anotherson, called Richard Plan- 
tagent. is said to have fled after the Battle of Bosworth, and 
to have apprenticed himself to a mason. Various roman- 
tic stories are narrated about this prince (see Notes and 
(Queries, 0th aeries, vol viii. pp. 103. 102. 251, vol ix. p. 12). 

RiclMrd's body, after having been submitted to every 
poadble indignity, was buried in the Orey Frians Church 
at Leicester. King Henry VII. caused a tomb to be 
erected over his remaina According to Baker (p. 235): 
" King Henry the Seventh caused a Tomb to be made, and 
set up over the place where he waa burled, with a Pic- 
ture of alabaater, representing his person; which at the 
suppression of that Monastery was utterly defaced. Since 
when, hia Grave overgrown with Nettlea and Weeds, is 
not to be found; only the Stone Chest, wherein his Corps 
lay. is now made a Drinking-Trough for Horses at a com- 
mon Inn in Leiceiter, and retaineth the only memory of 
this Monarcha greatness. " Of the original tomb or drink- 
ing-trongfa mentioned by Baker no trace is to be found, 
and on the spot where hia tafrfy is aupposed to have been 
thrown into the water, a willow was planted, which was 
known by the name of "King Dick's Willow." ThU 
trough ia said to have remained tiU about the beginning 
of the eii^teenth century; and Throaby in his History of 
Leicester, 1791, saya thai persona were shown some frag- 
menta of it about the year 1700. (See Notes and Queries, 
eih seriea, voL xiL pp. 71, 72.) 

Thoae who are inclined to take a favourable view of 
Richard's character win find all the facts and conjectures, 
which can be made to tell in his favour, most ably put 
forward in the Hiatory of the Life and Reign of Richard 
III. by George Back (Rennet's History of England, vol. i. 
Pp. 514-577. edn. 1700)i But it must be confessed that 
^lii advocate ia more saccessful in throwing doubts on 
^i physical than on hia moral deformities. The question 

I of Richard's guilt, with regard to the alleged murder of 
I his nephews, will be found very fully discussed in note C. 
in the appendix to vol. iv. of Lingard's History of England. 

0. Henry Earl of Richmond. .\rTERWARi>s King 
Henbt VII. Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, was the 
son of Edmund Tudor. Earl of Richmond, and Margaret, 
daughter of John, Earl of Somerset, descended from John 
of Gaunt by his marriage with Catharine Swynford (see 
I. Henry VI. note 4). Henry's claim, therefore, to the 
crown, such as it is, came through his mother, and not 
through his father. The latter, indeed, was the son of 
Catharine, widow of Henry V., who married Owen Tudor. 
The date of Richmond's birth is rather uncertain, but most 
probably he was bom in July, 1466. The father died very 
soon after his birth. Other authorities My he was a 
posthumous child, and was not bom till January, 1457. 
The place of his birth was Pembroke Castle. When four- 
teen days old, he took refuge with his uncle, Jasper Tudor, 
at the court of the Duke of Brittany, where he remained 
nearly fourteen years; during which time he narrowly 
escai)ed falling into the power, first of Edward IV., and 
then of Richard. It is evident, from the fact of his com- 
mencing negotiations, when in exile, for a marriage with 
the Princess Elizabeth, that Henry did not consider his 
title as the representative of the House of Lancaster to 
be a very strong one. The aversion, which he is alleged 
to have felt towards women, may have arisen partly from 
the fact that, on both sides, he derived his claim to the 
crown from the female line. However, he was careful to 
go through the cereniojiy of coronation on the 3rd Octo- 
ber, 1485, previous to his marriage with Elizabeth, which 
took place in January, 1486. It will be seen that he was 
in his twenty-ninth year when he came to the throne. He 
died 21st April, laOO. in the fifty-third year of his age, 
and the twenty-fourth of his reign. With the events of 
that reign we are not concerned. The only fact which 
may be noticed is the curious change whicli apparently 
took place in his character after his accession to the 
throne. When the battle of Bosworth was fought he 
seems to have been the type of all that was chivalrous; 
while what we know of his life during his exile shows him 
to have been prudent and brave, ready to encounter 
danger whenever there was a chance of overcoming it, 
but not to imperil his own life or those of others in 
ambitious enterprises. There is no doubt that, for some 
years before he died, he developed a ihost avaricious 
temperament; and that all the popularity, which he 
fairly eamed in the first years of his reign, was dissi- 
pated in the latter part of it by the horrible oppression 
to which he subjected his subjects for the sake of extort- 
ing money from them. Still it cannot be denied that, on 
the whole, he was a merciful ruler, even if his mercy was 
the result of policy; and it may be noted that the accu- 
sations, frequently brought against him, of treating his 
wife Elizabeth with indifference and neglect rest uinm 
very slender foundation. He seems to have possessed the 
singular merit in a king of being faithful to the marriage 
bed. He had by his wife many children. Arthur, born 
8eptem1)er. 1486, died 2nd April, 1502; his death being 
one of the greatest calamities that ever befel this coun- 
try. The second, Henry, afterwards Henr>' VIII. , was bora 




" Thomu Bouruhinr" wu, accardlng to Preoch. " aecond 
•on ot WlllluD Bourchier, Earl ot En, li; hli wif« Anns 
FlugUsenet. daughler uid eTentiullfialB hsli nt TbamM 
III Wooditock, youngeit nn ot Edwud III. The Luly 
Anoe PlsriUgeuet wm the hI.Ioh oI Ittlmund aUAord, 
BlUi Earl ul SUSord. K.G.. who «u slalu tt Slmnbury. 
Her mother, Eleanor de Buhiin. lithe 'IMicheuot Olou- 
ceater' in Ktng Rk'hard II."(«:e nutr 3&, Richard IIJ 
FreD<:h atld) "ThomM Boiirchler wai appiihited to the 
Kc uf Worceetur In 1434, ttanalated to Ely in 1443. and 




5, and asaln In 1460; can 

linal of 


Cyriacui to 

d united 


led three 

namelj-, BJwanl IV., Kkhi 





bakehouae, and chaml 
wooda: be wu orchhl 
Alluding to hie death 

tntutitcd In CanterbniT, 14H. and In tlu folloiving jvir 
wa* made lord chancellor, in vhlcb capacl^ in dellrered 
the kiog^ qnech al the opening ot parliameDt. 14B& Ha 
wu nicceeded in the liiehopric ut Ely bj- John Allcockiwa* 
made cardinal in 1403, and died IWO. Bacon in bll Hit- 
tocT uttji: " Sa waa a wlie Man, and an Elaqnent. hat In 
hli nature banb, and hangtatj^ moeta accepted by tlM 
King, hat enrled by Ibe NoblUt;, and hu«d d[ Ok People. 
Neither waa hU Kama latl out or Ferkln'a PiDdamatlM 
for anj good will, but thay would not trlng him in 
amongst Uie King'a Caatlng-Coanlen. becauae he had the 
Image and Sapencriptlon upon him ol the Fope. In Ui 
Eunonr of Cardinal. He won the King with Sacrecy and 
DUigence, bnt ehlelly became he waa hla old aerraiX la 
hli leee Formnea: And alto for that (in hla affection^ be 
waa not without an inieUrale Malice againat the Hone 

"''"""""""""'''" """"'^ I 

In Kotberh*. afterward a fellow of kingi calledge In 
Cambriilgc. then Chaplalne to king Eilward Uie 4. and 
keeper n! Uie prille teale, tint |>referred by the K. to 
the aea ol R<ichester, then Irunilnted to Llncolne, where 
hee aate 9, yeerei, at length made L. chaneellor ol Eng- 
land, which office he cnloyed till the kinga death: befon , 
the which time he wu prelerre>l to the aea of Vorke. | 
he erected a colledg at BolhertlBai In Ynrkeablre, dedl- ' 

in !• Dloceaie of York, flre prlealoi. die choriatea, 
S. •cboolemaitere. one for aong, 1. for grimer and one tor 
wriUnii, be gnve a rich Uiter to the Church uf Vorke (for 
K. Edward the fourth had broken the old) he cauaed 


g abu to take Envy trc 

m the King, more than the 

.a. willing to put npo» 

1 hlDL For the King cared 

id atand Envy, and appear 

in an] 



i, hut lea daring. Butblthe 

r of BiacUouJ, Ume did 

after diew, that UMBlalMp 


illng the Klng'i Humuui 


to the 

whom be did aMntty hicll* 

■olt from Kina Klehard 

1. But after the Dukawa 

engaged, and thought the Bl 

abop ahould hare been hit 


Pilot In the Temp«l,th. 

e Bbdiop wM gotten Into the 

Mat, and lied bey. 

und Seaa. Bnt whataoais 


Id ttai 

It he wa, Oie principal Mean of Joyning the two 


" (see Kennet'a Blatorj 

■ uf England, *ol, 1. p. Ot). 

He waa ninety-one yeara old when he died, and m* nt»- 

i by Henry Dean, Biiho 

poraalUbnry. HltbMUlt- 

dace which he poMcened in London, Ely Houa, 


where now Ely Place 1 

i>. Tt,. garden, wen eak- 


iwberriea. a fact allndwl to 

In tbh 

1 play {ill. 4. gS-3B): 

1- !-"Uf ini.rtH. Ihen : 

n Latin 

itchln at Wblle-hall by Weitmlneter. At 
le pantry and Bake bouie, and new cbambera 
I the river. At Blohopa Thorpe, the panlry. 

ly be aeen carved. 1 
iiid trantloted by SI: 

llnga which thti prelate erecUd 
rer of the cathedral of Canter 
e, the letters M X and 

• any* (anno ISOO); "on the 
daydoceaaed. Th. Kotlieriiam I 
Arcbblibop of York, at bia manor of Cawood, at the age ' 
of liivl. yeereanr inure, and wu bnried in the mlnttcr 

>. John tfoRToN. Bishop or Elt, wu the eldeit ann 
of Richard Mortnn, a gentleman ot a good Danelahire 
family, bom 1410; he wu appointed Blahop ot Ely, 1478, i 

10. HdiRTaTArroRP. DukkofBuckikquah, inccveded 
hla ([ranJtalher, Hnrnphrey XtaRord, who waa killed at 
the batUe ul Northampton (aee II. Henry VI. n<iteg). Hit 
lather. Bnmpbrer fitalTi^nl. waa Ulled at the battle of 
St. A11lan^ 14Sn. Aa hu already been mentioned, the 

derived hia claim, like 


ni the I 

v the mother of Duke Humphrey, baring been the 
angler of Edwaril the Thlrd'a yonngeat ton (nt luprt 
■me note). There la no dnuht thnt it waa chlrflj thr«i(k 
uoklngham'a intliieii.-e that Richanl waa able tonm* 
ie throne; and. in retiim for hit lervlcea, he wucreatel 

it PeraoiuB. 


Dmnntis Ptnonv. 

Alt of England and Chamberlain of Xorth and 
Wales. Backingham was actuated by enmity 

the queen's family; and it would appear that 
1, with his usual craft, induced Buckingham to 

an accomplice in his designs against the young 
by pointhug out to him that, when Edward V. ol>- 
the kingly power, he would be sure to revenge the 
i that bad been done to members of his mother's 
by Buckingham. Shakespeare has followed his- 
making Richard employ Buckingham as his advo- 
ore the citizens of London. It would seem that the 
ig between Buckingham and Richard flrst arose 
• refusal of the king to grant the complete restor- 
the Earl of Hereford's possessions, which Bucking- 
di claimed as the lineal descendant of Humphrey 
mL This claim was resented by Richard, mainly 
' it lenred to remind him that the claimant repre- 
Um House of Lancaster; the estates being the same 
rittngbcoke. afterwards Henry IV., had inherited 
lage (see Richard II. note 4). According to some 
hroniiden Buckingham refused to appear at the 
km of Richard on account of iUn^s. Hall says 
that the king "sent him word to ryse and ryde or 
de make hym to be caried. Whereupon gorgeously 
Hi, and sompteonsly trapped with bumynge carte 
f golde embroidered, he roade before the kyng 
1 Londd with an euill will and woorse barte. And 
iwfthstandynge, he roase the daye of the coro- 
from the feast, feignyng him selfe sicke, which 
chard sayd was done in hate and spighte of him." 
lis Backingham seems really to have believed that 
was not safe owing to the king's ill feeling. While 
tn this frame of mind he retired to his castle at 
»c)c, where Bishop Morton, who was under his 
n a kind of honourable captivity (see above, note 9), 
fco have persuaded him to undertake the restora- 
tbe young prince to the tiirone. But this scheme 
nptly put an end to by the news of the violent 
f the two princes; and the object of the conspiracy 
D changed, on the proposal of the Bishop of Ely, 
substitute the Earl of Richmond as claimant to 
>iie. The Duke of Buckingham raised his stan- 
Brecknock. Richard was at that time in Lincoln- 
ot Ave days later he had Joined his army at Lei- 
rbcre he issued a singulai'ly high moral procla- 
in which he charged his enemies, not only with 
'or their object the destruction of the throne, but 
b "the letting of virtue, and the damnable main- 
of vice" (see Rymer XII. 204, quoted by Lingard, 
pL S4<D. Buckingham, at the head of his Welsh- 
tended to cross the 5^vem, and Join with the 
sys and others who had raised an army in Devon- 
d Cornwall. Had this junction l>een effected it 
irobable that Richard would have )>een defeated; 
eary flood prevented Buckingham crossing the 
md having no money nor provisions for his army, 
cfted him, and without striking a single blow 
saw the conspiracy, for the time at least, broken 
rton fled disgnised to Flandera Buckingham 
efage with Banister, an old servant, in Shrop- 
lere, disguised as a common labourer, he was I 

by his ungrateful host, and arrested by the I 

sheriflf while digging a ditch. He was conveyed to Salis- 
bury, where Richard was, and promptly beheaded without 
any triaL The old chroniclers relate that Banister and 
all his family came to a miserable end. Some say that the 
traitor did not even get the reward which Richard had 
promised him. On the other hand there is evidence that 
one of the duke's manors was granted to the servant who 
betrayed his master. Buckingham married Catharine 
Woodville, sister of Queen Elisabeth, by whom he had 
two sons and two daughters. The eldest son, Edward 
Stafford, is the Duke of Buckingham in Henry VIII. His 
second son, Henry, was created Earl of Wiltshire by 
Henry VIII., 1&09, and died without issue, 1628. Of the 
two daughters, Elizabeth married Richard Ratcliff, Lord 
Fitzwater; ahd Anne married, flrst. Sir Walter Herbert, 
secondly, George Hastings, Earl of Huntingdon. An ar- 
rangement is said to have been made between Bucking- 
ham and Richard, before the death of Ricliard's son, 
that that young piiuce should marry one of Buckingham's 

11. Duke of Norfolk. This was Sir John Howard, 
only son of Sir Robert Howard and Margaret, eldest 
daughter of Thomas de Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk (see 
Richard II. note 6). Sir John Howard was the flrst 
member of his family who was ennobled with the duke- 
dom of Norfolk, the premier dukedom which has been 
held by the Howard family ever since. Sir John Howard 
early distinguished himself as a soldier in the wars with 
France, and accompanied Talbot in that fatal attempt to 
raise the siege of (Jhatillon in which that great general 
met his death (see I. Henry VI. note 11). Sir John was 
a great favourite with Edward VI. , who appointed him to 
several important and valuable offices. He was sent on 
several embassies to France to Lewis XL, the result of 
which was that he amassed a large fortune. De Commines 
says that Lord Howard, as he was then called— he was 
created Baron Howard in 1470 — received of Lewis XI. "in 
less than two years space, in money and plate, 24,000 
crowna" He also received the grant of many forfeited 
manors; and in 1470 he was made captain-general of the 
king's forces at sea. In 1470 he was appointed deputy- 
governor of Calais and the adjacent marches. In spite of 
the debt of gratitude that he owed to Edward IV. he was 
faithless to his benefactor's son, and followed the for- 
tunes of the usurper; tliinking, probably, that more per- 
quisites were to be obtained from the latter sovereign. 
The young prince, Richard Duke of York had been, as 
already stated (see above, note 3), solemnly betrotl^ed to 
Lady Anne Mowbray, the only surviving child of John 
Mowbray, fourth Duke of Norfolk (see III. Henry VI., 
note 15), and on him had been conferred all the dignities 
and titles of the Duke of Norfolk Yet, while that young 
prince was supposed still to be alive, Richard created his 
devoted and high -principled adherent. Lord Howard, 
Duke of Norfolk and Earl Marshal. The date of this 
creation by Richard is worth noticing, as it implies a 
knowledge on his part of the death of the young prince 
who had already been created Duke of Norfolk. Two days 
after obtaining the dukedom. Howard was appointed High 
Steward of England. He attended Richard's coronation, 
following his son, Thomas, Earl of Surrey, who bore the 



Dramatis Per»one. 


Dmmatia Penona. 

Bword of state, the duke himself carrying the king's crown 
and walking next before him (see Hall, p. 876). In the 
same year the duke waa made Lord Admiral of Kngland, 
Ireland, and A(|uitaiDe for life. He was killed at the 
battle of Bosworth, flghting by the side of Richard; whose 
cause, be it noted to his credit, he refused to desert, 
even in face of the well-known warning couplet affixed 
to his tent the night before the battle, v. 3. 304. 306: 

Jcx:key of Norfolk, be not too bold. 

For Dickon thy roaster is bought and sold. 

The Duke of Norfolk was twice married, first to Catharine, 
daughter of William Lord Moleyns, by whom he had 
issue one son, the above-mentioned Earl of Surrey, who 
succeeded to his dukedom, and four daughters; secondly, 
he married Margaret, daughter of Sir John Ched worth, by 
whom he had one daughter, Catharine, married to John 
Bourchier, Lord Bemers, who translated Froissart. 

12. Earl of Surrey. This is the Earl of Surrey men- 
tioned in the above note. He held an important com- 
mand at Bosworth, where he was taken prisoner. After 
a plucky attempt to avenge his father's death he gave up 
his sword to Sir Gilbert Talbot who led the right wing of 
Richard's army. Surrey led Richard's archers. He was 
committed to the Tower by Henry VIL, where he re- 
mained about three and a half years. With that eye for 
the main chance which distinguished his family, he was 
perfectly ready to do the new king homage, and as a re- 
ward was soon restored to his title of Earl of Surrey and 
all the lands which his first wife, Elizabeth, daughter and 
heiress of Sir Frederick Tilney of Ashwell Thorpe in Nor- 
folk had possessed. Surrey is chiefly remarkable for 
having commanded at the battle of Flodden. after which 
he was restored to his father's rank, February 1, 1514. 
He appears among the dramatis persons of Henry VIII., 
where the rest of his memoir will be more properly given. 

18. Antony Woodvillk, Earl Ricerg.— This was An- 
tony Woodvllle, the Lord Scales and Lord Rivers of III. 
Henry VI. (see note 22 of that play). It only remains to 
mention that he was one of the most learned men of his 
time, and that it was under his auspices that the first 
book printed in England was produced by Caxton. He 
was also the translator of the second book produced in 
England by Caxtuu, namely, "The Dictes and Sayeings of 
the Philosophers, translated out of French by Antone 
Erie Ryuyers." Folio, 1477. 

14. MAR(jUE8S OK Dorset. This is Thomas Orey, oldest 
%on of Queen Elizabeth, by her first marriage with Sir 
John Grey. He was created Marquess of Dorset by Ed- 
ward IV. 1475. This nobleman's life seems to have been 
full of vicissitudes and lucky escapes, though much men- 
tion of him is not made in history. When Richard made 
his attack upon the relations of Queen Elizabeth, 1483, 
it appears that the Marquess of Dorset must have been 
in charge of the Tower of London: and that he managed 
to escape into sanctuary, when his brother, L<ird Richard 
(irey, and his uncle. Earl Rivers, were executed. He did 
not venture out of sanctuary till the time when the Duke 
of Buckftigham's conspiracy against the king commenced, 
when he appears to have gathered together a large force 
of men in Yorkshire. After the ill success of Bucking 


ham's attempt he with others escaped into BritlaDy, 
where he remained in exile. He waa indicted by Richard 
for high treason iu the commission held by John, Lord 
Scrope, 1483-1484. Richard having succeeded in cajutiqg 
Queen Elizabeth into surrendering the custody of her 
daughters, he also persuaded her to write to lM/r son the 
Marquess of Dorset entreating him to come over to Eng- 
land, where he would receive great honours. For some 
little time he seems to have paid no attention to this 
offer; but in the next year, 1485, despairing of the success 
of Richmond's cause, he appears to have gone towards 
Flanders; but he could not have gone to England, be- 
cause we find that he was one of those left in Paris ss a 
hostage for some money, borrowed by Henry for the pur- 
poses of the expedition which ended in the victory of 
Bosworth. In 1486-1487 he appears to have been accused 
of participation in the rebellion of the Earl of Lincoln; 
he was arrested by order of Henry, and sent to the 
Tower, whence, however, shortly after, he was delivered 
and restored to full favour. French says that he died in 
1501. I can find no mention of his death, but in that 
year we find that Thomas Grey, Marquess of Dorset, was 
the " chief e defender " at the Justs, according to Uolinahed 
(vol. iii. p. 527X held at the Palace of Westminster, on the 
occasion of the marriage of Prince Arthur with Catharine 
of Arragon. Dorset was married to Cicely, daughter and 
heir of William Bonville, Lord Harrington. This mar- 
riage is alluded to by Clarence, who iu III. Henry VI. 
Iv. 1. 56-58, says to the king: 

Or el&e you would not have bestow'd the heir 
or the Lord Bonville on your new wife's son. 
And leave your brothers to ifo speed elsewhere. 

From the Marquess of Dorset was descended Lady Jane 
Grey, who, for a few days, was Queen of England. 

15. Lord Grey. Strictly speaking, he was only ^!ir 
Richard Grey. He was the youngest son of Sir John 
Grey. When the young king Edward V. was being brought 
from Northampton to London, he was accompanied, 
among others, by his uncles. Lord Rivers and Sir Richani 
Orey. On reaching Stony Stratford they were met by 
Gloucester and Buckingham, who instantly began to pick 
a quarrel with both the king's uncles, accusing then 
of trying to alienate the king's affection from the Protec- 
tor and his friends. Lord Richard Grey and Sir Th<»Dss 
Vaughan were both arrested in the king's presence and 
brought back to Northampton, whence, much to the 
young king's grief, they were sent back into the north, 
and subsequently to Pomfret Castle, where they were 
beheaded, June 13, 1483; the sentence being carried oat, 
with every aggravation that insolence could suggest, bj 
the Protector's jackal, Ratcliff. 

16. Earl of Oxford. See III. Henry VL note 6. In 
one of the Paston Letters, dated August 25tb, 1478. No 
821, we find the following passage: 

" Item, as ffor the pagent that men sey that the Erie 
of Oxenforde hathe pleyid atte Hamniys, I suppose ye 
have herde theroff; itt is so longe agoo. I was nott in 
thys contre when the tydyngs come, therfor I sent vow 
no worde theroff. 

"Butt ffor conclusion, as I her seye, he lyepe the 
wallys, and wcnte to the dyke, and iu to the dyke to the 

DrmmaUt PataoiMB. 


DramatiH Penouie. 

chynne; to whatt entent I cao nott telle; some sey, to 
stele awey, and lotne thynke be wolde have drownyd 
bymselffe. and lo it is demyd" (vol ilL pp. 235. 2S6X 

From this it would appear that Oxford made more than 
one attempt to escape from his imprisonment, which he 
ultimately succeeded in doing in I486. Hall says (p. 406): 
" Jhon \ere erle of Oxford (which as you haue heard 
tief<MPe was by king £dward kepte in prison within the 
castell of barames) so persuaded James blonnt oipitayne 
of thesame fortresse, and sir Jhon Fortescewe porter of 
the tonne of Caleys. that he him selfe was not onely dis- 
missed and set at libertie, but they also abandonynge 
and ieauynge their fruitefull offices, condiscended to go 
with him into Fraunce to the Karle of Rychmonde and 
to take his parte." When Richard heard that Blount 
had surrendered the Castle of Hammes (or Hames) he 
sent a force from Calais to recover it; and Richmond sent 
Oxford, who had joined him in Paris, to raise the siege. 
He succeeded in rescuing the besieged, who were allowed 
to depart with all the honours of war. He then returned 
to Paris. He accompanied Richmond to Bosworth, where 
be commanded the vanguard of the Lancastrian army, 
being c^ypoaed to the Duke of Norfolk. He afterwards 
defeated tiie rebels under Lambert Simnel, at Stoke, in 
1487. Henry VII. created him Constable of the Tower. 
He married Margaret Neville, sixth daughter of Richard, 
Earl of Salisbury, by whom he had a son who died young. 
He himself died in 1513; and was succeeded by his nephew, 
John de Vere, as fourteenth earl. Sir Walter Scott has 
iDtroduced the Earl of Oxford, in Anne of Oeierstein, 
under the assumed name of Philipson. 

IT Lord HAsfriNCS. See HI. Henry VI. note 10. Stow 
(dves some very interesting particulars (p. 448) of the 
plot by which Hastings' death was brought about. Rich- 
ard sent Catesby to sound Hastings, and it is said that 
the latter expressed his Arm resolution to remain faithful 
to Uie young princes. Catesby finding that his master 
Richard was likely to have a firm opponent in Hastings, 
Incensed the Protector's mind against hinL The scene 
which took place at the council on Friday, June 13th, 
1483. is very closely followed by Shakespeare in act iii. 
scene 4 of the play. Hastings is one of the principal 
characters in Rowe's Jane Shore. According to Sir Thomas 
More, Hastings had l)een in love with her during the 
time she had been King Edward's mistress, but "forbore 
her of reverence towarde hys king" (Singer's Reprint, 
p. 72). After the king's death she lived with Hastings as 
his mistress. Lord Hastings rebuilt the Castle of Ashby 
de la Zouch, the remains of which still remain. Sir Wal- 
ter Scott mentions this fact at the beginning of chapter 
xiv. in Ivanhoe, and adds that he, Lord Hastings, was 
' yet better known as one of Shakespeare's characters, 
than by his historical fame " (p. 140, edn. 1886X 

18 Lord Stanlet. See II. Henry VI. note 16; IIL 
Henry VL note 23. This character wss Thomas Stanley. 
Kceond Baron Stanley, and succeeded his father in 1458. 
Lord Stanley was Steward of the Household to Edward 
I V. He wax one of those who were very much opposed 
tc» the queen's family. He is said to have been one of 
the first to suspect the designs of Richard, and on the 
lii-jrht l»efore the celebrated meeting of the council men- 

tioned in the last note. Lord Stanley, accordinir to Sir 
Thomas More, had "so fereful a drenie, in wlath him 
though te that a bore with his tuskes so race<i tiiem both 
bi the heddes, that the blood ranne aboute both their 
shoulders" (p. 74). This dream so impressed him that he 
sent at once at midnight to Hastings to make his escape 
with him; as he interpreted the dream t • mean that they 
both were in danger from Richard, whose crest was a 
wild boar. Stanley suffered himself to be persuaded 
against his own presentiment, and was present at the 
council, at which, next day, in the confusion wliich arose 
after the Protector's denunciation of Hastings as n traitor, 
Stanley was arrested at the same time as Hastings: when, 
according to Sir Thomas More (p. 73), " a nother let flee 
at the Lorde Stanley which shronke at the stroke and 
fel under the table, or els ids bed had been clefte to the 
tethe: for as shortely as he shranke, yet ranne the blood 
aboute hys eares;" but he did not share his friend's fate; 
and although he had married for his second wife Margaret 
Beaufort, the Countess of Richmond, mother of Henry 
VII. (see I. Henry VI. note 6), Richard appointed him, 
after his coronation, steward of his houseliold. and after- 
wards Constable of England in 1483. Whether he did 
this from policy, or because he really believed Stanley 
was well affected towards him, we cannot tell. The fact 
is Richard never seems to have made up his mind whether 
he could trust Stanley or not. The latter, who had large 
estates in Cheshire and Lancashire, asked pemiibsion to 
visit them. Richard consented on the condition of bio 
leaving his son George, Lord Strange, as a hostage. It 
would seem that, on reaching his country place, Stanley 
must have made up his mind to Join Richnibnd's party. 
When summoned by Richard to join him with his 
forces, he excused himself upon the ground of illness. 
This enraged the king, and George Stanley, being in fear 
of his life, attempted to escape; but he was captured, and 
confessed that he and his uncle. Sir William Stanley (see 
III. Henr>' VI. note 23), and others were pledged to Rich- 
mond, though his father was ignorant of that fact, and 
was loyal to Richard. After this he was allowed to write 
to his father, to tell him that, if he wished to save his 
son's life, he was to come at once. Two days before the 
battle of Bosworth it was arranged between Richmond 
and the Stanleys that they should keep up an appearance 
of hostility towards Richmond. But on the day of the 
battle, Richard, to his amazement, saw all the forces of 
the Stanleys marshalled against him. He ordered George 
Stanley to be executed at once. In the confusion of the 
battle the son managed to escai>e and join his father. It 
was Lord Stanley who placed the battered crown of 
Richard, found in a hawthorn bush after the battle, on 
Richmond's head: and for this reason the crown in a 
hawthorn bush was adopted as a cognisance by the latter 
when he became king. Lord Stanley married first, Helena 
Neville, sister of the King-maker, by whom he had three 
sons, the eldest of whom was George Stanley already 
mentioned; the second. Sir Edward Stanley, distinguished 
at Flodden, and created Lord Monteagle, 1514, by Henry 
VIII.; the third, James Stanley, became Bishop of Ely, 
1506. By his second wife he had no issue. 

19. Tx)RD LOVKL. This was Francis, L<inl Lord and 


Dramatis Peraonn. 


Dnunatli Fanona. 

HoUaud, son of Juhn, tenth Lord Lovel in tuccession from 
John, son of William Lorel, one of the barons at the 
coronation of King John— of llchmerch, or Tichmarch, 
in the county of Northampton, and Minster Lovel in the 
county of Oxford. Ac. Lorel figures in the well'known 
lampoon, written by William Collinglxmme, which was 
posted on the church door at Ck)llingboume-I>ucis in 
Wiltshire, for publishing which he was executed: 

The Cat, the Rat, and Lovei our Dof, 
Doe rule all Entfland, under the Hog. 
The crooke backt boare the way hath found 
To rout our roses from our ground ; 
Both flower and bud will he confound. 
Till kin; of beasts the same be crown'd : 
And then the dog, the cat, and rat. 
Shall in his troofrh fe«d and bt fat. 

The name Louvel or Lorel (a corruption of the surname 
Lnpellus, a little wolf), was first assumed, in the early 
part of the twelfth century, by William Gouel de Per- 
ceval, second son of Ascelin (called Lupus); and the title. 
Lord Lovel, was first assumed by his grandson John, In 
the reign of Henry III. When twenty -seven years of age 
Lovel accompanied Richard, then Duke of Gloucester, on 
his expedition into Scotland. On 4th January, 148S. he 
was created Viscount Lovel, and was appointed by Rich- 
ard Lord Chamberlain of the household. Chief Butler of 
Kngland, &c. He was present at the battle of Bosworth. 
and took refuge, first at the sanctuary of St. John's in 
Colchester; then he went to Sir Thomas Broughton's in 
Lancashire, where he lay concealed for some months, nnd 
escaped thence into Flanders to Margaret, Duchess of 
Burgundy. He was sent by her, with two thousand sol- 
diers under Martin Schwartz, to support Lambert Simnel, 
the impostor. He joined the Earl of Lincoln, and was 
present at the battle of Stoke. The fate of this nobleman 
was involved in some mystery. Some say that he either 
perished in the battle of Stoke, or soon after the battle; 
but there is a tradition that he succeeded in making his 
escape to his own home, where he took refuge in a secret 
vault. In 1708 a skeleton presumed to be his was found 
there, with remnants of Jars, &c. ; the assumption being 
that he was starved to death. 

"With regard to Minster-Lovell, I had forgot to men- 
tion, that in the History of the House of Yvery, a most 
curious 1>ook, it is said, that there had been a tradition 
that the last Lord Lovell escaped from the battle of Stoke, 
but was never heard of afterwards; and that some years 
ago upon taking down the old manor-house, there was 
discovered a secret vault, wherein there appeared a 
figure richly cloathed. sitting in a chair, which, upon befaag 
exposed to the air, turned to dust, and was supposed to 
have been that unfortunate nobleman, who hiding him- 
self here in his own house, was starved to death, either 
by the perfidy or inability of the person, in whose assis- 
tance he confided" (Topographical Miscellanies (quarto), 
by Sir Kgerton Brydges, vol. I. under OXFORDSHIRE). With 
him the title became extinct till it was revived in the 
person of Jolin Earl of Egmont, 1762. He was married 
to Anne, daughter of Henry Lord FitzHngh, and left no 
issue. All his honours, together with his vast estates, 
were forfcitetj to the crown after the battle of Stoke. 

SO Sir Thomas Vauohan was the son of Sir Roger 


Vaoghan of Tree I'ower, Brecknockshire. Sir Thomas 
Vaoghan was proclaimed a traitor with the Duke of York 
and others by Henry VI., March, 1460. During the brief 
period when that unfortunate mcmarch wm restored to the 
throne by Warwick, 1470, Kdward IV. tent him to invest 
Charles the Bold. Duke of Burgundy, with the Order of 
theOarter. He was a constant and faithfol attendant on 
Kdward V. almost from his intenoy, and the young prince, 
who was very much attached to him. it amid to have wept 
bitteriy when Gloucester arretted Vaoi^uui. Together 
with Lord Richard Grey and Karl Rivers, Vaughan was exe- 
cuted at Ponf ret Castle. (See note 16 above.) Sir Thomas 
Vaughan was married to Cicely, daughter of Moivaa ap 
Philip. One of his daughters married Richard Hariey, 
ancestor of the celebrated Sir Robert Hariey, Eari of 
Oxford ; and another, Elizabeth, married aa her teoond 
husband Sir Kdward Stanley, Lord Monteagle. (See above, 
note 18.) According to Kennet (voL i. p. 40fX when 
Vaughan was going to the block, he would not let bis 
mouth be stopped by Ratcliff, but declared that the 
prophecy, on account of which George Duke of Clarence 
had suffered, would be' fulfilled in the person of Richard 
G., that is the Protector, and loudly declared hit inno- 
cence. He was buried, with his fellow sufferera, in the 
monastery of St John at Pomfret 

21. Sir Richard Ratclipf belonged to a branch of 
the same family to which Sir Robert Ratcliff belonged, 
who was created Earl of Essex in 1529, his father. John 
Lord Fitzwalter. having been executed for Joining Per- 
kin Warbeck. Sir Thomas More describes him as " s 
man that had been long secret with him (i.e. the Pro- 
tector), hauing experience of the world and a shrewde 
wit, short and rude in speche. rough nnd bouttlouse uf 
behauiour, bold in mischief, as far from pitie aa frna 
al fere of god " (p. 87). To Ratcliff was committed the 
charge of carrying out the execution of Rivers and the 
others at Pomfret (See above, note 16.) He shared his 
royal master's fate in his last desperate charge at 6oe> 
worth. Shakespeare has made a mistake in makhic 
Ratcliff present at the celebrated council at which Has- 
tings was arrested, as at that time he was carrying out 
the execution at Pomfret In fact, it seems that to Rat- 
cliff was intrusted the charge of all Richard's interests 
in the north of England. In the Paston Letters is me 
from Richard Duke of Gloucester to Lord Neville, dated 
June nth, 1488 (No. 874). in which he requeeU that be 
"wyllyef credence to . . . RichardeRatclyff,thysbeeiTer. 
whom I nowe do Sende to you. enstmcted with all bj 
mynde and entent " (vol. iii. p. aoox Thit Lord Neville 
was probably the heir to the earidom of Wettmoreland. 

28. Sir William Catksby was the son of Sir Willism 
Catesby of Ashby St. ledger, in the county of Northamp- 
ton, who was three times sheriff in the twenty-fint, 
thirtieth, and thirty-fourth years of the reign of Heniy 
VL, and twice returned in the twenty-seventh and thirtjr- 
first years of that reign as knight of the shire. French 
says (p. 235): "he died in 1470, leaving by hit wife 
Philippa, daughter nnd co-heir of Sir William Biahoptcn. 
Knight, of Bishopton, co. Warwick, a son and heir, wbe 
is the cliaracter in this piny. " Cntcsby himself was sheriff of 
Nortliamptonshire in the eighteenth year of Edward I^« 

Ruliinl 111. appQlntsil him ehuullur of tbSHchtquer 
liir lUe. and alio attoRwr-aiiKnl. ur u Hiiiu iMf •pukvr 
d( th« HaBH of Commnu. in 1*83. Ha DiUTlgct llui*nl. 
ilHCbUT ot Lord Ikmch, hf whom kg had ■ ud, Oeargt. 
wbo KMrrying % daiuhtar of Sir Kickud Kmpvm. Ihu 
wcU-kBOWBDiiiuiMral HanrT VII., obtalnod Uirouglitigr 
inlnwt tlM r«ton4ku ot hli Iitfatr'B lort«JI«l atUtM 
lieorge CBtciW'a widov nuifcil. Mcoodij, Sir Tbomat 
LuL-j of CtiaiiaBoM aid wm gfasdnollwr ot ths lus7 
Htiriicd <j]'S1iakBip«uc;uthatCalnb]'waiiDlwava)a 
caDik«:(od irltb SbajEeipean'i hlator/, aa th* 
the WllUani Catobi of thli pU; came from 
UK and a biU niilea rrom StraUorilOD-Avoti, bait tbe 
UUm of whlFh place Shakeipearo purcluucil !□ IBDB. 
Five ttn«aUoD> aftor tbe 
deiuendant, Sobcrt CatMlif, iru the cUef coniplratoi[ie ------ 


He wtt appointed gov 
it ii laid ttiHt Rjchar 
Joba Qraen, to ti? ui> 
princM: bat Brtkeobi 

>t hli ' 


Nunhaaiptaiullink uj* tbat the data of hli death l> an 
i-ertain lioL II. P- SLO). On bii mouument Id tbt churcl 
ul A>ht9 St Ledger the daU ul hia death ii glTen t' 
dv< betoi* tlw tiattl* of Boe'arth. Tbera 1* little doab 
that be wu taken prleooer at that battle, end vu one e 
the three who ulf end iteMb, three dajo after the IwtUi 
at Leiceater. Cateeby. ai ta veil known, wa> tbotoio 
CuUiiisUmmt'i LuupoOB (iinolvl above, note Id). 

uunler the } 

d by hi 


d tor 


'- Ixilhe DIchloD andtieirerceumined. and conleued the 
niUTther Id muerabaie written," ia. by imotberJng then 
In their bedelp.m). Tyrrel wm beheaded, MayStli. IWE. | 
and bnrled In the church ot Aualln Frlan. Hli family | 
rlalmed deaceat tram Walter Tyrrel, whoia fortunate ' 
arrow got iM »f WUllam Rufua In the New Foreet 

lot Sir Walter a 

nin ILB 



■, baie been made 
L after the battle 1 

a Knight 
iieret bj HaniT VII 
I" (FrMkcb, p. »?> 
U Km Valteb Hrrbebt waa tlie Hcond urn of 
William HertHrt, ■ lUuneh Yorklat, created by Edward 
IV. In ItSl Bamn Herbert, and In IMS Evl ot Pembroke 

e IIL HeniT V 

Earl ol Kicb 

a Ml. It [> eald U 

1. alterwarde B 

le altacbed to ber while U' 

idy Maud, having be- 
n her father'a natle. 

rland, WhenBlch 

lythlug to do 
De. It iiprett/f^ertain, however, thattbouEh 
ImHlf take part In it, be oiuDt have admitted 
ito the Tower, Tyrrel la Hid to ban 
glieu the lieya back tu Brekenlniry on tbe mumlng after 
the murder, and the probability of tbe latter having lODlB 
guilty knowledge of the crime la increaiad by tbe fact 
that he received many valnabla nianon from Richard 
after the crime had been committed (lee Strype'e note 
to Bunk* Blitory; Kennet, vul. L pp. 6M, isa\. 

: of Norwich, He was employed by 
hmond In negotiating tbe nierriHge 
Eliiabeth. Hell eayi (p StK): "In 

on the c 

■wlkc < 

if Richi 

ot hyni for to be h>c 
■ ■ome ahe vltred to liim nil her mynde 
. . . So tbe mother itudioui for] 
winne ■ppolnted thli Chriitopher Vnwtke to ulle Into 
Brllayno to the erle of Rlrheniond end tn derlere and to 
denionsler to him all pactea and agrementes hetwcne ber 
and the quene agned and ron<;luded-" 

n. L0Hi> ilWiis or U'swa. Thle was Sir EdmHOd 
.ihBw, called by Fabyan, "Ednioude Sbaa, goldimylh-" 

luurteenth year of Kdnrd IV.. 

'in tl 


sr who waa in- 

a brand tbe children of Edward IV- aa butardj. 
ebreted eermouwaa preached at St. Fanl't, June 
8S. on the text: "Baitard plants ihal) take no deep 
■r layanyfait loundalion*' (Wisdom of SolomoD. 
Theae brolhen were the sou of John Shaw of 
nnehl in tlie county of CbeaUr. 
iiHirr or Wiltshibe. Thii was Henry Lnni; of 
I in the connty of Wilts. He was aherifT of Wilu 
1170, ItSS: he died, IIM, leaving no issue. 

Slcbard to tamper with Brakenbury. 
■' Wbereuppon be sent oueJohn Grtne. 
trusted, vnt'i sir Robert Brakmbiir; 
tower, with a letter and credice also 
Suberte abonld In any wyaa pat the t< 
Thia John Orena did bla errand nuto B 
before ourtady in the Tow 
he would nauer putte th< 
With which BUiwar lohi 

that the uma all 

:o daatbe to ilye Iherfore. 
-eoe returolug. recounted 
. Warwick yet in bis way. 

But It la much mora probabit 
tun alluded to In the lolluwli 

Dramatis Personw. 


I>nuDatU renoiMB. 


which, after meutioiiing Green's return to Richard at 
Warwick from Brakenbury with the refusal of the latter 
to murder the princes, goes on to say: "that the same 
night he said vnto a secrete page of his: Ah, whome shall a 
man trust: those that I haue broughte vp my selfe, those 
that I had went would most surely seme me, euen those 
fayle me, and at my commaundemente wyll do nothyng 
for me. Sir quod his page, there lyeth one on your 
paylet with out tliat I dare well say, to do your grace 
pleasure the thyng were right harde that he wold refuse, 
meaning this by sir James Tyrel. which was a man of 
ryght goodly parsonage, and for natures gyftes woorthy 
to haue serued a muche better prince, if he had well 
serued Ood, and by grace obtayned to haue as muche 
trouthe and good wil, as he had strength and witte. The 
man had an high harte and sore longed vpwarde. not 
rising yet so fast as he had hoped, being hindered and 
kept vnder by the roeanes of sir Richarde Ratclife and 
air William Catesby, which longing for no moo parteners 
of the Princes fauour, and namely not for him, whose 
pride thei wist woulde beare no pere, kept him by secrete 
driftes out of al secrete trust: whiche thyng this page 
wel had marked and knowen : wherefore this occasion 
offered, of very speciall frendsliip he toke his tyme to put 
him forward, and by such wyse do him good, that al the 
enemies he had (except the deuil) could neuer liaue done 
him so muche hiirte. For vpon this pages wordes, king 
Richard arose (for this communicaciou had he sitting at 
the draught, a conuenient carpet for suche a counsail) and 
came out into the pallet chamber, on which he found 
in bed sir James and sir Thomas Tyrels, of person 
like and brethren of blood, but nothing of Idn in con- 

SI. Tressell and Bkrkklet, two gentlemen attending 
on Lady Anne. The former of these was probably, as 
French suggests (p. 251X one of the Trussel family, an old 
Staffordshire and Northamptonshire family. One, Sir 
William Trussel, was sheriff of the county of Warwick in 
the sixteenth year of Edward IV. He, or his brother 
E<imund Trussel, may be the person intended in this 
play. The latter was probably one of the sons of James, 
sixth Lord Berkeley, who were all Lancastrians. 

38. Elizabeth, Queen ih) Kino Edward IV.— See IIL 
Henry VI. note 31. Miss Strickland says of her, " there 
never was a woman who contrived to make more personal 
enemies. " So opposed was the Duchess of York, mother 
of Edward IV., to the marriage of her son, that, driven 
to desperation, she brought forward the plea of a precon- 
tract with the Lady Elizabeth Lucy (see below, note 408). 
A long account will be found in Hall and Holinahed's 
Chronicles, mostly taken from Sir Thomas More, of the 
argtiments by which this unhappy lady was induced to 
give up the custody first of her sons and then of her 
daughter to their villainous uncle. It is difficult to under- 
stand how Queen Elizabeth could have been induced to 
give up the charge of her eldest daughter and allow her 
to appear at the court of her brother's murderer. But 
great allowance must be made for her on the ground of 
the marvellous talent for hypocrisy and singular powers 
of persuasion which Richard possessed, and also for the 


pressure which was put upon her. After the infamous 
act of parliament passed by Richard, which bastardized 
hia brother's children, the queen wm known as ** Dame 
Elizabeth Orey late calling herself Queen of England." 
She retired to the monastery at Bermondaey, which teems 
to have been a favourite refuge for royal personagea, and 
died there June 8th, 1492. She was buried in 8t George's 
Chapel, Windsor, where, as French aayt (p. 244). "on a 
flat stone, at the foot of her royal huaband'a tomb, is 
inscribed : 

^ing €btoar2» vmJb ^is Qncen tfft^abtt^ iSidbtle." 

SS. Margaret OF A Njou. See I. Henry VL note 27. She 
died, according to French, August 25th, 1481, "in the 
chAteau of Dampierre, near Saumnr, belonging to an old 
officer of King Rent's household, Francois Vignolles, lord 
of Moreans " (p. 245). 

M. Duchess op York. This waa Cicely Neville, eigh- 
teenth daughter of Ralph Neville, Earl of Westmoreland. 
(See II. Henry VI. note 4.) She was known as " The Rose 
of Raby." French says (pp. 245, 246): " She had a throne- 
room in her baronial residence, Fotheringay Castle, 
where she held receptions with the state of a (|ueen. a 
title which she had at one time a reasonable hope to en- 
Joy, as the consort of her princely husband, who had been 
declared heir to Henry VI. This great lady survived all 
her sons, and also outlived all her daughters excepting 
Margaret, Duchess of Burgundy; and though she had not, 
at the time of her son Richard's usurpation, in 1483, ar- 
rived at the age she ascribes to herself in the play,— 

Highty odd years of sorrow have I seen. 

the Duchess of York must have reached an advanced 
period when, twelve years later, she died at Berkhamp- 
stead in 1495; her will, made on the first of April in that 
year, was proved August 27, following. She waa buried st 
Fotheringay beside her husband aiAl their son Edmund." 
There is not the slightest ground for the infamous charge 
which Richard brought against his mother's reputatioik. 
when he declared that he only of all the sons of the Doke 
of York was legitimate. Richard directs Buckingham 
to touch the scandal lightly: 

Yet touch this sparingly, as 'twere far off; 
BecauiM;, my lord, you know my mother lives. 

— iii. S 93. 9*- 

86. Lady Anne is the name given by Shakespeare to 
the unhappy widow of Edward Prince of Wales (see III 
Henry VI. note 2), who afterwards became the wife of 
Richard. Anne Neville was the youngest daughter and. 
co-heir of the King Maker, and was bom at Warwieic 
Castle, June 11th, 1452. French says (p. 246): "She wss 
in her seventeenth year when she visited the court vt 
Louis XI. in company with her father, mother, and Clir 
ence, then married to her sister Isabel; and whilst at the 
court which was held at Angers, the treaty of manltgt 
was contracted between herself and the Prince of Wslei> 
to whom she was united at Amboise, in July or August. 
1470." Richard is said to have been, early in his life, at- 
tached to Lady Anne. It was said that she di^d of con- 
sumption, which was aggravated by grief at the lossof h«f 
son, and there seems to be no reason lor attributing ^ 

Dmoatiit Ptemoam. 


ACT I. Scene 1. 

Richard III. tlie additional crime of having hastened her 
death. There is no doabt that he was ready to console 
himself as soon as poMible for that sad event, which took 
place March 16tb, 1485. 

as. You NO DAUGHTKROP Clabenct. This was Margaret, 
bom August I4tb, 1478. Eventoally she became sole heir 
of her grandfather, Richard Neville, the King Malcer. In 
1513 she was created Countess of Salisbury. She married 
Sir Eichard Pote, chamberlain to Prince Arthur, sou of 
Henry VII., by whom she had four sons and one daughter, 
llie youngest of these sons, Reginald, was the famous 
Cardinal Pole, Archbishop of Canterbury in the reign of 
Queen ^lary. One daughter. Ursula, married Henry 
Lord .StalTord, son of the Duke of Buckingham in Henry 
VIII. Margaret, Countess of Salisbury, came to an un- 
timely end. She was one of the many victims of the par- 
tiality of Henry VIII. for executions, and was beheaded 
on Tower Hill, May 27th, 1541, when she was nearly sixty - 
<-i)(ht years old. 

ACT I. Scene 1. 

17. — The events of the first act belong historically to very 
vsrious perioda In the first scene we see Clarence being 
led to imprisonment This happened late in 1477. The 
physicians, we hear, are much perturbed about E<i ward's 
health; a matter appertaining to the year 1483. But 
from Gloster's opening speech we must understand that 
these events happened not long after the death uf Henry 
and Prince Bdward. and the other events represented in 
HI. Henry VI. act v. Following this indication we find, 
lu the second scene, that Henry's body has not yet been 
removed from St. Paul's to its last resting-place at Chert- 
sey: hardly three months, Gloster says, have passed since 
the battle at Tewkesbury; many men of low birth have 
lately been ennobled (sc. 3, lines 81-83): some, we may 
"uppoee, being men advanced for service against Warwick 
and the Lancastrians. These marks of time will account 
also for Queen Margaret's appearance in scene 8. The 
sentence of banishment against her is to be taken as of 
very recent date, and rather than obey it. as she herself 
Aa>i (lines 160, 170), she has preferred to brave death and 
remain in England. That she should make her way into 
the palace and interfere in a discussion as she does is 
indeed very unlikely; but there is a much greater im- 
probability, apart from the historical impropriety, if w^ 
ve to sni^KMe, as has commonly been done, that Mar- 
saret has returned into England from banishment, for 
no parpnae whatever that can be conceived, and has by 
lorae manrellons means been able to get to London, and 
And her way into the palace, without hindrance. 

38 Lineal. 2: 

Sow i§ tk4 uinier qfour duemtUnt 
Made glorious tummer hy this SUN of Vork. 
The allusion to Edward's badge, the rose en eoleil, or the 
half-faeed eun, has occurred before. See II. Henry VI. 
itote 238, and III. Henry VI. note 114. These two lines 
«re quoted by Phllomasoa, when asked by Burbage to 
«ct a little of Richard III. in The Return from Parnassus, 
iv 3 (RepHnt, p. 141). 

80 Line 5: Snw are our broiee bound tinth tietorioue 

wrkaths.- Compare ill. 2. 40; iv. 4. 333 infra; and III. 
Henry VI. ii. 3. 52, 53, and v. 3. 2. The laurel cruwn or 
wreath qf victory seems to have been a favourite ini;ige. 
borrowed no doubt from the classic poets, or their imi- 
tatiirs. At Rome the corona triumphalie, made of laurel, 
was worn by a victiirious general in his triumph: cf. 
Coriolanus, i. 9. 5i>-dU; Julius Cnsar, v. 3. 82; Lucrece. 
108. 109. 

40. Lines 7-13 : 

Our ttem alarumt chang'd to merry meeting*. 
Our dreadful marchee to delightful meaeuret. 
Orim-vieag'd war hath tmooth'd hie wrinkled front; 
And now— instead qf mounting barlred steed*. 
To fright the eoul* of fearful adoerearicg— 
He caper* nimbly in a lady's chamber 
To the laseiviou* pleating of a lute. 

Reed compares Lyly, Canipaspe, ii. 2 : 

Is the warlike sound of drum and trump turned to the soft noise 
of lyre and lutef the neiKhing of barbed steeds, whose lowdnes 
filled the air with terrour. and whose breathes dimmed the sun with 
smoake, converted to delicate tunes and amorous glarces? 

— Works, vol. i. p. no. 

Steeveits nuticed that in the e<lition of The Mirror fur 
Magistrates of 1610, when that work was " newly en- 
larged with a last part called a Winter Night's Vision," 
the present passage, with others in this play, was imi- 
tated in The Trajicall Life and Death of Richard III., 
a legend substituted by Niccols for Segar's Tragedy of 
King Richard which appeared in the previous editiona 
Xiccols's part is thought to have been written as early 
as 1603. For another reference to these lines, in a poem 
attributed to Marlowe, see Introduction, p. 477. 

41. Line 17: a uanton ambling nymph.— Compare the 
description of Richard II. in 1. Henry IV. iii. 2 (M): 

The skipping king, he antbitd up and down. 

Romeo and Juliet, i. 4. 11: "I am not for this ainhliwj." 
Baret says (Alvearie, sub tfoee): "An awhUng horte - 
rul^fMf. qui molli gradu & sine succu^sura gestat " 
The word means " going smoothly. " {Sine *uecu**ura - 
without jolting.) 

4S. Line 19: Cheated qffeatureby DIS8KMHLIN0 nature. 
—DiM*eiiMimj means here almost the same as "false. " 
Nature, Richard complains, was treacherous and unfair 
to him. Warburton said ( Var. Ed. vol xix. pp. 9, 10): " By 
diseembUng is not meant hypocritical nature, that pre- 
tends one thing and does another; but nature that putK 
together things of a dissimilar kind, as a brave soul and 
a deformed l)ody." Douce, p. 332, thinks the-meaning is 
that "nature had made for Richard features uiUikc those 
of other men. To dissemble." he says, "signifies the 
reverse of to resemble, in its active sense." Singer inter- 
preU the word by "disfiguring," "distorting." But there 
is no satisfactory evidence that resemble ever had this 
transitive meaning of " make like,*' which Douce assumes. 
Malone Instanced the following passage' from Tlie Trouble- 
some Raigne of King John: 

Can Nature so Jtssemhle in her frame. 

To make the one so like as like may be. 

And in the other print no character 

To challenge any marke of true descent ? 

— Hazlitt, Shakespeare's library, pt. a, vol. i. p. 235 


ACT I. Soene 1. 


ACT I. 80MM 1. 

I believe the meaning here to be merely " act deceit- 
ful ly" or" rairieadingly." " Cloke, "•• f aloe," are the mean- 
ings which Baret gives: (Alvearie. tub vom). Sometimes 
we find the word signifying "give or exhibit a false ap- 
pearance," as in the following passage, where Singer 
tliinks the sense to be "distort:" 

What wicked ami diuemkiiMi f^Xsksa ot mine 
Made me compare with Herniid's iphery eyne? 

—A Midsummer Nij^ht's Dream, ii. a. 98, 99. 

43. Line 22: go lamely Mtd UMPASUIOMABLE.— The col- 
lucation of adverb with adjective is not uncommon. 
Conipaie ill 4. 50, Wra, and Richard IL note 58. 

44. Line 24: thi$ weak PIPING time qf peace.— The war 
is done, says Richard, and there is no place for me in 
this peaceful time of weakness and piping; i.e. among 
feeble, shrill-voiced women or old men. Otherwise, there 
may be a contrast intended between the pipe and tabor, 
which were signs of peace, and the drum and fife, which 
symbolized war. Compare Much Ado, ii. 8. 13-15. 

46. Line 26: UnUtt to SPY my shadow in the »un.~ 
This is the reading of Qq. ¥f. have nee. wliich seems a 

46. Line 32: Plots have I laid. IM>UCTI0NS dangerous. 
— Marston has " conveyed" this line in the Fawne, ii. 1: 

Plots ha you laid? Inductions, daunt^erous? 

—Works, ii. 3a. 

Shakespeare's authority for the statement in this and the 
following lines is Hall, who got it from Polydore Virgil. 
See note 4, where the passage is quoted. An allusion to 
this has already occurred in III. Henry VI. v. 6. 86. The 
story is given In The Mirror for Magistrates (vol. iL 232), 
in the Legend of Clarence, stanzas 24 to 50. Baldwin, who 
wrote tliat legend, doubtless, took the story from Hall. 
Induction^ which seems to mean here "the ground" or 
"framework" of a plot, is used again in this play (iv. 4. 
5) in much the same sense, where Margaret says: 

A dire induct i^tt am I witness to. 

47. Lines 49, 50 : 

0, belike his majesty hath some intent 

That you shall be newehristen'd in the Tofwer. 

F(>I»e omitted 0,— which is extra metrum.—in line 49. 
But this makes the transition of thought from line 48 
somewhat too abrupt. In line 50 shall is the reading of 
Q«I. Ff. have should, which, however, has occurred in 
line 48 

48. Lines 62-54 : 

Yea^ Richard, when I know; FOR J protest 

As yet I do not: but, as I can learn. 

He hearkens after prophecies and dreams. 

¥i. read but instead of for in line 62, wrongly. Perhaps 
it was introduced from the next line by mlsUke 

49. Line 55: croM-rour.— This name for the alphabet is 
an abbreviation of Chtist cross row, which in the form 
criss cross row is yet preserved in nursery rhymea One 
of tlie first lessons taught to a child at school was the 
prayer " Christ cross me speed in all my work!" which is 
found in a school leeson contained in Bodl. MS. Rawlinson 
1082 (referred to by Halliwell). The sentence is coupled 


with the alphabet, which no doubt would be the neit 
thing learnt, in the following title of a poem: "Crysir 
Crosse me spede. A. B. C," which was printed by 
Wynkyn de Worde. The prayer and the alphabet seem 
to have been said together. I have been told that in 
dame-sdioob in the North of England it used, not long 
ago, to be a custom for children to say their letters thus: 
" Christes cross be my speed! A. B, C," Ac. Either be- 
cause of this connection, or, possibly, becaoae the alphabet 
(as some say) was preceded in old primers by a cross, the 
name cross row or Christ's eross row came to denote the 
alphabet. Skelton, Ajpcfnst Venemous Tongues, says: 

For before oa your brest, and behind on your back 

In Romaine letters I never founde lack ; 

In your crasse rew nor Christ crosse you spede. 

—Works, ed. Djrce. I. 133. 

Cotgrave has: "La croix de par Dieu. The Chrittt- 
crosse-row; or, the hurnelK>oke wherein a child leametit" 
And "Abed. An Abece, the Crosse-row, an alphabet, or 
orderly list, of all the letters." Compare Hey wood's epi- 
gram Of the letter H : 

I], is wurst among letters in the crcsse raw. 

60. Line 66: That tampers him to this extremity.— This, 
the reading of Q. 1, has been generally accepted as right 
The other Quartos, by the conmion misprint of t tor r. 
have tempts or temps for tempers, and tills appears to 
liuve been the source of the line as it is found in Ff. : 

That teu^its him to tliis harsh Extremity. 

61. Line 67: Antony WoodvUe.—Qq. here read Antkomf 
Wooduile; ¥. 1 has Woodeulle, which may have been 
meant to indicate that the word should be made a tri- 
syllable in pronunciation, as Cupell suggested. This is 
the only passage where the word occurs in the play, ex- 
cepting in Ff., in the dubious line ii. i. 68. (See note 224 > 

68. Line 68: That made him send Lord Hastings to the 
Tower.— I have been unable to And any authority for thit 
statement, which seems based on some ndsconoeptioo; 
perhaps, as suggested in the Clar. Press edn.. of the ptu 
sage of More quoted infra, note 344. 

68. Line 71 : By heaven, I thirdt there 's no man is seenrt 
-Q. 1, Q. 2. Q. 8 read: 

By heauen I thinke there is no man is securde. 

The others omit is after man. Ft. read : 

I By heauen, I thinke there is no man secure. 

This looks rather like an attempted emendation of tbe 
line in Qq., which we have retained, following CapeU. for 
the text, with his slight alterations of there's for tkers it, 
and secure for ucurde. 

61 Line 75: Lord Hastings teas to her for his delisery 
—Thus Q(( F. 1 has 

Lord Haktini^ was, for her deliucry. 

The other Folios have his instead of her. 

66. Line 81 : The jealous o'erwom widow —O'erwort - 
worn out; coroparo Venus and Adonis, 1S6, Sonnet 6S, I ^ 
Elizabeth Woodvile was bom in 1437, so that even if ^ 
take 1477 as the date of the present act, her age would 
be no more than forty. But Richard is sneering st tbc 
fact that she had been married before the became tA- 

ACT I. SoeiM 1. 


ACT 1. Soeue 2. 

ward's wife. Compare iil. 7. 185, 186 ii\fra^ and the note 

S6l line 83: J re mighty gompg in this numarchy.— 
Vt. read our. l*he text ia from Qq. 

87. Line 84: Bbsxbch your grace$ both to ^pardon ine.— 
Thb ia Dyce's c<»Tection. Qq. and Ft. hare / be»eeeh. 

51 line 87: ufith HIS 6rolAer.— We have retained the 
reading of Qq. Ff . give your. 

M. line 92: WeU ttruck in yean, /air, and notjealout. 
— Veart and fair are each pronounced at diiayllablea 
The expreeaion "well struck in years" appears to have 
been strange to Steevens. It occurs, however, in Tam- 
ing of the Shrew, iL 1. 302; and " stricken in years" is a 
common enough expression; Cotgrave, tub voce Aage 
(quoted in Clar. Pr. ed.) has "avoir de Vaage ... to be 
well in yeares. or ttvll ttrieken in yeare*." We find it also 
in the Authorized Version of the Bible; compare, for in- 
stance, 1 Kings L 1. 

•0. line M: A cherry Up, a bonny eye, a pauing pleas- 
ing tongue.— li is most likely that the author did not in- 
tend to keep in both phrases, a cherry lip, a bonny eye. 
Though we have not altered the text, it would be perhaps 
better, with Pope, to omit the latter phrase. 

6L line 05: Attd that the queen's KIN are madegentle- 
/oUv.— Qq. Ff. have kindred, which makes a very awkward 
line. Rowe amended it by omitting and, and Steeveus 
by omitting that. But the simple emendation we have 
adopted seems preferable. It is very probable that kin- 
dred may have been written by an oversight Compare 
below, ilL 7. 212: 

Which we hsTC noted in you to your kindred; 

where Qq. read kin and Ff. kindred. For the use of Ann, 
in this sense, in Shakespeare, compare King John, 1. 1. 273: 
" I will show thee to my kin;" and Richard II. iv. 1. 141: 

Shall Jtin with kin and kind with kind confound. 

tt. line VI: nought to do.— See Midsummer Night's 
Dream, note 243. 

63. Line 103: Bksxech your grace.— Thi% is Dyce's cor- 
rection. Q<i. read / beseech (as they do also in line 84 
above): Ft have / do beseech, 

M. line 106: We know thy charge, Brakxnburt, and 
viil o6ry.— This line gives colour to the suggestion that 
•iriginally a keeper had assigned to him some, if not all, of 
Brakenbnry's speechea. Keeper, if substituted here for 
Brakenbury, would make the line rhythmical. At present 
it is incurably inharmonious. 

tt. Line 124: WeU are you welcome to THE open air.— 
This is the reading of Q. 1, Q. 2. Ff. have this, foUovring 
the other Quartos. 

66. UneslSS. 138: 

More pity that the EAOLB should be mew'd, 
While kites cMd buxxards prist at liberty. 

These lines are given from Qq. Ff. read eagles, whiles, 

91. Lines 135-140.— Hall, tub anno 1488, says, " whether 
it was with the roelencoly, and anger that he toke with 

the Frenche king, for his vntruthe and vnkyndnes, or 
were it by any superfluous surfet (to the whiche he wa» 
muche geuen) he sodainly fell sicke, and was with a 
greuous maledy taken" (pp. 838, 339). More says that 
Richard " forethought to be king in case that the king 
his brother (whose life hee looked that euil dyete shoulde 
shorten) should happe to decease . . while his children 
wer yonge" (p. 10). 

68. Line 138: Now, by Saint Paul.— Ft have S.John, 
but, in common with most editors, we have adopted the 
reading of Qq. Oloster's favourite oath appears to have 
been by Saint Paul. 

68. Line 153: Warwick's youngest daughter.— Anne is 
here rightly described: but in III. Henry VI. iii. 3. 242, 
Ac., she is always referred to as the elder of Warwick's 

ACrr I. Scene 2. 

70.— This scene represents Anne as present in London 
at the funeral of King Henry; a thing which, historically, 
would be impossible, for Queen Margaret carried her 
away with her from the battle of Tewksbnry, and, after 
that, Clarence kept her in concealment till 1473, when 
Richard discovered her in London, disguised, and con- 
veyed her to St. Martin's le Grand, to sanctuary. Holin- 
shed, who copies Hall, gives the following account of the 
funeral. "The dead corps on the Ascension euen was 
conueied with billes and glaues porapouslie (if you will 
call that a f unerall ponipe) from the Tower to the church 
of saint Paule, and there laid on a beire or cofFen bare 
faced, the same in presence of the beholders did bl^d; 
where it rested the space of one whole dale. From thense 
he wascaried to the Blackfriers. and bled there likewise: 
and on the next daie after, it was conueied in a boat, 
without priest or clerke, torch or taper, singing or saieng, 
vnto the monasterie of Cherteseie. distant from London 
flft^ene miles, and there was it flrst buried: but after, it 
was remooued to Windesrir" (iii. p. 324X Hollnshed's 
authority for the incident of the corpse bleeding was 
Warkworth's Chronicle. Hall omits it, as did the Croy- 
land Clironlcle, Fabyan, and Polydore Virgil. It was com- 
monly believed that a murdered person's body would 
bleed at the touch of the murderer. Staunton quotes^ 
from the Demonologie by King James VI. (afterwards- 
James I. of England), a passage in which his majesty 
treats the matter as an undoubted fact. He also refer* 
to a case in the fourth year of Charles I., where the clergy- 
man of a parish in Hertfordshire deposed to a corpse 
having sweated and opened its eyes and shed blood from 
its Angers, (m being touched by a suspected person. An- 
other case, cited by Grey (Xotes on Shakespeare, voL ii. 
pp. 54, 55), is also referred to by Sir Walter Scott in The 
Fair Maid of Perth, note u (chap, xxiii.). The case is that 
of Philip Stansfleld. who. in 1688, was accused before the 
High Court of Justiciary in Edinburgh of the murder of 
his father. The indictment against him stated that the 
body bled when Stansfleld raised up the shoulder to lift 
it up to the coffin; and, though rejected by Stansfleld's 
counsel as a superstitious observation, the occurrence 
was insisted on as a link in the evidence, and commented 

97 60 

ACT I. Scene 2. 


ACT I. .Scentt 2. 

on as such by the king's counsel in chaining the Jury. 
Scott makes use of the belief in the course of his story. 

Ff. make a second scene at this place, otherwise wo 
might have supposed that the second scene was only a con- 
tinuation of the foregoing; for the locality (which is not 
designated in the old editions) is, evidenUy, still in some 

71. Lines 19, 20: 

Thati I can tei^ to addsrs. wpiderit, toads^ 
Or any creeping venom'd thing that livee! 

The supposed poisonous qualities of spiders and toads 
are frequently alluded to. See Richard II. note S02; and 
concerning the adder, note 203 of same play. In line 19 
we have adopted the reading of Qq. ; Ff. have 

Than I can irish to lyotues, to Spiders, Toades. 

a reading which suggests that an alteration had been in- 
tended, but left incomplete. 

72. Line 25: And thdt be heir to hU wihappinesnI—Qq. 
omit this line. 

78. Lines 27. 28 : 

More miserable by the death nf him 

Than I am made by my young lord and thee! 

These words are quoted by Anne, with alterations, in 
iv. 1. 76, 77, where she uses the word l\fe, instead of 
death which occurs here. The reason for the variety 
is obvious. In both places Qq. read A» miserable and 
Am I am made. We have retained the reading of Ff. 

74 Line 29.—Chertsey is in Surrey near the Thames, 
not far below Staines. There was a very ancient abbey 
there, having a mitred abbot with a seat in the House 
of Lords. The convent buildings have long since been 
demolished, and only a very few fragments are now re- 

76. Line SI: And ttill. as you are toeary of the loeight. 
—The is tlie reading of Qq.; ¥i. have this. 

78. Line 39: stand thou.— So Qq; Ff. read stand'st thou. 

77. Line 42 : And SPURN upon thee, beggar.—" Else- 
where in Shakespeare." the Clarendon Press editor ob- 
serves. " spurn is followed by at or against," as indeed it 
appears generally to l)e in other writers. The following 
instance of the use of ^ntm on is given in that edition 
from Qower, Confessio Amantis. book iv. : 

So that within a while I gcac 

She had 4»i suche a chaunce sfifrned 

That ail her mod was overtomed. 

— Worlcs, vol. ii. p. 44. 

78. Line 00: Thy DEED, it\human and unnatural.— So 
Q(l. ; Ff. have deeds, 

79. Line 70: Villain, thou Imow'st No law qf Ood nor 
Man.—¥t. have nor for mo. We have followed Qq. 

80. Line 76: 0/ these supposed GRIMES.— Many editors 
adopt the reading of Qq., which have eviln instead of 
critnes. But surely crimes is the more appropriate word 
in Gloster's mouth to describe the heinous deeds (line &3) 
which Anne has just been laying to his charge, and of 
which he now seeks to acquit himself. Grant White ob- 
serves that the opposition is between known evils and 

supposed crimes; "and the evils which Anne actually 
suffered, and for which she claims the right to curse, 
were the direct consequence of crimes which Richard 
calls supposed." And further, if we retain the reading of 
Qq. we exchange a rhythmical for an unrhythmical line. 
It may be that the word eoils was introduced here by 
some careless transcriber, whose eye waa caught by it in 
line 79. 

81. Line 78: DEFUS'D infection qfA. man.—¥. 1 omits a. 
Anne calls Richard, if we are to take her words literally, 
"a wide-spread pestilence," x.e. a plague to his kind, 
whose powers for evil are not confined within a limited 
space, but are spread far abroad. But as Anne's words 
are, both here and elsewhere, antithetic to those of Rich- 
ard, who has just addressed her as " divine perfection of 
a woman," many commentators follow Johnson, who be- 
lieved that here defusd meant "irregular,** "uncouth." 
It is true that this word, whose original meaning is 
" scattered," " disordered," frequently is used to describe 
anything— especially dress— which is irregular, wild, or 
uncouth. Thus in Henry V. v. 2. 61. 62 : 

d^us'd attire 
And e v e r y th ing that seems unnatural. 

And as that which is diffused thereby in many cases be* 
comes vague and indistinct, we find the word often witk 
the meaning " shapeless," a sense which the Clarendon 
Press editor and Schmidt would give It in the present 
instance. Compare the following passage which Dycc 
(Glossary, sub voce) quotes from Greene's Farewell to 
Folly, 1591: "He that niarketh our follies in being pass- 
ing humorous for the choise of apparell, shall find Onids 
confused chaos to affoorde a multitude of defused inues- 
tlons" (Works— Hutli Library Reprint— vol. ijc. p. 2S1> 
'i'he only other instance of the word, in such a sense, in 
Shakespeare is in King Lear, i. iv. 1, 2 : 

If but as well I other accents borrow 

That can ray speech diffusf. 

Here the word means " make indistinct." " confused," or 
" strange." Cotgrave, it may be remarked, explains iAse^f 
by " diffused, hard to understand." 

88. Lines 70, 80: 

For these knoini crils. but to give me leare. 
By circumstance, to CURSE thy ettrsed self 

Qq. read For in line 70; Ff. of Mr. Speddhig's Sig- 
gestion is that perhaps airse was intended to have bees 
changed into accuse. " In some respects," he says^ "it 
flts the place l)etter. 'Accuse' luiswers better to 'acquit' 
in the speech l»efore, and 'excuse' in those after" (>'e« 
Shak. Soc. Tranwictluns, 1875. p. 6). 

88. Line 86: by deftpairimj, hhouLDST thou stand o 
cus'd.—¥i. have shalt; the text is from Qq. 

81 Line 89: Why, then, they are not dead.— do Qii; ^ 


Then say they were not slain. 

86. Line 92: »lain by Etlirard's hamt. This is the rwl- 
iug of Q<i. ; Ff. have hands. 

86. Line 100: That never dreamt on aught but butekerki 
—This is from Qq. ; Ff . read dream'st. 

ACT I. Soene 1 


ACT! I. Soene 2. 

87. Line 101 : 

DidH thou noiHUthiB kingf 

Glo. I DIB, / srrant yt. 

We are responsible for the addition of the words / did. 

FL rMd: 

DkTst tlMMi noc kiD this kingt 

Ritk. I graunt ye. 
Bnt with this reading the line is imperfect, and Oloster's 
answer lacks point No dramatic effect is gained by a 
pause after Anne's words, but rather the contrary. Rit- 
son proposed / grant ye, yea; but this is unsatisfactory. 
We might suppose that the line was originally *' I graunt 
ye y*," and that first the transcriber, or printer, inserted 
yp instead of y* (i.e. that), and then the word being 
thought to be c useless repetition was omitted. 

88. Line 105: The better for the King qf heaven, that 
hath JUm.— This is the reading of Ff. Qq. have ^Ur, 
which many editors adopt But better gives more point 
to Gloster's half-liidden sneer. 

88. Line 120: Thmt wast the cause, and most aeeure'd 
KFKETT.— The meaning is, " It was thou who both caused 
this to be done and put it into effect" Efeet has the 
unnatural meaning of "effecter," "doer," "agent;" the 
action being put for the agent somewhat as in expressions 
like " 111 be the death of him." The word effect is used 
because of its occurrence in the next line, in order to 
make a sort of antithesis between the two speeches. 
There is a straining after antithetic effect throughout the 

80. Line 128: These nails should RBXT.— Shakespeare 
uaes this form of the rerb in fire other places; e.g. in 
Mids. Xight's Dream, iii 2. 215: 

And wfll you reni our ancient lore asunder? 

91. Line 156: >'u, when my father York and Edward 
tpept—Dyce follows Pope in giving Not. We have re- 
tained the reading of Ff. Lines 15&-158 are answered by 
lines 16^164, and hence Xo is the more suitable reading; 
lines l<IO-163are practically an addition, and cannot be 
omsidered necessarily to require that line 156 should 
l>egin with not. In Qq. lines 155-166 do not appear, hav- 
ing probably been struck out of the MS. from which Q. 1 
was printed. Delins observes that when this play had 
become more popular thsn the preceding plays of Henry 
\X the references to those plays might well be left out, 
while they were very unlikely to be added. 

9t. line 168: My tongue emdd never learn sweet smooth- 
ing woBDS.— This is the reading of Qq.; Ff. have word. 

93. Line 183: Take tip the sword again, or take up me. — 
This line is perhaps burlesqued in the following passage 
from The First Part of Jeronimo: 

Take up thy pea. or 1 11 take up thee. 

— Oodsley. iv. 368. 

The expreasioa teUics up was often used quibblingly. 

91 Unea 200-204: 

Anne. All tnen. I hope, live so. 

(tlo. Vouekse^fe to wear this ring. 

Anne. To take, is not to give. [She puts on the ring. 

Glo. Look, how THIS ring eneompasssth thy finger. 
Even so thy hrsast endoteth mypoerhsart 

F. 1 prints this passage as follows, omitting line 202 alto- 

jIn. All men I hope tiue so. 

Vouchsafe to weare this Ring. 
IticM. Looke how my Ring^ incompasseth thy finger. 
Euen so thy Brest indoseth my poore heart. 

The correct text is given by Qq. Mr. Spedding remarks 
that we have here " an ordinary accident of the press. Tlie 
printer had missed out the whole of Anne's last half-line 
speech. The reader (or whoever in those days was charged 
with correcting the first proof), finding Richard's name 
prefixed to two successive speeches " (viz. lines 201 and 
203 of our text) " struck out one of them, and (as it hap- 
pened) he struclc out the first " And, as he goes on to say, 
" the state of the type bears traces of what occurred, 
for the woi-d Vouchs<^fe does not range with the other 
lines" (New Shak. Soc. Transactions, 1875. p. 7). 

In line 203 we follow the reading of Q<i. F. 1, as will 
be seen, reads my instead of this; a reading which was 
emended in F. 2 to thy. 

96. Line 212: Crosby Place.— We learn from More that 
" Crosbies place in Bishops gates strete " was " wher the 
protectour kept his household" (p. 66). It was built by 
Sir John Crosby, grocer and woolman, on the site of cer- 
tain buildings leased to him by the prioress of St Helens 
in Bishopsgate in the year 1466. "This house he built 
of stone and timber, very large and beautiful, and the 
highest at that time in London " (Stow,* Survey, p. 181). 
After his death in 1475 Ricliard bought the house of his 
widow. It has been the dwelling of many persons of 
note; amongst others, of the Countess of Pembroke, Sir 
Philip Sidney's sister, and of Sir Thomas More. Only one 
gable of the old frontage to Bishopsgate Street now exists, 
but the banqueting-hall remains, or, at any rate, a great 
part of it For a long time Crosby House was a place of 
worship for various dissenting bodies, when it was de- 
formed by hideous galleries. Afterwards it was the ware- 
house of Messrs. Holmes and Hall, a firm of packers who 
seem from Steevens' description (Var. Ed. vol. xvill. p. 30) 
to have been of some note in their day. In 1831 the exer- 
tions of some private persons saved the site from being 
let on building leases, and, after being for some time occu- 
pied as a literary and scientific institute, it has since 
1860 been a restaurant under the name of Crosby Hall. 

96. Line 225: 

Glo. Sirs, take up the corse. 

Gent Towards Chertsey, noble lord/ 

¥1. omit Gloster's speech. 

97. Line 226: irAt7«-Friar«.— The house of the Carmelite 
or White Friars stood on the south side of Fleet Street, 
between the Temple and Salisbury Court. Sir Richard 
Grey founded it in 1241, Edward I. giving the site to the 
prior and brethren of the order, which was dedicated to 
the Blessed Mary of Mount Carmel. The Camielite.s 
were commonly designated White Friars, from the white 
cloak and scapular which they wore over their brown 
habit They possessed, it is said, the best library in the 
city. Many men of note were buried within their priory. 
After Henry VIII. dissolved the convent the locality still 
retained its privilegesof sanctuary, such as freedom from 

ACT I. 8oene 2. 


ACT I. Soen« 3. 

mrest. It became a notorious nett of thievea, bullies, 
and other lawless folk. Many allusions to it, under its 
nickname of Alsatia, occur in the later EUxabethan and 
Jacobean literature. Much of the action of Scott's For- 
tunes of Nigel passes within this precinct We learn 
from Prynne. Epistle Dedicatorie to Histriomastix, that 
shortly before 1633 a new theatre had been built at White- 
friars. Its name survives as that of a street. Holinshed 
says that the body was taken from Si Paul's "to the 
Blackfriers" (see note 70X and possibly this passage may 
have been in Shakespeare's recollection. If so, the alter- 
ation to Whitefriars was doubtless accidental 

98. Unes227. 228: 

Wat ever woman in this humour woo'd! 
Was ever tpoman in thit humour wont 

With these lines we may compare Titus Andronicus, ii. 
1. 82, 83, an«l I. Henry VI v. 3. 77, 7a 

Fleay thinks (Shakspere Manual. 20, 21) that the wooing 
of Estrild, in Locrine, iv. i (a.d. 1605) is imitated from 
this scene. Objections have often been made to this re- 
presentation of Richard's wooing of Anne. But the scene 
is not the only one of the kind. Rotrbu in his Wenceslas, 
1637, depicts the impunity and triumph of " one of the 
worst characters that was ever drawn." In that play the 
curtain drops on " the vanishing reluctance of the heroine 
to accept the hand of a monster whom she hated, and 
who had Just murdered her lover in the person of his own 
brother" (Hallam. Literature of Europe, pt. UL ch. vi. 
sect 2, f 31). There is a somewhat similar scene at the end 
of Beaumont and Fletcher's Bloody Brother. Comellle, 
too, in the (Id, thought it not inconsistent with propriety 
that Chira^ne should marry Rodrigue after he had Idlled 
her father. 

W. Line 233: The bleeding witnett qf HER hatred by.— 
This is the reading of Qii. : Ff . have my. 

100. Line 243: Young, vcUiant, wi»e, and, no doubt, right 
ROTAL.— Johnson thought we should read loyal instead 
of royal; but. as Steevens pointed out, there is an ironical 
allusion to the alleged illegitimacy of Henry's son Ed- 

101. Line 249: On me, that HALT, and am misthqpeti 
thusf—IIalt is the reading of Q<i. Ff. have halts. 


108. Line 6: Aiul cheer his grace with quick and merry 
W(>RI>M. —This is the reading of Qq. ¥t. have eyes. 

108. Line 6: If he were dead, what irouM betide OF mef 
— F. 1 prints this line twice over, flrst at the bottom of 
p. 176. and then at the top of p. 177. 0/is the reading of 
Qq. ; ¥t. have on. 

101 Lines 11, 12: 

Ah, he is young; and his minority 

Is put unto the trust qf Richard Glosttr. 

It waft nt the council assembled after Edward V. entered 
London that Richard was made protector; but he had 
been chonen for the office, directly the question of a 
protectorate was mooted, by all the lords who were not 
of the queen's party. Polydore Virgil says that Edward 


in his vrill committed his sons to Richard's keeping. At 
the time of Edward's death Richard was not in London, 
but in Yorkshire, returning from the war against the 

106. Line 17: Enter . . . Stanlkt.— Throughont the 
flrst and second acts Qq. and Ff . call this individual Lord 
Dsrby, but in the last three acts— excepting in the stage- 
directions, which generally call him Derby— \m is always 
Stanley. As is well known, Stanley was not created Lord 
Derby until after the battle of Bosworth. Shakeqware 
seems to have become aware in the course of the pl«y 
that the proper designation was Stanley, but he did 
not trouble to correct the places where he bad written 
Derby in acts i. and ii. But it is too great a breach of 
dramatic propriety that a character who has been in- 
troduced as Lord Derby should suddenly, and tor no 
apparent reason, begin to be addressed as Lord SU^nley. 
It is of course out of the question to rewrite the lines 
where the misnomer occurs. All we can do is to follow 
Theobald and turn Derby wherever it occurs into Stanley. 
'lliis obliges us, indeed, in line 17, to say " the lord of 
Stanley, which is an incorrect expression, since "Stan- 
ley" is not a territorial title; but no other course seems 

106. Line 20: The Countess Iiiehmotid.—Thi% was Stan- 
ley's second wife, the Lady Margaret Beaufort, whoie 
name is preserved as the foundress of professorships of 
divinity at Oxford and Cambridge. She was the 00I7 
daughter of John Beaufort, third Earl of Somerset (we 
I. Henry VI. note 6). She married (1) Edmund, Eari of 
Richmond; (2) Sir Henry Stafford, second son of Hoid- 
phrey Stafford, Duke of Buckingham (see II. Henry VI 
note 8); and (3) Thomas Stanley, afterwards Eari of 
Derby (see above, note 18). 

107. Line 30.— We have followed Qq. in assigning thit 
line to Rivers. Ff. give it to the queen. 

108. Line 39: sent to warn them to his royal p^senee.- 
Shakespeare several times uses trarn with the meaoiDg 
of "summon." Palsgrave, who interprets the word by 
monyshe, and dt^ende (i.e. forbid), gives also the foUov- 
ing: " I wame a man to apere at a courte in judgemeoL 
Je somme, je adjoume, and je somons." Cotgrave five* 
** Citer. To cite, summon, adjounie, team, serve with* 
writ to appeare." In Jamieson's Scottish Dictionary tke 
word is said to have this sense in the dialect of Clyde*' 
dale, in such phrases as tram the meeting, or iram tt« 
members. It seems to be a law tenn. 

100. Line 47: Because I cannot flatter and 8PIAK/«v 
—This is the reading of Qq. Ff. have look fair. 

110. Line 53: By silken, sly, insinuatittg Jack?.-^ 
is the reading of Qi\. ; Ff. have With. Jack was a comn^ 
name for any man of the lower orders, or serving-msn. 
It is very often used with the depreciatory sense which 
it has in the text, much as we should now use *' feUow." 

111. Line 54: Riv. To WHOM in aU this presence sfesb 
your grace t — We follow Qn. in giving this q>eerh t* 
Rivers. In Ff. it is assigned to Grey. It certainly **•■> 
more appropriate in the mouth of Rivers, tlie elder ssd 



ACT I. Scene 3. 

mure important peraon of the two. F. 1 re«dt who in- 
stead at whom. 

lit. Lines 08. 08. 0B: 

The king, OF hii own royal diapotUUni, 

Makes him to tend; that thereby he tnay gather 
The ground qf your iU-wiUt and 80 remove it. 

There it tome confoiion of ideas in this q>eech; brought 
abont, Teiy likely, bj tlie long parenthetical clause con- 
tained in lines 64-07. In order to make sense of the 
passage we mnst take the words of line 08 as though they 
had been "It is the king's own royal disposition." In- 
stead of lines 08. 0B; Kf. giro only the line 

Makes Ua to scad, that be may learnc the grotnid. 

This looks, as Spedding obsenred. very much as though 
an alteratioB of the text had been begun and left incom- 
plete in the copy from which F. 1 was printed. Ff. read 
on for </ in line 83; lines 08, 09 are taken from Qq.. with 
the exception of so in line OB, which Ls Capell's correction, 
the Qq. reading being to. 

111. Lines 81, 88: 

to ennoble those 

Thai tearee, tome two days tinee, were worth a MOBLE. 

The noble was a gold coin of the value of six shillings 
and eightpence. This passage is not the only pun on the 
word. Comi»are Richard II. v. 5. 07, 08, and note 822 
thereon; also L Henry VI. v. 4. 23. 

114 Lines 90, 91: 

You may deny that you were not the CAUSE 
Of my Lord Haetingt' late imprieonmenL 

Cauee is the reading of Qq.; Ff. have meane, which would 
seem rather to mean "agent" or "instrument." than 
merely "bringer abont" For the use of the negative 
after deny,— for the sake of emphasis it would seem,— 
compare C<Hnedy of Errors, note 100, and Passionate Pil- 
isrim, line 124. 

lU. Line 101: A ba^elor, a handsome stripling too.— 
This is the reading of Qq. Ff. give: 

A Batcbellor, mtid a handsome ttripUnf too ; 
iMit this weakens the force of the line. 

118. Line 102: Iwu your grandam had a worser ma<eA. 

- See Iferebant of Venice, note 197, concerning the word 

iwie (A.S. gewieX which corresponds to the Oerman gewis. 

V 1 correctly prints it as one word, while Ff. give / trur, 

as though wis wen a verb. 

117. Line 106: Of Uum grots taunts I OFTEM hate en- 

dHr^d.—¥. 1 reads as f<dlows : 

of tbose fiwM taaats ihmt ^ I have endur'd. 

i^\. have: 

If^dA dMMe frose tavnli I often haue endured. 

U8. Lines 114, 115: 

Tdi him, and spare not: look, what I have said 
I wHl acottdk in presence qf the king. 

This is the reading of Qq. Ff . omit line 114, and read 
«eoMd^'t in line 115. instead of avouch. 

Uf. Line 118: Out, devU! I remember them too well. - 
The reading of Ff. is / do remember, but this is distinctly 

inferior to that in the text, which is taken from Qq. / 
must be emphasized by the speaker. 

ISO. Lines 121, 122 : 

£re you were queen, ay, or your hu^>and king, 
I was a pack-horse in his great affairs. 

This is in accordance with the representation which the 
second and third parts of Henry VI. have given of Rich- 
ard's actiona Historically the statement is incorrect 
Oloster did not come into prominent notice till Warwick's 
rebellion in 1470. Indeed, at his brother's accession he 
was barely nine years of age. Compare III. Henry VI. 
note 14. 

181. Lines 125, 126 : 

To ROTALISE his blood /81>ILT mine own. 
Q. Mar. [Aside] Ay, and much better blowi than his 
or thine. 

This is the reading of Qq. Ff. have spent instead of spilt, 
but this is less suitable to Margaret's answer. Royalise 
is unique in Shakespeare. It is found in Marlowe, Tam- 
burlaine, act iL so. 3 (Works, p. 15); in Greene, Friar 
Bacon and Friar Bungay (Works, p. 160), and in Peele, 
Edward I. (Works, p. 377). 

188. Lines 143. 144 : 

Hie thee to hell for shame, am/ leave thin world, 
Thou ca^nUmon! there thy kingdom is. 

Caeodemon was a name for the evil genius which every 
man was supposed to have constantly hovering about liim, 
prompting him to wrong actions, as etulemon or ealode- 
inon or agathodemon was the name of his guardian angel. 
Some, however, supposed that, while all demons were 
uncanny, some of them were merely mischievous, while 
the cacodemons were of a worse sort Thus Skelton, in 
Why Come Ye not to Court, lines 806-^07, tells how 
"malsterMewt, The Kinges French Secretary, is gone to 
another stede:" 

To the deuyU, syr Sathanas. 

And to his college conuentiutll. 
As wel calodemonyall 
As to cacodem^MjMi/. 

— Works, p. 164. 

While Howell (quoted in The Encyclopaedic Dictionary) 
says: "the Prince of darluies himself and all the coeo- 
dcemons by an historicall faith beleeve ther is a God" 
(Familiar Letters, vol. li. No. 10. p. 18). In an astrologi- 
cal figure of the heavens, caeodemon appears to have 
been the name given to the twelfth house of the sun's 
course, the one which was ruled by the malign influence 
of Saturn. The word is said to have alio signified the 

1S8. Line 147: We foUow'd then our lord, our LAWFUL 
Irin^.— 80 Qq. F. 1 has Soveraigne for lawful. The same 
sentiment occurs in III. Henry VI. iii. 1. 04, 06; and in 
Heywood, II. Edward IV. (Works, p. 182). 

IM. Line 150: Far be it from my heart, the thought of 
it/— 80. Qq. Ff. have thereof Instead of qf it. 

Its. Line 165: As little joy enjoys the queen thereqf.^ 
We have adopted Dyce's correction. Qq. and Ff. liave 
A little joy, etc. 


ACT 1. Scene li. 


ACT I. Soeoe S. 

IM. Line 161: 1/ twt, that, I bkino queen, you bmv like 
nibjeet$.—V. 1 has: 

If not, that I am Queene. ynu how like subiects. 

We have taken the reading of Qq. 

in. Lines 167-170: 

GIo. Wert thou not baniiked on pain qf death f 
Q. Mar. I toae; 
But J dojind more pain in baniahment 
Than death ean yield me here by my eUfode. 

Qq. omit these lines. 

198. Line 172: Thx eorrow that J have, by right ieyoure. 
—We have followed the reading of Qq. Ff. hare Thi* 
for The. 

U8. Line 182: So jutt it God, to right the innocent — 
Ritson compares Thomas Lord Cromwell, ii. 3 : 

How ju»t is God to rif^ht the innocent ! 

—Supplement to Shakespeare (1780). iL 395. 

130. Line 194 : Could all but anewer for that peevieh 
frrst;— This is the reading of Qq. Ff. have ahould. 

181. Line 200: For Edtnard MY son, that wae Prince (^ 
Wale$.—Vt. have " our son." My is from Q(i. 

188. Line 204: Long mayst thou live to vail thy ehil- 
dren't loss:— Lose is the reading of Qq. Ff. have death, 
which, however, occurs Just below, line 207. 

188. Line 213: That none of you may live BIS natural 
a^.— This is the reading of Qq. Ff. have your instead 
of Am. 

181 Line 214: But by some unlook'd accident cut off!— 
The meaning of this elliptical line is "But be each of you 
carried off suddenly by some unforeseen accident." Un- 
look'd instead of uiUook'dfor is unique in Shakespeare. 

186. Line 219: let THKM keep it till thy sine be ripe.— 
Them refers to heaven, in line 217. Rowe substituted 
heavens, but unnecessarily. The same use of heaven as a 
plural occurs elsewhere. Compare Richard II. note 50. 

186. Lines 228-230: 

Thou elrish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog! 
Thau that \cast eeaVd in thy iMtivity 
The slave qf nature, and the eon qf hell ! 

Compare III. Henry VI. IL 2. 136-187: 

But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam ; 
But like a foul mis-shapen stlgmatic, 
Mark'd by the Destinies to be avoided. 

Persons bom with scars or deformities were popularly 

believed to have been marked, or " taken," by the wicked 

elves. Compare flamlet, i. 1. 163; Comedy of Errors, note 

103. Such birth-marks were usually looked on as ominous. 

and those who bore them were regarded as persona of 

evil disposition who should be avoided. Oberon's charm 

at the conclusion of A Midsummer Night's Draam is» inttr 

alia, to avert from the expected offspring 

ovirk prodii^ous, such at are 
Despised in nativity (v. i. 419. 420). 

The precise application of nativity is to the disposition 
of the heavenly influences at the moment of birth. (See 
Ony Mannering, chap. iv.. where there is a description of 
the prognostication of an infant's fortune from the posi- 


Uun of the heavenly bodies at its birtli.) The next line 
explains Margaret's meaning. As a slave convicted of any 
crime was branded with a mark to show his infamy, so 
she says Richard, at his birth, was branded by the fates 
with the molt repulsive deformity, as a slgu that be was 
the vilest and foulest creature of nature, the child not of 
earth but of helL 

U7. Line 288: Thou RAO of honour/— Roffssthnd, tat- 
tend scrap: rag of honour denotes that Richard ia one 
who shows hardly any trace of the nobility which 
to him by birth. But the expreasion is obacore. 
where, as in Taming of the Shrew, iv. 8. 112, and Tlmoo 
of Athens, iv. 9. 271, rag is used by Shakespaare in a 
similar sense without a qualifying phrase. 

188. Line 241: Poor painted queen, vain PLOtnusB </ 
my fortune!— The former part of this line explains the 
latter. Elizabeth is but a painted queen, i«. ia only made 
up to resemble a queen: she is the flourieh, the outward 
nneasential insignia of that station to which, thon^ 
shorn of its rights and privileges, Margaret alone poMeaaea 
the right Compare Love's Lal>our's Lost, ii. L 18, 14: 

Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but me«ui. 
Needs not the painted ^tfurwA of yoor praise. 

188. Line 242: Why strev'st thou sugar on that BOTrLI& 
8Pll>SR ?— The exact meaning of this expression does not 
seem clear. The reference may be to strewing tugar Ux 
bees at the entrance of their hives, as la dona by bee- 
keepers in the winter ; the meaning being that the qnssa 
is treating the venomous spider Richard aa if he were s 
useful and comparatively harmless bee. The belief in 
the venomous nature of q>iders (see Richard IL notaSU) 
was very strong in Shakespeare's time. Batman vppoa 
Bartholomew, 158S Oilit xviU- chap. 10. pp. 84S-847) gim 
numberlesa remedies for spiders' bitea On the other haad, 
spiders were held by some people to be delidons eatiag. 
In Kirby and Spence's Entomology, voL L pp. 811, Sit, 
will be found some interesting instances of well-knovs 
persons who have freely partaken of spiders aa a deUcscr 
for the table. I myself have seen a boy at ichool sit 
spiders frequently, and they seemed to agree with bin 
very well But it is doubtful whether Shakeapears kMV 
anything about edible spiders. The " Spinner,** as Sit- 
man calls the spider, was the type of everything tbatwn 
polsonooa Spiders, according to Pliny, were ruy foad 
of honey, and were formidable enemies to bees; thsy oer 
tainly are partial to sweet things, and will come freely 
to the mixture of sugar, rum, Ac., used by coUectonfor 
alluring moths. 

As to the epithet bottled, the tiae of the word, ia tt^ 
sense = "bloated," seems to be Ttry imconnaoo. We hs*« 
the expression "bottle-nowd" used by Marlowe; laditd 
it is common enough. It is jKMsible tbat ffhtkttpt^ 
might have taken the epithet bottlod from that iiiMhift 
meaning that the abdomen was swollen like the noitflf * 
bottle-nosed man. The blue-bottle is, aa ia well kaovs. th* 
popular name of the fly that feeds on flesh-meat (JhM* 
vomitaria). There is no doubt .that it has got fhis Vt^ 
from its large blue abdomen. The blue-bottle was also tt» 
popular name of the Centaurea CyanuM, the plaat tsm- 
mnnly called the corn-flower, flt>m Ita being ImbsA i* 

ACT I. 8«wiM 3. 


ACT I. Scene 3. 

com-lMdt, md deriring its name of Uue-boitU fpom th« 
faiiDel-aliiqMd llUle llow«n which form ito compodte 
UloMom. and whidi ai« amnfed aouMwhai in tha form of 
zbottU. Bat it iaaingalar that I cannot find ftftttlMi given 
in an J old dickionavy in tiie Mnae here med, nor have I 
come aeraaa any other instance of ita use; it is not in 
Baretk or Ootgrave, or Florio, or Minahea, or Colet, or 
Bailey; nor in any gloMary of the many that I have 
■earehed. It may therefore be that, in t|>ite of the plans- 
il>le exphuMtlon which can be given for baitUd, ie. '* with 
a laige belly like a bottle," it really ia a misprint for 
Moated. Grey (voL iL p. <tt; conjectured bloated, which is 
a very obvious conjecture; bnt it is perhaps better to 
leave the word as an addition to our langnage, although 
we may not be able to find any other instance of its use 
in this sense. In Kitson's Remarks on Shakespeare, 178S 
(p. ISS). is the following note: *" A spider,' says dr. John- 
son. * ia called botUed, because, like other insects, he has 
a middle slender, and a belly protuberant' A most ra- 
tfnnal and satisfactory explanation, —very little worse 
than none at all. A botHed $pid&r is the large bloated 
spider with a deep black shining skin, generally esteemed 
the most venomoua" I do not know to what spider this 
learned and dogmatic critic intends to refer. Unfortu- 
nately for his statement, those q>ider8 found in England 
vhich are black, are distinguished by having a longer and 
narrower abdomen than almost any other speclea One 
of the commonest may be seen frequently in houses, a for- 
midable-looking insect with long and powerful legs and a 
particularly thin body. The most bloated of all spiders 
b a very handsome insect, whose web may be found among 
the bashes in nearly all copses and thickets; a particularly 
large species, with the body beautifully marked, being 
common amongst the brackens and shrubs on the moun- 
tains in the English lake district. 

ItB. Line M6: buneh-back'd, —This epithet occurs again 
below (ir. 4. 8X Thoee editors who prefer to read huneh- 
badt'd theteby get rid of a very expressive epithet Any* 
one who haa seam a toad« when attacked by a dog, will 
admit that bundi-bmdk'd is a moat appropriate epithet 
The toad bmnek§9 up his back preparatory to emitting 
the veaon, a e cre ted in the folliclea on his shoulders. 
which is hie Mily defence against his assailant 

ML Lteea 255, 266.— ThomasOrey was created Marqness 
of Donct. 1475 (tee above, note 14)l The events of this 
sreiM are sop poae d to take place in 1477, 1478. 

l«l. line 184: Owr ASRT bttOdHh in the eedar'a top.— 
This word, aomeiimes spelt eyry or eyrie, is of uncertain 
derivatkm. It origioally meant the nest of an eagle or 
hawk or olbtr bird of prey, built in a high, or as one 
might nj . «<ry plaoe; but came to be used, very gene- 
rally, for file yoong brood of such birds. Shakespeare 
never vaea the word in any other sense. See John, v. 2. 


Aad Wkm an «ei|lc o'er hb atiy towers; 

and Ifawlet. U. 2. 854: "an aery of children," where it Ls 
hi n Qganttre aenaes company of children; it also 
hi Baa 270 of this play, just below. Theae are the 
only plaesa where Shakeapeare uses the word. Some 
antheritlea^ IMhnrfaig Spdman, have aonght to derive the 

word from " Sazon eghe, Anglo-Norman eye, i.e. an egg ;" 
but there is little doubt that this derivation is the wrong 
one. There is a Low Latin word area which means the 
nest of a bird of prey. Skeat first supposed the source of 
the word to be the Icelandic an = an eagle, the German 
oar— a very plausible derivation, which, however, he 
afterwards, in his Addenda, withdrew. Most probably the 
word Is formed from the French atr«=an open space, one 
sense of which is the nest of a bird of prey. Aire Is un- 
doubtedly derived from the Latin area; and Llttr^ thinks 
that it obtained the meaning of nest fromi the primary 
meaning of the word, a "level surface of the rock where 
the eagle makes its nest" Some authorities connect it 
with the Latin aer; and it may be noted that the old q;>ell- 
Ing of air was ayre, which is the only form of tlie word 
given in Baret's Aivearie. 

As to eagles building on cedar trees Shakespeare again 
aUudes to this in II L Henry VI. v. 2. 11, 12: 

Thus ]riclds the cedmr to the axe's ed^e. 
Whose arms gave shelter to the princely ei^/e: 

and Marlowe in his Edward II.: 

A lofty cedar^m, fair flourishinf^. 

On whose top-braocbes kingly eagUs p<r<h. 

—Works, p. 195. 

alluding to the habit of these birds perching on the tops 
of cedar trees. It would be interesting to know what 
gave rise to this connection between eagles and cedar 
trees. As a rule, all eagles build among precipitous 
rocks; and the larger species of hawks prefer crags, or the 
steep sides of mountains, as places for their nests, even 
where there is no lack of large trees. Eagles, however, 
do build in high trees in forests: but one would think that, 
even in Shakespeare's time, there would be very few eai^es 
that built anywhere except upon cliffs or precipiMs. 
Pliny says (bk. x. chap, ill): "Build they doe and make 
their nests upon rockes and treee " (pt i. p. 272). Shake- 
speare and Marlowe may have remembered this passage ; 
but a cedar tree is certainly not the tree one would ex- 
pect an eagle to select 

14L Lines 286. 267: 

And twma the sun to »kade;—alae! aloe!— 
Witneu my son, now in the ehade nf death. 
The play on the words tun and ton is obvious. However 
questionable the taste of such playing upon words may 
be, it is oonamon enough in Shakeapeare and his contem- 
poraries. The same quibbling on the words is found in 
Borneo and JuUet iii & 127-129: 

When the sum sets, the tir 6oHh drixsle dew; 
But for the siutsei of ay brother's spm 
It rains downright. 

See also Bichard II. note 115, and John, note 110. 

144. Line 270: Tour AKRT btiildeth in our AKRT's nest. 
-Some have thought that aery means "eagle" In this 
passage, and there certainly is some ground for this sup- 
position, as it is not the young birds but the old ones that 
build the nest; It Is doubtful, however, whether aery 
means anything more than brood = race. Pliny uses the 
word in that sense, in the same chapter from which we 
have quoted above, " one airie of .£gles needeth the reach 
of a whole countrey to fumWi them with venison suftl- 
cient to their fuU" (p. 278). 

ACT I. Scene 3. 


ACT I. Soeue S. 

146. Line 272: At it WAS won with blood, loitbeit to!-^ 
8u Qq. ; Ff. read " u won." 

146. Line 287: I WILL MOT THTHK 6uf they aooend the 
jtJry— So Ft.; Qq. have I"U not believe; bnt think ia used 
as = " to believe " several times by Shakespeare; e.g. in Ham- 
let, i. 5. 121: "would heart of man once think it?" and in 
the same pl«y, v. 2. SO0: "1 do not think X" ue. I do not 
believe it; and a still more remarkable instance in Othello, 
ii. 8. 335: " I think it freely." The I'U not believe of Qq. 
looks very much like an actor's substitution for / will not 
think, which is the more characteristic expression of the 

147. Line 201: Hie venom tooth will tunUe to the death. 
— See Comedy of Errors, note 126; compare III. Henry 
VI IL 2. 138: "venom toads." 

146. Line 292: Have NOUOHT to do with Atm.~We have 

adopted an anonymous conjecture given by the Cambridge 

edd. The reading of Qq. Ft. is: "Have not to do with 

him." It is chiefly for metrical reasons that we have 

adopted this emendation, which is a very slight one, and 

does away with the disagreeable emphasis on not. We flud 

the expression have to do with, in Measure for Measure, 

i. 1. 64. 65: 

Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do 

IVith any scruple; 

in IL Henry Vl. v. 2. 56: 

Henceforth I wiU not kavt to do with pHy: 

and Lucrece (line 1092): 

For day hath nought to do what 's done by night: 

where what 's = with what is. 

149. Line 304: My hair doth ttand ON end to hear her 
eurMes.—So the first six quartos; Ff. Q. 7, Q. 8 have "an 

150. Lines 811, 812.— Gloucester evidently refers here 
to the supposed ingratitude of Edward. See above, i. 8. 
117, and 121-125. 

161. Line 814: He ii pramk'D up to /attittg for hit 
paint. — Baret, in his Alvearie, has " a Franke: a cowpe ; " 
and " Francked, to be made fatte." Cotgrave gives: "A 
Frank (to feed hogs in.) Franc'* None of the commen- 
tators, though they explain frank, seem to have noticed 
the particular exprewion to frank up. which occurs here 
and in this same play below (iv. 5. 8); these being the 
only two passages in which Shakespeare uses the verb= 
" to fatten," " shut up in a sty or frank for the purpose of 
fattening." Nowadays when rabbits or poultry are taken 
away from the rest and put into a hutch or coop to be 
fatted we say they are "taken up." 

lt». Line 817: To pray for them that have done 9CATH 
/AIM.— Compare John. ii. l. 75: 

To do offence and jcath in Chrittendom ; 
and Titus Andronlcus, v. 1. 7: 

And wherein Rome hath done you any xotth. 
The verb is only used once, i.e. in Romeo and Juliet, i. 5. 
86: "This trick may chance to teathe you" 

158. Lines 318, 819: 

So do I ever: TAside] being tmU advit^d; 
For had I eurt^d now, 1 had eurt'd mytelf. 



In Ff. the words Spedket to himeelf are given between these 
two lines; we have placed the A&ide in the middle of line 
818, as the sense seems to require it. Some editors— Dyoe, 
for instance— mark the whole q)eech Atide; while other 
editors, seeming to follow what is indicated by Ff.. make 
only line 819 so spoken; but as Rivers's speech is pro- 
bably meant to be ironical. Oloster would be likely to 
make some answer aloud; and as the sense of well adme'4 
must be "sensible." " prudent.' the latter half of line SU 
seems to belong more to the portion spoken aside. 

IM. Line 321: And for your grace,— and you, wy nobit 
, lordt.—Ft. have: 

And for your noble Grace : and yours my gracious Lord ; 

i Q. 1, Q 2: 

I And for your Grace, and you my noble Lo : 

The text is substantially the same as that of Q. 1. Q. S; 
only that they have the abbreviation Lo: for Lordt; Q. X 
Q. 8, Q. 4, Q. 5. Q. 6 have my noble lord. If we adopt tht 
leading of Ff., we must imagine that Rivers is the only 
lord that is asked to attend the king: but as in the nest 
Hue, 822, Qq. Ff. agree in reading Lordt, will you go with 
met (Qq. ut) the invitation was probably addressed to 
tliem all. 

lU. Line 328: to tnany timple OULLS.— There seems to 
be some difficulty as to the meaning of this word wbcs 
applied to a dupe. OuU, in the dialect of many soutbcfi 
counties in England, means "the young gosling;" and is 
the north, especially in Cheshire, it means "an unfledged 
bird. " In this sense it is used by Shakespeare, perhapi. 
in Timon of Athens, ii. 1. 31: 

Lord Timon will be left a naked £uti, 

and in the often quoted passage from I. Henry IV. t. L 
60: "that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird." There doe* 
not seem to be any particular reason for holding all the 
guU tribe, properly so called, to be especially foolbb 
birds. On the other hand, nearly all persons who hsw 
been shipwrecked on desert islands, either in reality or in 
fiction, are represented as having sustained themselves os 
^0 ^SB* o' sea-fowl, and on the birds themselves, whick 
they procured by knocking them on the head with a 
stick. The common guiUemot is generally called the 
foolith guiUemot; but how it got its name Is not rerj 
clear. Certainly it is not such a foolish-looking bird m 
the little auk or as the pyjfin. Skeat derives gull tram 
Welsh gwylan, Breton gwelan; and he says that gvll>^* 
dupe, was "from an untrue notion that the guU wsi i 
stupid bird." giving the verb to guU as a derivative tiron 
that word. It would seem that the verb fo gull was vted 
earlier than the substantive in the sense of " to deoeivs." 
"to trick." Raret, for instance, gives the verb in thst 
sense, but not the noun; and the old French rtibgwBer, 
"to deceive." is given as an obsolete word by Cotgisvt 
It is possible that to gull in the sense of "to deceive" hsi 
nothing to do with the bird at all. Mfist authorities wtm 
to reject the derivation of Skinner from the latin g^: 
but there is no doubt that what it characteristic at tbt 
whole gull tribe is not their stupidity bnt their greodi- 
ness. They will eat almost any kind of food, and ia say 
quantity: it is just possible that it wan from this chant- 
teristic that the word came to be used for a dope at fosL 



ACT I. Scene 4. 

le. a penon who would devour or noaiUnt eagerly every- 
thing that he hewd. 

IM. Line SSS: To be reveng'd on Riyirs, Vauqhan, 
Geky.— 80 Qq.; Fl. hare "Ri?en, Dwnet, Orej." We 
prefer the reading of Qq. becaoee Vaughan waa one of 
the ftrst to raffer with Rivere and Orey. See note 20. 
Vav^mn always appears to be pronounced as a dissyl- 
lable in this play. See below, U. 4. 48; iii S. 24. 

117. LfaieaS88,8S7: 

And tkue I eUMu my naked villany 
With old odd enda etoFn out qfholy writ. 

(*ompare Merchant of Venice, I 8. 98, 99: 

Mmrk yoo this, Baasanio, 
The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. 

IM. line S40: STOUT, REBOLYKD malM.— Some editors 
hyphen these two epithets; but for re9ol9ed= "resolute," 
compare John t. 6. 29: "a reeolved villain." 

IM. Line 346: But, nrs, be svddbn in the exeeution.— 
Compare Julius Caesar, iit 1. 19: 

Casca, be smUUh, for we fear prevention. 

190. line 858: Your eyee drop tnHUtcnee, when foole' 
Or^« FALL tear*.— So Ff.; Qq. have "drop tears." .Fo^ is 
used transitively by Shakespeare in several other passages, 
eg. in Lucrece, line 1651: 

For every tear heyW/x a Trojan bleeds; 

Slids. Night's Dream, v. 1. 143: "her mauUe she did /aU." 
Steevens quotes from Caesar and Pompey, 1007: 

Mcb's eyes must mittst^nes drop, wktn fools sh^ tears. 

The expression may have been a proverbial one. 


in. Lines 9, 10: 

Methought that I had broken /rotn the Tower, 
And woe embarVd to eroes to Burgundy. 

Printed as one line in Qq. Clarence was anxious to have 
gone to the aid of Ms sister, Haigaret, Duchess of Bur- 
gundy, her dominions having been attacked by Lewis XI. 
after the death of her husband, Charles the Bold, whose 
daughter, Mary, by a former wife, Clarence was anxious 
to marry. See above, note 4. 

lil Line C7: uhtaluI) jewels.— Ttd» is the only In- 
stance in Shakespeare of the use of uniNi2tied= invaluable. 
Compare Qnailes' Virgin Widow, act Iv. sc. 1: 
How, how hast thoo rcator'd my iyiBg lile 
With thy ttfrvmitt'd exedienc9. — Edn. 1656, p. 43. 

Ml Lfaie St: That woo'D the tUmy bottom qf the deep. 
— Q.S. Q.fl^ Q.7. Q.8 have wade. Heath conjectured 
etrewed; but surely it would be a pity to destroy this very 
charseierlstie ex pr es s ion. Johnson's explanation of the 
line is. **1ij seeming to gase upon it; or, as we now say, 
to ogU it" (Var. Kd. vol. xir p. 56)l 

IM Lines 98. 87: 

Methought I had; and q^en did 1 etrive 
To yield the ghoei: but etm the enviaui /lood. 

Here again Qq. have only one line: 

MethooKbt I had. for stilt the enoious fibad. 

Itt. Line 88: Stopp'D in my «ou/.-Qq. have "kept in," 
a much less forcible expression. Compare Comedy of 
Brrors, i. 2. 68: "Stop in your wind, sir." 

166. Line 40: my panting BULK.— Compare the well- 
known passage in Hamlet, ii. 1. 95, 96: 

To shatter all his tttl/k 
And end his being. 

Chaucer uses the old form bouke in the Knightes Tale, 

2747, 2748: 

The dotered blood, for eny lechc-craft 

Corrumpeth, and is in his ^ouJke ylaft. 

—Works, vol. i. p. 369. 

llie original meaning of the word, in this sense, was the 
breast. Baret in his Alvearie gives as a synonym " thora» 
et la poitrine. " Fabyan (p. 672) has: " he was cutte downe, 
beynge alyue, A his bowellys rypped out of his bely, 
and cast into the fyre there by hym, and lyued tyll the 
bowcher put his hands into the bulke of his body." The 
old Dutch form of the word was buleke, in modem Dutch 

167. Line 46: With that sov^ /erryman which poets 
write qf.—Yfe prefer sour = morose to the reading of Qq. 
grim. Compare Richard II. v. 3. 121, "my sour hus- 
band ; " and Julius Caesar, L 2. 180: 

And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you. 

168. Line 50: Who CRIKD aloud.- Vi. have spake; we 
prefer the reading of Qq. 

168. Lhies 53. 54: 

A shadow like an angel, with bright hair 
Dahbled in blood. 

This passage has been iroiUted by Lee iu his Mithridates. 
Iv. 1: 

when cold Lucretia's mourning shadow 
His curtains drew, and lash'd him in his eyes 
With her bright tresses, dmbbled in her blood. 

170. Line 55:/e«ftii^.— Compare Antony and Cleopatra. 
V. 2. 240, 241: 

I am marble-constant ; now xhtjleetittji; moon 
No planet is of mine. 

171. Lines 58-60 —Steevens points outs that Milton 
must have imitated this passage in book iv. of Paradise 
Begained, when describing the sufferings of our Saviour: 

Infernal ghosts, and hellish furies, round 

Environ'd thee, some howl'd, some yell'd, some shriek'd. 

ITS. Line 66: O Brakenburt. / have dotu those things. 
—So Qq. ; Ff. have Ah keeper, keeper. See below, note 175. 

178. Lines 6^72.— Qq. omit these four lines. 

174 Line 72: spare my guiUUss ir</<f.— Clarence's 
wife died December. 1476 (see note 4), more than a year 
before his impeachment. 

176. Line 73: Tpray thee, BRAKENBURT. »TAT by me.— 
Q<|. have " gentle keeper; " Ff.: 

Keeper, I prythee sit by me a-while. 

We have adopted Pope's emendation, having followed al- 
ready the reading of Qq. above, line 66, where Clarence 
does not address Brake-tihury as keeper. 

178. Line 75: / iritt. my lord: Ood give your grace good 
rest!—¥t. have at beginning of this scene Enter Clarence 


ACT I. Scene 4. 


ACT L Soene 4. 

and keeper, and after thii line, which is given to the 
keeper, we have a itage-direotion« " Enter Brakertbury," 
and to him ia assigned the rest of the speech, beginning 
at the next line. Brakei^ury was lieutenant of the 
Tower; and we know from lines 96, 07 that Clarence was 
specially conunitted to his charge. It certainly would 
seem, from the stage-direction of K. 1, that the copy of the 
play from which that was transcribed, did assign the 
speeches in the former part of this scene, which we have 
given to Brakenbury, to another character (the keeper). 
There is no provision, however, for the exit of the keeper; 
and it would certainly seem that the Qq. on this point 
represent the better version of the two. Grant White 
defends the arrangement in ¥t. on the ground that it 
would be infra dig. for Brakenbury to carry a great bunch 
of keys; and Hunter, in his Illustrations (vol. iL pp. 8S, 84), 
also prefers tlie reading of Ff. for the reasons: " First that 
it is improbable Brakenbury, who was the Lieutenant of 
the Tower, should pais the night in the sleeping room of his 
prisoner;" on which Dyce very pertinently observes that 
it is clear that this scene took place at daytime and not 
at night; secondly. Hunter thinks that the reflections of 
Brakenbury in this speech (75-83) having no reference to 
the dream, which Clarence has Just narrated, would suit 
one better who had just entered and found Clarence 
sleeping, than one who had listened to such alTecting 
worda He also thinks that the remarks, made by the 
person to whom Clarence narrates his dream, are more 
those of an uncultivatr'd man. such as a keeper would be, 
than of one like Brakenbury. There is certainly some 
force in these latter objections; but, if we suppose Braken- 
bury, on his entrance, to pause a little and contemplate 
the sleeping Clarence, the words to which he gives utter- 
ance are appropriate, and may well be detached from the 
first line of the speech, on which we are commenting. 
The unnecessary introduction of a minor chsracter is 
what a practical dramatist generally endeavours, if pos- 
sible, to avoid; and we cannot say that there is sufficient 
reason for any such introduction here. As we have 
already said, Clarence was evidently conunitted to Braken- 
bury 's special charge; and it Is more likely that he would 
have made such confidences to him than to an inferior 

177. Lines 78, 79: 

Prineei have but their TITLES for their ^oriei. 
An outward honour for an intMrd toil 

.lohnson would read troubles; the meaning of the line, 
however, would seem to be that the only reward princes 
have is their empty titUe; though perhaps troubles would 
correspond better with the sense of the second line. 

178. Lines 80, 81: 

And, for ur\feU imaginations. 

They often feel a uforld qf restless cares. 

The meaning is: " In retnn for imaginary joys never ex- 
perienced, they often suffer a world of real trouble." 

179. Lines 84. 85: 

First Murd. Ho I who 's here f 
Brak. What wouldst thou, fellow f and how cam'st 
thou hither f 


()q. omit line 84; and instead of What wovUtst thou, fel- 
low t have In Ood's name what are youf Perhaps the 
reading of FY. was owing to the act of James L so often 
alluded to. 

IM. Line 80.— In Qq. the prefix for this speech is JBmcm. 
or MoBsc and in line 89 below, f Aps. 

181. Lines 89. 90. —Printed as verse in Qq. and Ft Qq. 
instead of **Let him see our commission " have " show him 
our commission." If we wanted to make two vases, we 
might read: 

T is better to be brief dum tedious; 

Let him MC our conminioo : talk no ntoro ; 

but it is much preferable to leave it in prose as printed in 
the text. 

185. Line 94: guUtless OF tks memUnif.- So Qq. R 
have "from the meaning." 

188. Line 95: There lies the duke asleep [Pointing to 
pallet], and there the keys [Uiving him keys).— Qq. read: 
Here are tlie Iceys there sits the duke asleep. 

The duke was probably not sitting on a chair, but lyiiv 
on a pallet bed. It is difficult to see any reason why the 
reading of Qq. should be preferred. 

181 Line 100: Tou may, sir; 'tis a point qf wisdom: 
FARE TOU WEUi.— Qq. omit the last three words, which 
Ff. print as a separate line. 

188. Lines 105, 106: Why, hs shaU never teaks mUU the 
I great judgment-day.— ThiM speech stands thus in Q. 1 : 

I When he wakes, why foole Ik shall never wake till the Jadgnest- 

' day. 

' The reading of Ff. seems more in accordance with the 
next speech of the second murderer. 

186. Line 112: having a warratU FOR IT.-So Qq.; Ff. 
omit /or it. 

187. Lines 112-114 —This passage is printed as vene la 
Qq. Ff.; but as verse without any meaaure in it; it would 
have been easy to have made it verse thus: 

No. BOI to kill bin. haTing warrant for t; 
But to be daian'd for killing him. from which 
No warrant can defend me. 

It would seem that while writing portions of thte lecM 
the author was tn hesitation whether to wrfta flien Is 
prose or verse. 

168. Line 120: T hope my passtonati humour inB 
change.— yisny editors prefer the reading of Qq. "siy 
holy humour." Malone thought that some actor hsi 
made the change of Aoly to passionate on account of ft« 
act of James I. so often alluded to. But whether jisn if 
ate here means "compassionate" or simply ** fun of way 
tion," as it so often does in Shakespeare, it seens tite 
more Shakespearean epithet of the twa There vii 
nothing particularly holy in the second murderer^ ftw* 
porary feeling of remorse. 

188. Line 125: [After a short pause] Bow dcst then /f*i 
thyself now;— The actor must evidently pmne ■ iboii 
time before this speech, in order to give bis comrade U^ 
to count twenty. There is a good deal of huDonr in tbi* 

ACT L HoeiM 4. 


ACT I. Scene 4. 

scene. It reminds one more of the prose parts of Henry 

IV. than of the earlier historical plays. The speech of 
the second murderer on eonseieiies (lines 138-148) is qoite 
in Shakeqware's best stgrle. 

190. Line 151: Take the devQ in thy miiuf.— Heath con- 
jectured '* Shake of this devil in thy mind." and Capell 
" Shake the deril out of thy mind." But though the ex- 
pression in the text is a rather peculiar one, it does not 
need any emendation; as has been pointed out in the 
foot-note, the him in the next sentence refers to wn- 
rei^nee and not to the detU. 

191. line 150: Take him over the coetard, — Compare 
Henry V. Iv. 1. 231: " I will take thee a box on the ear;" 
and Taming of Slirew, iii. 8. 165: " took him such a cuff." 
The word take is closely allied to the Ctothic Ueant and 
possibly is connected with the Latin tangere, both of 
which verbs mean " to touch." 

198. Line 160: THROW him into the maimeey-butt.—i^ti 
read here "e^op him." Is not this a misprint for "dap 

198. Line 176: Tow eyee do menace me: why Uh^ you 
paUf—TluB line is omitted in Qq. 

191 line 177.— The prefix to this line and the next line 
hut one, where both murderers speak together, is in Qq. 
aiH; use below, note 268, where the prefix is ant. 

199. Lines IM. 105: 

/ duirge you, ae you hope to have redemption 
By Christ s dear Mood ehedfor our grievoue tine. 

The reading in the text is that of Qq.; Ff. omit line 195 
altogether, and instead of " as you hope to have redemp- 
tion' hare " as you hope for any goodnese;" both these 
changes having probably been made on account of the 
act of James I. 

199. line 90O: ErronMUM immmI*. —Compare III. Henry 


ErrvHfMtr, mutioous, and unnatural 

197. Lines 206-212.— These two speeches would seem to 
indicate that these murderers were not taken from the 
low or peasant elasa. They seem to hare been acquainted 
with the history of the time; and were probably soldiers 
of foTtane, or merceDaries, who must have been common 
enough during the civil wars; as they were also in Elixa- 
beth's time, throng the wars in the Netherlands. 

199 Line 206: Thou didst receive the SACRAMENT to 
/tght.—Qq. have "hoiy sacrament r but it is very doubt- 
ful if It means anything more than taking an oath, with- 
out reeeivfaig the hdy oommuiion. Compare Rich. IL 

V. £ 9T, and King John, t. 2. 6. 

199. Line 909: In fumrrel of the honte qf Lancaster.^ 
Compue Uh Henry VL ilL 9. 6: "m quarrel qf the 
house of York." 

line 218: Be sends you not to mwrder me for this. 
—Before this line Qq. have " Why, sirs," in a separate line. 

991. Lfaie 222: O. know you yet, he doth U pubUdy.— 
Qq emit this line. 

\. Line 22 7 : galla »U, springing. —Most editors hyphen 
these two words; but it is not so printed either in Qq. or 
Ff. I take the meaning not to be " growing up in beauty." 
as Schmidt explains it; but that there are two separate 
epithets, gallant and sprin^^nj^ =" youthful." Inhere 
would seem to be a tautology between gallant and brave; 
but gallant expresses the graceful qualities of courage; 
brave the more solid qualities. 

908. Line 228: That princely NOVICE. — He means a 
novice in the character of a prince, not simply a youth 
new to the world. 

904. Line 246: Ay, MILLSTONES; as he lesson'd us to 
tn?«^.— Compare Massinger's City Madam, iv. 8: 

Will weep when he hears how we are us'd. 
I. Serj. Yes miltstones. — Works, p. 447 

904a. lines 251, 252: 
It cannot be; for he bewept my fortune, 
A tid hugg'd ^ns in his arms, and swore, with sob^. 
Q. 1 reads: 

It cannot be, for whett I fmrted with him. 
He hugd me in his armes, and swore with soba. 

The alteration was probably made on account of tlie 

metrical weakness of line 251 according to the reading of 

Q. 1. It is worth observing that in ii 2. 23-25 Qq. 1 to 6 

read : 

And when he tould me so, he wept. 

And hu^d me in his arme, and kindly kist my cheeke, 

for which F. 1 substituted 

And when my Vnckle told me so. he wept. 
And pittied me. and kindly kikt my cheeke : 

where, not only are the faults in metre of Qq. corrected, 
but It will be observed that the repetition of the words 

And hugd me m Mis arme, 

is avoided by F. 1. Referring back to the fUrst scene of 
this act we do not find anything in the text to warrant 
this description by Clarence of the farewell between him 
and his treacherous brother ; but it is possible that these 
lines are intended to give a hint to the actor of Richard 
in his parting scene with Clarence, and that the final 
farewell, though no words are spoken, should be as emo- 
tional in action as it is here described. 

9046. lines 257-260: 

Hast thou that holy feeling in tht soul. 
To counsel me to make my peace with Ood, 
And ART THOU yet to THT own SOUL so blind. 
That THOU WILT ufar with Ood by murdering tnet— 
F. 1 gives this passage with you and your instead of thoit 
and thine throughout, and sotds instead of soii^ making 
the appeal addressed to both the murderers, instead of 
to the one whom Clarence is, apparently, answering. Here 
the reading of Qq., which we follow, seems preferable. 

904 c. Lines 261, 262: 

0, sirs, consider, HE that set you on 
To do THIS deed will hate you for the deed. 
F. 1 has *' they that set you on" and " eA« deed," for "this 
deed," which Is certainly weaker than the reading of Q. 1. 

904 d. Lines 263-273: 

Clar. Relent, and save your souls. 

First Mnrd. Relent ! 't is cowardly and womanish. 


ACT I. 8oene 4. 


ACT II. Scene 1. 

Clar. Xot to relent i» beastly, navage, devUvih. — 
My friend, 1 spy sotne pity in thy looks; 
0, if thitie eye be not a flatterer. 
Come thou on my side, and entreat for me: 
A begging prince what beggar pities nott 
In the text of this much disputed passage we have followed 
Dyce; the first part of whose note is as follows: "So the 
first quarto (except that in the third line of Clarence's 
speech it has {' Oh \f thy eye'); and so the later quartos 
(with some very trifling variations). The folio hns: 

Clar. Rettttt, and saue your soutet: 
Which of you, if you were a Princes Sonne, 
Being pent from Liberty, as I am now, 
ir two »uch murtherers as your selues came to you. 
Would not intreat for life, as you would begge 
Were you in my distresse. 

I Reittitl no: 'T ts cowardly n$id womanish 

Cla. Not to relent, is fieast^y, sauage, diuetlisk: 
My Friend, I spy somefitty in thy lockes: 
O, if thine eye be not a Flatterer, 
Come thou oh my side, and intreate/or mee, 
A begging Prince, what begger fifties not. 

3 I.ooke behinde you, my Lord." 

Pope, Hanmer, and Capell adopted the reading of Q. 1 ; 
but rejected the last line of the speech 

A begging prince what beggar pities nott 

Theobald, Knight, Collier, Verplanck, and Hudson follow 
F. 1. Spedding most ably advocated the retention of the 
reading of F. 1, simply transferring the lines Which qfymt, 
down to distress, from after line 263: 

Relent and save your souls, 
to line 273 (Globe edn.) : 

A begging prince what beggar pities not? 

He also put a note of interrogation after entreat for life, 
and a break (— ) instead of a full stop after distress. 
Johnson had already suggested the transference of these 
lines, and had inserted before the line 

Which of you if you were a prince's son, 
the words A begging prince to be spoken by one of the 
murderers. The same punctuation was adopted, inde- 
pendently, by Mr. Hudson ; but he retained the additional 
lines in the same place as they occupy in F. 1. The Cam- 
bridge edd. have a very long note on this passage, and they 
adopt the arrangement first suggested by Tyrwhitt, and 
followed by Steevens in his edition of 1793, which is as 
follows : 

Clar. Jtelent, and save your souls. 
First Murd. Relent I 'tis cowardly and womanish 
Clar. AW to relent u beastly, savage, devilish, 

JVhich qfyou, if you were a prince's son. 

Being pent from liberty, as I am now, 

I/two such tnurderers as yourselves came to you, 

Would not entreat for life t 

My/ritnd I spy. Sec. 

They confess that this "involves a rather violent trans- 
position;" but they (the Cambridge edd.) consider that 
the lines in F. 1 which are omitted by Q. 1 "appear to be 
Shakespeare's," and therefore should not be left out of 
the text But it certainly seems as If the additional lines 
belong to another version of the speech; and the printing 
of the two together, which can only be accomplished by 
some such manipulation of the lines as suggested by Tyr- 
whitt, is a mistake, dramatically speaking. The lines 
given by Q. 1 are quite sufficient: but, at the same time, 
it Is possible that the reading of F. 1 m«y be the right 


one, according to one of the versions which the author 
had written; and that the lines beginning IFAtcA i^yoy, 
and ending in my distress, were intended to be spoken by 
Clarence as a rapid and passionate appeal, which did not 
admit of the first murderer answering at otace; and that 
the author intended the latter to pause in his answer, a» 
if reflecting. This view is supported by the form of his 
answer in F. 1: 

Relent! NO : T is cowardly and womanish. 

which seems to indicate that he was rather moved bjr 
Clarence's appeal at first, and hesitated for a moment 
whether to listen to him or not. 

204 «. Line 271: / 'U drown you in the malmsey-bvtt 
iritAin.— Q. 1 reads: 

lie chop thee in the roalmesey But, in the next roooi; 

see above, note 192. 

ACT II. Scene 1. 

S06. —With regard to this scene it is worth noting thst 
scene 1 of The True Tragedy of Richard III. 1504 (see 
Introduction, p. 474), was very probat>ly the foundation 
of the present scene in Shakespeare's play. The old plsj 
of Richard III. begins with a kind of prologue between 
" Truth " and " Poetrie" and the Ohost of Clarence. Theo 
comes the scene which corresponds with this one, with 
the stage-direction Bnter Edward the Fourth, Lord Htut- 
ings. Lord Marcus(i.e. Lord Dorset^ and Elizabeth (i.e. tht 
Princess Elizabeth). To them Richard (see Hazlitt's Shsk 
Lib. vol. i. pt. 2, pp. 51-64). It will be observed that the 
older author is right, according to Sir Thomas More's his- 
tory, in making reconciliation between Lord Hasting* sod 
Dorset, and not between Hastings and Rivers. The fol- 
lowing passages show some faint resemblance between 
this scene in the old play and the corresponding scene in 
Shakespeare's play: 

I could neuer get any lege of amity betwixt you {C't supra, p. 541 
But now through intretie of my Prince, 

I knit a leaguk of amitie for euer. 

— Vt sufrm, p. 561 

You peers, continue this united league (Rich. III. ii. t. »L 
But now vpon aleageance to my Prince. I y^nm ferfttt lorn. 
And true friendship for euer. —Vt su^rm, p. 57. 

So prosper I, as I swear perfect love. 

^Rich. III. iL >. rf. 
Hast. If I Lord Hastings falcifie my league of friendship 
Vowde to Lord Marcus. I craue con/Usion. 
Mar. Like oath take I, and craue am/^usion. 
King. Con/itsion. — Vt suprm, ^ si- 

Lest he that is the supreme King of kings 
Coti/bund your hidden falsehood (Rich. III. H. 1. 13. i4 

The scene in the old play, which is much longer than tlie 
corresponding one in Shakespeare's play, ends with tbe 
death of the king; and Richard, though he is pres«)t« 
does not speak. We have given these slight parsHeb 
from the two scenes to prove how very little oae Shake- 
speare made of the old play. King Edward's qwediet is 
the latter are evidently taken from the king's tpeedhei si 
given in Sir Thomas More's history. 

This scene is founded on a portion of that same histcMry 
(pp. 12, 13), which was copied, almost word for word. ^ 
Holinshed, Hall, and the other chroniclera. It is too loof 
to quote in its entirety; but we give tome of the moit 


ACT II. Scene 1. 


ACT II. Scene 1. 

important pAMaget. "Bat in hit Uite aickenease. when 
he« perceiiied hia. natarall ttrengtiie loo sore enfebled, 
that he« dytpayred all recouerye, then hee consyderynge 
the yoathe of his chyldren, albeit hee notbynge letse 
mistnuted then that that happened, yet well foreaeynge 
that manye harmes myghte growe by theyr debate, whyle 
the youth of hyt children shoulde lacke diacrecion of 
tbemaelf and good cotinuiyle, of their frendes, of whiche 
either party thold counsayle for their owne commodity 
and rather by pleaannte aduyte too wynne themielfe 
fauonr, then by profitable aduertisemente to do the chil- 
dren good, he called lome of them before him that were 
at Tariaance, and in especyall the Lorde Marques Dor- 
aette the Queues Sonne by her fyrste housebande, and 
Richarde the Lorde Hastynges, a noble man, than lorde 
chaumberlayne agayne whoroe the Queue specially 
;n^dged. for the great fauoure the kyng bare hym, and 
also for that shee thoughte hym secretelye familyer with 
the kynge in wanton coumpanye. . . . When these lordes 
with dinerse other of bothe the parties were comme in 
presence, the kynge lif tinge vppe hiroselfe and vndersette 
with pfllowes, as it is reported on this wyse sayd vnto 
them." Then follows the speech, which is probably, most 
of it, the inrention of Sir Thomas More; for the example 
of Liry and Tacitus was followed by many of our old 
Ki^flish historians. 

Line 4: From my Redeemer to rkdkkm me hence. — 
Pope substituted reeaU for redeem, an alteration which 
Walker also rather faTours, bat which seems unnecessary. 

107. Line 5 : And MOW IN peace my totU shall part to 
heaven.— 8o Qq.; ¥t. read '*tnore to peace." Q 1, Q. 2 
have "part /row heaven;" other old copies have the 
reatling in the teii 

Line 7: Riven and Haetings.—Ft. have " Doraet and 
Rice re." According to Sir Thomas More (see above, note 
206) it should be " Dorget and UaeHnge." But as F. 1 gives 
the next speech to Rivere and the following one to Hoe- 
tinge, we must presume that the reading of Qq. is the 
riKht one. 

Line 8: Di$»emhle not your hatred, neear your love. 
—This line is variously explained; the meaning seems 
pretty clear: "Do not cherish secret hatred in your 
hearts while yon pretend to be reconciled; but solemnly 
and sincerely swear to be friends." 

no. Line 18: Madam, yourve^ are not exempt IN THIS. 
-Ff. Q 7, Q. 8 have •* ie not;" other old copies "are not." 
Q(|. have " in this;" Ff. *'/rmn thia" 

Sll. Line fS: Dorvet, embrace him:-'Haeting», love lord 
fttarqueee.—Tht arrangement of this line is Bowe's, which 
Ff. divide Into two lines; omitted altogether by Qq. 

SIS. Line 28: And ao twear /.— Qq. add my lord. 

ns. line dO: wiFK'8 aUie$.—Ft. Qq. both read unves. 

tl4 Line 33: (7pon your grace, hut itrith tUl duteous love. 
— Qq. read werj weakly: On you or yours. The reading 
** F. 1 wisely avoids the tautology. 

SU Line 39: HUm do 1 beg qf OOD.— Ff. read heaven. 

probably on account of the act passed in the reign of 
James I. (See II. Henry VI. note 805.) 

316. Line 40: When I am cold in ZEAL to you or yours. 
—So Qq. ; Ff. have love. 

817. Line 44: To make the PERFECT period qf this peace. 
—So Qq.; Ff. read Messed, 

318. Line 45: 

And, in good time, here comes the noble duke. 
Enter Qlobter, attended by Batclitf. 

Ff. have : 

And in good time, 

Heere comes Sir Richard Ratdijfi, and the Dulce. 

Enter Ratdifft, ^nd Gioster. 

We give line 45 as in Qq., which have the stage-direc- 
tion Enter Oloster. We have followed F. 1 in making 
Batcliff accompany Gioster here, though he does not 
speak. We thoroughly agree with Spedding's observa- 
tions on this passage [New Shak. Soc. Transactions, 1875 
(pt. 2. p. 15)] : " Here the alteration in the stage-direction 
was no doubt intended. Sir Bichard Batcliffe is described 
by Sir T. More in his history as one ' whose service the 
Protector specially used in that counsel ' [the murder of 
the Lords at PomfretJ ' and the execution of such lawless 
enterprises, as a man who had been long secret with him,' 
Ac. He had an important part in the action of the play, 
though he scarcely speaks a dozen lines, all through. 
Shakspere probably thought it advisable to bring him 
and his relation to Bichard into prominence, that when 
he appears presently in the exercise of his office the spec- 
tators might know who he was. Therefore, though he is 
a mute in this scene, he was to come in with Bichard; 
and ' Batcliffe,' or 'Sir Bichard Batcliffe,' was written in 
the margin, meaning it to be added to the stage-direction, 
' Enter Glocester.' ^ The printer or the transcriber (for we 
do not know in what shape the copy went to the press) 
mistook it for an insertion meant for the text, and thrust 
it into Buckingham's speech; where it disorders the 
metre and does not come in at all naturally." 

819. Line 49: Brother, we have done deeds o/ charity. 
— So Qq. ; Ff. have Gioster. 

380. Line 51: terongineensed.—y oi hyphened in Qq. or 
Ff. ; but it evidently should be regarded as one word. 

331. Line 52: A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege. 
—So Qq. ; Ff . read lord. 

i. Lines 55. 56 : 

Hold me a foe; 

If I unwittinolt, or in my rage. 
These two lines are printed as one line in Qq. and Ff. 
The latter have unwillingly, an obvious misprint 

Line 58: Bt any in this presence. —So (^i. ; Ff . read 
" To any;" the To having probably slipped up, by mis- 
take, from the line below. 

381 Lines 66. 67 : 

Of you. Lord Rivers,— and. Lord Orey, of you, 
That all tcithout deeert have froum'd on me. 

1 In Q. I the sta|;e-direction is Enter Glocest. In that edition, up 
to the end of act. iv. sc. i. Richard is always called Ghctster. 


ACT ii. SoeiM 1. 


ACT II. SoeM 1. 

We lutTe followed, in this paMsge, Q. 1. In V. 1 the pM- 
Mge stands thus, the last Une having been apparently 

inserted by mistake: 

Of you and you, Lord Riturs and of Dorttt, 
That all without desert haue frown'd on me: 
Of you Lord If'atduiU, and Lord SaUfs at you. 

Spedding defends the reading of K. 1, and would adhere 
to it on the ground that, as the line stands in Qq., Richard 
speaks of two persons Rivers and Orey as of aU; whereas 
he ought to have said "both of you." But putting aside 
the fact that all is sometimes used for both (see II. Henry 
VI. note 120X surely it might be allowed to stand here 
as referring generally to the queen's kindred. But Sped- 
ding does not notice the fact that, virtually. Lord Rivers, 
Lord Woodville. and Lord Scales are the same person 
(see IL Henry VI. note 12X The stage-direction before 
this scene in F. 1 is : 
Enter the Kit^ ticke, the Queene, Lord ilarqueeee Dor- 
set, Riuen, Uastinge, Cateeby, Buckingham, WooduiU. 
but the last-named personage, Woodville, is not included 
in the Dramatis Person* as given in our edition, or in 
any other. The fact of it is. probably, that Shake- 
speare—small blame to him— got confused as to the dif- 
ferent members of the Woodville family. Mr. Daniel's 
explanation of the passage in his Introduction to Q. 1 is 
as follows: " This mistake in making Rivers three sepa- 
rate persons, was evidently corrected when the play was 
revised for the Q. version, the 'Wr)odville' line struck 
out altogether, and its form given to tlie first line as we 
find it in the Q.: 'Gray,' Dorset's younger brother, being 
substituted for ' Dorset ' because he was. in history as in 
the plsy, associated in death with his uncle Rivers; for 
the same reason in fact which caused the substitution of 
' Vaughan' for 'Dorset' in I. 8. 333" [Shakespere-Quartu 
Facsimiles, No. 11 (p. ivL)]. As Mr Daniel points out 
in a foot-note, F. 1 always speaks of brothers, though only 
one brother, the above-mentioned Earl Rivers, is intro- 
duced. " In two places in the Q., I. iiL 67 and IV. iv. 380. 
brothers is corrected to brother, though in the other four 
places this correction has been overlooked" (Cf supra, 

Lines 6^72.— These four lines have been quoted by 
Milton in his Iconoclastes. where he begins by saying 
tKat "The poets, and some English, have been in this 
point so mindful of decorum, as to put never more pious 
words in the mouth of any person, than of a tyrant" 
From a dramatic point of view these four lines express, 
admirably, the iniquitous hypocrisy of the speaker; the 
first three being spoken with an affectation of radiant 
l>enevolence, which, like every other kind of sentiment, 
Richard, who was a bom actor, could most perfectly 
assume; then a pause, the eyes cast down; and the last 
line spoken in the softest, but at the same time clearest 

8S6. Line 81: Who knows not he is dead! who knows he 
utf -Th\a line is printed as two lines in F. 1, and given 
by mistake to the king; Q. 1 rightly makes Rivers the 

a87. Lines 88. 89: 

And thdt a winffsd Mercury did bear; 
Some tardy cripple bore the countermand. 


The proverbial expression here alluded to ia found in 
Drayton's Mortlmeriados, The Lamentable ctaill warres 
of Edward the Second and the Bairons, 1606: 

ni newes hath wings, and with the wtede doth go; 

Comfort's a Cripple, and comes encr slow. 

— Part ii. ttuua 4^ 

Steevens quotes the above lines, which MaloiM says are 
only to be found in the edition of 1619. llie title Mor- 
timeriados was dropped in the later editJona, and the 
poem itself altered; but the above lines will be found in 
the editions of 1602 and 160S, at end of stanza S7 of 

Line 90: too LAO to see him frtiried.— This word is 
used adverbially in one other passage in Shakespeare, 
coupled with of, viz. in Lear, i. 2. 5. 6: 

some twelre or fourteen moonshines 
A/r^ </a brother. 

S29. Line 92: Nearer in bloody thoughts, BUT not in 
blood.— ^ Qq.; Ff. have and. 

no. Line 94: Enter STAVLET.—Qq. have JBnIrr DsiBT: 
Ff. Earl of Dkrbt. We have followed Theobald in snl>- 
stituting Stanley throughout See note 106, above. 

SSI. Line 96: / PRAT THEE, peace.— ^ Qq.; F. I has 
''1 prithee." 

I. Lines 09-101: 
The FORFEIT, sovereign, of my servants life; 
Who slew to-day a riototts gentleman 
Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfotk. 
We cannot find any historical foundation for this inci- 
dent. Johnson explains forfeit here as " the remission 
of the forfeit" (Var. Ed. vol v. p. 74). But perhaps it 
has the same sense as in The Merchant of Venice, iv. LS7: 

To have the due ^nA/orftit of my bond. 

The life of the servant was forfeited, and it is that life 
which Stanley asks as a boon. 

Lines 102 et se^.— This beautiful passage wasevi* 
dehtly suggested to Shakespeare by a short passsge ia 
Sir Thomas Mere's history when, speaking of Clarence'i 
death, he says : " whose death kyng Edwarde (al beit br 
comniaunded it) when he wist it was done, pitiouslj b^ 
wailed and sorrowfully repented" (p. 8). This is slighUr 
expanded by Holinshed (voL iii. p. 846): " But sore it ii. 
that although king Edward were consenting to hisdesUi: 
yet he much did both lament his infortunate cbsarf. 
& repent his sudden execution: insomuch that vhro 
anie person sued to him for the pardon of mslefseinn 
condemned to death, he would accustomablie ssie, * 
openlie speake: ' Oh infortunate brother, for whose life 
not one wonld make sute.' Openlie and apparsBtlie 
meaning by such words that by the meanesof some of tie 
nobilitie he was deceined and brought to confusioo." 

234. Line 108: And shall THAT tongue give pardmtes 
slave f—Qii, very weakly, read " the same tongue." 

836. Line 107: bai»e me be advis'd.—So Qq.; Ff. ksw 

836. Lines 111. 112: 

Who told VIC in the field at Teteksbury, 
When Oxford had me doten, he reseu'd me. 

7T II. 8o0oe S. 


ACT II. Scene 2. 

tere is no histcwical fomidatioD for this incideat. It 
onot tMTe taken place at Tewksbnnr; Init might, poaai- 
f , a* ttie Battle of Baniet, whwe the main hody of King 
Iward'a amy was commanded by himaelf and Clareuce. 
iord made his escape after this battle, bnt was not 
sMnt at Tewksbory at all. 

Who taid nte, ffhen tM both lay in timJMd 
Fraun almoH to dtath, how he did lap me 
Bsen in his gamunU, and did give hiinee{f, 
All thin and naked, to the numb cold night f 

ii» incident would appear to be Shakespeare's own in- 


Lines 133. 134 : 

Come, Hattinge, help me to my closet. — 

Ah, poor Oarenee ! 
inted as one line in Qq. ; Pope, who is followed by some 
Itors, transfers the Ah to the end of line 183, a most 
retched and unnecessary device for completing the 
oper number of tetX in that line. 

Line 135: This is the fruit </ ras&iieM/— So Qq. ; 
. bare/riMli. 

ACT II. Scene 2, 

ND. Line 1: Enter the Duchess of York, with a Son 
d Daughter of Clarence.— Qq. have Enter Dutches of 
vrke, teith Clarence children; Ft. Enter the old Dutchesse 
Torke, with the two children of Clarence. There is no 
iscHi why the names of thMe two children should not 
pear (see notes 4,3tfX except perhaps that as there are two 
her characters of the same name, vix. Edward, Prince 
Wales, and Queen Margaret, it might cause some con- 
lion. The speeches given to these children have in Q. 1 
e prefix Boy and Oerl respectively : in F. 1 the first 
eech baa the prefix Edward, all his other speeches have 
e prefix Boy. while Margaret's speeches have the prefix 
xngK; we have, with most editors, adopted the prefix 
San to the speeches of Edward, and Daughter (Daugh.) 
the apeecbea of Margaret. 

Ml. Line 7: If that our noUe father be oitiw.— So Qq.; 
my ci the various readings in Qq. are corrections of 
■nimaiilral errors in F. L 

Mt. liM 8: My pretty couBOflL— This word is used of 
lioos degrees of relationship; here it = grandchildren. 
is used us ^nephew frequently, e.g. in John, iiL 8. 71; 
s ni»ee frequently, e.g. in Bich. II. ii. 2. 105 ; as = 
wU, twice in Twelfth Night. L 5. 131, v. 1. 813; as 
vther-in-law once in 1. Henry IV. ill. L 51 ; and as grand- 
Ud here and below, 11 4. 0, and Othello, i. 1. 113. It is 
10, as well as the abbreviation eoz, used by princes 
wards other princes, or noblemen, whom they wished 
distinguish by their favour; an instance of which will 
found in this play, ilL 4. 87, and (as coz) in L Henry 
'. L 1. 91. 

Ml. Line 12 : Then, grandam, you eonolude that he is 
ad— So Qq.; Ft read "you conclude, (my grandam)." 

m Line 18: 7^ king MT unele is to blame for THIS.— 
Qq.; Ff. read "mine uncle;" "fortf." 

Line 16: Aiulso will /.—So Kf.; omitted in Qq. 

M6. Line 18: Incapable and tiuUlow innooewts.— This 
word occurs in the same sense, i.e. ** not ahle to compre- 
hend," in Hamlet, iv. 7. 179: 

As one MMca/tMe of ber oam distress : 

though Schmidt gives the word there a different mean- 
ing, "not receptive, not susceptible," while in the pas- 
sage in the text he explains it, "not equal, unable." 
Compare also Hamlet, ill 2. 18: *' capable of nothing but 
inexplioable dumb-shows and noise." 

M7. Line 26: And he would love me dearly as uis child. 
— SoQq.; Ft read "a child." 

SiB. Line SO: Tetfrom my DUOS he drew not this deceit. 
—This word, which has now a coarse and vulgar signifi- 
cance, had no such offensive association in Shakespeare's 
time. Malone gives a quotation from "Constable's Son- 
nets, 16mo. 1594, Sixth Decade, Sonn. 4: 

And on thy dug's the queene of love doth tell. 
Her godheads power in scrowles of my desire." 

— Var, Ed. vol. xix. p. 78; 

where it is evidently used of a woman's breast. Baret in 
ills Alvearie gives "Duo breast, teat, or pap." It would 
not now be ever used except of the nipple, never of the 
whole of a woman's breast. 

M8. Lines 38. 39: 

Duch. What means this scene of rude impatience f 

Q. Eliz. To make an ACT of tragic violence. 

A ct has here its stage seuse, evidently suggested by the 
scene in the line above. Compare King John, ii. 1. 376: 
At your industrious scenes and acts of death. 

850. Line 46: To his luw kingdom af PERPETUAL REST. 
— So Qq.; Ff. have nere-changiiig night; Collier " nere- 
changing light " Keightley conjectured " perpetual light. " 
In this case the reading of Qq. seems decidedly the pre- 
ferable one. It is very probable that the night of F. 1 is 
a misprint for light. 

Ml. Une M: And liv'd BV looking on his IMAOES.— So 
Qq. Ff. have with. Compare Eape of Lucrece, 1758: 

If in the child the father's image lies. 

858. Lines 51-54.— This passage bears a remarkable re- 
semblance to a passage in the Rape of Lucrece, 1758- 


Poor broken glass, 1 often did behold 

In thy sweet semblance my old age new bom ; 

But now that fair fresh mirror, dim and old, 

Shows me a bare-bon'd death by time outworn : 

O, from thy cheelu my imai^e thou hast torn. 

And shiver'd all the beauty of my glass. 

That I no more can see what once I was. 

868. Lines 60, 61: 

Thine being but a moiety of irty moan— 

To over-go thy plaints and droicn thy cries! 

In line 60 Q. 1 has "of my grief," instead of "of my 
moan; " but in spite of the alliteration we prefer the read- 
ing of F. 1 here. It will be observed that the whole of 
the next twenty or thirty lines of this scene are full of 
affectation, and therefore the alliteration was probably 
intentional. In line 61 we have adopted the reading of 


ACT II. Sonne 2. 


ACT II. »oim« t. 

the Qq. in preference to that of Ff., which have woe$ 

instead of plainU; became " To otci^ thy woet," la an 

unpleaaant Jingle, much wone than any alliteration. For 

the use of moan in the general sense of torrowi, compare 

Rape of Lacrece, 797, 796: 

Mingling my talk with tears, my grief with groans. 
Poor wasting monuments of lasting moans; 

also Sonnet xxx. 10. 11: 

And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er 
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan; 

and below, in this sense, line 113: " heavy mutual load of 

264. Line 69: That I, being govem'd by the WATKRT 
MOON.— This has been generally explained to mean " the 
moon that controls the tides;" but it may refer to what is 
commonly called " a wet moon. " Compare Mids. Night's 
Dream, ii. 1. 103: "the moon, the govemeu o/Jlood§;" 
and see note 95 of that play. 

856. Line 81 : Their woe* are PARCELL'D, min» is OEN- 
ERAL.— The sense of this is: "Their woes are divided 
among them, that is, each has his own particular woe; 
but mine is general and includes all their jparficular ones." 
The verb, parcel, is only used by Shakespeare in one other 
passage, in Antony and Cleopatra, v. 2. 163: "parcel the 
sum of my disgraces." 

266. Line 83: I for a Clarence teeep, go doth not she,— So 
Qq. ; i\ 1 has weepes. 

267. Lines 84, 85: 

These babes for Clarence voeep, AND 80 DO I; 
T FOR AN Edward weep, so do not they. 

In F. 1 these two lines are given as one line: 

These Babes for Clarence weepe, so do not they; 

the intermediate part having been evidently omitted by 
mistake. The reading in the text is that of Q. 1. All the 
other Qq. have and so do they. 

266. Lines 8&-100.— These lines are omitted in Qq. 

260. Line 103: But lume can CURE THEIR Jiarms by wail- 
ing them.— Ho Qq ; Ff. have *'help our harms." 

260. Line 117: The broken rancour of your high-swoln 
HEARTS.— So Qq. ; Ff. have hates. 

261. Line 118: But lately SPLINTER'D, knU and join'd 

together.— ThiB seems a rather unusual use of the word 

splintered =" joined together by splints," instead of 

•' broken into small pieces." Compare Othello, it 3. 329: 

" this broken joint between you and her husband entreat 

her to splinter; " and Beaumont and Fletcher's Maid in 

the Mill, ii. 3: 

those men have broken credits, 
I.oose and dismember'd faiths, my dear Antonio. 
That splinter 'em with vows, 

— Works, vol. il p. 585. 

I. Line 121: Forthuiith from Ludlow the young prince 
be FET. — For this old form of the participle fetched, see 
Henry V. iii. i. 18: 

Whose blood i%/tf from fathers of war-proof 

Compare also II. Henry VL ii. 4. 38: "deepfet groans;" 
Andfar-fet in the same play, iii 1. 293. 


Ludlow is situated in the southern part of Shropahire. 
close to the borders of Herefordshire, and near those of 
Wales. Edward IV. repaired the castle aa a residence 
for his eldest son, the Prince of Wales; and there the 
Court of the Marches, which transacted the business of 
the principality, was held. The young prince held s 
miniature court there, and had his own counciL The ob- 
ject of his residence was to foster the loyalty of the Welsh. 
It was at Ludlow Castle that^ in 1684, when the Earl of 
Bridgewater was lord president of the Marchea, Milton's 
Masque of Comus was first performed. Here also Butler 
wrote the first part of his Hudibras. 

268. Line 128: Why with some little train, my Lord 0/ 
Buckingham}— Trinted inFf. as two lines. Qq. omit from 
123 to 140. 

261 Line 127: By how much the state's green andyet un- 
govem'd.— F. 1 has "the estate is green," making an awi[« 
wardly long line. We have adopted Walker's very simple 

266. Lines 134-139.— Capell suggested that this speech 
should be given to Hastings, because he was one of the 
Protector's party. Certainly it would come more appro- 
priately from him. The next speech, line 140, Capell gave 
to Stanley. Perhaps, however, the dramatist was ri^t 
in allowing one of the queen's party to consent to the sr* 
rangement proposed by Oloster, as of course they vers 
not supposed to have any suspicion that an attack ww 
going to be made on the prince. 

266. Line 142: Who they shall be that straight shaU pstt 
to Ludlow.— Here, as in line 153 below, Ff., by a mii- 
print, have London instead of Ludlow. 

267. Line 143: [To Duchess] Madam,— and you, my sis- 
ter [To Queen],— irtU you go I— Thi% is the reading of Ft: 
most editors adopt that of Qq. "Madam,— and yon m; 
m4)ther." Dyce objects to the reading of Ff.. im the 
ground that Oloster would appear to be wanting in due 
respect to the queen if he addressed his another first; 
but in line 101 above he addresses the queen aa«u(rr[Qq 
read madam], and in line 104 above both Qq. and Ft 
have madam, my mother. There is no disrespect to tbe 
queen (who was not, be it remembered, queen regnsst) 
in Oloster addressing his mother^ who was much the 
older lady, first; and the use of the term sister seenii to 
be intentional, Richard's object being to inspire EUssbeth 
with confidence by seeming to treat her with a brother"! 
affection, and not ceremoniotuly as a subject 

Line 144 : To give your censures in this btuiiutt 

- After this line Q. 1 inserU : 

jIhs. ^^'ith all our hearts; 

which speech is generally assigned by modem editors to 
Queen Elizabeth and Duchess as a duet. Ans. nigbt 
have been a misprint torAmbo; but, dramatically tpeslt- 
ing, it is much better that the queen and duchess iboold 
make their exit without saying anything. 

269. Line 149: To part the queen's proud kindred /<^ 
the PRINCE.— Qti. have king; but see lines 121, 122, s^ 
139 above, where the younj; Edward is called the pri»« 
rightly, as he had not yet In. en crowned king. Bdwsrd 
IV. is referred to throughout as the young j»niMS. 

ACT II. Scene 8. 


ACT II. Sceae 4. 

ACT II. Scene 8. 

f70. Line 4: lU neum, by V lady; seldom comet the better. 
—A proverbial qaotation to be found in Bohn's Hand- 
book of Proverbs (p. 190^ in the form, " Seldom comet a 
better." Reed quotes from "The English Courtier and 
Country Gentleman, 4to, bL L 1686, sign. B : '— as the 
proverbe sairth, eeldame eome the better. Vol, That pro- 
verb indeed ia auncient, and for the most part true,* Ac." 
(Var. £d. voL xix. p. 86). 

STL Line 6: 1 fear, I /ear 't will prove a OIDDT world.— 
.So ¥1.; Q. 1 lias trovblotu; the other Qq. trouble»ome. 
Compare line 9 below : 

Then, masters, look to see a traud/cus world. 

fTS. Line 11: Woe to that layul that '« govern' d by a child! 
— Compare Ecclesiastes x. 16: "Woe to thee, O land, 
when thy king is a child," quoted by Buckingham, in 
More, p. lis. 

278. Lines 12-15: 

In him there is a hope of government, 
Whieht in his nonage, council under him. 
And, in higfuU and ripened yeare himself. 
So doubt, shall then, and till then, govern well. 
Seymour would propose to read "counsel under him;" 
but this alteration is not necessary. The speaker is 
merely expressing his belief that the country may enter- 
tain the hope of getting good government from the young 
prince, first through his council, and then through himself. 
It will be noticed that in line 14 ripened has not the final 
ed elided. It is possible that this may be an oversight 
in F. 1; bat even when pronounced like a dactyl it does 
not injure the metre. 

tn. Line 90: This siekly land might solace as be/ore.— 
For a similar use of this word =" to take comfort," not 
to give it, which is the more usual sense, compare Cymbe- 
line, L 6l 86, 87 : 

To hide me from the radiant sun and solace 
V the doBiseoa by a snuflT. 

f7S. Lines 8fl^ 87 : 

All may be weU; but, if God sort it so, 
'T it more than we deserve, or I expect 
C4>mp«« ICarcbant of Venice, ▼. 1. 132: " But Gk>d tort 


tl§. Line 89: You cannot EBA80R ALMOST with a man.— 
Compare Merchant of Venice, ii & 27: "I reason' d with 
a Frenchman yesterday, " and King John, iv. 8. 29 : 

Onr Krieft. and not our mnnnen, reason now. 
Almosi Is generally explained here as meaning even. Com- 
pare John, Iv. 8L 43, CoriolaniiB, L 2. 84, 26, and below, ill. 

&. 36: 

Would you ioMclae, or aimmst beUcve. 

Bat hare It sssms to b« used very much as we me teartely 

= " T<Ni eannot talk seareeiy with a man," Ac. 

tn. Line 43: Sntuingda/ng9rt.—%o^.** Pur- 
suing danger." 

ACT II. Scene i. 

m. Eater the Abcrbibhop of York, Ac.-^ Ft. ; Qq. 
eall the AiehMshop Cardinai, and put the prefix Car. to 
all his ■pesches, 
VOL. lU. 

879. Lines 1, 2 : 

Last night, I hear, they rested at Northampton; 
At Stony-Stratford they do lie to-night. 

We have adopted Capell's reading here. Q. 1 reads (which 
other Qq- substantially follow): 

Last night I heare they lay at Northhampton. 
At Stonistratford will they be toni^'ht. 

F. 1 reads (so other Ff.): 

Last night I hear they lay at Stony Stratford, 
And at Northampton they do rest to night. 

There has been much discussion over these two lines. 
It is evident that they were altered in F. 1 for the sake 
of the metre; for. though, accidentally, the movements 
of the prince and his pai*ty were thus made to correspond 
with the facts of liistory, one cannot believe that the 
alteration was made with that motive. What really took 
place was that the prince and his party had got from 
Ludlow as far as Stony Stratford, which is one stage 
nearer London on the road to London, than Northamp- 
ton, when Gloucester and Buckingham with their party 
came to Northaniptou the same night as the prince, with 
Lord Orey and Sir Thomas Vaughan, reached Stony Strat- 
ford. Lord Rivers and his attendants had remained at 
Northampton, intending to follow the king on the mor- 
row; but Oloster surrounded the inn where they lay, 
and would not allow any one to pass out of the town 
towards Stony Stratford without his permission. The 
next morning Oloster and Buckingham, with Lord 
Rivers, went to Stony Stratford, having put Lord Rivera 
" in ward." Having arrived at Stony Stratford, they im- 
mediately arrested Lord Richard Orey and Sir Thomas 
Vaughan in the king's presence, and brought the king 
back to Northampton. It is impossible the archbishop 
should have known of these events; and therefore he 
would not represent the prince and his party as going 
back one stage on their journey, especially as, in the next 
line, he says they would be in London in two days. Ca- 
pell's emendation of the text seems the most preferable. 
Unless we pronounce Northampton, Ndrth&mptdn, the 
line as it stands in Q<i. will not scan at all. 

960. Line 18: ** Small herbs have grace, great weeds do 
groie opoe^."— This is an expansion of the well-known 
proverb " III weeds grow apace " (see Bohn's Handbook 
of Proverbs, p. 107). There was a corresponding proverb 
both in French and Italian. 

881. Line 86 : A PARLOUS ftoy. —Qq. have perilous, of 
which parlous is only a popular corruption. It is often 
used in a rather contemptuous sense. 

I. Line 86: Good madam, be not angry with the child. 
—Given by Qq. to Cardinal; Ff. have the prefix Dut for 
Duchess, which we see no reason to alter. 

Line 87: Pitchers have «ar«.— Compare Taming of 
Shrew, iv. 4. 52, where the same expression occurs. 

L Line 38: Here comes a messenger. What news} — 
So Ff.; Qq. have (substantially) 

Here comes your sonne, Lo: M. Dorset. 
What newes Lo: Marques? 

and instead of Enter a Messenger above, have Enter 
Dorset; but the alteration of F. 1 is a very sensible one^ 

113 a 

ACT li. Scene 4. 


ACT IlL Scene L 

as the speeches assigned to Doruet could hare been ^ven 
by a nuutnifer^ and are eviilently tttiq;x>8ed to come from 
an inferior and not from an eqaal. 

Lines 42, 43: 
Lord Rioerg and Lord Orep art tent to Fomfret, 
With them Sir Thomat Vangktm, pritonert. 

According to Sir Thomas More (p. 28) Gloucester "sent 
the lord Riuers and the Lorde Ridiarde with Sir Thomas 
Vaughan into the Xorthe conntrey into diuen places to 
prison, and afterward al to Pomfrait, where they were 
in conclusion beheaded. "* The text is printed as in Qq.; 
Ff. print as three lines : 

\jatd Riaers, and Grey. 

Are sent to Pbmfiret, and with them 

S«r Thonaa Vaufhan, Ptfaoners. 

286. Line 45 : Q. Eliz. For what offence f—C^q. give this 
line to Cardinal; Ff. to Archbishop; but setting aside the 
fact that both Qq. and Ff. have "my gracious lady" in 
line 48 below, the epithet gracious has been applied to 
the queen above (Line 21), and therefore the supposition 
that lady was a misprint in F. 1 for lord can hardly be 

Mrr. Unta 51,52: 

Intuiting tyranny begine to JKT 
Uptn the innoeerU and awelett throne. 

Ft. hare jut. Compare Titus Andrunicus (tL 1. 64). " to 
jet upon a prince's right" (Ff. read eet). (See Comedy of 
Errors, note 35.) There is no instance T can find ot jut 
upon used in this sense; but the words jet and jut are 
both derived from the same source, the French jeter. 
In fact, Skeat considers jut merely a corruption of jet. 
so that practically they may be said to be the same; and 
it merely comes to the question which form of the word 
is more commonly used in this sense, namely, " to strut 
with a conceited air." 

MS. Line 61: C<Minoetr-6fotr».— For this sense of clean 
see Rich. IL liL 1. 10; and for oter-bUntn, see same play, 
iii. 2. 190. 

Line 66: we will to SAKCTUARY.— This was the 
boilding within the precincts of the Abbey, and stood 
where Westminsler Hospital now standa. Some think 
ail the precincts were included in the term tanetuary. 
It retained its privilege of protecting criminals and 
debtors till 1632 (See III. Henry VI. note 264.) Queen 
Elizabeth sought refuge in the eanetuary at Westminster 
in 1470, and Edward V. was bom there. 


no. Line 16: God keep me from /alee friends! but they 
were none.— We have marked this line to be spoken Aside, 
in accordance with the conjecture of the Cambridge edd. 

891. Line S4: tin good fime.— This is equivalent to 
the French apropoe. 

898. Line 39: Expect him here; but if she be obdArate.— 
Qq. Ff . have " A tkon expect him. ** We have omitted the 
aiuni, following Steevens. 

898L Use 44: tenteUtt-obstinmte.—^iot hyphened inQq. 


Ff. Staunton suggests nudle ts (At H nate; but tenteless ii 
used in the sense of "unreasonable." Compare Comedy 
of Errors, tr. 4. 25, and Taming of tbt Shrew, f . 2. 87. 

Line 46: Too eeren¥miou$ tmd trmditiomal; i.e. "Too 
much attached to forms and ce remon ies, and to tadi- 


889. Line 46: Weigh it but with THS VlluflwrKW oP TMB 
AGK.— This phrase seems to nean that the age was om 

of unuiiual violence; a time for Una and TigDrDiif actitm 
rather than senile adherence to law and form. 

I. Line 52 : Ther^ore, in mine opinion, cannot hare 
it— Qq. F. 1 have "And therefore;^ F. 2 rightly omits 

887. Line 56: But safietuary-childreu NE'ER tiU now.— 
Qq. have "f^ever till now." 

Line 63: Where it SBEM8 best unto your royal te^. — 
So Q. 1, Q. 2; the other Qq. have thinktt; Ft think it 
If the latter reading thinkst is to be retained in the text, 
then it must be omitted, and the word printed thimi!s't=^ 
thinks it; for the verb would be then naed faupersonally, 
as in Hamlet, v. 2. 63 : 

Does it not. thinJts't thee, stand me now upon. 

where many editors wrongly print think'st, as if it wen 
contracted from thinkesL Compare the common nae of 
methinktt i.e. me thinks [itl. 

889. Line 68: / do not like the Tower, of AltT pksat; i t. 
**of aU places."— Compare IL Henry VI. i. 3. 167: "inwt 
nnmeet of any man." 

800. Lines 7U, 71: 

He did, my GRACIOUS lord, begin that place; 
WTii^, since, succeeding aget have RE-XPIFTEU. 

The latter line is a very inliarmonioua one, and would be 
a much l>ctter one if, instead of re-edified, we read rt- 
buUL There is an air of pedantry about re-edified which 
is alien to Shakespeare's uaual style. The word only oc- 
curs in one other passage, in Titus Andronicus, L 1. 351: 
which I have sumptuously re-eiifiett, 

Hanmer also proposes rebuilt. Steevens omitted gracum 
in the line above, commencing line 71 with Sueoeedmg. 
This is a great improvement, fh>m the metrical pdnt of 
view; but the objection to omitting gracious is that 
Buckingham never addrenea the prince, who was ttw 
titular king, simply as my lord, Gloater once addresses 
him as such, in line 17; but then Gloeter was a prince of 
the blood royal, and had the right so to do. 

80L Line 77: As 't were rstail'd to all jNxcfrrt/y.— Min- 
sheu (edn. 1617) gives "to Retail or Retel^renumerarr." 
The word is gen«rally derived tron the <rfd French rt- 
tailler=to cat into small pieees. Tooke lajre: "To scfl 
by tale is to sell by nnmamtion, not by wei^U or uiaaim i, 
but by the number told; and that retail means— toM oeer 
again " (see Richardson, tub voce). Compare iv. 4. SSS. 

808. Line 78: Even to the general ALh-ending day — 
So Q. 1; all the rest of the old copies read ending day, 
which makes a very bad line The omission of mil w? 
likeiy arose from the transi*riber mtataking it for the flnsl 
syllable of general, which iw %\\v\\. in Qq. Ft gemtmlL 

^It ii aeamary to HpUia thlt qaJkbU of aHMUft, 
othsnilta Uh «a below hu no farce. Quibbling on [he 
tlouble KDH of Aar^eUrt^ ij. vrltUm ekajrmettrt ui<l 
pecalJU' cliipotlUoM. hl> nmark would ntn, flnt. u 
wn abTliiiH to all. Is fttme, tocli ■• Jalln* Crmt't, liv- 
ing long wfthaae U17 wrfttvu recoitl; teeondTy, tn hiB 
ova idBd, H tftUm to Uw Fiteca. wko. tf h* but hul 


ACT Ifl. SeeiH I. 
B llitald«I to be tti* 

Trial ol Tnuan, UMlia lti« 
laBHol tbaplkimlilncUHtlonUw Fin; HdMtalD 
be noted thil he li the onlj one ol Itw pl^en whB Am* 
not repreeent more (luiL one chuacter. Tbe rritl ol 
TnuDie wu printed In IKI. lu Ukg WUlTo LQm, Um 
flrtt gdlUoD of wUcti wu prinled U HAS, unoos the 
nuiinorEhsp[i;enliNiGaINewfui|U,tlieFia. BuM 
In hi! Alvaute, IS;3, girei nndar Fi«, " ■ rioi In tke pUr " 
We mmf conclude thit the word did not come into Benarm] 
UM, to ttiii Hnic, tOl iibont On middle of tbe (Utaenth 
eintnpj Ben Jonaon In The Derll li an Au 0. I) girea 
Bome vary IntereeCIng paiilculan of tbe Viee. The play 
opebi with a (Hatogue between Satan and Ta^, deaf ribed 
aatlie latter^ DeriL PngaakiUa chlaC: 

m Hted what kind ha would hare, h 

u Pun to teuib Um (p. IB): 

IN. Une R: niH. Me IMtfiirmal Tm; Iniquity.— lu ' 
rpSte at the raloai emendatlaiu In (ha teit tlut have | 
been propoaed fn tlili Ihw, then can he llltte doubt that ' 
tbe eld ™tdM. whlck all eelBelil*, an comet; and Oat 
tv tha rtm. to mtaai tka Ftai. or law caaMltaB of tke 

d lloralltin 


latU I^nouB at one ul 
an nature. Originally 
T Devil: and It would 

geDrnll]' BsORd amoii 

tbe Ficea, or bad qnalltlea of hi 

Ihe Thv waa, probablj, an Inle 

into nuny of lb* oU Uyiteriea. In Uw KJcht Sperl- 
■nen Csi><BB> IHitariaa. fLtcB by Hdm 1b Ua A>elent 
Uyitailca Deaeribed (edn. US31 there la no trace of angr 
«ielicbarv:maathe Tin. In Ujiteij VI., theVlalt of 
itaij to Bliabrth {p. UV Ibara la, at tba cWKlaaioa el 
tbeplaj, kcoub; addna given byeoaof tka parformara. 
hut wbctKat by aayoae who had taken part In the Uya- ' 
tarlea la vary doabtfnL The addrcia lervad to u^ier in 
(he paCHot which foBewed tba Myttanr. and will ba 
(ound BD pp^ K. K of Hoae'a book. In tha nait Uyitary. 
Tba Ilial e( Uary and Jaaaph. Two Datraclorv or Slan- , 
denrai laaai to have aaana chbIo element In them. In I 
(be lutecfn^ ol the Tour gi«ta. one of tha earlleat ^ 
printed IntartadM iB Aa Inallah langnaga, there doe* . 
not aaem to ba anj Fiei. tbonch amoag the uaa at tha 
player* an Senaoal Appetite, and tgnorance. Sanaoal Ap- 
petite perhapa tulOlled tfalt rOle, aa he la treated through- 

ealli, hi tdi work on the te: 
,yw: "E formai ifuin, according to the poet, La one* 
;rferTDtall the functLoniproperandpecullartoama: 
Id he qaetaa a paaaaga In tha CoBady of Bmn. v 

aeil/DrmoI. in a foot-note, at meon- 
npan alto Tinlfth 5ight. H. i ltd: 
ii h cvMcDt to asy/oniMf mpaelty." 

diancter of tba ptae« I> Lwl7 Jbv 
the V'ite. lu the playera' namea [nlliad t 
that duractar li deaeribed aa T\ev)fci; ■ 

H alao III Henry VT. n 

ACT III. ."^oene 1. 


ACT III. Boom 1. 

809. Line 106: ooiotn.— See above, note 242. 

510. Line 110: I pray you, uneU, give me thia—{vllAjUig 
¥Pith Oloster's swordbelt— then touching the dagger] thia 
dagger.— i^. Ft. read: 

I pray you, uncle, {•!*« ">« this dtkgg^f- 

Varioat emendations have been made in order to com- 
plete the metre. Hanmer reads "uncle then;" Kelghtley 
"gentle uncle;" Warburton " this your dagger.** The ob- 
jection is, not to the line being imperfect— we have an 
imperfect line Just below (line 112)— but to its being un- 
rhythmical. The emendation, which we have ventured 
to print, is a very simple one. It is probable that, if 
our conjecture is right, the transcriber might have over- 
looked the repetition of thii. It is pretty certain, whether 
we insert the word this or not, that the speaker was in- 
tended to pause before naming his request; and it would 
seem, from the context, that Oloster had no idea of what 
the little prince was going to ask for, and that he was 
rather relieved when he found that his request was a 
comparatively triRing one. 

511. Lines 113, 114: 

Of my kind uncle, that I know wiil give 't, 
Beit^f but a toy, tphieh is no grief to give. 

This is Lettsom's conjecture. Modem editors usually 
print these lines: 

Of my kind uncle, that I know will give ; 

And beinj; but a toy, which is no grief to give ; 

which is substantially the reading of Qq. F. 1, except that 
they have a comma after give. ¥. 2, F. S, F. 4 omit but, 
and instead of which it read it ig. If we adhere to the 
reading of the old copies, the construction must be ellip- 
tical, being = " it being." I would propose to read: 

Of my kind uncle who will give 't, I know. 

S18. Line 116: A greater gift I -O, that's the sword toil 
—A dagger was part of the regular equipment of a knight, 
nnd was worn in the sword-belt on the opposite side to 
the sword. Civilians wore them stuck in their purses or 
pouches. The daggers varied considerably in length, the 
longest being a three-sided dagger, called a miserieorde, 
used to give the coup de grdee to a fallen foe. 

SIS. Line 121: / weigh it lightly, were it heavier.— HMn- 
mer's emendation, I'd weigh it lightly, is well worthy 
consideration. As the text now stands, we must take it 
that York means "If it were heavier I should value it 
lightly, as I do anything belonging to you." 

514. Line 122: What, would you have in^ weapon, littU 
ford/— Note the emphasis; Oloster asks contemptuously: 
"Would you, child as you are, have my weapon, the 
sword with which I have done such mighty deeds." 

515. Line 128 : / would, that I might thank yoft as— 
as— you call me.— Ho Walker; but I had marked it inde- 
pendently, before seeing his conjecture. Q. S has as as; 
F. 1 as, as. 

816. Lines 130, 131: 

Because that 1 am little, like an ape. 

He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders. 

There has been some difference of opinion, among the 


commentators, as to what the author exactly means here; 
whether his only intention is to refer to his uncle's de- 
formity: or, aa Douce suggests, to the fact that an ape 
was often the companion of the fool; as an inatance of 
which he refers to a picture by Holbein of Henry VI II. 
and some of his family, in which Will Summers is repre- 
sented as with a monkey clinging to his neck. Be that as 
it may, there is no doubt that, at this time, monkeya, or 
apes, were very common domestic pets; and it ia a well- 
known fact that a monkey will always sit on the back of 
another animal, or on the shoulder of a man, if he can gei 
the chance. Richard's deformity was said really to con 
sist in the fact, not that he was humpbacked, but that 
he had one shoulder higher than the other; though Shake- 
speare undoubtedly intended to exaggerate this defor- 
mity. He makes Richard say (III. Henry VI. iii. 2. l&r. 
158) that Nature had been bribed 

To make an envious mountain on my back. 
Where sits deformity to mock^y body. 

a passage in which, very probably, some idea of a monkey 
sitting on his shoulder was in the speaker's mind. 

817. Line 182: With what a SHARP provided wit ke 
reasonsi— These words are not hyphened in Qq. Ff., and 
we see no reason for doing so. Provided is probably sa 
independent epithet. It may either mean provided, i.e. 
ready furnished, or a wit which is provided; Uiat is to 
say, equipped for every emergency. 

818. Line 186: My lord, vrill 't please you pass aUmgt— 
Note the short line which expresses Gloucester's vexation. 
See again below, line 143. 

819. Line 141: My lord protector NBRDS will have it sa.- 
8o Q. 1; F. 1 and other old copies omit needs. 

Lines 167. 158: 
WeU, let them rest.— Come hither, Catesby. 
Thou'rt sworn as DKXP to effect what we intend. 

These two lines have been arranged varioualy by diffenot 
commentators. Qq. and Ff. read deeply. Pope omitted 
hither and ended the first line at sworn. Dycc reads then 
art, putting thou into the first line, and suggests dsef 
instead of deeply, but does not adopt it We have no 
hesitation in printing deep. It is used adrerbiany by 
Shakespeare in many passages, e.g. in Meaaure for Mee- 
sure, V. 1. 480: " so deep sticks it In my penitent heart" 
The (Cambridge edd. suggest Thou 'rt sworn ahooki be 
printed as a separate line; but we prefer to print thetvo 
lines as we have done in the text, because the first it sn 
instance of the middle pause (see Richard II. note ITOX 
and the rhythm is In no way injured by the want of ooe 

m. line 182: To make Lord WiUiam Hastings ^ eer 
mind.— ()q. Ff. have WUHam Lord Haetings, maklBf •» 
very awkward a line that we have, with some reloetaace. 
adopted Pope's emendation. Compare line 181 bek>v. 
where Oloater calls Hastings Lord WMiam. 

Lines ie9, 170: 
Well, then, no more but this: go, gentle Catesby, 
And, as it were far off, sound thou Lord Hastings. 

Arranged as by Pope; as three linea in Ft ending -!*•«>- 

ACT IIL Soene 1. 


ACT III. Scene 2. 

iif,—Ha^in^^—ot which it ii difflcnlt to make any rhyth- 
mical Tene at all. 

I. Line 170.— See Sir Thomas More (p. 60): "For 
which came he moued Cateaby to proue wyth some words 
cast oat a farre <^, wliither he could thinlte it possible 
to winoe the Lord Hasting into their parte/' and (p. 07) 
where Hastings addresses Stanley: " My Lord (quod the 
lord Hastinges) on my life ueaer doute you. For while 
one man is there which is neuer thence, neuer can there 
be thinge ones minded that should sownde amisse toward 
me, bnt it shoold be in mine eares ere it were well oute 
of their mouthes. This ment he by Catesby, which was 
of his nere secret connsail, and whome he veri famil- 
iarly Tsed, and in his most weighty matters put no man 
in so q)ecial trast» rekening hymself to no man so liefe, 
sith he well wist there was no man to him so much be- 
holden as was thys Catesby, which was a man wel lemed 
in the lawes of this lande. and by the special fauour of 
the lorde chamberlen, in good aucthoritie and much rule 
bare in al the county of Leceter where the Lorde Chsm- 
berlens power chiefly laye." 

Line 179: For we to-mcrrow hold divided eounciU. 
—See Sir Thomas More (p. 66): " But the protectour and 
the duke, after that, that they had set the lord Cardinall 
. . . to commune and deuise about the coronacion in 
one place: as fast were they in an other place contryuyng 
the coutrary, and to make the protectour kyug;" and (p. 
(17) .Stanley warns Hastings: " For while we (quod he) 
talke of one matter in the tone place, little wote we 
i»herof they talk in the tother place." 

Line 190: Croeby Place; very generally printed 
Croi^y-plaee. Ff. have Crv»by Home. In Sir Thomas 
More it is CrotMet place. See 1. 2. 212 ttipra, and note 
i*5 thereon. 

Line 193: Chop eg his Aea<f,— SOMETHINO we will 
DETK1LM15B.— Qq. read: 

Chop off his head, man; somewhat *•€ ■a.'iU do: 

which many editors prefer. We have retained the read- 
ing of Ff. ; it is not necessary to take determine here as= 
to pot an end to. It seems to us that the reading of Qq. 
is more oommmiplace than that of Ft Oloster answers 
with characteristic promptitude. Chop off hit head^ so 
getting rid of Hastings; but the next sentence, iomething 
tee wiU determine, is q)oken In a more serious manner; 
the mftaning being, " haTing got rid of him we will deter- 
mine on some plan of action." 

tf7. Line 196: 7%' earldom qf Hereford, and the move- 
abU8.—^9e note 476. Compare Richard II. IL 1. 161: 
The pUte. coin, revenues, and movead/*s. 

Line 200: edmplote.—ThlM word occurs with the 
accent on the last syllable, Just above, line 192. It is 
only used by Shakespeare in four other places, viz. in 
IL Henry VI. lii. L 147: 

I know their comfiM is to have my life ; 

the accent being on the flrst syllable; and three times in 
Titus Andronicus, in two of which, ii. 8. 26S, t. 2. 147, the 
accent is on the flrst syllable, and in ▼. 1. 66 on the 

ACT III. Scene 2. 

-To give some idea of the difficulties to be met in 
editing this play, this scene— which is a short scene, and 
a fair specimen of the condition of the text— contains, 
altogether, 124 lines, in which (including stage-directions) 
there are 64 points of difference between Q. 1 and F. 1. 
We give some of the less important ones; the more im- 
portant will be noticed, in their place, in the notes: — 

• Line 1: g. 1. H'Aaf, hoi ¥. 1, My lord. 

Line 2: Q. 1, Who knocks at the doorf F. 1 omits at 

the door. 
Line 3: Q. 1, .4 meegenger from the Lord Stanley. 

F. 1, One from Lord Stanley. 
Line 4: Q. 1, What '# o'clock? F. 1, What w t o'clock? 
Line C: Q. 1, thy manter. Y. \, my lord Stanley. 
Line 7: Q. 1, diould geem. ¥. I, appearu. 
Line 8: Q. 1, to your noble lordnhip. F. 1, to your 

noble xelfe. 
Line 0: Q. 1. And then. F. 1, What then? 
Line 11: Q. 1, had ra»te his helme. F. 1, rased off. 
Line 12: Q. 1, field. V. 1, kept. 

Line 16: Q. 1, presently yott will. F. 1. yoit will pre- 
Line 28: Q. 1. the boar pursues us. F. 1 omits us. 
Line 34: 

Q. 1, My gracious lord 1 'U tell him what you say. 

F. 1. I'll go, my lord, and tell him what you say. 
Line 39: Q. 1. And I believe it will never stand up- 
right. F. 1 omits it (for the sake of the metre). 
Lhie 44: Q. 1, Ere I will. F. 1, Be/ore lU. 
Line 4^5: Q. 1, Upon my life my lord. F. 1, ay, on my 

life (omitting my lord). 
Line 52: Q. 1, mine enemies. F. 1, my adversaries. 
Line 58: Q. 1, they who. F. 1, they which. 
Line 62: Q. 1. elder. ¥. 1, older. 
Line 68: Q. 1, who think. F. 1, that think. 
Line 60: Q. 1, as thou knowest. F. 1. as thou know'st 

(for sake of metre). 
Line 81: Q. 1, life. F. 1, days (to avoid repetition of 

Line 86: Q. 1. their states teas sure. F. 1, their states 

were sure. 
Line 88: Q. 1, the day overcast. F. 1, the day ore-cast 

(for the sake of the metre). 
Line 89: Q. 1, sudden scab of rancour. F. 1, sudden 

stab of rancour. (Q. 1 evident misprint.) 
Line 96: Q. 1, let ns away. F. 1, let s away. 
Line 99: Q. 1, that it please your Lo. F. 1. that your 

lordship please. 
Line 101: Q. 1. / met thee. F. 1, thou met'st me. 
Line 106: Q. 1, than ever I was. F. 1, than ere I was 

(for the sake of the metre). 
Line 113: Q. 1, Sabaoth. F. 1, Sabbath. 
Line 118: Q. 1, Those men. F. 1, the men. 
Line 122: Q. 1, 'Tis like enough. F. 1. Xay, liice 

Line 123: Q. 1, knowest. F. 1, know'st (for the sake of 

the metre). 

The differences l)etween the stage-directions in Q. 1 and 
F. 1 are as follows:— 


ACT III. Boene 2. 



At the begiuning of the scene: 

Q. 1. Enter a l e i^e ag er to Lo: HMtings. 

F. 1, Enter a messenger to the doore of Hastings. 
Line 8: Q. 1, Enter Lord HaHingg; which F. 1 gives 

after Hne &. 
Line 34: Exit; omitted by Q. 1. 
line 90: Q. 1, Enter Htutings a Pnrsivant. F. 1 

omits Hatting$. 
Line 97: Exit Lord Stanley and Cat^dby. Omitted 

by Q. 1. 
Line 108: Q. 1, He gioea him his purM. F. 1, He 

Cfcr&m )iim his purse. 
Line lOU: Exit Pursuivant. Omitted by Q. 1. 
Line 118: He whigpem in hit ear. Omitted hi F. 1. 

With the exception of the last important stage-direction, 
the above instances show that Q. 1 is not so complete in 
its stage-directions as F. 1; and it may be doubted if Q. 1 
was really talcen from the anthurized MS. l>eIon^ug to 
the theatre at that time. 

380. Line 6: Cannot ihytnaster deep tkeaetedimtM nights! 
- So Q. 1; which seems preferable to the reading of F. 1, 
"Cannot my lord Stanley!" on metrical grounds. If we 
adopt the reading of F.l we most elide Cannot hito Can't. 
It loolcs very much as if the passage were intended to be 

SSI. Lines 10, 11 : 

TIten eertijies your lordship, that that night 
He dreamt the boar had RAf(Ei> OFF his helm. 
There seems to be some difficulty al)out the real meaning 
of rtwtfd in this passage. Qq. (see note 329) have not rased 
off^ but simply rased (ra«f«). Sir Thomas More (p. 74) 
thus refers to this dream, "in which liim thoug^tc tliat 
a bore with his tuskes so raced them 1>otb bi the heddes." 
Shalcespeare uses the verb to raze in the ordinary sense 
of " to erase " in several places, e.g. in Richard II. ii. 3. 

To raxt one title of your honour out ; 

and, without the preposition, in Measure for Measure, 
i. 2. 11. and .Sonnet xxv. 11. It is used in the tense uf " tu 
destroy," "to level with the ground,** in I. Henry VI. ii. 
3. 05: 

Rateth your dtks, and subvetts yoitf towns. 

It seems to us that the word used in this passage in the 
text has nothing to do with the word riaze=to erase. 
Steevens, in liisnote. sayt, ''This term rased or rashed, is 
always given to describe the violence inflicted by a boar" 
(Var. Ed. vol. xix. p. 110); ami he quotes a passage from 
Lear, iii. 7. 58: 

In liis anointed fledi rath boariiih fangs, 

in which, however, the reading of Ff. is slide. If we 
accept the reading of Qq. in that passage, it would be the 
only other passage in Shakespeare in which roMK or rojse, 
was used in this sense. But !7ares gives, under the word 
rash, a quotation from Warner's Albion's England (vil 
c. 36), the same aa given by 8teevens:i 

Ha : cur, avAnt, the boar »o rashr thy hide ; 

and from Uie lialiad of Launcelot : 

They buckled them together so. 
Like unto wild bo.'ires rashin^: 

vhere 0c Pevqr wrplaiM the word aa *' rending, Uke tka 

wild boar with hU tusks" (ReUques. bk. L ^. 104^ In hatii 
tliese passages the word seems to mean " tearing with the 
tusks/' a meaning which would suit the pam^ in our 
text as wen as the paan^ge In Sir Thomas More. We find 
the word used, with theprepoaitioii i/. by Daniel, in a stsge- 
directionia Hymen's Triumph(lv. 4X "[He stabs Claiindo, 
and roAss of his Garland " (Woiks. vol i. p. IV). Baret^ 
in his Alveaxie. gives no such fonn as roji; bat gives 
besides, " to Eaae and crosse out a thiAg written." "to 
rase, to overthrow, or csst doune to the ground, to 
destroy." Palsgrave has "I nusfctf a thlqg from one, I 
take it from hym hastyly. Je aradke, prim. coiU- He 
roMh^d it out of my handes . . .; 11 lairadkahors denes 
mayns." Skeat gives the word as being derived from the 
old French esracer, modem French arraeker. Chancer 
uses arrau in The Clerkes Tale, line 8979: 

The children frusi hire am they j^aa arract. 

— Vol. ii. p. »39. 

The meaning there is evidently " to tear away." Ftob 
the above instances it is clear that " to rase " or " to rsM" 
is quite a different word from "to rase" or "to raze" = to 

1 Steeveuk ifives nut, not rashe. 


Lines 12-14.— See above; note 32i. 

I. lines 22-24: 
And at the other is my good friend Catesby; 
Wliere nothing can proceed that toueheth tu 
Whereof I shall not have intetl^^enoe. 

Compare the passage in Sir Thomas More's history (p. 67) 
given in note 323 above. 

8U. Line 40: Till Richard WKAB THV OARLAXD ef the 
reaiin.— Compare II. Henry IV. in King Hcmry's speeck 
when addressing liis son, iv. 5. 202: 

So thou the garland wtar St successively. 

Sir Thomas More says: "In whose time and by wiiofc 
occasion, wiiat about the getting of the j^rtoiuf, kepiiig 
it, lesing and winning againe, it hath cost more engliihe 
blood then )iath twlse the winning of Fravnce ** (p. 107). 

MS. line 65: Qnd know 1 mil not do it TO THE MUim. 
—Compare Much Ado. is. 71,72: "Yon are both sare, and 
will assist me? Con. 7e ths death, my lord; " and Letrli 
Labour's Lost. V. 2. 146: 

No, tff the dtiUk, «p« wil «ot move a foat. 

886. Line 58: That they who brought me IM my master'* 
hate.— For this sense of in, compare Mucli Ado. ii. 3 81: 
"One woman shall not oome in my grace;' and in tiii» 
play, above, i. 8. 89: 

Falsely to dra» me iu these vile suspects. 

837. Lines 60, 61: 

Well, Catesby, ere a fortnight make ins M£r, 
J 'U send some packing that yet think ue( on 'L 

In Q. 1 these are printed as three Uoes, this: 

I teli thee Catecbr. Caf What aiy Ijiardt 

Hojrt. Etc a fortmi{ht make me elder. 
He seud M>nie packini;. that yet tliinke not nn it 

It is difficult to see why some editors should have adoptsd 
the reading of Q. 1 here, llie interpolated speech of 


Hutl^i li uUn^DS SU. Uuai91-US; 

II b* Iwl bsm xUnB- 
Ing uiTon* elae, or tf Umm llBei had ntamd to ■nine 
toUllr dlServnt MbjKt. Uw IntccpoUXiua of ft I ■aold 

hkn ■OOW DKBolDf 1 M It i>. It ODl} IpOlll lb» Ihfthtn, 

— TnJton' heads mn, fonoitTij. tipatiA cm a tower 
which Btood It Om Darth md of tlw dn>1>rldt« In the 
middle or Lnndon Brtdge; bnt atter 1(78, vben ttii lowar 
waa tahen down, tkar were renond to the gate at the 
Southwark end ot the bridge on the Suneir aide. In the 
plctan of Old LoBdoB Erldge 1b UBS preflud la Uirriion'i 
Doci^ciaii ol fogiaad (Pt.S. Espriat, Sow Shak. Soc., 
Karlea 0. >~a t). the headi an Died aa Uh lop oE IroB 
a^keaoTertheBonthwarkOate. Hentuer. la hl> accotmC 
ot LondoD. aajs: "Od the aouth, la a bridge of ato&e, 81M 
l«l In leogth, of wonderful work: It li lapported upon 20 
ptera nt iqiDire tione. OD feet high, and SO broad, toloed 
bj arcbeiol about SO feet diameler. The whole li corered 
on each aide wlUi boiuaa. to dlapoaed. M to bare ibe ap- 
coatlaoed itnet, not at all uf a bridge. 
OB thia li built ■ tower, on wbuie top the heada ol 
:h aa hare be«n eieeoteil for high traaaon^ are placed 
an Iron aplkei; We counted ahore 30 ' (Bepriot, ml. 

•d tit Tmttrl THE lu 

>■ eatt cT OK beJuaJoL 

t 1< that ot Ft. with (he exception 

The nailing ol neither renlon li uttatautoTT- In Q. 1 
liuei 01 HncI K are both Iniperiecl and unrhythmical; and 
the abJecCioii to Bui coiu. mn lord, la that the aame wordi 

I In Ft. waa pmbablj made as 

LcconUng to line fi. Uptm Ot 

Dininca at t o'clock in Ute 

mijnr morning in Jnne, 


luatauee ol 

Calk about iJtr day being ipnt: but, probably, thlt a 
alun doei tint mean that the da; wa> ended, o 
It waa far advanced; but tbal It wiia advanclnf 
ting on. " Uunipare the faUovlns IMauigs In 

that he waa tor the while (hot i 
tallen Into the kingea Indlgnacloo 
and (tode lu grat fen of hbnaeUe. And tor aininc) 
aa ha nowe met thla pnnanant In the i 
Inhardy (i.a. jtapard)/) to wel paaied : it gain hUn gnal 
pleaaara lo Calke with him thereof with whom he had 
before talked therof In the aame place wblle he waa 
therln. And therfore he Hid : Ah Haatlngea, art thoD 

« o( gq. (•mbMantUDr) b thai 

I bartf Yea 

rhen I met thee here ' 
J lord (quod he) that re 

!■ with as lienT 
smbre I wel : and 

ACT III. Scene 2. 


ACT III. Scene 3. 

thereby. Thou wouldest say bo, quod he, if thou knewest 
asmuch as I know, which few know els as yet and moe 
shall shortly. That ment he by the lordes of the quenes 
kindred that were taken before, and should that day be 
behedded at Pounfreit: which he wel wyst, but nothing 
ware that the axe hang ouer his own hed. In faith roan 
<|Uod he, I was neuer so sory. nor neuer stode in so great 
dread in my life, as I did when thou and I met here. And 
lo how the world is turned, now stand mine enemies in 
the daunger (as thou maist hap to here more hereafter) 
and I neuer in my life so mery, nor neuer in so great 

S46. Line 111: 1 thank thee, good Sir John.-^ir was a 
title given, by courtesy, to all priests and ordained clergy 
below the degree of priest Nares says (tub voce) that 
a bachelor " who in the books (of the university) stood 
Domimu Brown, was in conversation called Sir Brown. 
This was in use in some colleges even in my memory. 
Therefore, as most clerical persons had taken that first 
•degree, it became usual to style them gir." Compare the 
Sir 1 opas of Twelfth Night and also the Sir Oliver Mar- 
text of As You Like It In Beaumont and Fletcher's 
Scornful Lady (ii. 1) Sir Roger the Curate is called also 
Domitie. It was always used coupled with the Christian 

846. Line 113: Coine the next Sabbath, atidl will content 
you. — After this line we have in Ff. : 

Priest. He wait upon your Lordsliip ; 

^hich was apparently inserted by mistake, as we have 
the very same words used by Hastings below, line 124. 
Qq. only have the stage-direction: Ut whispers in his ear, 
which we have rendered: They coi\fer privately in whis- 
pers. It is evident, from the first line Buckingham speaks, 
that some such private conference must have been going 
•on when he entered. 

ACT III. Scene 3. 

847— Q. 1 has the stage-direction: " Enter Sir Riehard 
Ratliffe, with the Lo: Rivers, Gray, and Vaughan, pris- 
oners." More says (p. 86) that tlie execution or murder 
of Rivers, Gray, and Vaughan took place on the same day 
on which Hastings was beheaded, that is to say, June 
13th; but, as Lord Rivers's will is dated June 28d, in 
which he makes allusion to the execution of Gray, and 
directs his body to be buried with that of the Lord Rich- 
ard [GrayL it is certain that he was not put to death till 
some days later. They were all executed without any 
form of trial. 

Line 1. — Qq. commence the scene with a line spoken 
'by Ratcliff: Bring forth the prisoners. This was perhaps 
inserted in order to make the scene more in accordance 
with history. On the very day on which Hastings was 
■arrested and beheaded. Ratcliff, according to Lingard 
(p. 227): " at the head of a numerous body of armed men, 
entered the castle of Pontefract, and made himself mas- 
ter of the lord Grey, Sir Thomas Vaughan, and Sir Rich- 
ard Hawse. To the spectators it was announced that 
they had been guilty of treason; but no Judicial forms 
were observed; and the heads of the victims were struck 
•off in the presence of the multitude. " 


948. Line 4: Ood KBEP the prince from cM the pack o/ 
you!— So Qq. ; Ff . have bless. 

850. Lines 6, 7: 
Vaugh. You live that shall cry tpoefor this hereafter. 
Rat Dispatch; the limit of your lives is out. 
These lines are omitted in Qq. 

861. Line 10: Within the guilty CLOSURE </ thy trails — 
C-ompare Sonnet xlviii. 11: 

Within the fl^entle cUsun of my breast ; 

and Venus and Adonis. 782: 

Into the quiet closure of my breast. 

These are the only two other paasagM in which Shake- 
speare uses the word in this sense; but in Titus Androni- 
cus. V. 3. 134, it is used in the sense of " end :** " make a 
mutual closure of our house." 

8fiS. Line 11: Richard the Second here teas hack'd to 
death.— S^e Richard II. note 317. 

868. Line 12: thy dismal SEAT. — Seat does not seem 
here an altogether satisfactory word. Qq. read souls, 
which is nonsense. Capell conjectured soil. But if wa 
take seat = "site" (a word which Shakespeare never uses) 
the expression would be a perfectly suitable one. Com- 
pare Macbeth, i. 6. 1: " This castle hath a pleasant seat" 
Schmidt takes it t<> mean "a place of residence, abode," 
in which sense it is often used in Shakespeare. 

864. Lines 14. 15.— See above, i. 3. 210-214. 

866. Lhie 15.— Omitted by Qq. ; such an omission as this 
scarcely says much in favour of the accuracy of Q. 1. 

866. Lines 17. 18: 

Then curs'd she Richard Too; then etirs'd she Bvdi- 

Then curs'd she Hastings. 
We have ventured to insert too in order to make line 17 
complete, which in F. 1 is printed as two lines: 

Then curs'd shce Richartl, 
Then curs'd shee Buckini^ham. 

Qq. give the passage as one line; but substitute Uaaixi^ 
for Richard. But the line cannot be made to scan m* to 
read rhythmically wltliout the insertion of a syllable. 

867. Line 23: 

Make haste; the hour of death is EXPIATE. 

Qq. read: 

Come, come, dispatch, the limit ft/your lives is out. 

omitting line 7 above (see note 350X in which that same 
expression occurs. The exact meaning of the word er- 
piate here is by no means clear. Singer proposed to read 
expiraU. Collier substituted expedite. More than one 
word might be proposed, e. g. explicate = explicated, 
though this is certainly not a word used by Sbakeapeare. 
Expleted might be suggested; as we find in Palsgrave, 
" I explite, I finish or make an end of anything." TlM 
difliculty about expiate is not in its being eqalvalent to 
expiated; for that form of past participle is comoKio 
enough. F. 2. F. 3. F. 4 get out of the difliculty by read- 
ing is now expired. Nearly all the commentators quote 
Sonnet xxii. 4: 

Then look I death my days should €x*i«te. 


ACT III. Scene 4. 

■• have ■ome trace of the seoae in which ex- 
always to hare been nted, namely, of a pro- 
aifloe or atonement It it easy to understand 
an ea^ptote oar days by atoning, in some mea- 
B wrongs we have committed. Bat it is not 
low the kowr of death can be said to be expi- 
■pe the word expiate shonid have somewhat 
■enae, and may intentionally be used, with a 
itcliff in reference to line 21: 

;e smti^td, dear God, with our true blood. 

the moet probable explanation if we accept 
of Ft 

ACT III. Scene 4. 

4: Is aU things ready for THE royal timeJ—fio 


jire all thlng%/tm'njc for tkat royal time? 

Blurred the reading of F. 1, because even those 
9 accept the version of Qq. in this line, read 
iley't speech in the neit line, that being the 
h of Qq. and Ff. It is impossible therefore to 
tb into the plural in this line, and to leave the 
the stngular. Ck>mpare IT. Henry VL iii. 2. 
M note 183 on that play. It will be observed, 
1 to that passage, that the Cambridge edd. re- 
iding of Ff. on tbe very same ground that we 
ire. We may also compare Othello, i. 1. 172 : 
lot charms?" Perhaps this passage affords as 
itance as any of the utterly arbitrary, and, if 
tbe expression, careless manner in which the 
in the first Quarto have been made. If the 
(rf Q. 1 had altered It w into There are, he 
» shown some sense and consistency ; but he 
rerfo to the plural, in the first case, without 
trouble to make the answer correspond to the 

6: To-tnorroie, then, I judge a happy day.— 
ig of this speech is not quite clear at first sight; 
lUy an answer to the preceding line, as will be 
iia explanation of wants but nomination given 
riiote. The meaning, of course, is, that the 
ika that to-morrotc will be a fortunate day for 

a 10-12 : 

hioir eaeh other's faeee: for our hearts, 

tmnee no more qf mine than I of yours; 

T^fhiSf my lord, than you of mine. 

eading of Ff.. is infinitely preferable to that 

Jk^. Why you my Lo: me thinks you should soonest 

I mj I.A? we know each others faces : 

trtM, be knowes no more of mine, 

its: aor Ino more of his. then you of mine : 

rs Ff. in the main, but adopts the reading of 
• Or in Une 12. 

19: But ifou, my ROBLE lords, may name the 
has "my hcnourable lords;" Q. 1, Q. 2 "my 

noble Lo:" Soble is the preferable epithet here fur met- 
rical reasons. 

M2. Line 23: 1 have been long a sleeper.— It is worth 
comparing the following passage from The True Tragedy: 
"Rich. Go to, no more ado Catesby, they say I have bin 
a long sleeper to-day, but ile be awake anon to some 
of their costs;" and, just below, The Page soliloquizes: 
" Doth my lord say he hath bene a long sleeper to day? 
There are those of the Court that are of another opinion, 
that thinks his grace lieth neuer Idg inough a bed" 
(Hazlitt's Shak. Lib. vol. L pt. 2, p. 85). 

ass. Line 26: cue.—&ee Mids. Night's Dream, note 151. 
It would seem to be unnecessary to explain the meaning 
of this word, but that, recently (January, 1877). a judge 
upon the bench said that he did not know the meaning 
of the word "until ver}- late in life." 

861 Unes 32-35: 
My Lord of Ely, when I was last in liolborn, 
1 saw good strawberries in your garden there : 
J do beseech you send for some qf them. 
£ly. Marry, and will, my lord, with aU my heart. 

So Ff.; Qq. insert a line quite unnecessarily before line 32: 

Hast. I thankc your grace; 

and then continue thus : 

Gia. My Lo: of Elie. Bis/i. My Lo: 

G/p. When I was last in Holbome : 
I saw good strawberries in your garden there, 
I doe beseech you send for some of them. 

Sish. I go my Lord. 

Sir Thomas More thus narrates the incident of the straw- 
berries (p. 70) : " And after a little tolking with them, he 
sayd vuto the Bishop of Elye: my lord you haue very 
good strawberies at your gardayue in Holbeme, I require 
you let vs haue a messe of them. Gladly my lord, quod 
he, woulde god I had some better thing a« redy to your 
pleasure as that And therwith in al the hast he sent hys 
seruant for a messe of strawberies. The protectour sette 
the lordes fast in comoning, and therupon prayeng them 
to spare hym for a little while, departed thence." In 
the Latin play of Richardus Tertius (act v.) Oloster says : 

ferunt hortA tufl 
decora fragra plurimQ producere. 

£>ij<v/. Fiient. 

Nil tibi claudetur, hortus quod meus 


— HazHtt, vol. i. pt ii. p. 163. 

Line 41 : His masUr'g child, as worshipful he 
terms it— Ft. have worshipfully. We prefer the reading of 
Qq. for the sake of the metre. The transcriber may easily 
have mistaken he for ly; instances of adjectivM used as 
adverbs are common enough. Compare above, i. 1. 22: 
tt»\AMAtona6i0=unfashionably; and below, line50, "cheer- 
fully and smooth" 

Line 46: To-morrow, IN MT JUDGMENT, is too 
fudden.— 80 Ff. ; Qq. have here in mine opinion, a read- 
ing which it is really impossible to say why any editor 
should retain, considering that it renders the line horribly 
unrhythmical, and possesses no force or merit of any 
kind whatever. 


ACT III. Soeae 4. 



887. Lines 48, 49: 

Where is my lord the Duke qf Olottsrf 
I have tent for thete HratoberrieM. 

SoFf.;Qq. have: 

Where is mjr L. jiroteclor. I katre sent for these atr»«beiie^ 

printed all la one line^ wkich tJie Cambridge add. print 
Mtproee. We may HU)|>oee tbat &(o0ter(^<oyaMter) ia k€M 
proDonnoed aaa triejrllable, aa tkere are inataneee <d anch 
a diviiioa of the igrllablea Compare I. Henry VL note 
89. and Biobard IL note 17L Ai to line 49. if we take 
ttie passage as verse, it ia hopeleesly imperfect and nn- 
rhythmical. Haumer supplied the word straightway, in 
order to complete the metre. We might complete it by 
reading : " I have sent tome one." Compere iv. 4. 586 of 

this play: 

S»me »nt take order BocIdaflMun be broagt w . 

Lines 57. 58: 
What of hie heart perceive you m kitfaee 
By any LIKILIUOOD he thow'd to-day t 

So Qq.; Ff. have Uvelihcod, a reading which it appears to 
us to be impossible to defend. Livelihood is only used 
in two other passages in Shakespeare, in Venus and 
Adonis. 36. 

The precedent gf pith aikd livelihood, 

where it undoubtedly means "liveliness;" and in All's 
Well, i. 1. 58 : " the tyranny of her sorrow takes all liveli- 
hood from her cheek;" a psssege upon which Knight relies 
for the Justiflcation of the readfaig of Ff. here; but surely, 
there it means nothing more than "colour" or "bright- 
ness." lliere may be some better ground for defend- 
ing the reading livelihood, because it corresponds with 
line 50 al>ove ; but Hastings' answer seems to correspond 
much better with likelihood, which is used pretty fre- 
quently in Shakespeare ="aign." "evidence.** Compare 
Twu Gent of Verona, v. S. 48: 

These liktltk»0ds confirm her fliflit from hence ; 

and Othello, i. 8. 108: "these thin habits and poor liktiir 

886. Line 60: For, were he, he had ehown it ns Aw iooJct. 
—After this line Qq. insert quite nnnecesaarily: 

/Vr. (i.e. StmtUiiy) I pray God he be not. I »ay. 

But as Gloucester's next speech begins with the words / 
pray the line is much better omitted. 

870. Line 61.— In the old play this incident is thus nar- 

Enler Richard, Cmtesby, mnd ethers, pulltHg Lord Hajtings. 

Rich. Come bring him away, let this tuftce. thou aad that ac« 
citrsed lorceresse the mother Queene hath beiritched me, with 
acslstance of that famous strumpet of my t>rothers, Shores wife : my 
withered arme is a Miffident testimony, deny it if thou canst: laie not 
ShoMS wife with thee last aif^htt 

Halt. That she was in my house my Lord I cs—ot deny. bt« not 
for any such matter, if. 

Rtch. If, villain, feedest tho« me with lii aad ands, jpo Cetch bm a 
Priest, m.-tkc a short siuiA. and dispatch him quickly. For l>y tiM 
blesscil S4int Paule I sweare. I will not dine till I sec tlie ttaytocs 
head.— Haxlitt. voL t. pt a, p. 86. 

And in the Mirror for Magistrates, Hastings is made to 
say of Richard (st. 71): 


Frowning he entetik with ao diaimged i 

As for mylde Majr had chopped foulc Jaoacrc : 

And lowring oo me with the goggle eye. 

The Tfhetted tuske, and furrowed forehead hsre. 

His c r ea k ed shoulder bilMdlike set vp. 

With frothy iawei. whoK feame he d 

With aqgiy lookes that ilaiued et She tgor. 

Tiias gma at last to grant the giysMJl. i|r*e. 

—VoL ii p. apS 4edB. liisl 

871. Lines 78-^86: 
Off witk hie kmd /— neir. by AmjK Ftml, I ttcear 
I will not dine until 1 see the mmu. — 
Lovel and Hatcliff, look that it be done. 

These lines stand thus in Q. 1: 

Off with his head. Now by Saiot Paule. 

I will not dine to day I sweare. 

V'ntill I see the same, some see it done. 

871. Line 80 : Lovel and Ratcliff, look that ii be dew.— 
The introduction of Ratdiff in this scene baa occasioned 
much difficulty to the various editors of Shakespesre; 
for, as he was represented, in the laat scene, aa bdng st 
Pomfret, and the events there represented are soppessd 
to take place simultaneously with the events in thi* 
scene, it is Impossible that he could have been in LoDdoa 
and Pomfret at the same time. In Q. l an attempt is 
made to meet the difficulty. Ratdiff ia not among tke 
characters present in this scene, the only stage-directioB 
at the commencement being: Bnter the Lords to CowhoA. 
And after line 81 is the stage-direction : JSreimf. WMMd 
Cat, with Ha. T. 1 has Ratdif's name distinct^ amoBf 
the characters who enter with Buckingham. It alio hs> 
after this next line the stage-direction: Manet LouMmd 
Ratcliffe, with the Lord Haetingt; and, in the neit 
scene, after line 20. where Q. 1 has : £nUr Catsut wiA 
Hatt. head, F. 1 has, after line 21: Enter LouxLL aad 
RATCurrE, trifA Bantings Head. It is evident then- 
fore, that, in the copy from which Q. 1 was tranecriM, 
an attempt was made to remedy this oversight on tke 
part of the author. But, as in many other cases of st- 
tempted improvements to be found in Q. 1. the rttlKr 
overlooked one important pohut ; for ha left in the ast 
scene. i.e. scenes, line 17, Gk>neeat«r'a dknddm ti 
CateAy: " Cmtesby ooerlooke the wala" For tMi iMsm 
we •gree with the Cambridge edd. that it la 4diaf Is* 
much violence to tae text of our author to try i 
this evident oversight It is one into which 
at a time when the change of scene involved no 
of scenery, might easily faU. The Clarendon add. dw 
suggest that one of the players may have donblad Caisrty 
and Ratdiff; but this could scarcely be poaikle, ss is 
act iv. scene 4 we have Ratdiff *>id OaUslby urn Ui* 
stage at the same time, and speaking to Rlditfd. fbe 
fact is, that this is one of those slips on the part of lit 
autlior which can be easily remedied on the atage, M 
not where the text is printed entire. 

878. Line 84: Stanley did dream the hoar did BA8I bit 

helm.—Q. 1 has 

Stanley did dreame, the bonre did race his lichnc 
F. 1: 

Stanley did dream, the Bore did ron-re our Hcimcs. 

Most modem editors print rmxe, which, for ttie reaioas 
given In note 831, is a mistake. 

MT UL 9mat 4. 


ACT UL Soene 5. 

m Lin« tt: Amd I did Mom it, mmd diaimin U /y — 
So F. 1; Q. 1 kM: 

But I JncUind it, and did acorae to (Ue ; 

which mo«t modern editon leem to prefer, for what i»re- 
die reuon doe« not appear. 

SH. IiMW:roOT-CXOXHAavw.— BeelLBanrVL 

fM. Lhiet 91, M: 

A» too nifxPimiG, kote mine enemies 
To-day at Pousfret lHoodUy were ImUker'd. 
In Q. 1 these linee stand: 

At t«ere triumphing at mine caeuiec ; 

Hu«r they at Pomfret bkiudily were butcberd. 

The alteration of Q. 1 was evidently made to avoid the 
re-(tey. with a view of getting rid of the difflcatty ahout 
Ratdif (see above, note S7S); hat if we refer bade to scene 
• of this actp line 105. we shall see that Q. 1 retains This 
img fai Hastings's speech. 

For an instancs of trinamfking aeoented on the second 
qrllable, couipar e Lore's Lahoor's Lost, iv. t. S5: 
So Tfclest thoo t riAmp h ing in my woe. 

tn. line flB: Cotrne^ osnu; ditpatek; the dtike nmdd be 
Bl4uft4wr.— Thb^eech is given in g. 1 to Ca<M^. (See 
ooUSIt) The readli« in the text is that of F. 1. Most 
MlitfOts peeler to adopt the reading of Q. 1: Dispatek, my 
lord, in offder to avoid the repetition of the same expres- 
ia Une KM beh»w. a line omitted by Q. 1 ; bat we 
whether BmkiUg wonid address Hastings ss my 
\mrd at nU. In aeene 3, according to ()q., he nees the 
wmm iosm of words : C^Nie, eowie, diafaiek (see note 357). 
Shnfceipeare aeenu to have intended to represent his man- 
as that of a milan to correspond with his deeds. 

191. Line 98: O momttUary grace of mortal w^n.— So 
Pr.;Q4. have: 

O momeotary rtafe c/xcorldly men ; 

in ntteriiy mfaningless reading ; it is impossible to believe 
Shakespeare oonld have written snch nonsense as that 

Una KW: Who hnilde hie hope in air ef your OOOD 
UIOKSU--Q. 1 has "yemr /asr grace ;" but we prefer the 
re n din g of F. 1, ns it avoids the Jingle of air and fair. 
The expvcMlon inair^fH ntAkoemblt* I cannot find any 
instance c( it etoewhere. Johnson qnotes Horace " Nes- 
:taa mrnree fannda." Livy has "honoris anra," and there 
m the wttf eonoKm expression *'aura popnlaiis.'* 

1M-107.-Qq. omit the incident of Hastings' 
kens atanhling. It is mantioned in More (p. 7i) : "CSei^ 
(ain is it also, that in the riding toward the tower, the 
Hune morning in which he was liehedded, his horse twise 
ir thrlse atnmbied with him almost to the falling, which 
Wng albeit eehe nanwote wel daily happeneth to them 
to whom no anch nriaduumce Is toward: yet hath tt ben 
4 an oMe rfie nad cvatome, obeemed as a token often 
!tmes notably foregoing some great mlsfortone" — Hast- 
ngs says, in The Xirror for Magistrates (st 57): 
My palfrey fn the playncat paned strecte. 
TWiae b ow ed Ma bo— e«, ckriae knoeled on the flowre, 
(aa Bslii^ aaae) the droMtod tawrc. 

— VaL ii. ^ aM- 

ACT 111. SCEHB 5. 

atL Enter Glostbr and Bcckimgham in bvstt ar- 
mour, marvellous ill-favoured. —This is the stage-d irection 
in Ff.; except that they give rotten instead of "rusty 
armour." Qq. have simp^: "Enter Duke of Olocester 
and Buckiu^iam in armour." **Itotten armour" would 
simply mean armour that was oat of repair. (Compare 
The Mirror for Magistrates (st. 88): 

In TQusty anuure as in extreame shift. 
They dad themaehies, to doake tbdr dioeliih drift 


Line A: At if thou wert DiSTRAroHT and mdd urith 
|prr«>r.~(3ompare Romeo and Juliet, iv. 8. 49: 

U : if I wake, sh.ill I not be distrmugMtt 

MS. Lines 6-lL— This speech of Buckingham's is doubly 
interesting. In the first place it gives us some idea of 
the conventional tragic actor of the time, whose simple 
tricks were preserved by tradition down to the time when 
the Richsrdsonian l>ooth was a common adjunct to every 
counti7 fair; secondly, one cannot help being amused 
at Buckingham's boasting of his capacity for acting to 
Richard, who was tiie most consummate actor that ever 
lived. The difference between them was precisely that 
between tiie really great actor and the ranting tragedian 
of Riciiardson's l)ooth. Buckingham's acting could de- 
ceive no one bnt liimself ; but Richard's powers of sim- 
ulation and dissimulation deceived even his most inti- 

8M. Line 7: Tremble aud start at toagging qf a straw. — 
Omitted in Qq. 

MS. Line 8: IXTKNDIMO deep suspieiom,— Intend is used 
ill tlie same sens«=" to pretend," "to simulate," below, 
in this act, scene 7, line 45u Compare Taming of Sln^ew, 
iv. 1. 906: 

aniiU this huzly I intmd 
That all is done in reverent care of her. 

8M. Lines 10-21.— In this passage the differences be- 
tween Q. 1 aud F. 1 are most difficult to reconcile. The 
chief discrepancy arises, no doubt, from the attempt made 
by (2. 1 to set right the mistake there had been made 
above in scene S. With regard to the presence of Rat- 
cliff both here and at the executions at Pomfret, see 
note 372. In (2. 1 the passage stands thus: 

And both are ready in their offices 

To grace my ttfatacema. Eutrr Maaor. 

Gia, Here comes the Maior. 

Btu. Let me alone to entertaine him. Lo. Maior, 

do. Looke to the drawbridge there. 

Bhc. The reason we haue tent for yoa. 

CU. Cate«A>y oueriookc the wals. 

Muck. Harke, I beare a dnisuae. 

6/«. Looke backe, defend thee, here are enemies. 

Bhc. God and our innocence defend vs. Enter Cattsby witk 

Hast. hrad. 
Gie. O. O. be quiet, it is Cateiby, 

As we have already pointed out, Q. 1 does not get rid of 
the difficulty ; for Richard is made to give directions to 
Catesby before, aecording to the stage-dhection, he has 
entered on the scene st all We have followed the ver- 
sion of F. 1, omitting Buckingham's words, Lei me alone 
to entertain him(du6 14X which are given by aioat modem 


ACT III. Scene 5. 


ACT III. Scene i. 

editors who follow Qq- The words seem unnecessary, and 
may, not improbably, have been added by one of the 
actors. The object of the dramatist, in this passage, seems 
to be to represent as much hurry and confusion as is pos- 
sible. Richard is anxious to convey the impression to 
the Lord Mayor, that he is under a strong sense of per- 
sonal danger ; and I would suggest that the words (line 
10) Hark, a drum should be given to Gloster and not to 

887. Line 20: God and our innocence d^end and guard 
tM/— Compare Hamlet's adjuration, 1. 4. 39: 

Angels and ininisten of grace defend us I 

The innocence of Buckingham and Richard would not be 
a very reliable defence against any danger. 

888. Line 25 : / took him /or the plainest HARMLKSS 
creature. — ¥or this coupling of two adjectives in the 
superlative and positive degree, compare Merchant of 
Venice, iii. 2. 295: 

The best-condition'd and unwearieH spirit ; 

and see note 248 on that play. Also compare below, line 
33: ''the covert'st ehelter'd traitor." 

K Line 20: That breath'd upon the earth a Christian.— 
After this line Qq. insert: Looke ye my Lo: Maior, which, 
following Capell, we have transferred to line 34, where it 
seems in plai'e in Buckingham's speech, but certainly is 
not so here. Gloster's speech is evidently spoken not to 
the Lord Mayor, but to Ratcliff , Lovell and Buckingham. 

890. Line 20: So smooth he DAUB'd his vice with show of 
virtue.— The verb to dattb is used, in f> figurative sense, 
in only one other passage in Shakespeare, viz. in Lear, 
where Edgar, disguised as a madman, says, iv. 1. 53: " I 
cannot daub it further " = " I cannot keep up my assumed 
character any further. " The substantive daubery is used 
in a similarly figurative sense, Merry Wives, iv. 2. 180: 
"She works by charms, by spells, by the figure, and such 
daubery as this is. " 

891. Line 34: That ever liv'd.— Look YOU, MY Lord 
MAYOR.— These last words were inserted by Capell from 
the last speech as given in Qq* S«e note 389 above. 
It is evident that Buckingham turns round here to speak 
to the Lord Mayor, and therefore these, or some such 
words, are almost necessary. 

888. Lines 50. 51. —These lines are given to Bucking- 
ham in F. 1 as well as the next speech, lines 53-01, which 
is given in Q. 1, Q. 2 to Dut., probably intended for Due. - 
Duke, and in the rest (substantially) to Oloster. We 
have followed Ff. in giving lines 50, 51 to Buckingham. 
They seem entirely out of place as spoken by the Lord 
Mayor, who ventures, throughout this scene, on no par- 
ticular condemnation of Hastings. The next speech, 
lines 52-01, should, it seems to us, be given to Oloster 
without any hesitation. Buckingham would hardly have 
dared to talk as if he were, in any respect, the source 
of supreme auUiority. The Lord Mayor's speech, lines 
02-00, seems certainly addressed to Oloster and not to 

888. Line 55: SOMEWHAT against our NEANI.NO.— So Qq. ; 


Ff. have : " Something against our meaning. " If the 
speech be given to Oloster the reading of Qq. seems pre- 

891 Line 50: Because, my lord, we umtld tuive had you 
HEARD.— The construction here is certainly very irregular; 
but we cannot follow Keightley in altering heard to hear, 
though it is certainly better grammar, any more than we 
should, in the line above, alter " have prevented " into 
*'ha(h prevented," as Pope suggests. Lettsom (quoted 
by Dyce, note 57. on this passage) suggests, *' tee teouid 
that you had heard." Dr. Abbott, in his Shakespeare 
Grammar, sec. 411, would have us read, "we u>ouU hart 
had you (to have) heard." 

In this line we is the reading of Qq. ; Ff. have /. 

Line 09: BUT since you cotne too late qf our in- 
tent.— So Qq.; Ff. have " Which since. ' 

886. Lines 72-94.— For the substance of thia speech o( 
Oloster to Buckingham, or rather of tlie suggestions there- 
in contained, when speaking of the devices of Richanl 
and his party to procure the consent of the people tu the 
deposition of the prince, compare what More says (p. 89): 
"But the chief thing and the weighty of al Uiat inoen- 
cion, rested in this that they should allege bastardy, 
either in king £dward himself, or in his children, or both. 
So that he should seme dishabled to inherlte the cruvne 
by the duke of Yorke, and the prince by him. To lay bs>- 
tardy in kynge Edward, sowned openly to the rebuke c4 
the protectours owne mother, which was mother to then 
both: for in that point could be none other colour, hot to 
pretend that his own mother was one aduouteresse wliich 
not withstanding to farther this purpose he letted not: 
but Natlieles he would the point should be lesse sod 
more fauorably handle<l, not euen fully plain and directly, 
but that the matter should be touched aslope crsftely. 
as though men spared in the point to speke al the Uoath 
for fere of his displeasure." 

The bastardy of Edward had been alleged previAosIy 
One of the counts in the attainder of Clarence, 1478. vm 
that he " falsely and uutruely published, that the Uif 
was a bastard, and not Intimate to reign** (Slovt, 
pp. 431, 432). And Commines, sub anno 1475. teUs btfv 
Louis de Creville, a Burgundian, In an interview vilh 
Louis XI., "comnien9a Itcontrefalre le due de Bourfognt. 
et It frapper du pied contre terre, et It Jurer St Qenft 
et qu'll appeloit le roy d'Angleterre BUtnc-boigBa. Hi 
d'un archer qui portoit son nom " (Memoiras, l^ iv. dL8. 
in Pantheon Lltt^raire, Choix de Chroniqnes et MemolRi. 
1830, p. 102). This is altered in the old English tnul*- 

887. Lines 70-79: TeU them how Edward put to dMUk • 
citizen, ^c— This refers to the execution of one JIntM. 
not— as Gray gives the name— ITaUrer. AU that Uen 
says (p. 100) is "as though Burdet were forvotten, thil 
was for a worde spoken in hast, cruelly behedded, hj thi 
misconstruing of the lawes of thys realme for the piiiMi 
plesure." But HaU adds (p. 309): "Thia Burdet wmt 
marcha&t dwellyng in Chepesyd at y« signe of f < 
which now is y* signe of y* flowre de luae oner 
soper lane : This man merely in y« rufllyng tyme of kj*f 

ACT III. florae 5. 


ACT III. Scene 6. 

Edward y* UiJ. hU rage, taied to hig awne soune that he 
would make hym in heritor of y« croune, meanyng hyg 
awne hooae: bat these wordes king Edward made to be 
myscongtmed, A interpreted that Burdet meant the 
croune of the realme: wherfore within lease space then 
iiij. honres, he was apprehended, iudged, drawen and 
quartered in Chepesyde." 

m. Lines dOSL—Theae and other accosations against 
Edward IV. were embodied in an extraordinary petition, 
purporting to come ftom the Lords and Commons, which 
was presented by Buckingham; it may still be read in 
the Rot Par. tL 240, 241. 

m. Lines 89-00.— There was no ground for this accusa- 
tion. According to William of Winchester, Vork, who was 
Regent of Krance at that time, came over to England on 
purpose to see his wife. See Bitson's note, Var. Ed. 
vol. xix. p. 133. 

Linea 101. 102: 
Iffo; atut towardt three or four o'doek 
lAickfor the nettt that the OuildhaU a fords. 

Printed in Qq. as if it were prose. The first line cer- 
tainly does not scan; and both read more as if Uiey were 
intended for prose than rerse. 

401. Linea 103. 104: 

Go, Lovel, with all speed to Doctor Shaw.— 
[To Cateaby.] Go thou to Friar Penker. 

Ifoetor Shaw, or Shaa, was brother to the Lord Mayor. 
More speaks of him (p. 88X " and freer Penker prounciail 
of the Augustine freers both doctors of diuinite, both 
gret precbars, both of more learning then vertue, of more 
fame then leming." 

Line 106: Baynard* CantU gave its name to one 
of the warda of the City of London. A long account of 
this interesting castle, the scene of many historic events, 
will be found in Stow's Survey of London, 1683 (pp. 59-61). 
It to<^ its name from one Baynard, a nobleman, who 
came over with the Conqueror, and died in the reign of 
William Buf us. In the reign of John it belonged to one 
Boberi Fftswater, whose daughter, Matilda, the king tried 
to rmTfsh. fitnrater was banished, and Baynard's Castle 
was partly destroyed in the year 1214, being "spoiled" 
by the kfang. When John was in France, Fitzwater, who 
was flirting on the French side, so distinguished himself 
that the king remarked his great courage ; and, at the 
eazneat request of some of his friends, he was restored to 
the royal faroor and to his poaaesslons in England. The 
<;astle appear* to have passed out of the possession of the 
Fitzwatcr family. In 1428 it was entirely destroyed by 
Ore, and was rebuilt by Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester; 
OB whose death, 1446^ while under attainder, it came into 
the poneiiion of Henry VL, and was given by him as a 
residence to Blchard, Duke of York. It appears that it 
in Baynard's Caatle that York was reaiding when the 
ras nade with Henry by which he was acknow- 
ledgsd beir to the throne, Henry's own son, the Prince 
of Walea. being then disinherited It was from here also 
that Edward IV. set oat in procession, when he went to 
be erowned ai Weatminster, and it was here that Blchard 

himself accepted the crown— as is represented In scene 7 
of this act. Henry VII. restored the castle in 1501. and 
resided there for some time. Mary, daughter of Henry 
VIII., also resided there, after the unsuccessful attempt 
of Lady Jane Orey on the throne, and it was there that, 
in 1563, she was declared queen. Baynard's Castle was 
totally destroyed in the Great Fire, 1666. In Smith's 
Description of England (1588X in the Bird's Eye View 
of London, plate 28 [Beprint, 1879], the castle is figured 
on the bank of the river, in a straight line with the. west 
end of St. Paul's ; and in Norden's Plan of London (1503). 
prefixed to Harrison's Description of England (Beprint, 
Xew 8hak. Soc.X it is seen marked between Paul's Wharf 
and filackfriars. 

408. Line 108: And to give NOTICE that no MANNER per- 
son.— Notice is the reading of Qq., in order to avoid the 
repetition of order (see line 106 above), which is the read- 
ing of Ff. Chaucer has in The Wife of Bath's Tale (line 
6709), maner riine = " manner of rhyme: " 

Lo, in swiche maner rime is Dante's tale. 

Wherever Shakespeare uses the phrase manner of men, 
e.g. I. Henry VI I. 3. 74, I. Henry IV. li. 4. 828. 462. As 
You Like It, ill. 2. 216, he never omits the preposition ; 
but for a similar elliptical construction, compare I. Henry 
VL i. 2. 101. 


401— This scene only consists of fourteen lines, yet in 
those fourteen lines there are no less than fourteen differ- 
ences between Q. 1 and F. 1. Many of these are unimpor- 
tant, and only one. that in line 10, is decidedly in favour 
of Q. 1 ; yet the Cambridge edd. religiously adopt the 
readings of Q. 1 all through; and, in one case, lines 10, 11: 

Why who 's so gross. 
That cannot see this palpable device t 

which is the reading of Ff. , they reject the reading of Qq. 
" That sees not;" and. rather than adopt the very simple 
reading of Ff., which suits both sense and metre, they 
print a conjecture of their own "That seeth not." Surely 
prejudice could go no further than this. 

406. Line 1.— This indictment, according to More, was 
a proclamation made by a herald through the city imme- 
diately after dinner on the day of Hastings' execution. 
The speech in the text was probably suggested by the 
following passage in More (p. 81): "Now was this pro- 
clamacion made within ii. houres after that he was be- 
heded, and it was so curiously indited, and so fair writen 
in parchment in so wel a set hande, and therwith of it self 
so long a processe, that eueri child might wel perceiue, 
that it was prepared before. For al the time betwene his 
death and the proclaming could scant haue sufllsed vnto 
the bare wryting alone, all had it bene but in paper and 
scribled forth in hast at aduenture." 

Line 10 : Here *s a good world the tchile ! Why, 
%eho*s so gross.— Th\% Is the reading of Qq., which, in this 
case, is preferable to that of Ff. **Who is so gross?" 
though in the very next line the difference is in favour 
of Ff. (see note 404). 

407. Line 12: Yet who so B(»ld but says he sees it not? 



" wtH> •■> NiiHl. ~ The 

I poMtd. OM«iiqiiIt*ln«lMtliitllMi«lalkaaDdhaM. 
I not p n w id oC K tUMUMl mrwMca tor Hh 1% d 
' Xin; WITH, Bt^ kn« Mm up mow at tk«i Ikn 

; dM; Witt Au Bii«nli 

•rblch ba ufi that Ihe Di 

Ika klBc'a [iunli«e *IUl £U»baUi Oi 

hul not bar vLtb ( 
BuckinghuD) vbLdi 
of FuUuofiut already alludi 

duughlar ot On nid ] 
Tol, It, p. US, oho 
"Bol. ParL tI. SM. 2' 

«Udl tadj. Aa to Ktlwaid'i 
lo Uw Lwly Xhh, dMafbtir 

iliMr tu Uie (taeen ol Louli 
«n mart trath In Cbia aHe- 
itnU that, aC the time Edward 
lalieUi, Warwick had alreadr 
iJi'i conaenC to Ihe marriage 
It the King-nater <rai Juitlf 


Une S: AM hii mfantnuntiif Urn eity hi'tm.— 
A hi g«, aa alao line 11 below. The OBlHton 
ifi nh el BBcklacham'a in t^' ••• pecolUr, and 
lacltned to aaapwrt that they wtp made ant at 
KB to (he teelli^a Ot EUiabeth. The allqiatloa* 
igalnit Eilwanl were letf ilmllar to tboae ttuda 
on truth agalnit Benrjr VIII. He, It win be re- 
Tmbered, pronamiced, et cathedra, hla own marriage 


fonner cohaldUllon with her 
deeree. he had, nereitaril]'. iMit 
at would here be tr 

1. hj II 

il hla 

Isbr Mote (pp. (0, «> In 

I In r. 1, prDbablf [nte^lonillj. 

r1 of Shrewibury.'' See Llngard, 
Tea hii autboritf In a toot-nate 
; " adding that (he very etlatence 
ol thb penoD hai been called Id quealion; but the 
appaati lo hare been the Int-beni oC the aecond iut- 
rh«B at the Karl ot Starewabury with the daochlar at 
HWBhwaip. Eul ot Warwick, aad widow at Mr lloniaa 
BUUIn. LDrd Sodeley. It li watti) nmarklBs that la 
Beywaod, I. Edwurd IV..KIngBdwardde(endahlarhotca 
ot I'dy Orey im lb« frDond that ka mgbt to nwiry aa 
EnRliah woman raUiar than a lorelxii'r (Worka, tol. I. 
p. b). Altboogfa Iba dnehaaa aUa<ka to the accuution 
a^Ht the BollHr at ZUubeth, the DucbeH uf Beilfutd. 

til. Uoe 16: Bui, likt dumfr grinrU 
Cnnee.— <iq- Ft. read itatuei. (See II. Bmrr Tl. mti 
\m.) BrntUnijf lilbemdtDgotQ. I. (t 1 FE IbeRal 
of the old eoptea bare treatJUuv, a resdf^ wfctc* MM 
edlton prefer: while uthen«i)brtKiiteaii>tHMAv,wHA 
waa Bowe'i coDjectiire, Then, it >w neeeaitty for aHv. 
\at tb> («t; the neutiw bal^ that t^ atued Mill 
■a (toaa, although they wen tnatkuir b^aaa beia^ 

" tnotJUiv atonea " la Bore poetical tbaa the aoMwU 
lanlologlcal reading at the later ()q. 

41J. Uae SS: Bit antirsr vat.—lkt pttpU hm ax 
DBED.— rriHJIanoteUd 
for the aake at Ihe don 

<U. Line M: Tt bt ipokt t*. Int ty Ou mKoaiiO.- 
Both Q. 1 and r. 1 haie a omhwi altai la, wkteh Mim 
omlu, and. followlDg Walker, place* in aecoM an Ibaint 
lyUable of TccerdrT', but tlii; ptouunclatlan ot rmrda. 
according to Dyce'i nrtangemeiit, aa a creUc or anpU- 
macer (-.-), wonM fnvitlre placing as aceest «■ the lut 
■yllaUe ot that word, which la very awfcwaiil. Tin 
cei—a la Ihe old eoplaa tadlcBlea ■ paiM, by w^ at 

•ooiewbat clUptleaL ui 
to >ay l> that Ihe peepb 
■a be ipoken (s <fiFTeH|r. tat cnlr 

tAroHgA the reainlgr. The penon rn 
the time waa Thomaa (lUwDliam. The oBlce ot r««»*r 
ti now that ot a Jadge; and he unat ba ■ hanMEtnf 
at leaat llTe yeati' itaDdlng. 7n tamer ttmea It wnaU 
aeem tliat the recorder did all the talking lor the otion- 
tlon, a taakwhlch.nowiidayi. It t> to be fenrd, b* mW 
Dad nther laborlong. In a icirce and ttnOtt nrt 
called TheItlneraDtninT)weBndthetDlIawlng|MV 
raferrlng to (bii word : - Ttow, ymr know, Mr, l u — g. 
the Rcfltder, la iuppoeeil not to be a txil; and ■ H b 
neceMary amongat the body corporate to ' 
of common nnie. the lain ol Che onm tt y ( 
general deficiency) place a rrarrtter to take i 
flagrant ermn are committed: who acta ]a 
nan doei with hla puppeta— be moret thi 
imOn o« their iprrOif" (ToL H. p, WIJ 

Ut. UneST: ^nd EiiH / leak (ha >«ila0a 
—Omitted In IJq. 

41*. UnaU: Jfa, »vta«fnlk,>i»Unl 

<U. Unei IS-SI.-Tke way In wlllcb : 
eomea the lead here li rather annuhtg. He la dell|W)< 
with theincceuot hlipowen of acting, ot which ln*> 
BO prond. (See aboTe^nole M3). We can tmaftne (JloAr 
looking at him with a aly, eaieaatle unlle, amsaed al be 




ACT III. HoeiM 7. 

■ttmplhv to f*V Ch* leMlBf iplrlt, «im1 kmndiiff well 
Uiat neithar BackinglHBi. mor ftajront dw, eoald giv* iUm 
Itwonfl in hjpotJkf. At lk« Maw tlaw K li quite poe- 
' cible UuU Bichtfd Miloariy resented Bacldnffham'i want 
(if tact, at this point* in pretending to order him about, 
and in making It i^ipear hm it he was the commanding 
spirit and not Oloater. ; 

ilT Unc 49: For oh Otat gkoumd J'U make a holy I 
ia here tha Mma aa wliat waa called , 
doea not neecaiarily mean " Taria^ 
tioii,''aaitiaaeMnaijesplainad. 8ae Two Gent. nota2l/ 

411. Line 51: Play the maitr»part,—etiit aneteer ttay, 
amd f«ft» it— Coapart PMrinnife Pilgrim, SS». 9»: 
UOTe yoa MC baud k Mid ftiil oft. 
A ■mmmmm's m^ dolh aland far aoiiKhty 

Bjron has titUiied this common satire on the value of a '. 
troman't nay^ in the well-knowii line in Don Juan: 

Aad wUsperinc " I win ne'er consent "— conientcd. 

— C. I. St. cxvfi. 

illL LiM 54: Xe detiAi WS'LL krimff it to a hmpi>y 
wMM.— 8a Q«.; FC have "ira bniiiL'' 

tft. Line 60: Weieome, my tori: I PAircE attkitdanci : 

HniK.— This phnse is only used bj Shakespeare In two < 

other placca—in IT. BtnrjYl. 1. 8. 174: " I dan^d atten- J 

danee on his wUl ;* and Heni7\TIL r. 2. 81: j 

To dmna eiUendatift on their lordships' pteasuret. ■ 

4tL Line 56: Xow, Cate^by, what myt yoxir lord to my I 

reqfteatf- Here we hare an instancoDf a snperflnous syl- I 

lahle at the beginning of a line. Viis is the reading of i 
Ff.; Qi|. haw: ■• 

I feve he wil, how bow Catcsby. 
What aaies jour Lordt 

which tha Cambridge add. adopt, arranging it thos: 
How now, Catesbj. what uyk your lord? 

Line 97: /h deep detigna* matters qf great 
moment.— 9o Qf^; FT. have: 

la dfe^ desipica, in matter of great ntomcnt. 

MIL UaaTS: H^Ib met UMJUNOeaa lewd i^at-bsd.— 
Both Qq, aadrt hava ImUi^. It would seem that loU 
and tatf art vary daadj ooonaetBd. Skeat sajs of lott ; 
«*Thaaklar8aBas«'doaa;tosleanhcDee to 
hcood avar tha §t% ta tasnge about It appears to be a 
BMra darivaUiraof fall, La. to sing ta sleep." Bat that 
they wcfft dtedact woxda^ Im Shaktspeara's time, would 
appear tnm the fact that ha wea {mU. Im ita ocdinary 
Sanaa, fa faor paasagsa, of which wa give ssi aiample 
bclaw; and ha only oaaa Ml fa two pasMUfs fa Tnilus 
and Creasidi^ L H Itt: 

The laise AchlUcs, on his preu'd bed IMing; 
and Othello, ir 1. 148: "So hangs, and loOa, and weeps 
upon me.* In both these places in the old copies it is 
spelt ML ImO, ta Its ordinary sense. Is used in Mids. 
Night's Dream, it I. 254: 

Luird in tbcw flower* whh dnca and Sttight. 

ralsgrare, 1590. gives: "I Mf one about the ears." He 
«Iso gives: **\ /oil on ny anna." Baiet, 1578, does not 
«ive luU at all, nor tha varb fa l/ok, but only lulli%\g. 

iriiich he tnuwlatea by ''flagging. Flaccidns, da, dnm. 
Plfa. nache, Fus^" Minahen, 1W9. gives: "to liOL as 
the nurse doth her childe." LoU he does not give at all. 
Sherwood, in his English dictionary appended to Cot- 
grave (1650X gives "To UM (or leane on). S^aeemider 
eur;** and under '*Tenir la teete eur VoreiUer,'* "To IM 
a bed." Cotgrave also gives "Aeeopir. To lay, bring, or 
ItiU. asleep;" and under "Miffnetrder. To luU, feddle, 
dandle, cherish, wautonnize, make much, or make a wan- 
ton, of."- It is in this latter sense, perhapa» that Chaucer 
uses lull in The Marchantes Tale (line 9007): 

He /M//MA hire, he kisseth hire ful oft. 

But I can find no instance of ItiU, in this sense, being 
used intransitively, nor of the word loU being printed 
lull. It is possible, therefore, that IfUl might be the 
right reading here in the Benie of "wantoning." We have 
followed Dyce and most modem editors, however, in 
adopting Pope's emendation lolling. Day-bed is the read- 
ing of Qq. and is preferable to that of FT. lotebed. which 
looks like a gloss. Shakespeare uses day-bed fa T¥ralfth 
Night, ii. 5. 54: " having come from a day-bed, where I 
have left Olivia sleeping/' where it means a couch, or 
sofa, on which the afternoon nap was generally taken. 
Speaking of Achilles, in the Iron Age (v. 1), Heywood 

Hec doft his Cu^c» awl vaann'il hi* head. 
To tumble with her on a soft Jtiy btd, 

—Works, Tol, iii. p. 415. 

Line 70: .Vof eleeptng, t» ksoboss hiM idle body.— 
Dr. Aldis Wright quotes from Harrison's Description of 
England (Reprint New Shak. 80c. p. 142): " they far ex- 
ceed vs fa ouer much and dlstemperate gormandize, and 
so ingroaee tlieir bdlies that diuerse of them doo oft be- 
come vnapt to anie other purpose than to spend their 
tiroes fa large tabling and bellle eiieere." Harrison is 
speaking of Scotchmen, though his description could 
have had little general application to that hardy nation. 
Cotgrave gives under "tfEugroeeir ... to fattan. vt 
battle apace. ' 

486. Line 79: Take on rix^ielf the mrrreignty therrqf. 
-So Qq. ; Ft have "Take on hU grocer 

Line 80: Bui, SUEI. I fear we ^kall not win him to 
At— Dyce adopU Collier's MS. correction "eore I fear, ' 
and quotea from The Merchant of Venice, v. L 300, 307: 

I 'U fear no other thint; 
So sare as keeping safe Nerista's ring ; 

but there seems no necessity for altering the text. 

487. Lines 82, 83: 

I /ear he tcUl: here Cateiby comee again; 

-Vf/ir, Catftiby, what «ay« hie grace t 

80 Ff.; Q. 1, followed l)y other Quartos, has: 

♦ I fcar he win 

M91B now, Cateiby, what taj%y»nr ItrHt 

4M. Line 03: beotfs.— Many persons forget the real 
meaning of this word bead, which is a "prayer." S«-e 
Two Oent note 4. 

40. UnesOe. 00: 

And, $ee, a book 0/ prayer in hie hand, — 
Trtu OKNAMERT!* to know a holy man. 


ACT III. Scene 7 


ACT III. Scene 7. 

These two lines are omitted iu Qq. ; Ft have omamefUt, 
referring to the two biBhops at well at the prayer-book. 
Dyce prefers to read ornament, which would make it 
refer to the prayer-book only. 

480. Line 101: Lend /avmtrabU EAR to our REQUEST.— 
Qq. have earg; Ff. have requetta. 

481. Line 105: / RATHER do beseech you pardon me.— 
This is the reading of Qq. ; Ff. have: 

I do beseech yonr grace to pardon me. 

Below, in line 108, Gloater calls Bnckingham you,r grace; 
liut the reading of Qq. seems preferable here. 

485. Line 120: Yoitr atate f\f fortune aiui your due of 
birth. - Omitted by Qq. 

488. Line 125: Tuis ntA>le i»le doth want HER proper 
lurtba.—Ho Qq. ; Ff. have "The noble isle; " also read "hie 
instead of her here, and below, in lines 126 and 127. 

481 Lines 127, 128: 
Her royal stock ORAFT with ignoble plants, 
A nd almost SUOULDER'D IN the swaUowing gulf. 

The first of these lines is omitted by Qti. Compare XL 
Henry VI. iii. 2. 213. 214: 

and noble stock 
Was grii^ with crab-tree slip. 

Graft is the participle of the verb to graff, French greffer, 
English graff, from which the modem verb to graft has 
been formed, just as the verb to hoist is formed from the 
verb to hoise. Various emendations have been suggested 
for the word shouldered. Johnson suggested smouldered 
= " smothered :" but there is no necessity for altering the 
text. The expression is quite intelligible and verygraphic, 
the meaning being "pushed into," as a person pushes 
another with his shoulders. In is frequently used for 
info. Compare Sonnet cxii. 9: 

/» so profound abysm I throw all care; 

and Tempest, ii. 2. 5: "pitch me ** the mire." We And 
to shoulder, in the same sense, iu I. Henry VI. iv. 1. 189: 

This shouldering of each other in the court, 

the only other place in which Shakespeare uses it. 

486. Line 129: Of DARK forgetfulness and Dli%P oblivion. 
- -Qq. read blind for dark, and dark for deep, which most 
editors prefer; but surely the epithet blind is somewhat 
out of place. 

). Line 130: Which to RECURE.— Shakespeare uses the 
verb to reeure in Venus and Adonis, 466: 

A smile recurts the wounding of a frown; 

and in Sonnet xlv. 9: 

I'ntil life's composition be rtcnr'd. 

.Some commentators explain it as "to recover," but that 
is hardly an accurate explanation. It means " to make 
well again." We have reeure, in this sense, used substan- 
tively in Lilly's Endymion, ii. 1: "fall into a disease 
without all reettre ** (Works, vol. i. p. 21). Chapman also 
uses it in the Argument to Iliad, book v. , speaking of the 
wounded Mars: " Mars is recur'd by Pceon." Compare 
nnreeurtd in Lilly's Ancient Ballads and Broadsides 
(1870); " vnreeured tore!" (p. 28X 


487. Line 185t BtU as svccmasiv^LT, from blood to hltod. 
—Compare IL Henry IV. iv. & 202: 

So thou the garUnd wear'at sMccesrtvefy. 

488. Line 136: Your right (^ birth, your EXPERT, yimr 
otrn.— Compare Cymbeline, i. 6. 119, 120: 

A lady 
So fair and fasten'd to an em/ery. 

489. Lines 144-163.— These lines are omitted in Qq.; bat 
they are certainly necessary. They explain the c^penin^ 
sentences of the speech, and give a finish to Olouecstefs 
hypocrisy. They are lines which scarcely any actor 
would wish to omit. 

440. Line 160; / CHKCK'D my friends. — Cheek'd here 
means "rebuked." Compare II. Henry IV. iii. 1. 68: 

Then cheek'd and rated by Northumberland. 

441. Line 168: the stealing hours qf (»m^.— Compare 
Hamlet, v. 1. 79: "age, with his stealing stepa;" and 
Comedy of Errors, iv. 2. 60: "Time comes stealing on." 

Line 184: A care-crafd mother to a manysons.- 
This is the reading of Ff. ; Qq. read " o/a many children.' 
Elizabeth Woodville had only three children, a daughter 
and two sons, when Edward married her. llie mm* 
were the chief objects of hatreil and envy on the poit 
of Edward's own family and partisans. For the expre»- 
sion a many compare Merchant of Venice, iii 5. 73: ''f 
many fools." 

448. Lines 185, 186: 

A beauty-waning and distressed tcidote. 
Epen in the afternoon of her best days. 

This personal abuse of Elizabeth, on the part of Bockiiw- 
ham. is essentially mean. She could not be said to be i» 
the aftemootx of her best days, considering that she wai 
only twenty-seven when she married Edward, and bore 
him no less than seven children. 

444. Line 189: To base declension and loath'd BIOAXT. 
—Bigamy is said to have l>een defined by the secood 
Council of Lyons, 1274, as consisting in either manyiog 
two virgins or a widow. Certainly this ia not the caaoo 
law of the Church of Rome at present; ai the naptfal ^ 
nedictiou is not refused in the case where the huiibami ii 
marrying for the second time, but only in the case where 
the bride is a widow. But this refusal does not afect 
the validity or sanctity of the marriage in the «yes of Uie 
C%urch. In the time of Edward IV., however, it v» 
considered bigamy to marry a widow ; and Mors, wbo 
was copied by the other chroniclers, gives It ai cos o( 
the arguments used by the Duchess of York to her sMt» 
dissuade him from his marriage with Elizabeth. 

445. Lines 192-194: 

More bitterly could I bxpostulats. 
Save that, for reverence to sotne aiive, 
I give a sparing limit to my tongue. 

I>r. Aldis Wright explains expostulaU *'to set fbrtb !■ 

detail;" and quotes the well-known passage tai Bavlet 

U. 2. 86, 87: 

to exfashi/mte 

What majesty should be. 




ACT IV. Scene 1. 

There la no doubt ttuit the word ii frequently used in 
that sense; but surely here it means "to remonstrate." 
Buckingham probably means that he is altout to touch 
on the alleged illegitimacy of Edward, but is restrained 
liy considerations both for Richard and his mother; and 
that he remembered the caution given him by the for- 
mer. .See a1>OTe. iii. 5. 03, M. 

Line 202: JU/iae not, mighty lord, this proffer'd 
tore.— Omitted by Qii. 

M7. Line 213: tgaUy.—l\i\% is the reading of the first 
six Q 1. and F. 1; the other Ff. and Q. 7, Q. 8 have the 
more mo«lem form egitally. At the beginning of chap. 
XX. lib. i. of Puttenham's Arte of English Poesie is tlie 
following: " In euerie degree and sort of men vertue is 
commendable, but not egally" (Reprint, litll. p. 340). In 
The Merchant of Venice, iii. 4. 13, the reading of F. 1 is: 

^liose souls do bear an ejc^ii/ yoke of love 

Line 214: Yet WHETHKR you accept our sttit or no. 
—So Qq.; F. 1 has Vet WHER (the contracted form of 

449 Lines 219, 220: 

Come, eitizena: zounimj, / 'II entreat no more, 
Glo. O. do not ttcear, my lord qf Buckingham. 

So Qq. ; Ff. omit 20und$ and consequently the whole of 
line 220. The omissibn was made on account of the act 
of James I., so often referreti to, against the use of the 
name of God and profane swearing on the stage. But it 
is a pity to lose such an admirable touch of hypocrisy as 
Gloster s rebuke of Buckingham. 

450. Line 220: Exit Buckingham; the Mayor, Alder- 
men, uid CiUxens are following him. -We have sliglitly 
altered the stage-direction here, and below, in line 224, 
in order to make it clear that all the citizens do not go 
off the stage. In fact they scarcely have time to do that. 
If they were all to go off, and then to return with Buck- 
ingham and Catesby after line 226 below. Gloucester 
would have no one to speak to after Catesby's exit. See 
lines 224-226. 

451. Line 224: / am not made o/ stone.— So Pope: Qq. 
Ff. have the same mistake, stones. 

4iS. Line 247: FarstreU, good cousin;— farexeeU, gentle 
//if mb. — So Qq. ; Ff. have "my cousins.** 


4M.— Johnson proposed to include this scene in the 
third act; an interval would thus be left between the 
acts snfflclent for the coronation to have taken place and 
for Dorset lo have made his escape to Brittany. The 
scene seems inserted for little purpose except to make 
known the princaa' imprisonment, and as. in this fourth 
act, their Uvea are ended, it seems best to leave this scene 
as the opening one. As Mr. Daniel observes, there is not 
much coiuidention of the natural duration of time in any 
part of this i^y. 

414. Line 1: Duch. Who muts us here? —my NIEOX 
T'lanbi^peiMf.— Clarence's daughter, the Lady Margaret 
Plantagenet, was the Duchess of York's granddaughter, 

and in this sense, as pointed out in the foot-note, the word 
niee« is here used. Compare Othello, i. 1. 112. and Mar- 
lowe, Dido Queen of Carthage, act ii. : 

yenus. Sleep, my sweet nefhnv, in these coolinif shades. 

—Works, p. 959. 

where Venus is addressing .Eneas' son Ascanius. Hiece 
and nephew were not confined in meaning to one relation- 
ship, but were used of several. See Two Gent, of Verona, 
note 91, King John, note 108. and note 242 supra, on the 
use of cousin. In the Authorized Version of the Bible 
nephew always means grandson. 

455. Line 4: to greet the tender PRINCES.— We have 
adopted Theobald's emendation. Ff. read prince, but 
wrongly, as line 10 shows. 

456. Line 39: Dorset, ttpeak not to me, get thee HENCE I 
—So Qq. ; Ff. have gone instead of hence. Dorset wa» 
one of those who raised forces in the west of England 
when the quarrel broke out between Buckingham and 
Richard. The floods of the Severn prevented a junction 
between them and the Welshmen; and many fled to Brit- 
tany, among them Dorset, and Elizabeth's brother. Ed- 
ward Wootlville (see Hall, p. 393). 

457. Lines 55. 56: 

A COCKATRICE hast thou hatch'd to the world. 
Whose unavoided eye is murderous. 

There arc many allusions to the fatal quality of the glance 
of this Iegen<I.'iry serpent, which was called indifferently 
by the names cockatrice and basilisk. See II. Henr>' VI. 
note 185; and compare III. Henry VI. iii. 2. 187; Romeo 
and Juliet, iii. 2. 47: Lucrece, 540. 

458. Line 5!): the inclusive VERGE.— Compare Richard 
II. ii. 1. 102; where John of Gaunt, speaking of the crown, 

And yet, incaf^ed in so small a vcrf-e; 

and for the technical sense of the word verge, see note 
120 on that passage. 

459. Line 79: EVEN IN so short a SPACE.— So Qq.; Ff. 
have " Within so short a time." 

4fl0. Line 82: Which ever SINCE hath KEPT mine eyes 
from rest.— We have followed the reading of Qq. ; Ff. have 
" hitherto h&th held." 

461. Lines 83-85: 

For never yet one hmir in his bed 

Have / enjoy'd the golden dew 0/ sleep. 

But have been waked by his timorous dreams. 

Lines 84, 85 are from Qq. F. 1 reads instead : 

Did I enioy the golden deaw of sleepe. 

But wUk his timorous dreams it'iis stUl atuak'd. 

More says that, after the murder of the princes, Richard 
"neuer hadde quiet in his minde, hee neuer thought 
himself sure. ... he toke ill rest a nightes, lay long 
wakyng and musing, sore weried with care and watch, 
rather slumbred than slept, troubled wyth fearful 
dreames," <S:c. (p. 133, 134). 

488. Line 89: THo more than FROM my soul 1 mourn /or- 
yours.— 9o Qq. ; Ff. read with. 

468. Line 90: Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory!— 

129 «a 

ACT IV. Scene 1. 


ACT IV. ^jc ue 1 

Ff. give this speech to Dorset In the Cambridge £d. 
the note says that Qq. give 0i as the name of the speaker 
(i.e. Queen Eliz.). But Q. 1 certainly has Dw as the pre- 
fix. We follow moat editors in giving it to Queen Eliza- 
beth, since the next speech, which is an answer to this, 
is plainly addressed to her. 

461 Line 04: Oo thou to tanetuary, good thoughtt pot- 
Meis thee /—So Qq. Ff. have 

* Go thou to Sanctuarie, and good, thoughts possesse thee. 

and both Dyce and the Cambridge edd. retain this. But 
the additional syllable destroys the euphony of the line, 
and we have accordingly rejected it. 

466. Lines 08-l(H are omitted in Qq. No doubt they 
were marked for omission in the theatre copy from which 
Q. 1, in all probability, was partly printed. 

ACT IV. Scene 2. 

466.— Ff. include Ratcliff and Lovel among the persons 
present in this scene, and, though they have noUiing to say, 
we have retained them; as it seems likely that they, being 
the king's favourites, were intended to accompany him. 

467. Lines 8, 9: 

Ah, Buckingham, now do I PLAY the TOUCH, 
To try if thoii be current gold indeed. 

The meaning is "act or play the part of the touchstone." 
Touch, with this meaning, occurs in Ralph Roister Doister. 
ii. 2: 

But yonder cometh forth a weuch or a lad: 

If he have not one Lombard's t^ttck, my luck is bad. 

— Dodiiley. iii. &>. 

Compare, also, A Wuniiu}; for Fair Women, 1599, act ii.: 

now the houre is come 
To put your love unto the touch, to try 
lfitb< current, or but counterfeit. 

—School of Shakspere, il 339. 

Concerning "the stone, which they call in Latin eotiexila,* 
Pliny writes (Nat. Hist. bk. xxxiii. ch. 8), "all the sort of 
them are but small. ... By means of these touch- 
stones, our cunning and expert mine-masters, if they 
touch any ore of these mcttals, which with a pickax or 
file they have gotten forth of the vcine in the mine, will 
tell you by and by > how much gold there is in it, how 
much silver or brasse," <l'c. (Holland's Translation, ii. p. 
478). The Clarendon l*ress edition notes, from King's 
Natural History of Gems (p. 153), the statement that the 
present touchstone is a black Jasper, the best pieces of 
which come from India. It seems to have been some- 
times reckoned among precious stones. 

Line 27: The king ig angry; fee, he gnaxn hi* lip.~ 
Hall (p. 421) says, "when ho stode musing he woulde 
byte and chaw besely his nether lippe, as who sayd, that 
his fyerce nature in his cruell body alwaies chafed, 
sturred and was neuer vnquiete." 

468. Lines 4&-48: 

Uow noiof tchat ttewt with you! 

My lord. I hear 

1 i.e. at oBce. 


The Marquets Dorset *»Jled heyond the teat 
To Richmond, in thote partt where he eibidet. 
In the old copies this passage is printed iu a very con- 
fused manner. Q. 1 reads: 

How now, what neewes with you? 

Darby. My l.(Mrd, I heare the Marques Dorset 
Is fled to Richmond, in those partes beyond the seas where he 


How now, Lord Stanley, what's the newest 

Stanley. Know my louin|f I^rd, the Marque^sc Dorset 
As I heare. is fled to Richmond, 
In the parts where he abides. 

Various arrangements have been made of these lines 
Those who adopt the reading of Q. 1 arrange them thus: 

How now ! what news with you? 

Stanley. My lord, I hear the Marquess Dorset's fled 
To Richmond \n those parts beyond the seas 
Where he abides. 

Those who adhere to the reading of F. 1 thus: 

How now, Lord Stanley? what 's the news? 

St,tH/ey. Know, my lovint; lord 
The Marquess Dorset, as I hear, is fled 
To Richmond in tlie parts where he abides. 

Tlie arrangement in our text is made up inirtly frtmiQ. 1, 
and partly fn>m F. 1, and has tlie advantage of avoiding 
the two broken lines; perhaps, if anything, to make the 
sense a little clearer. 

The whole of Uie rest of this scene is, from a dranisUc 
point of view, one of the most effective portions of the 
play. It exhibits the wonderfully versatile power o( 
Richard's mind. Though he makes no answer to j^tanky, 
he hears perfectly well the message he has brought: bat 
he takes no ostensible notice of it till he repeats the sab- 
stance of it to Buckingham, below, in line 84. The coarse 
of thought he was before pursuing— namely, how to get 
rid of all other claimants to the throne, and to make hii 
usurped position sure— he still continues in his mind, 
putting aside the question of Dorset's escape for after 
consideration. In the course of the next two or three 
minutes he has formed Ids plans by which he proposes 
to secure his throne, as he thinks, against every poesiblt 
contingency. The concentration of his mind, which enables 
him to come to such a rapid decision, is craftily concealed 
under the guise of an abstraction which the unwsi7 
might mistake for inattention or indifference. 

470. Line 49: Come hither, Catenby. [Stanley retires.] - 
Rumour it abroad.— The Cambridge eild. were the lint 
to insert in the text a stagedirecticm [Standi apart] after 
Stanley's speech, which reiuiers it easier for the reader 
to understand how it is Richard can convey his secret 
instructions to Catesby and to Tyrrcl without any fearuf 
being overheard. We have placed a similar stage-direc- 
tion a little further on. as in the text, because it b pro- 
bable that Stanley would not retire at once after deliver- 
ing his message: but he would do so, naturally*, when be 
saw the king call Catesby to him. as if wishing to speak 
to him apart. Our text, as usual, follows F. 1. Q. 1 ivadi: 

A't'tt^. Catesby. Cat. My Lord. 

A'inj,'. Rumor it abroad 
That Anne my wife &c. 

471. Line 64: Thebuy i^foolith, and I /earnot him.^The 

AiTT IV. SoeiM 2. 


ACT IV. Scene 2. 

boy is Edward Flantagenet, CUrence's son, born in 1470 
(■ee note A\ Bichwd kept him m a prlioner in " tlie 
maner oi Sheryhattou in the countie of Yoiic " (Hall, p. 
422). Henry VII. transferred him to the Tower, where 
he lay "almost frd his tender age, that is to saye, frO 
[the] flrat yere of the kyng [Henry VII.] to th^s . xv. yere, 
out uf al cdpany of me & sight of beastes, I so much that 
he could not disceme a Goose from a Capon " (ut mipra, 
p. 490; copied from Polydore Virgil). 

47B. Line 57: it STANDS me much uroN. — Compare 
Ciimedy of Errors, iv. 1. 68: 

Consider how it stands upon iny credit. 

€78. Line 63: At, my tord— So Qq.; Ff. have Plecue 
i/fitt, my lord. 

471 Line 81: Tyr. / wiU ditpatch U atmight—ThiB is 
the reading of Ff.; Qq. have: 

Tir. Tis done my fraciou>t lord. 

A'i'tg: Slial we heare from thee Tirrel ere we sleepet 

Tir. Ye shall my lunL 

The two additional lines, as Collier pointed out, are a 
mere repetition, taken from iii. 1. 188, 189. 

475. Line S3: The late DEMAND that you did sound me 
in. —.So Qq. ; Ft read request. 

476 Lines 89, 90: 

Th' earldom qf Uere/ortt, and the moveables. 
Which you have promised I shall possess. 

Compare iii. 1. 194-196, and note 10 supra. The last Earl 
of Hereford was Humphrey de Bolmn. father-in-law of 
Thomas of Woodstock and Henry IV., earl of Hereford, 
Essex, and Northampton (see Richard II. notes 4 and 25, 
and note 7 supra), who died in 1377. After the death of 
his widow (daughter of the Earl uf Arundel) a claim was 
made by Woodstock's daughter Anne, widow of Edmund 
Stafford, fifth Earl of Stafford, for a share of her grand- 
mother's estate; and Henry V. gave the earldoms of 
Herefonl, Essex, and Northampton, with the dukedom of 
Buckingham, to her and her son Humphrey Stafford, 
Buckingham's grandfather (Richard II. note 25, and II. 
Henry VL note ny. Tlie grant was confirmed, with cer- 
tain limitations, by Henry VI., but, after the accession 
of Edward IV., the earldom of Hereford was vested in 
the crown by act of parliament It was to this that 
Buckingham now laid claim, as the next in blood (Hall, 
P 387)1 

Hereford is printed Herford in More and In Qq., and 
was pronounced as a dissyllable. (See Richard II. note 
21* ) Ff. wrongly have Uert/ord. In iii 1. 106 both Q. 1. 
and F. 1. print Hereford. 

477. Lines 9a-115.— This passage is omitted in Ff. It 
was doubtless " cut " in the theatre copy from which F. 1. 
was printed: but its omission would deprive the repre- 
sentative of Richard of a very effective bit of acting. In 
most of the instances of a passage struck out, it is in Qq. 
that the omission occurs. 

478. Lines 09, 100: 

Bote Aanee the prophet could not at that time 
nave told me, I BEINO BT, that I should kill himf 
This is one of the many discrepancies between the present 

play and II. and III. Henry VI. Richard is not one of 
the persons present in the scene (iv. 6 ) in III. Henry VI., 
nor indeed was he at court at the time of Henry's restora- 

479. Lines 102-106: 

When last I teas 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, 

1 should not live long after I saw Michmond. 

This story is thus related by Abraham Fleming in Holin- 
shed's second edition, on the authority of Jolm Hooker, 
alias Vowel : " King Richard (saith he) came this yeare 
[1483] to the citie [of Exeter], but in verie secret maner, 
whom the mayor A his brethren in the best maner they 
could did receiue. . . . And during his abode here he 
went about the citie, & viewed the seat of the same, & at 
length he came to the castell: and when he vnderstood 
tliat it was called Rugemont, suddenlie he fell into a 
dunipe, and (as one astonied) said; ' Well, I 8<5e my dales 
be not long.' He Bpake this of a prophcsie told him, that 
when he came once to Richmond he should not long live 
after " (p. 421). We liave here an illustration of the fact 
remarked upon in note G49 infra, that the second edition 
of Holinshed was the one used by Shakespeare. The bard 
of Ireland seems to be Sliakcspeare's own invention. 

460. Lines 113, 114: 

Because that, like a Jack, thou keep'st the stroke 
Betwixt thy be^ginij and my meditation. 

The Jack, or Jack v' tfie clock, was a mechanical figure 
wliich struck the boll of the clock. Compare Richard 
II. note 321. The sentence is not plain. Probably the 
meaning is, " You keep on with the noisy interruption of 
your requests upon my meditative humour, just as the 
(itriking is kept up between the Jack's hammer and the 

481. Line 11(J: Why, then resolve me whether you will or 
MO.— So Q<i. F. 1. having omitted tlie previous eighteen 
lines, alter this to 

May it please you to resolve me in my suit. 

Lines 118, 119: 
Is it even so! rewards he my true service 
With such contempt} 

So Qq.. excepting that they insert deepe l>efore contempt. 

And is it thus? rcpayes he my deepe seruice 
With such contempt? 

483. Lines 120, 121: 

0, let me think on Hastings, and he gone 

To BRECKN^>rK, while my fearful head is on! 

Brecknock <;*astle, in South Wales, built by Bernard of 
Newniarcli, was enlarged in the thiiieenth century by 
Humphrey dc Bohun, Earl of Hereford, who had married 
Eleanor dc Breos (or Bruce), heiress of the lordship of 
Brecknock. Buckingham's grandfather acquired the lord- 
sliip, along with other portions of the de Bohun inheri- 
tance, in Henry V. 's time. (See note 470 supra.) It was to 
this place that the Bishop of Ely was sent after the council 
at the Tower, and the keep, which is now the most con* 


ACT IV. Scene 2. 


ACT IV. Scene 4. 

giderable remnant of the castle, was called, after him, Ely 


4M.— Xo new scene is marked here in Fl, though Qq. 
seem to imply one, and the division is certainly neces- 
sary. Even if we are to include the succeeding events in 
tlie same day with the foregoing, the time is different, 
for in sc. 2. line 111, it is morning, whereas line 31 infra 
shows the time now to be evening. But it seems l>etter 
to suppose an interval between this and the foregoing 

More's account of the murder is as follows: "On the 
morrow he sent him [i.e. Tyrrell] to Brakenbury with a 
letter, l»y whicli lie was commanded to deliver sir James 
all the kayes of the Tower for one nyght. . . . For sir 
James 'Ilrel deuised that thei sliold be murthered in their 
beddcs. To the execucion wherof, he appointed Miles 
Forest one of tlie foure that kept them, a felowe fleshed 
in murthcr before time. To him he ioyned one John 
Dighton his own horsekcper, a bigbrode Miuare strong 
knaue. Then al the other being rcmoued from them, thys 
Miles Forest and John Dighton, about midnight (the sely 
children lying in their beddes) came into the chamber, 
and sodainly lapped them vp among the clothes so be- 
wrapped them and entangled them keeping down by 
force tlie fetherbetl and pillowes hard vnto their moutlies, 
that within a while smored and stifled, theyr breath 
failing, the gaue vp to god their innocent soules" (pp. 
129-131). See note 2 supra. 

486. Line 5: To do thin ruthless pifce of butchery.— 
SoQ. l.Q. 2. Q 3. reads: 

To do this ruthfutl piece of butchery. 

and the remaining Qq. : 

To do this rutf\fuU butchery, 

while Ff. have: 

To do this piece of ruthfult butchery. 

\. Line 8: Wfpt like two children.— ^o Q<i. Ff. have 
"Wept like /©children." 

487. Line 13: WHICH in their summer beauty kiu'd each 
other.— So Qt|. Ff. read ami instead of which. 

\. Line 31: Coin* tome, Ti/rrel, ttoonat AFTKR-SUFPER. 
—So Qq. Ff. have and instead of at. lliis looks rather 
like an alteratitm by someone who had misunderstood 
the text. For an explanation of after -nipper, see A Mid- 
summer Night's Dream, note 240. 

499. Line 32: the process of their death. ^Compure iv. 
4. 2&3. below. Also Hamlet, L 5. 37. 38: 

Is liy A for\icd /rocejs of my death 
Kanlcly abus'd. 

490. Lines 30: 

The son of Clarence have I pent up dose; 

IHh daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage. 

On these and the next two lines compare lines 52-66 of 
the preceding scene. Mr. Daniel points out that the 
dramatist has crowded all these incidents into an impos- 
sibly short space of time, as is his usual habit through- 
out this play. 


491. Line 40: the Breton Jiichmond.— 'Richmond had 
taken refuge at the court of the Duke of Brittany when 
a mere child (see above, note 6): which explains the name 
Kichard here, contemptuously, gives him. 

498. Line 43: EnterCATESBY.— So. Qq. Ff. have "Enter 
Ratcliffe." a similar variety occurs at iii. 4. 80 supra. 

498. Line 46: Ely isjUd to niehmcnd.- So Qq. Ff. read 
Mourton for Ely. It was in Octol>er, 1483, when Bucking- 
ham, having been deserted by his Welsh forces, became 
a fugitive, that the Bishop qf Ely escaped, first to his see 
of Ely, and thence to Flanders. 

ACT IV. Scene 4. 

494. Lines 1, 2: 

So, noic prosperity begins to mellov. 
And drop into the rotten mouth r^f death. 

Steevens pointed out an imitation of this metaphor in 
Marston, Antonio and Mellida, part ii. act v. scene 1: 

now is his fate f^wne mellow. 

Instant to fall into the rotten jaws 

Of chap-falne death. 

— Works, i. ija. ij.v 

495. Lines 15, 16 : 

my that right for right 
Hath dimm'd your infant mom to ayed night. 

Right for right signifies something the same as mearurt 
for measure; "my right, namely vengeance for my son* 
murder, in return for Edward's right, that murder (whidi 
was in revenge for Rutland's"). Compare lines 6S-db 
ii\fra. But we cannot give any close interpretation to s 
phrase used only for the sake of a verbal conceit and s 

496. Lines 24, 25: 

When didst thou sleep, WHEN such a deed va* dmu! 
Q. Mar. When holy JIarry died, and my sweet son. 

Line 25 shows that the two irhens in the foregoing liof 
stand in no need of alteration. F. 2. reads " Why dost 
thou sleep" and Lettsom proposed to alter the secoixl 
when in line 24 to while. 

497. Line 26: poor MORTAL U viNG ghost — Compare t. I 
90 infra, and Merchant of Venice, ii. 7. 40: 

To kiss this shrine, this utcrtai hreathinir saJnt. 

^M. Line 34: Ah, who hath any cattse to mcvm but I!- 
So Qq. Ff. have we instead of /. 

499. Line 30: Tell o'er your woes again by viewing im'v 
—So Qq. Ff. omit this line. 

600. Line 41: 1 had a Harry. tiU a Richard tiWd km 
— Q(l. read " I had a Richard," and Ff. '* I had a husband.' 
Capell in his second edition suggested Henry. We ban 
adopted the reading proposed by the Cambridge editon^ 
which is no doubt right Compare line 6f» it^m. 

601. Line 46: thou uolp'ht to kiU Aim. —There are other 
examples in Shakespeare of this form of the pretcritr 
tense of the verb help, which was anciently inflected si ■ 
"strong" verb, like tread. &c. The past pariidpic kstpe* 
(formed from help, like molten from m£H, Ac.) has best 

ACT IV. Soeue 4. 


ACT IV. Scone 4. 

pretenred iu the prayer-book, iii the Btiudietug. Q. 1, 
Q. 2. and f . 1 read hop'atf which waa corrected to holp'st 
in Q. 3 and F. 2. 

MS. Lines 52. 63: 

That excellent grand tyrant of the earth. 
That reign$ in galled eyes qf weeping aouls. 
1'hete two lines, which are omitted in Qq., are reversed 
in order in Ft Capell arranged them as in our text. The 
description of the reign must plainly follow the mention 
of the *' grand tyrant"— a name perhaps suggestetl by 
that of the Grand Turk. The meaning of line 63 is: " the 
Kigns of whose reign are weeping and mourning." 

50S. Lines 66. 67: 

this CARXAL cur 

Prey» on the i*:nie qf hie mother's body. 

Carnal means "fleshly, carnivorous, cannibal"— a sense 

of the word which is not found elsewhere in Shakespeare. 

501 Line 5ii: And makes her PEW-FELLOW tcith others 
ifi«xi/i.— The curious word pew-fellow is used originally of 
one who sits in the same pew with another at church, as 
in Westward for Smelts: "Being one day at. church, she 
made mone to her pew-fellow" (Percy Society Reprint, 
p. Ssi). So in The Man in the Moon: " Hee hath not scene 
the insides of a church these seven yeares, unlesse with 
•levotion to pick a pocket, or pervert some honest man's 
Hife he would on purpose be pued withall " (Character of 
the Retainer; Percy Soc. Reprint, p. 26). Hence the word 
cumes to mean partner, companion, as in Dekker and 
Webster, Northward Hoe: "If he should come before a 
church-warden, he wud make him pue-fellow with a lord's 
steward at least" (Dekker's Works, vol. iii. p. 19). Dyce 
quotes from Wilson, The Coblers Prophecie, 1604, the 
following passage: "[Enter Raph and other prisoners 
with weapons] . . . Sat: . . . what are these? 

Haph: Faith certaine pu-/ellowes of mine, that have 
bin mued vp" (sig. F 4). 

606. Line C4: Tht other Edtvard.— Bo Qq. ¥t. have The. 

606. Lines 65. G6: 

Young York he is but BOOT, beeaiue both they 
Match not the high perfection qf my loss. 
So Qq. Ff. read nuiteht instead of match. The following 
trxplanation of the word boot is from Skene's Exposition 
of Difflcill Words sub voce : " Bote . . . signifies compen- 
sation or satisfaction . . . and in all excambion, or cross- 
ing of lands or geare moreable, the ane^ part that gettis 
the better, givia ane Bote, or compensation to Uie uther " 
(e<l. 1641. p. 24). Compare Winter's Tale, iv. 4. 090; and 
Hey wood, I. Edward IV. iiL 1: "If I were so mad to 
score, what bode wouldst thou give me?" (Works, i. 44X 
The original meaning of the word is "good," "advan- 
tage." as in the phraae to boot See note 644 it\fra, 

607. Line (»: And the beholders qf this TKAOIO play.^ 
So Qq. Ff. haLYt/rantickt. 

601. Lines 71-73: 

Richard yet Uves, helVs black inUUigencer; 
Only reserv'd THEIR /aeCor, to buy souls. 
And aend them, thither. 


Their, the plural )»o88essive, is here used with reference 
to hell, that word being given the sense of "poweiv of 
hell." In a similar way ne often find heaven treated as 
a plural, e.g. v. 6. 21 ii{fra; and see Richard II. note 60. 

600. Line 78: That I may lice to say. —So Q^. Ff. liave 
and instead of to. 

610. Line 84. The prt'nentation of but what I teas.— I 
suspect we should read: 

The presentation ^ut i^what I was. 

i.e. "merely the semblance of what I formerly was." The 
reference iu this place is to i. 3. 241-246. 

611. LineS6: The flattering J}iT>T.\ of a direful pageant. 
— Index, in .Shakespeare's time, meant the table of con- 
tents usually prefixed to a book. Steevens says that, at 
the pageants displayed on public occasions, a brief scheme 
or index of the order and signiflcance of the characters 
was often distributed among the spectators, so that they 
might understand the meaning of what was, usually, an 
allegorical representation. In Humlet, iii. 4. 52, 

What act 
That rnar!» so loud and thunders in the index, 

tlie word plainly means "prologue;" and this may perhaps 
he the meaning here, namely, that the prologue flattered 
the hearers with false promises of a happy conclusion. 

612. Lines 88-90: 

A dream of what thou WERT; a breath, a bubble; 

A sign of dt'itnit;/, a gariahflag 

To be the aim of every dangerous shot. 

Ff. read as follows:— 

A dreame of what thou wast, a garish Fln);,;e 
To be ttie ayme ofevrry dangerous Shot; 
A agn of Dignity, a Breath, a Bubble; 

The arrangement in the text is that of Qq.: from which 
we also take the form wert, in line 88, instead of wast, the 
reading of Ff. here and also in line 107 infra. 

618. Line 97: Decline all this.—Deelinare apud gram- 
maticos, says Minsheu, est aliquid per casus variare 
(Guide into Tongues, sub voce). The word is used, in the 
text, in the sense which it has in grammar, of going 
through the variations of a subject, as Margaret does in 
the lines that follow. Compare Troilus and Cressida, 
ii. 3. 66: "I'll decline the whole question." 

611 Lines 96-104: 
Q. 1 prints this passage thus: 

For happie wife, a most distressed widow. 
For ioyfull Mother, one that wailes the name. 
For Queene, a verie caitiue crownd with care. 
For one being sued to. one that humbUe sues. 
For one conmiaunding all, obeyed of none. 
For one that scornd at me, now scomd of ine. 

F. 1 prints it thus : 

For liappy Wife, a most distressed Widdow : 
For ioyfuU Mother, one that wailes the name : 
For one being sued too, one that humbly sues : 
For Qucene, a very Caytitfe. crown'd with care : 
For she that scom'd at me, now scorn'd of me : 
For she being feared of all, now fearing one : 
For she commanding all, obey'd of none. 

It is evident that some confusion ban arisen in transcrib- 


ACT IV. tScone 4. 


ACT IV. Scene 4. 

iDg this paauge, owing, probably, to lome alteration or 
inaertion having been made in the MS. by the author. 
Q. 1 omits line 103. and prints line 104 before 102. No 
object is gained by tlie omission of that one line; and line 
104 is more in its place at the end of the i>aa8age, an- 
swering as it does to line 96. the last of Margaret's ques- 
tions. On the other hand, F. 1 is, proba))ly, wrong in 
printing in lines 102, 103, and 104, " for xAe " instead of 
"For one," and also in transposing lines 100, 101. The ar- 
rangement of the text we have given is the same as that 
<if the Cambridge edd., who cannot, certainly, be accused 
of any inordinate partiality for the readings of F. 1. 

In lines 102, 103, and 104 there is the same elliptical 
construction, mu being omitted in the second part of all 
tliree sentences; but the meaning is sufficiently clear. 

616. Line 120: Think that thy babes vere FAIRER than 
they vere. —So Qq. Ff. have tureter instead oi fairer; the 
latter epithet contrasts better with/ot</«rr in the next line. 

616. Line 127: Wintty attorney* to their client leoes.— 
Ff. here read elienttt for client, by a misprint which is 
very common. Qti. have your for their: no doubt the 
MS. from which Q. 1 was printed had yr (representing 
their. Just as yf represented the), and the printer misread 
his copy. The text is that given by Ilanmer. 

The meaning of the line is, wonls are the breathhig 
agents through which woes, which in themselves are 
speechless, can act or be represente<1. in the same way as 
a client, who is pnwerless to 8i)enk for hiiuAclf. is repre- 
sented by an appointed agent or attorney. Malone <iuotcs 
the very similar metaphor in Venus and Adonis, 333-336: 

So of Loncciiled sorrow may be said : 
I-"ree vent of words love's fire doth nssuaf;^; 

But when tkf hetirfj attorney once is mute. 
The clietti breaks, as despemtc in his suit. 

Compare also line 413 below: 

Dc the attorney of my love to her. 

Shakespeare's fondness for legal metaphors and expres- 
sions has 1)een pointe<l out more than once. See Mids. 
Night's Dream, note 11. and Kiimeo and Juliet, note 223. 

617. Line 128: .^iVy *mcc<'«?J<t* o/ intkstatb ;oy*.— So 
Q<1. Ff. read intent ine. Joys, already past, are regardetl 
as having died without bequeathing any portion of their 
happiness, and so the airjt words nuceeed to an empty in- 

618. Line 13.'>: / hearhiftdnnn.—S^o Qq. Ff. read, "The 
Trum|)et sounds." 

619. Lino 141: Where should be branded. -Yt. read 
where '/; the c<>rrection is from Qn. 

680. Line 142: The slaughter of the prince that ow'D that 
crown - In Middle English otre (A. S. dgan) means "imis- 
sess;" the verb own (A. S. dynian). which now has that 
signification, is a derivative of the possessive pronoun 
own, wliich originally was the passive participle of owe, 
and meant what Is possessed by anyone. To otce after- 
wards came to signify "to immbcss someone else's pro- 
perty, " and so "to be in debt," which is now its only 
meaning. Shakespeare often uses the word in its origiual 


681. Lines 109-172 : 

Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; 

Thy school-days frightful, desperate, wild, andfttrious; 

Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and renturous; 

Thy age cof\firm'd, proud, subtle, SLT, AND BLOODY. 

Q(l. have, in line 172, "bloody treacherous;*' a reading 
which many editors adopt. We hare kept the reading 
in Ff. because we feel sure that, in revising the play. 
Shakespeare would have been the first to avoid such a 
jingle as venturous and treacherous at the end of two suc- 
cessive lines. If we examine the whole of this speech, we 
shall find that it bears traces of being written in his 
earlier style. It begins with four lines of rhyme, anil 
then -if we accept the Quarto reailing— we should have 
three lines following with trisyllable endings, the two lait 
of which would be very suggestive of a false quasi-rhyme. 
It is true that sly and subtle may seem somewhat tautdlo- 
gical; but they are not more so than desperate and wild, 
or daring and bold, in the two preceding lines. rerh8i« 
sly, and bloody was a hasty correction; but, surely, the 
latter epithet is the proper climax of the line. Those whi> 
prefer the Quarto reading may point to the passage in 
Hamlet's soliloquy, ii. 2. 000: 

Remorseless, treaekereus, leeherfut, Windless rillain ; 

where there is perhaps a worse Jingle in ami 
lecherous; but it must be remembered that Hnmlet it in 
a great passion at this point of his speech, while tl)i- 
duchess is here speaking, not under the Influence <•( 
passion, but of solemn indignation. We should prefer, if 
we adopt the reading of Qq., to invert the order of the 
last two words; thus, treacherotts, bloody. 

688. Lines 174-177: 

What comfortable hour canst thou name. 
That erergrac'd me in thy company f 
K. Rich. Faith, none, but UrMPllRET HOUR. th<t* 
extlVd your grace 
To breakfast once forth tf my company. 

In line 175. In is the reading of Qq. Ff. have \eith. 

None of the commentators have satisfactorily explaiuc'i 
the point of this speech, assuming that it ever had on«- 
F. 1 regarded "//to/i/r«y Ilower" as the name of a persoi.. 
and therefore printed the two words in italics, the type in 
which it was then the rule to print all proper names. In 
Qq., however, the words "Uumphrey houre" are printeil 
in the same Roman type as the rest of the speech. It 
seems more likely that some particular hour or ocvasioD 
was meant, than that Humphrey Flour should be simpb 
the name of someone. Btlalone supposed that liumphreff 
hour was merely a fanciful phrase "for hour, like Tdh 
Troth for truth, and twenty more such terms;" but thii 
is hardly an adequate explanation. We could not snb- 
stitutc the mere wonl hour in this )>lace. It may be that 
Richard here personifies and christens that ho%ur which, 
on some particular day, summoned his mother to break- 
fast away from him. A similar explaoation to this «tf 
suggested by steevens (Var. Ed. voL xix. p. 180); and be 
quotes the following passage from The Wit of a Woman. 
1604: "Gentlemen, time makes us brief: our old mistm». 
Uoure, is at hand." Humphrey hour, if it meant "hun^ 
time " or "meal time." must have had tome alluiioD ti^ 

ACT IV. Scene 4. 


ACT IV. Scene 4. 

the phraae " to dine with Dake Humphrey," which meant 
to p> without one's dinner, like the g»lbuits who. at the 
dinner hour, "ke«pe duke Uumfryt company in Poulet, 
Itecauaethey know nut where to get their dinners abroad" 
(N'ash, Prognoatication for this year, &c., 1501). Mr. 
Kinncar indeed has proposed to read th' hungry hour 
(I'Tuce^ Shakespeareauae, p. 270). But althouRh this may in- 
iiicate the sense of the passage, it can hardly be accepted 
as tlie genuine reading. 

The cant expression Humphrey may refer to some oUier 
appetite than hunger. It would 1>e quite in keeping with 
Rii-hard's character and with his cynical indifference to 
common decency, that he should intend here an allusion 
to «iime scandal against his mother. It must l>e confessed 
that he has recclve<l considerable provocation; and his 
next wonls seem ti> indicate that he could say more if 
further provuke«l. 

513 Lines l«»l. IbO: 

Either TiitiU wilt die, by God'tjutt ordinance, 

• ••••• 

Or I icith yrief and Extreme age $haU perish. 

Eithtr i<) to be pronounced as a monosyllable. Compare 
i 2 *>\, anil Midsummer NiKbt's Dream, ii. 1. 3*2. Pope 
read tt,u't U fur thou leilt, but this is inadmissible, since 
the empliasis is on thou, which is opposed to / in line 180. 

5S1 Line laS: Therefore take with thee my moit heavy 
cuiM — ^»o <^i. Ff. have greeuou* for heavy. 

5S5 Line 1(K>: Stay, madam; I mugt SPEAK a word 
nith »/».«. —S4> Qi|.; ¥t. liave talke instead of *j>eak; per- 
ha[»» the author intended to write: "I must talk aichUe 
with you." 

Lines 200. 201 : 
1 have no more totiM qf the royal blood 
Fvr thee to XURPER : /or my daughters, Richard. 

We ha*'e preferred the reading of Qq. here becanse it 
avnid4 the Jingle of slaughter and daughters. 

617. Lines 200-490 -See scene 3. lines 40-42 sttpra. It 
was during the Christmas of 1483 that Richmond, having 
eK-a[»e<l to Brittany, on the failure of Buckingham's rising, 
met Di>r*et and other of the insurgent leaders atRennes, 
anil promised them to make Elizabeth his queen so soon 
as he should obtain the crown of England, \l1ien the news 
of this reached Richard, " beyng sore dysmaied and in 
maner desperate, . . . he clerely determined to reconcile 
to hi« fauonre his brothers wife queue Elizabeth either 
by faire wordes or liberall promises, flrmely beleuynge, 
her fauour once obteined, that she would not stick to 
coramlte and lonynglye credite to him the rule and gou- 
emannce lioth of her and her daughters." Accordingly, 
Hall continues (p. 40i)), he sent messengers to the queen 
where she lay in sanctuary, who so persuaded her by their 
reasoning and promiaet "that she began somewhat to 
relent and to geiw to theim no deffe eare, insomuch that 
nhe faithfully promiied to lubmyt and yelde tier selfe fully 
tnd frankely to the kynget will and pleasure." This was 
In March, 14S4. The next Christmas Richard's wife Anne 
fell sick, and he then at once offered his hand to Eliza- 
beth. Shakespeare, in the present scene (see lines 520 

and following, in/ra), throws together Buckingham's 
abortive rising in 1483 (when Richmond, having been 
separated from his Hect. failed to land on the Dorset 
coast), and Richmond's successful landing in August. 148&, 
at Milford Haven. 

588. Lines 212-218— In this passage, and in lines 343-361. 
below, we have examples of mx;uv8ia, a fashion taken 
from the writers of the Greek tragedies, and already noted 
in I. Uenry VI. note 307. Compare Two Gentlemen of 
I Verona, L 2. and III. Henry VI. note 200. 

, 588. Line 212: she is op royal BLCKiD. — So Qq. Vt. 
! read "she is a Royall I'rineesse." 

580. Lines 227, 228: 
Xo doubt the murderous knife u>as dull and blunt 
Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart. 

Compare II. Henry IV. iv. 6. 107, 108, an«l Merchant <.f 
Venice, note 282. 

531. Line 230: But that sTILL M«tJ of grief makes wild 
grief tame— Still as an adjective, with the meaning of 
"freiiuent" or "constant," is not very common. It oc- 
' curs, however, in Titui* Andronicus, iii. 2. 45: 

I And t>y ^/uV (-ractice Icorn to know thy meaning. 

I 638. Lines 250-201: 

That thou dost lore iny daughter FR(»M thy soul: 
St', from thy souVs love, didtit thMi love her brothers; 
A nd, from my heart's love, 1 do thank thee for it. 

Richard, in line 250, has said that he loves EIi7abetir>i 
daughter from hiit soul, meaning, with his whole heart. 
Klizabetli, in this passage, giving from the meatdng of 
" outside of," says that his love neither is nor has heeu 
a love from within his heart. Such a use of the word 
from, thougli forced in tlic present instance, was not 
uncommon in Elizabethan Englisli. Compare TwelfUi 
Night, i. 5. 208: "This is/rom my commission;" i.e. "this 
is outside, not included in, my commission " 

588. Line 267: 

Q. Eliz. What, thou I 

K. Rich. Even I: what think you of it, madam I 

Tills is Capell's reading. Qq. have /, even I; Ff. read 
" Even so: Uow thinke you of it?" 

534. Unes 270, 277: 

which, say to her, did drain 
The purple sap from her sweet brothers' BODIES. 

Bodies is Rowe's correction for body, the reading of Ff. 
Qq. omit the passage. 

585. Line 278: And bid her WirE her weeping eyrs 
withal.— Si) Ff., an infinitely better line, in 9pitc of tlie 
alliteration, than the officious emendation of Q(|. : 

Anil bill her tiry her wecpinif eyes thrreofith. 

586. Lines 282. 283: 

ay, and, for her sake, 

Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne. 
See note 32 supra. 

587. Lines 288-342. — The whole of this passage is 
omitted by Qq. 


ACT IV. Scene 4. 


ACT IV. Scene 4. 

588. Line 289: iVay, then ituieed the cannot choose but 
LOVE thee.—Th\% is Tyrwhitt's reading. Ff. have hate in- 
stead of love; but the correction is fully juitifled by the 
following line, ai well as by line 279 eupra. 

588. Lines 303, 304: 


Endur'd cifher, for whom you BID like sorrow. 

The form bid of the past tense of 6u2e = bear, endure, is 
unique in Shakespeare, and I have not met with an 
example of it elsewhere. The following example of the 
form a6u2 = ai>ode. the past tense of the verb abide, is 
given together with others in the Philological Society's 
Dictionary, sub voce ABIDE: "also Rome her selfe: the 
other name wherof to utter, is counted ... an impious 
Jk uulawfuU thing: which . . . Valerius Soranus blurted 
out, & soon after abid the smart for it" (Pliny, Naturall 
liistorie, Holland's translation, vol. i. p. 59). 

540. Lines 310-315.— Hall, ut supra, note 527, says that 
the messengers whom Richard sent to Elizabeth " should 
so largely promes promocions innumerable and benefltes, 
not ouely to her but also to her sonno lorde Thomas 
Marques Dorcett, that they should brynge her yf it were 
possible into some wanhope. or as some men sale into a 
fooles paradise. And so she . . . sente letters to the 
nianiues her sonne beynge then at Pnrys with the erle 
4»f Richmonde, willynge him in any wise to leaue the 
-ewle and without delaie to repairc into England where, 
for him were prouided great honours and honorable pro- 

5il. Lines 321-324: 

The liquid drops of tears that you have shed 
Shall come again, transform d to orient pearl. 
Advantaging their loan ir»7A interest 
Of TKH-tiines double gain nf happiness. 

F. 1 misprints loue for lone (i.e. loan) in line 323, and 

often for of ten in line 324. The corrections are Capell's. 

The tears shed are. as it were, a loan to the "distressful 

times;" they will be repaid in the sliape of "orient pearls," 

the value of the loan being at the same time augmented 

by the addition of interest, in the shape of happiness, 

twenty times as great as the former sorrow. The noun 

advantage means "interest" or "profit," in Merchant of 

Venice, L 3. 70. 71 : 

Methouf^ht you said you neither lend nor borrow 
Ui»on adzHMnta^e; 

and from the noun thus used was derived the verb which 
we have in the present passage. Compare, with lines 321, 
322, Two Gent, of Veruna. iii. 1. 224: 

A sea of melting; /ror/, which some call Uars. 

548. Line 348: To wail the title, as her mother doth.— 
So Qq. The word is misprinted vaile in Ff. 

548. Line 355: Sag, I, her sovereign, am her subject LuVE. 
— Ff. read "her Subject low." Love is from Qq. Pope 
reads tunc, which Walker approves. 

541 Lines 363-305: 

Too deep aiui dead, poor itifants, in their graves. 
K. Rich. Flarp not on that string, madam; that is past. 
Q. Ellr. narp on it still shall I tUl heart-strings break. 


These lines are here given as they stand in Q. 1. Q. 2 
omits line 864. and gives line 365 to King. Q. 3 and the 
following Qq. also omitted line 364, but made line 3G5 a 
continuation of Elizabeth's preceding speech. F. 1 re- 
stored line 364, but placed it, wrongly, after line 365. 

545. Line 366: Xow, by my GEORGE, my garter, and my 
crown.— The George, as well as the garter, is part of the 
insignia of the order of the Garter. It is a figure of St. 
George on horseback, piercing the dragon with his lance 
A similar design is borne on the reverse of the current 
sovereign; in fact it was the commonest way of depicting 
the saint. He is so represented, for instance, over thr 
western door of the cathedral at BAle in Switzerland. 
The present passage is an anachronism, as is the similar 
one in II. Henry VI. iv. I. 29. The George was not added 
to the Insignia of the order till Henry VII. 's reign. 

546. Line 368: / sicear—.—Ft. have / sweare. Qq. : "I 
sweare by nothing," having evidently taken the la»( two 
words by mistake from the beginning of next line. 

547. Line 360: Thy George, profan'd, hath lost his holt 
honour. — So Qq. Ff. have lordly. Perhaps saintly would 
be a better epithet than either. 

546. Lines 373-377: 
Swear, then, by something that thou hast not wrong d. 

K. Rich. Then by myself, — 

Q. Eliz. Thyself w self-mvivtd. 

K. Rich. Sow, by the world,— 

Q. Eiiz. Tisfull vf thy foul icroikgt. 

K. Rich. My father's death,— 

Q. Eliz. Thy life hath that dishonour d. 

K. Rich. Why, then, by God,— 
This is the arrangement of Ff. In. Qq. line 374 coiues 
after line 376. and Elizabeth's answer runs: "Thy self« 
thy selfe inisusest. " The objection to this arrangeroeDt 
is that Richard's words, " Why. then, by Go<l," foUoninp 
directly after " Then by myself," make him almost pot 
himself on an equality with God. In the arrangement i4 
Ft., which we follow, Elizabeth refuses to believe Richard 
when swearing by the honours or dignities which he Uu 
usurped and degraded; she then says: 

Sntar, t/un, l>y iometking that tkeu hiist not ttn'fii^'d. 

Richard answers, half -mockingly: Then by 
though he would say: "Vou must admit that I hsw 
never wrong'd myself. " Her retort rouses him to raott 
seriousness in his next speech: Now by the vwrld. Ft. to 
avoid profanity read Heaven instead of God, in line S77, 
as usual. 

549. Lines 37&-SS0: 

If thou hadstfear'd to break an oath by Biw, 
The unity the king THY brother made 
Had not been broken, nor my brother slain. 

So Qq.. witli the exception that all but Q. 7, Q 8 read wy 
brother in line 370— a mistake arising no doubt tr^m tlie 
occurrence of the words in the next line. Ff. read: 

If thou didd'st feare to hreake an Oath with him. 
The unity the Kini; my husbaHd made. 
Thou had'st not broken, nor my Brothers died. 

This is one of the passages to which Mr. Ihiniel rrfen 
(Introd. to Reprint of Q. 1, p. xvii. noteX iu support (4 bis 

ACT IV. Soene 4. 


ACT IV. hcenc 4. 

contention that the original author of the play thought 
Grey to be one of the queen's brothers (see note 224 
AipmX The reading husband was, of coarse, an attempt 
to correct the obvious error my brother; for it was Edward 
who tried to reconcile the opposing factions (see act ii. 
sc. 1). But here, as in other instances, the wrong word 
was altered. 

550. Lines 385, 386: 

H'hieh 1WW, TOO tender BKDFELLOWS /or dutt. 
Thy broken faitii hath made A prey for wormt. 
Jk> Capell, adopting a conjecture by Roderick. The ap- 
jorent antithesis between dwtt and wormt can hardly 
have been intentional. Both Qq. and Ff. read tico, but 
this is very lilcely only a printer's error. Tlie words to, 
too, and two seem to have often been confounded by the 
old printera Qq. read play/ellotrg; Ff. htd /elUnces. lu 
line Z&i Ft. read the for a. 

551. Line 392 : Cngovem'd youth, to tcaU it IN their age. 
- -This is the reading of the first four Quartos. Q. 5 mis- 
printed iri(A for in, and the mistake was copied in Ff. 

558. Line 396 : Misue'd ere u*d, by TIME MISUS'D o'ER- 
I'AST.— SoQq. Ff. read: 

Misus'd ere us'd, by times Hl-vs'd refast. 

The printer no tloubt. as Kolfe says, meant to have 
given orepatt—wi he did in line 3d8— and the first letter 
slipped out 

55S. Lines 308, 309: 

vty dangerous ATTEMPT 

0/ hostile amis I 
Ni Q<i. Ff. haTe af aires for attempt. 

551 Line 403: irtYA PUBE heart's love.— So Q<i. Ff. have 

555. Lines 407, 408 : 

Without her, follows to MT.SELF AND THEE. 

HEitSELr, THE LAND, and many a Christian soul. 
2k> Ff. The reading of Qq. is : 

Without her followes to th£t ianJ and me, 
T» thee, her sei/e, and manie a Christian soute. 

The reailing of Ff. preserves the climax better; for 
B4chard means to say that the calamities, which will re- 
sult from his failure to secure his right to the throne, will 
nut only affect them personally and their country, but 
also many others. 

556. Lines 424. 425: 

Where, in that NEST OF spicert, they shall breed 
Selves of themselves, to your RECOMFORTURE. 
There is an allusion, as Steevens pointed out. to the fable 
of the ph<Bnix; at the end of every thousand years it 
made itself a funeral pile of myrrh and spices, upon which 
it was consumed, and another was said to be bom out of 
ito aahet. Mr. Green (Shakespeare and the Emblem 
Writers, p. 8S0) quotes from An Elegie. or Friends Pas- 
sion, for his Astrophill, the following lines: 
The Pbotnts left sweet Arabie ; 
And on a cedar, in thb coast. 
Built up her tomb of sficen'e. 
—The Phoenix Nest. 1593 (Park's reprint, X814, p. 3). 

Reeom/orturt occurs nowhere else in Shakespeare. He 

uses the participle recotnforted once, in Coriolanus, v. 
4. 51. Cotgrave explains rectnnfort as " great solace, or 
comfort, much consolation;" and Baret, Alvearie, suh 
voce, has " Thou hast reuiued my spirits, or reeov\forted 
my hart Beddidisti animum. Ter." Qq. read recom- 

557. Lines 432-537.— In October. 1484, when the breach 
between Buckingham and Richard happened, the duke. 
Hall says (p. 393), "ymmediately prepared open warre 
agaynste hym [of. iv. 3. 47. 48]. and perswaded all his com- 
plices and partakers that euery man shoulde in his quarter 
with all diligence reyse vp the people and make a commo- 
cion. And by this meanes.almooste iu one momente Thomas 
Marques Dorset [having come i] out uf sanctuarye where he 
slth the begynnjriige of Richardes daies liad contynued. 
whose life by the ouely helpe of sir Thomas Louell esquyer 
was preserued from all daungier and perell . . . gathered 
together a greate bande of men iu Yorkeshire. Sir Ed- 
warde Courtney and Peter liis brother bishop of Exsetter, 
reised another army iu deuoushire and comewall. In 
kente, Richarde Guylforde and other gentlemen, collected 
a great companye of souldyoures and openly beganne 
warre." Following Hall's account, Shakespeare rei>re- 
sents Richard as setting out with an army to oppose 
Buckingham; see iv. 3. 50, and line 13(> of the present 
scene. We now gather from lines 443, 450, that Richard 
is going to Salisbury, iu order (as Hall shows) first of all 
to overthrow the anuy of Buckingham, tlie leader of the 
insurrection. Ridiniond, who liad sailed from .^t. Malo. 
reached Poole in Dorsetshire, but his fleet had been scat- 
tered by tempest, and no landing was made on account 
of the apparent hostility of those on shore. The court- 
sliip of Princess Elizabeth took place in 1485; but Shake- 
speare, for reasons which it is not hard to discern, chose 
to regard this uusuccessful rising, in 1464, as belonging to 
the same year with the insurrection 1)y which Richmond 
gained the throne in 1485. According to Hall's account 
of tills latter event (p. 410): "the erle . . . arrj'ued in 
Wales in the euenyng [of August 7] at a porte called ^lyl- 
ford Hauen and in contin€t tooke land and came to a 
place called Dalle s . . . And ... at the sonne rysyng 
remoued to harfford west, where he was applauded and 
receaued of the people with great ioye. " The statement 
of Richmond's arrival in Dorsetshire comes in. rather un- 
intelligiiily. in line 521, when everywhere else he is said 
to be on the western coast. 

Shakespeare places the scene in London, but "Kynife 
Rychard at this ceason." Hall says (p. 412). " kepynge hi8 
howse in the castcll of Notyngham . . . sent to Ihoii duke 
of Norfolke. Henry earle of Northumberlande, Thomas 
earle of Surrey and to other of his especiall and trusty 
frendes of the no1)ilitie . . . wyllynge theim to mustre" 
their servants and tenants and "repairc to his presence 
with all spcde and diligence." 

1 Hall says " came," but he misunderstands Polydore VirK:irh words, 
which are: " uno fere montento ac tempore. Thomas marchio Oorces- 
triae de asylo eirressus. ac ab omni periculo, opera Thomar Rouelli 
seruatus . . . agros passim incolentes ad arma coniitat. initiumque 
belli facit" (lib. xxy). 

3 Perhaps West Dale Point, about 3) miles north-west of St Anne's 
Head, and very nearly tlie distance named from Haverfordwest. 


ACT IV. Scene 4. 


ACT IV. So!iw 5. 

568. Linei 434. 435: 


Throng many doubtful hoUow-hearted frienda. 
So Qq. Ff. read *' to our tkoret." 

559. Line 443: Fly to the duke.— [To Ratcliff] Pott thou 
to Salisbury. —So Qq. Neither they nor Ff. mark Catesby's 
entrance until line 530. Ff. read: 

^I'c-A. Catesby. flye to the Duke. 

(~ij/. I will, my Lord, with all conuenient haste. 

HicM. Catesby come hither, poste to Salisbury. 

Catesby, in Richard's second speech, is an evident mis- 
take for Ratdiff. But the interposed speech for Catesby 
weakens the force of the passage. 

560. Line 466: Stirr'd up by Doraet, Buckingham, and 
Ely.— So Qq. Ff. read Morton instead of Eiy. 

561. Line 470: What heir of York i* there alive but we$ 
—Kichard liad been declared the undoubted heir of 
Richard, Duke of York, his father. A stronger claim 
would have belonged to the daughters of Edward IV., 
and to the two children of George, Duke of Clarence; but, 
as Ritson noticed, Edward's children had been pro- 
nounced illegitimate, and Clarence's attainder for high 
treason e.xcluded the claim of his issue. iSee note 4 supra. 

562. Line 482: Ko, my good lord, my frienda are in the 
tioreA.— Stanley's lands were in Cheshire and Lancashire; 
he had. too, considerable power in North Wales. For 
what follows see note 18. 

568. Line 480: Ay, ay, thou wwild$t be gone to join with 
Richmond.—^ Qq., except that I>oth they and Ff. use 1 
instead of ay. Ft. , most probably by accident, omit the 
first Ay. 

561 Line 490: 1 will not trust ymi, in'r.- So Qq. Ff. have 
But I'll not trust thee. 

565. Lines 400, 500: 

Sir Edicard Courtney, and the haughty prelate 
Bishop of Exeter, his elder BR(»TnEK. 

See note 557. These Courtneys or Courtenays were, how- 
ever, not brothers, but cousins (French, p. 240). Qq. have 
brother there for elder brother. 

566. Lines 503, 504: 

every hour more competitors 
Flock to the rebels. 

Shakespeare nearly always uses the word competitor with 
the unusual meaning of "associate," not "rival." 

567. Line 512: 

Xo man knows whither. 
K. Rich. Oh, I cry THEE mercy. 

Tope inserted Oh, which Ff. omit Qq., which have a 
different and very faulty version of the whole passage 
(50&-513), read: "0 I cry you mercie." 

ACrr IV. Scene 5. 

Lines 2, 3: 

in the sty of THIS mosl BLOODY boar. 
My son Oeorge Stanley isfrank'd up in hold. 


So Qq. Ff. have " the most deadly. " At regarda frank'd 
up, see note 151 supra. 

569. Lines 6-S: 
So, get thee gone; commend me to thy lord: 
Say that t/ie queen hath heartily consented 
He should espouse Elizabeth her daughter. 

Qui, which most editors follow, omit these lines here, ia- 
serting lines 7 and 8 after line 19 infra. But the arrange- 
ment of Ff. is, on the whole, the best. Ur&wick wants 
Stanley to declare for Richmond. Stanley answers that he 
cannot do so openly at present, and then, before sending 
him off, communicates the important news of Elizabeth's 
consent to the proposed marriage of her daughter to 
Richmond. This announcement comes much more pro- 
perly at the beginning of the scene than thrust in, as » 
mere afterthought, at the end. 

We have omitted withall. which Ff. prefix at the begin- 
ning of line 7. 

570. Lines 12-15, 17: 

Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier; 
Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley ; 
Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Bluxt. 
And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew; 

• ••••• * 

A nd towards London they do bend their course. 

Hall says that while Richmond was at Haverfordwest. 
I " Arnold Bnttler a valiaunt capitain, . . . declared to 
I hym that the peubrochians were ready to seme and gene 
their attendaunco on their natural and immediate lord 
laaper erie of Pembroke" (p. 410). While advancing from 
Carmarthen, "sodeynly he was by his espialles asser- 
teynedi that Sir Walter Harbert and Rice app Thomas 
wore in harnes before hym ready to eucountre wyth hji 
armye and to stoppe their passage. Wherefore ... he 
firste determyned to sett on theim. . . . But to thentent 
his frendes shoulde kuowe wyth what dexterite his at 
tempted entreprice proceeded forwarde, he sente . . . 
letters ... to the ladye Margarete his mother, to the 
Lorde Stanley and his brother, to Tatbote and to other 
his trustie frendes, declarynge to theim, that he . . . ca- 
tended to passe ouer y« ryuer of Seueme at Shrewtbuoe. 
and so to passe directely to the citee of London." While 
marching towards Shrewsbury "there met and sainted 
him Rice ap Thomas, with a goodly bad of Welshmen 
whiche . . . submitted himselfe whole to his ordre and 
commaundcment." This man and Sir Walter Herbert, 
Hall says (p. 412X ruled Wales "with egall powre saA 
lyke aucthoritee; " Rlchnrd supposed them both to be 
faithful to his cause. Richmond having reached New- 
port, " in the euenynge, the same dale came to hym sir 
George 2 Talbott with the whole powre of the yomife 
Earle of Shrewsburj-e [his elder brother] then beyng in 
warde. which were accompted to the number of tvoo 
thousande men. And thus his powre encreasynge he i^ 
ryued at tlie towne of Stafforde and there pawsed. To 

I Informed. 

* Hall here calls this personaf^e George, but tn/ra, p. 414. B«*«* **■ 
hii right name of Gilbert. He led the right win); at the battle of But' 
worth. See note 594. 

ACT I?. Some 5. 


ACT V. SoeiM 2. 

whom cAme Sir WyllyAin Stanley sccompaignled with a 
fewe penones" (Hall, p. 411, copying Polydore Vir^fil). 
The Earl o( Oxford and Sir Jamet Blunt had Joined Rich- 
mond in ParLi. (See notes 16 and 24 tupra.) It does not 
appear at what time Sir Walter Herbert joined Rich- 
mnnd. or whether he did more than keep aloof from 

ACT V. Scene 1. 

571 Line 1. —For particulars of Buckingham's capture 
see note 10. The date of his execution was 2d November, 
14s3. Johnsi>n propo8e<l to add this scene to the pre- 
ce«ling act: but surely tliat act is long enough already. 
It would be better to have ended it before the entrance 
of Ratclifl in scene 4, line 431. 

in. Line 2: So, My good lard; thertfore be patient.— 
Thi» line, and the other speech of the Sheriff's (line 11), 
are given in Qfi. to Ratcliff. But it was John Mytton, 
Sheriff of Shropshire, who arrested Buckingham. There 
i«Du historical ground for supposing Ratcliff to have been 
pre.-ent, though as he was always ready to do Richard's 
«{irty work, he would certainly, dramatically speaking, 
not be «)ut of place in tliis scene. 

Sn. Line 3: Rivert, Orey.—SoQii Ff. have Oray and 

574. Line 4 : HoLT King Henry. — King Henry VI. was 
not absolutely canonized, though miracles were said to 
have taken place at his tomb, and he was regarded as a 
saint by many people. Henry VII. would have canonized 
him, but that motives of economy prevailed. 

575. Line i>: miMearried.—ToT the use of miicarried in 
this sense, compare II. Henry IV. iv. 1. 120: 

Have since miscarrud under Bolingbroke. 

m Unesip. 11: 

Tki* it AU-StrtUt' day, FELLOW, it it nott 
Sher. It it. 

So Ff. Qc|. htixe/fllowt, as if Buckingham addressed all 
the goarils; they also add My Lord to the Sheriff's an- 
swer. Dyce prefers the reading of Qq., and in a note 
|{4) he contends that " it seems rather odd that Buck- 
ingham should call the Sheriff 'fellow,' and as odd that 
the Sheriff (see his preceding speech) should reply as 
curtly." Bat there seems no reason why Buckingham 
should addreM the qnestlan to all the guard. Fellow is 
generally used by a superior to an inferior. It is quite 
possible that the Sheriff might resent that mode of 
address: In which caae, in answering, he would not give 
BocUngham his title. 

ffn. Line 12 : Why, then ALL-SoULS* DAT it my body't 
i>0()MSbAT.— The Snd November is the day which the 
Itoman Catliolic Charch keepa in honour of all the de- 
parted. For dM)mtday= the day of a person's death, 
compare Romeo and Juliet v. 3. 294 : 

Their «toIen narriagc day was Tyb:ilt*i dMtnsday. 

»?• Lines 13-15.— See IL 1. 2JM0. 

fit Line 20: That hi^h AU-tter WHICH / diMitd with. 
"Whiek is frequently used for who or wham, ai in the 

first sentence of the Church of Rngland's version of the 
Lord's Prayer. Q<i. have that. 

MO. Line 25 : Thut Margaret't cxtrite FALLS HEAVT OX 
HY NECK.— I'he reference in this and the 8ubse<iuent line 
is to i. 3. 280-303. The reading in the text is that of Ff. 
Q([. have: it fallen upon my head. 

681. Line 28: Come, SIRS, CONVEY ME to the block of 
thaine.— This is tlie reading of Qti. Ff. have: "Come lead 
ine ojficert." 

ACT V. Scf:ne 2. 

68S. — From Shrewsbury' (see abore, note 570) Rich- 
mond marched to Lichfield, and from Lichfield to Tam- 
worth. The latter place is about flve-and- twenty miles 
in a straight line westward from Leicester. Market Bos- 
worth, lying a1>out half-way between Taniworth and 
Leicester, is in Lcicestersliire, about five miles from the 
borders of that county and Warwickshire. The meet- 
ing between Henry and his father-in-law took place at 
Atherstone, a small town about nine or ten miles to the 
south-east of Tamworth. and about eight miles to the 
south-west of Market Bosworth. Stanley had retired to 
Atherstone when he heard that Richmond was marching 
from Wales to Lichfield, in order to avoid suspicion; as 
he wished Richard, who held his son Qeorge as a hostage, 
to believe that he was still favourable to the king's cause. 
From the account given in Hall (p. 413) it would appear 
that Richmond got separated from his army when near 
Tamworth, and had to pass the night in a small village 
about tliree miles from that town. At the dawn of the 
next day he rejoined his army; but left them almost 
immediately to go to Atherstone in order to meet his 

685. Line 7: The WRETCnED, bloody, and utxtrping hoar. 
— W^alker says (vol. iii. p. lib) that irretehed is palpably 
wrong, and Collier's Old Corrector calmly altered it to 
reckless. Wretched is certainly generally used in a con- 
temptuous sense; but it is also used as an epithet applied 
to villains, just as icreteh itself is used of a very wicked 
person. Compare Othello, v. 1. 41. where Roderigo says: 
"0 wretched villain!" evidently meaning lago; and, a 
still more forcible instance, Lucrcce, line 990 : 

Such vretchtd hands such wretched blood shotild spill : 

both hands and blood, in this case, being Tar<|uin's. 

5M. Lines 8. 9 : 
That SPOIL'H your summer fields and fruitful vines. 
Swills your warm blood like irash. 

Capell altered spoU'd to spoils, and Pope printed Stcill'd 
instead of Swillt; but the sudden change from the past 
to the present tense is conunon enough in Shakespeare, 
and indeed in all poets. Poetry would be tenil)ly crippled 
if such a reasonable license as this were not pcnuitted. 

686. Line 10: this foul swine.— Shakespeare uses swine, 
in the singular, in four other passages; for instance in 
Love's Labour's Lost, iv. 2. 01: "pearl enough for a 

666. Line 11: Lies now even in the centre qf this itle.— 
So Qq. ; Ff. have. " Is now." 


re likeljr Is hive been in Uie origliin] t« 
ACT V, StKNE 3. 

Klvhird, tbo oUier that ut Klchmuud. Am repmeuLnl 
uu the atage In ittiikeiiieaie'i time, thii miie luuld nut 
tiut b« open to ridicule; lor Ihe teiiU u( Elchud Mid 
Kivhmoud miuC have been tlixa U«elher. uid the huatile 

luve bevu rubUng ilumlden toiptlher ell Uie iiigbt before 
the laUle. KoUe <|uolei iruu «nut White wliit ap. 
pean lu lu a ven' luoUili iiate on lhl> aubjevt "We now. 
Iijr Ihe aid ul acenc-ini liter) and <;ar|Knten. anil at Ihe 
ainind of the pruiu|>tcT'i wlilillv, aepanite thi: repreaeuta- 
tliea of York anil Lanuaalvr bj certain yarila of coloured 
caniaa. and our itatte ijhoata aUdreia thelnwlvei to Rit-h- 
ard onl); and there are Ilnxe wlio. forReltltiit that the 
ataip.- doea iii>l. never can, and ihuuld nut if it could. 
rrpreient tlie favta of real lite, think that ve hare gained 
KTeally bj the vhantie. " Cenainlf the effnt i>l tho mo- 
dem >l(iBe-arraii||einent la tiiat the uhuata "addreia 
theniatlTea to Kichard ouiy:" but we believe Sliaketpears 
would have licen tbe Unt to recoinilie the fact that Uie 
ilninitlc form ul Uie alluation la thereby Increawd. and 
that hi> iiorli>' ontr auHered by btiag ipoken amid lur- 
mundlnei nblch dlitnicteil, by tlieir ridU'Uloni incon- 
Kmlly, the minds i>f the andience h 


fM Line le.-Among 
Klchmund Ff. have Da, 
657) would •eemloJuU 
at tbia time, dee note 1 

tbe Id 

e inciden 

oulil ha Joit a* aenaible t<i ntgttt tbe time • 
aiiective vai unknown, and when jiaintera ni 
repreaented uliJecU. wbetlier near <ir diitaut. In 
plane, aa to aflect to tl|ili over the tlnica when 

having Bpprupilale a 

• fur (lie I 

I uf hit play. 

US. UneT: Up icilk lan UhI Hurr irilt I Uf to-niahl 
ft. and U 7, Q. B have. Cp mill ws tnU! but tbe ft 
ali<iuart<ii hive. " irp with my tent Mcre,'"inaertlng I 
word thtrt, which It quite nnnecesiary aiul ipollt I 
rbythm of tbe line, but la. neverlhetHi, rigidly preaen 
by Ibe fanatical vonhippera of Q. 1. It la ]n>t the ai 
ol inaertiuu (liat anyone Ignorant uf rhylliin would bl 

WO. Line ll: »alMI>a. -ftee foot-note. Qq. have b 
MiiiH. Shaketpeare only uaea that word In one oil 
Iiaiaage. Hamlet, tv. S. Ti. 70: 

where F. 1. F 1 have diitlnctly battaliuei; Uq. bave bat- 
taliam; F. 3, F. i balMt. It la quite puaalhle that the 
word, which la a merely anvllclied lorm uf tbe Italian 
batlaylia, meant little more than hattlr. when uaed In the 
tniae of "the main Ixidy of the amiy." Oonipare IlL 
llewj VI. I. l.B, "Charg'd onr main ftalUe'i fnmt" 


CM. Line H: Sir Wiaiaiit Bnmtm-Thlt wai the an 
of Sir William Brandon by hli wile Elliabeth. daaghter 
of Sir Bubert Wliq[lleld. He wai tbe father uf rharln 
Brandon, who waa treated with great favour by Bkb' 
muud when be came to the throne, and became one vl 
HenTT VlU.'i cboien compaoloM in bli foiilh. both ■• 
prince and king. Cbailei Brandon waa created Dake»l 
Hullolk. and be la one of the chalacten in HeUTT Vlll. 
5^ irillioHi Braadm waa killed by Kichard'i own hud 
in a f uiioui onalaugbt at tiie battle of Boawottb. BaU 
aaya (p. 4IS>: " Kyng Rfchard ael on ao abatpely at itai 
lint BruQt y taeuueltbrew tlierlet ttandarde, ui'l ik* 
Sir Williaia Brandmi biaatandanle bearer." 

Ml Lli 

ea !3-26 - In <(q tbeae 




(ween lin 




There can 

be no doubt that the nr 


eot IB H. lithe 

right one 

Ml Li 

ea i7-a4.-Hall (p. 414) givea 


ollowlBC ac- 

count of 

red to 

■■ In the n 

oniing he time he e»u 



n topalo. 

Iiattall, i 

*«pp«re)l tt 
ybinl 8 

elfea redy to Htiht s gr« 


hia biidD in a place ludiflerently batwene both y a- 
mle>} requlrynit hini w> hit m£ to approche ntre to U 
amiji & to help (o ai't y* aouldlouia In array, he aniwcid 
y> tlieile ihould aet Ida awne m£ In a good order ul M- 
talie wblle bo would array hia copaigny. It cAuia to kdp 
in lime eoiioenlcnt Which anawere made othefwiit 
then llierle thought or would liahe ludgeii, cunaUettaf 
X* uportunlte ul the time & (he wai(e of y* hualBnt 
although be waa (here wall, a litle vexed, began timt 
what to bang yi hrdde. yet be w<out auy time d«Ulya( 
compelleil by necetiitf, alter (bla maiier lattractad k 
urdred hia men. Ke made hia lonvard aumewhat da^ 
and alender, acconlyng to ]r> amall nulier uf hit pHfik 
In X* Fruunt he placed the archera, uf wbotne ha madi 
capUln IbO erie of Ollord: to tbe riRht wyng ut r W 
tain he appoynted. ilr Gylliert Talbolt to be y Itdcr to 

r Ibon 

broke hauyng a good compalgnle ol boramen and a aaiH 
number of foolnien: For all hi. hole nAl^r »»eded M 

IIJ. thouaande were In Uie (elde vnder tbe atidaid e( * 
William Stanley: The kyngei nom)>er waa dublc ai aiatt> 





t i. 1 BVIoet; 


(.'m. MvM; 

Mneo'cluck would •'erUlnly be a lata boor for taW^ 
Klcbard'a time. But we know from Kkhmood'a vaiA 
(aee above, linein)tliat the auD bad already Mt.aal.aiB 

ACT V. Scene 3. 


ACT V. Scene 3. 

was the 22nd Angust, it mutt bare been now at least two 
hoars later than six o'cIocIl 

588. Line 49: Give vm $ome ink and fMper. —Pope omitted 
this broken line on the ground that Richard asked later 
(line 74>. J» ink and paper ready} But it will be no- 
ticed that thivmghout this scene Richard's manner is 
abrupt and hurried, which was undoubtedly intended by 
the dramatist to show how preoccupied his mind was at 
this crisis of his fate. 

587. Lines 58. 59: 

K. Rich. Catetby,— 

Cate. Mylcrdi 

K. Rich. Send out a punuivant-at-armt. 

Q<|. have: 

Ff : 

A' RicA. Catesby : 
Kat. My lord. 

A'. XicM. RatcUffe. 
Hat. My lord. 

It seems pretty evident that there was here a confusion, 
by no means uncommon, as to the name prefixed to one 
of the speeches. It is possible that the dramatist first 
intended Richard to address liatdiff here, but after- 
wards changed his mind. Qq. and Yi. agree in reading 
Ratdif in lines 66 and 76 below. 

588. Line 63: Oive me a trateh.— Thin is generally ex- 
plained, as in our foot-note, to mean "watch-light," or 
"watching -candle." Baret, 1573, gives under Watch 
" Watching lampes or candels ; " and Minsheu. 1609, 
gives, under Candtet, "a watch Candle." These candles 
were supposed to be marked in certain divisions, each 
division being calculated to bum a certain time. Allu- 
sion to lights is made in line 180 below, "The lights bum 
blue." Otherwise there would seem to be no reason why 
vateh should not mean a timepiece. Shakespeare makes 
mention of tratehet in several places, e.g. Twelfth Night, 
ii. 5 66: "wind up my watch." This is the only place, 
however, where he makes any allusion to leateh or toateh- 
tiHjr candles. 

\. Line 64: Saddle WHITE Surrey for the field to-mor- 
roM*.— Hall sajs (p. 412) that Richard was "mounted on a 
greate white courser." The name would appear to have 
been invented l^ Shakespeare. 

Line 66: Look that my STAVES be sound, and not too 
heavy. —1% was the custom to carry more than one spear 
or lance into battle. Planch^ says (voL L p. 474) under 
Spear: " the longer [was] used by the cavalry, or by the 
foot to repel their advances; the shorter, for close com- 
bat, or to be hurled at a Javelin." ..." Strictly speak- 
ing, however, the lance was the special weapon of the 
knight, and the spear of the foot soldier." 

88L Line 67: Sav'st thou the melancholy Lord Xor- 
THi MBKRLAND?— This wai Henry Percy, fourth Earl of 
Northumberland, son of Henry Percy, Earl of Northum- 
berland, in IIL Henry VI. (See note 7 on that play.) He 
vss kept piiaoDer in the Tower from 1461 to 1469, when 
Edward IV. reatofvd him to hla hoDoarB, creating John 
Lovd Montagoe, who had in the interim been Earl of 
Northumberland, Marquis of Montagu. (See III. Henry 

VL note 16.) In 1483 King Richard appointed him Lord 
High Chamberlain of England; but, in spite of this mark 
of the usurper's favour, Northumberland does not seem 
ever to have been sincerely attached to his cause. In 
1485, on hearing of Richmond landing in Wales, Richard 
summoned Northuniberiand to attend him with all the 
forces he could raise in the north. Hall says of htm 
(p. 419): Among those who submitted to Richmond was 
"Henry the. iiii. erle of Northumberlande, whiche whither 
it was by the commaundement uf kyng Rycharde putt]mge 
diffidence in him, or he dyd it for the loue i^ fanor 
that he bare vnto the Earle, stode still with a greate com- 
paignie and intermitted not in the battaill, which was 
incontinently receyued in to fauour and made of the 
counsail." He came to a tragic end. Having been 
directe<l by Henry VII. to raise a heavy subsidy in the 
north, he applied in vain for an abatement, which was 
refused by the king; and the populace, holding him 
resiMUsible for the imposition of tlie tax, murdered him 
and several of his servants at Cocklodge, near Thirsk, in 
Yorkshire, 28th April, 14»9. For a full account of this 
nobleman, see Collins's Peerage, vol. ii. pp. 279-301. He 
married ^Slaude, sister of the Earl of Pembroke, and 
among the children he had by her was Sir William Percy, 
who was one of tlie commanders at Flodden. 

As for the epithet melancholy, Maloue says: "Richard 
calls him melancholy, because he did not join heartily in 
his cause " (Var. Ed. vol. xix. p. 213). This is not a satis- 
factory explanation. No similar use of the word occurs 
anywhere else. It looks very much as if it was not the 
epithet tlie author really used. It may possibly mean 

608. Line 09: COCK-SHUT fimr— Grose {gitb voce) in his 
Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, 1785, explains 
this word as " that time of the evening when fowls go to 
roost." But this explanation, however obvious and plau- 
sible, is not the right one. A cock-shut was, apparently, 
a kind of large clap-net, used for catching woodcocks in 
the twilight This is the explanation given, originally, 
by Whalley in his note upon the lines in Ben Jonson's 

The Satyr: 

For you would not yesternight 

Kiss him in the cocJt'Shut light. 

—Works, Tol. vi. p. 473. 

Gilford explains the word, in his usual dc^^atic style, 
without any reference to authorities, as "a large net sus- 
pended between two long poles, and stretched across a 
glade, or riding, in a wood, where a man is placed to 
watch when the birds rise, or strike against it. " The ex- 
pression occurs in two or three passages in old plays, 
most of which are quoted in the Var. Ed. vol. xix. pp. 213. 
214. It might reasonably be doubted whether the mean- 
ing given by Whalley is the right one; but two passages, 
quoted by Steevens O'ar. Ed, vol. xix. p. 214X seem to 
settle the question: the first being taken from "No 
Whipping nor Trippinge: but a kinde friendly Snippinge," 

A silly honest creature nnay do well 

To watch a cocke^hoote, or a limed bush; 

the second from "The Treatyse of Fishynge with the 
Angle, by Dame Julyana Bemes, 1496," where " among 
the directions to make a fishing rod is the following: 


ACT V. Scum 3. 

•Tike UuDDs ud tr»H» him fuM with a codHiliel* 
corde.'" Prom thii It would tpptn tlut thli Uod ol 
net wu comuoD enoue:b, and ttut a pArtJcuLu siie of 
cord wai uKd For It- TbLa deriTALloii at eoekAut li coD' 
Bnned by Y«rtEl1, who uyi (tuI, U. p. 687); "TowtnU 
night It (the woodcock) ul[l» rorth on illent wjng, pur- 
■olog > well-known liuk throuek the coTcr to Ita l«edlng- 
gronnd. Theee tnckioropen glidH In woodt, ueionie- 
tlnm cilled eoektiuKti, lad cockroBdl, imd It !• In thsea 
Iduei that iiedr were furmerlf lUipendod for tlialr cip- 

801. Line 71: rmiatiifiiil.—aiKnualiovtiifvint.— 
We have followed CHpell in tnufenlng tlia woid So, 
whlcb lUDdt at the IwKinnInc of thli line in Qq. FT., to 
line T4 below, where ■ lylUble leemi certainly required 
«t the beglnuing of Uie Hue. 



e*<ilent1y luggetted 

All eeinfort that the dari night can aford 
Bt toOivjHnon, iwM< r ATHKB-IN-UW ! 
TiU <itt, hmn/amour wvijiQ madurl 
Stanley wu Klchinl'i •leplither— the word faiAer-in-taie 
ti freitutntly uaed Id the ume lenae nowediyi— harlng 
olMTled llli moUier u lili •econd wKe. (See eboTe, note 
IS) IJ.I.Q Zhave-Iorii^molher^" thereelof Iheold 
coplei luMa, an obvioua mlttike of the copylit, being i 
repetition ot Uis epithet lu the line above. 

an. Linei as, Bs : 

it beglni to hreill 

country, tone before the >un ri 
■ itarlen uiglit. The nuii'f 
Into Imgular piece* ebaped 111 

(OT. LinetM: miiiTAL-STiiUNa its r.— Several emeDdi- 
Iluue have been prupoicd fur Ibii epithet, which la anOl- 
t'ieiiUy vipnuive and needi uo alteration. Tlio two 
wor<tB are nut hypbened ia the old coplea. There may 
l>ea mulnlKence of the Mcdnw's head In thla deacrlptlon 
of war; or It may refer to the lUed and fierce itaie aeen 
in the [ace of a man Dghtlng lur hl> life. 

•M. Line K: thy bretktr, Itialtr Gterffr.—lba chronlc- 
Icra repri'ient (itvnjt Slaiili'ii ai a young boy; but be 
really waa a (;roHU niBU. Sonw account ot him will be 
found iu uoU 13. It should be added tbat be bore the 
title of Lord Stranmi in rlHht ol hie wife. At tlUi time 
he wa* alreitily married, uid had been made a Knight of 
the CatU liy £dwatd IV. 

I'ompare Richard II. [. 

no. UnelOt. IttitmK,tiHlitraKbUdTmoVOtm,liHai» 
anap.—Sv Qq.; n. have -wtth troubled natw.- vtaldi 
GrantWhllaalteredto-tnableduifAMoiK.'' The lead- 
ing of <(q. !• decidedly preferable here; althongb Grant 
White delendt the reading of Ft. , or rather hli alteraUon 
of it. on the ground (hat Shalieipeare repreeented Rli:h- 
mond "ai entirely untroubled in mind, and aureof vic- 
tory from the time when be Dnt appean upon the aune' 
(Ruire, p. MO). Bat larely thle It nther an eiaggeratloo. 
Richmond wa* Dot troubled In hi* cooadence ai Richard 
wai; but he muiC have had plenty of aniiety, aa. Indeed. 
he hat already ibowQ In hii anxiety to km Stanley (ice 
alwve, V. 3. 39-41). The expreulon bda a iwp occun 
only In one other lAHigg hi Bhakeipeare, Twelfth Kighl. 
T. 1. bi: "let your bounty lair a mtp." In Taulag ol 
the Shrew, Sly aayi (lad. li. S3); "by my fay, a goodlr 

811. Line 


nage here li taken froi 

indebted tor Ihlt 

■U. Line lis: En Ilttfatl the 

—Compare Bom. and Jul. iv. L Ii 

fall," and Lots'! Labour > lAut, t. 

Belulil Ike ufwAin of my bi 

SIS. Line IIS - Slmkeipean < 
powerful eccnc, where Uie ghoit* of hli victli 
to the guilty Richard, to a tuggeitloa In the el 
Hall CP- *U) «*y«. copyhig Tolydore Virgil: " The laiw 
went that he had the lamc night a dreadful & a tentblt 
dreame, fur It aemed to hym beynge a sleepe y* he lave 
dJuerte yniagei lyke Urrlbla deuellee whiche pulled aad 
llaled hym, not inlfBryiige liyni to take any quyet or It* 
The whlche itniuuge vliion not bo evdeluly atrake ho 
heart with a lodeyue teare, but It itulTed hlB bed bbiI 
troubled hi* mynde with many dreadlull and bumy Iiaip- 
naduna For Inconlynent alter, lili heart lif>iige ahuM 
damped, he prognottl>«ted belore the doubUuU cheunn 
of tlia battaile (o come, not vaynge the alacrlte asd 

lomeil to do befDre he came toward the battalia And 
that It might be luepected that he waa abaaM 

>r teal 

•f hli ( 

. and for 

pileoutly. he recyted and declaivd tn hya famylyerf io die 

eu. Line m-.ByViMtnu mJtCHKDfnanfdtainftila 
—Thla Hue ii one ol the wont In all Sbaketpeare <M 
can Branely beliere be ever wrote It; tor even admluuf 
tliat pHNCJted did not bear, at that time, the mote nlpr 
aeou tliat it hai now, the whole eipreaalon la iliJUitl; 
unpoetleal. The only Initancea that leem to IWTetet* 


le ul tl 

and below, line £ffi: 

Iliad, bl 
each tnrloui dame; " a pausge where the poet Ib r 
to the attack made by Lyrurgua. king ol the Edr 
BacchnB and hli lollowlng of women: alao In SI 
Anlonlo'iKerengef^nd part of Antonio and UcUld^ifl 
L ac. 3. where It Ii written paiincAC; 

ACT Y. Soene 3. 


ACT V. Scene 3. 

Two memger ffaosts made apparition. 

The oa's breast seem'd fresh ptuiMckt with bU«diH£ vtonnds. 

Whose buUtnc gore tpnaag ia [my] frighted eyes. 

—Works, voL 1. p. 8o. 

Iteret giTes in hii Alvearie, 1573, under jwiieA, "see To 
punish." PalagraTe, 1680. gives: "I pumche. Je houUe, 
Je pou§$e, prim conj. Whye puneheH thou me with thy 
fyste on this facyon? ' 

C15. Line 190: Thee in thy tleep doth eatn/ort: live and 
.jfouriiA.— Qq. hare: 

Doth comfort thee in tAiy sleep: live and flourish ! 

while FL omit thy. Rowe adopted the reading of Ff. 
and inserted "live thou." There are several other con- 
jectural emendations. The one in our text, which we 
have ventured to print, is simply a rearrangement of the 
first part of the sentence as given in Qq., and avoids the 
awkw^ardness of the accent falling on thy. 

616. Line 132: /, that wae tmth'd to death with ful- 
j!*>ME icine.—So all the old copies, except F, 8, F. 4, which 
have "in fulsome wine." Dyce (note 106) proposed 
" waah'd in death," because Clarence was not drowned 
in the malmsey, but stabbed before he was thrown into 
the malmsey-butt However, on reference to the descrip- 
tion of his murder, we find that it is not quite certain 
that he was dead when thrown into the butt of malmsey. 
.^eeLi. 276,277: 

Ay, thus, and thus (stabs Mt'm) : if all this will not do, 
I H drown you in the malmsey-butt within. 

The exact force of fuUome here is rather doubtful. 
Malmsey was a rich, luscious wine, of which one would 
nut care to drink much. The sense given in our foot-note 
is the nearest we can find, if the word is supposed to 
convey any idea of uauseousness. If, on the other hand, 
thcT idea intended to be conveyed by the ei>ithet is that 
of "excess," "over-fulness," it may refer to tlie large 
quantity of wine. 

617. Line 143: Let /all thy lance: despair, and die!— So 
i^4 Ff. It would seem that the epithet to lance has been 
omitted here; compare line 135 above: 

And fan thy tdgttess sword : despair, and die ! 

Pointleu is the epithet which would occur to nearly 
everyone to suggest, and, therefore, we are not surprised 
to find that it is supplied by Collier's Old Corrector. 
UurUeu is Capell's conjecture. Neither word occurs 
elsewhere in Shakespeare. One might suggest other 
fpithets; but it is possible that the line is intentionally 
defective, as well as line 148, just 1>elow (see next noteX 
These lines are the last lines spoken by the ghosts to 
Richard before turning to Richmond. It will be also 
noticed that the words despair, and die! are repeated by 
every ghost as the last words said to Richard. These 
would be preceded or accompanied, doubtless, by a 
solemn and menacing gesture, which would serve to fill 
op the hiatus in the line; the hiatus being of the same 
nature at that of a rest in music (see Richard IT. note 170, 
sod John, note 31SX It is in favour of the theory that 
the omission of the epithet was intentional that none of 
<^. or Ff. shoold have attempted to supply it. There is 
another way in which tiie line might be rendered com- 
plete, and that ia by the actor repeating the word 

618. Line 148: Think on Lord Ilattings: despair, and 
die .'—Here again most of the editors insist upon inserting 
a syllable to complete the line. Collier's ingenious Old 
Corrector again distinguishes himself by inserting so 
before despair, which is certainly an improvement on 
the and of Pope. Again we prefer to print the line as 
it stands in all the old copies. 

619. Line 151 : The Ghosts of the two young Princes 
rise. — It is worth pointing out that in Q. 1, Q. 2, the 
Ohosts of the two young Princes appear 6^ore the ghost 
of Hastings. In all the other old copies they appear after, 
which is more natural, as, throughout this scene, all the 
ghosts have appeared in succession, according to their 
precedence in order of their respective deaths at the hand 
of Richard. 

680. Lines 152. 153: 

Let us be LAID vithin Oiy bosom, Richard, 
And weigh thee doicn to ruin, ttfiame, and death. 

So Ff. and all Q(i. except Q. 1, which has lead, the reading 
almost universally adopted by modem edd. It is with 
some hesitation that we prefer the reading of the major- 
ity of the old copies. No doubt instances occur in Shake- 
speare of the use of lead in a similarly figurative sense, 
e.g. in Ant. and Cleo. iii. 7. 72: "Love, 1 am full of lead;" 
in Macbeth, ii. 1. 6: 

A heavy summons lies like /<ad upon me ; 

and in Venus and Adonis, line 1072: 

Mine eyes are tum'd to Are, my lieart to /f:it/. 

But still there is something commonplace in the expres- 
sion here; and though it may seem a very fanciful idea, 
one cannot help remembering that the question of where 
the bodies of the young princes were laid remained a 
mystery for some time after their deaths. Surely the 
wish tliat their murderer might be compelled to bear the 
burdens of their murdered bodies in his bosom, the moral 
weight of which would weigh him " down to ruin, shame, 
and death," is at least as poetical as that they might turn 
to a lump of lead, which is suggestive rather more of indi- 
gestion than of remorse. Lead seems to be exactly one 
of those corrections which a too hasty emeudator might 

681. Line 150: Crood angels guard thee from the BOAR'S 
ANNOY.— One of the numerous references to the crest 
Richard bore, which occur constantly throughout the 
play, and notably in the well-known speech of Richmond 
to his soldiers at tlie begiuning of scene 2 of this act. 

Line 100: T?iat never slept a quiet hour with thee.— 
Anne makes the same complaint, iv. 1. 83, 84: 

For never yet one hour in his bed 
Have I enioy'd the golden dew of sleep. 

Lines 103. 164 : 
And/aU thy edgeless sxoord: despair, and die!— 
Thou (jniet soul, sleep thou a quiet sleep. 

Lettsom suggests that these lines are spurious. They 
certainly are ver>' weak, and the fact that line 163 is a 
repetition of line 135 above looks very suspicious. But 
this scene is very unequally written throughout. It con- 
tains some of the very l)est and some of the very .worst 
lines in the piny. 


ACT V. Soene 3. 


ACT V. 8c ne 1 

Line 1«6: Thy adver$ary*$ strife doth pray for thee. 
—This is not a happy line. If Anne had been alive, her 
natural anxiety to become a widow would have given it 
greater point 

626. Line 173: / DIEP FOR hope ere 1 could lend thee aid. 
—This is a passage which has been much but needlessly 
amended. Theobald conjectured "for holpe;" Hanmer 
forimke; Tyrwhitt fore-done. For the probable meaning 
of the expression see our foot-note. Dyce (note 110) 
•iuotes from Greene's James the Fourth, v. 6: 

'Twixt love aiid fear continual are the wars ; 

The one assures me of my Ida's love. 

The other mores me for my murder'd queen : 

Thus find I grief of that whereon I Joy. 

And doubt in greatest hope, and death in weaL 

Alas, what hell may be compar'd with mine. 

Since in extremes my comforts do consist ! 

War then will cease when dead ones are reviv'd ; 

Some then will yield when I am dend/or hopf. 

— Works, p, 217. 

In that passage the expression dead jor hope certainly 
means "drad to hope." 

Line 170: And Richard FALL in height of all his 
priV/«?.-So Ff. : Qq. have falh. We prefer retaining the 
subjunctive of Ff. 

827. Line 180: The lightif burn bluk.— 7^ w now dead 
Midnight.— The superstition that the lights burn blue in 
the presence of a ghost seems to be a very old one, and to 
have survived even to the present time. Brand in his 
Popular Antiquities (p. 627) says: "Should there be a 
lighted candle in the room during the time of an appari- 
tion, we are instructed that it will bum extremely blue; 
this being a fact 'so universally acknowledged that many 
eminent philosophers have busied themselves in account- 
ing for it, without once doubting the truth of the fact.'" 
He is quoting the opinion of Grose, nnd on p. 628 he says: 
"Grose confesses his inability to learn that ghotU carry 
tapers in their hands, as they are occasionally depicted, 
though they contrive to illuminate the room in which 
they appear, destitute though it be of fire or candle." 
This luminosity was of a more or less phospboreacent 
nature ; and therefore the superstition alwut the candles 
bumimj blue may have no further foundation than the 
idea that the light became pale and blue, like a pboapbo- 
rescent light. In the presence of a ghost. Ghosts are fre- 
quently described as bringing a cold atmosphere with 
them. The effect of reducing the oxygen of a room would 
be. I believe, to make the lighte bum pale and blue. The 
following passage is from Lilly's Gallathea (II. 8): "That's 
a stincking spirit, I thought there was some spirit in it 
because It burnt go blew. For my mother would often 
tell me that when the candle burnt blew, there was 
some 111 spirit In the house, and now I perceive It was the 
spirit brimstone" (AVorks. vol. I. p. 235). In Monk Lewis 
well-known ballad "Alonxo the Brave' the same Idea 
occurs on the entrance of the ghost: 

The lijfhts in the chamber hum'd l>hu. 

"It Is notr; •• so Q 1: the other old copies. "It Is not. 
Lines 182, 183: 

What) do I fear my»e\f1— there » nmie eUe by: ■ 
Jlichard loves Richard; that is, J am 1. 


The punctuaUon in line 182 is from F. 1; Q. 1, which 
most editors follow, has: What do Ifearf myself i Either 
reading may be right It is worth noting the intense 
egotism of line 183. Richard Is completely aelf-contalned, 
and depends for sympathy, or love, on no one. The 
whole of the passage, Unes 182-208 inclusive, looks refy 
much like an after insertion. Some of the lines are poor 
enough, but the last eleven lines (198-208) c*nld ill be 
spared. It Is interesting to compare with this speech 
that of the king in Hamlet, ill. 8, especially the foUowing 

But. O, what form of prayer 
Can serve my turn ? Forgive me my foul murder ! 
That cannot be: since I am still possess'd 
Of those effecu for which I did the murder. 
My crown, mine own amUtion. and my queeo. 
May one be pardon 'd. and retain the offence ? 

—Lines 51-56. 
What then? what rests? 

Try what repentance can : What can it not T 

Yet what can it. when one can not repent ? 

O wretched state 1 O bosom, black as death ! 

limed soul; that struggling to be free. 

Art more engag'd I Help, angels, make a&say ! 

Bow, stubborn knees I and. heart, with strings of sted. 

Be sofk as sinews of the new-bom babe; 

All may be well. _ Unes 64-;^. 

Gf course there is not any absolute resemblance between 
the two speeches; but, in each case, it Is a guilty num 
communing with his own conscience, while suffering from 
a momentary paroxysm of remorse. But, while their 
characters are essentially different, the thoroughly dis- 
tinct Individuality which Shakespeare has given to the 
two men Is none the less remarkable. 

6S9. Lines 202. 203 : 

since that I myself 
Find in myself no pity to myself. 

Compare above, iv. 2. 64 : 

Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye. 

630. Lines 204-206 : 

Methought the souls of all that J had murder'd 
Came to my tent; and every one did threat 
To-morrow's vengeance on the head qf Richard. 

These lines certainly come in here rather awkwirdlj. 
Johnson would have placed them after line lOS. BauL 
following Mason's suggestion. Inserted them after Ifaw HI 
and that arrangement Is followed by many modem edi- 
tors, including Dyce. Grant White would insert thflsi 
after line 178, which is a far more sensible snggestiMU 
for surely Kichanl would not talk to KatcUfr about tk 
souls of all that he had murdered. The probabiU(r ^ 
that the speech originally consisted of only nine Uno^ 
and that these lines followed 181. When the insertioDof 
lines 182-203 was made, perhaps the author, or peiios 
who transcribed the Insertion, forgot to draw his pen 
through these three llnea They certainly form here sa 
anticlimax, for, in the two preceding lines. Richard^ 
natural cynicism had regained its sway, and he woiM 
seem to have dismissed, for a moment, all thoughts of Ike 
ghosts. But still, as we do not like to omit thean sMs- 
gether, and do not see that there is any partlcnlar nsm 
for placing them elsewhere In any one petition more tkM 

ACT y. soMM s. 


ACT V. Scene S. 

mottier, we have left them in the text at they are found 
In all the old copies. 

at Line 209: My lord, 'tit I. The early vmage-cock, 
Ac.— The well-known anecdote of the actor who, when 
quaking thia line, omitted the stop in the middle, thos: 
My lord, 't is I the early Tillage cock, 

ahowa how important it ia to obaerye the proper pauaes 
when acting. 

OS. Lines 213. 214: 

What thinkest thou,—foiU our/riende pnfve cM true) 
Rat Xo doubly my lord. 
K. Rich. Ratdiff, I Star, I fear! 

This speech of Richard's and the one of Ratcliff's are 
omitted in Ft, which give only half a line to Richard— 
Batdiff, J fear, I fear! ^w that Ratcliff's answer, 
line S15, has not much sense, as the king has not said 
anything about shadows. This omission on the part of 
Fl is clearly accidental, and arose from the transcriber 
mixing the second Ratciiff of line 214 with the one of 
line 212. Those editors who insert lines 204-206 after 
line 214 do so because of RatclifTs reference to shadowe 
in the next line; but he may very well be supposed to 
refer to Richard's fearful dream mentioned in line 212. 
Aa haa already been pointed out, in note 630 above, it is 
rery unlikely that Richard would have talked of his 
murders as murdere to any of liis dependants. 

Lines 220. 221: 

Come, §0 vnth me; 

Under our tent* I'll play the EAVES-DROPPER. 

Walker suggests that we should transfer the semicolon 
^m the end of line 220 to after Under our tente; and so 
Sanmer and Capell punctuated the passage. But Uiuier 
mr tents here is a similar expression to Under our win- 
loirs. This Is the only passage in Shakespeare where this 
vord eavee dropper occurs. It is a word which seems 
o have given a great deal of trouble. F. 4 is the only 
dd copy which spells the word correctly; Q. 1 has eate- 
Iropper; Q. 2, ewee dropper; Q. 3. ewee-dropper ; Q. 4, 
aume-dropper ; Q. 5, Q. 6, Q. 7, Q. 8, eweeedropper ; F. 1, 
\ 2, F. 8, ease-dropper. In The Tempest, v. 1. 17, eaves 
s spelt correctly; in All s Well, iii 7. 42. it is spelt eeuet; 
Ad in Measure for Measure, ill iL 186, eeues. Of the 
arioos forms given here from the texts of Qq. and Ff. 
OM nuiy have been the old way of spelling the word. 

Line 224 : Cry merey; i.e. "/ cry you mercy. " That 
»hraae occurs frequently in Shakespeare; but this is the 
»nl/ instance of the omission of the objective case. / is 
omeCinies omitted, e.y. Two Gent of Verona, v. 4. 94: 
' O, cry you merey, sir." 

Line 231: and cried ON vurtor^.— Compare Hamlet, 
^ £. 875: " This qnany cries on havoc." 

Line 2S&— This speech is partly founded on the 
t^eechea given in Hall; but the resemblance is not very 
iloce. According to Hall (p. 416) Richmond delivered 
ibia speech " mounted on a lytell hyll so that all his 
>^lde myght se and beholde bym perfltly to there great 
'^Bioysyng.'* The speech is far too long to quote. The 
^<>Uowing paasagea are those most uaed by the dramatist 

Lines 243, 244 : " besyde this I aiaure you that there be 
yonder in that great battaill, men brought thither for 
feare and not for loue, souldiours by force compelled and 
not w^ good will assembled: persons which desyer rather 
the destruccion then saluacion of their master and cap- 
tayn " (p. 417). Line 258: " but yf we wyn this battaill, y* 
hole riche realme of England with the lordes and rulers 
of the same shall be cures, the profit shall be cures and 
Ihe honour shall be cures. Therfore labour for your 
gayne and swet for your right: while we were in Brytalne 
we had small liuynges and lytle plentye of wealth or wel- 
fare, now is the time come to get abuudaunce of riches 
and copie of profit which is the rewarde of your seruice 
and merite of your payne " (p. 417). Lines 267, 268: " And 
this one thyng I assiu'e you, that in so iuste and good a 
cause, and so notable a quarell, you shall fyude me this 
daye, rather a dead carion vppou tlie coold grounde, then 
a fre prisoner on a carpet in a laydes chamber " (p. 418). 

687. Line 250: made precious by the foil.— Compare 
Richard IL i. 3. 266, 267: 

Esteem asfoii, wherein thou art to set 
The precious Jewel of thy honie>rctum. 

688. Line 262: Your children's children QUIT it in your 
age.—Qq. Ff. by mistake have quits. 

689. Line 269: Sound drums and trumpets, boldly, dieer- 
fully.—(iii. Ff. read " boldly and cheerfully;" the and in 
the liue below having probably caught the transcriber's 
eye. The correction is Pope's. 

640. Lines 281-283: 

The sun tcill not be seen to-day; 
The sky doth frown and lour upon our army. 
I would these deioy tears were from (he ground. 

These allusions do not seem to have been noticed by any 
of the commentators. A great point is made of the fact 
that Richmond had so placed his army that they would 
have the sun at their backs, while it would be in the eyea 
of Richard's army. Though all the chroniclers allude to 
this precaution of Richmond's, they do not make any 
mention of the weather being, as seems to be implied 
here, gloomy and wet. The meaning of the last line is 
not quite clear. Does Richard mean that it was drizzling, 
or that there was a damp mist; or does he mean that 
he wishes there was not so much dew on tlie ground, 
from being=" SLvrayfrom "? The battle of Bosworth was 
fought on the 22nd August, at which time of the year it 
was likely that, on marshy ground, there would be a mist 
rising in the morning. 

641. Lines 292-300.— Hall thus describes the arrange- 
ment of Richard's forces (p. 414): " kyng Richard beyng 
furnished w* men & all abiliro€tes of warr, bringyng all 
his men out of there camp into y« plaine. ordered his for- 
ward in a marueylous l^h. in which he appointed both 
horsemen and footmen to thent^t toemprynte in y* hartes 
of thd y* loked a farre of, a sodcine terror & deadlie 
feare, for y« great multitude of y« armed souldiours : & 
in the fore Frount he placed y« archers like a strong for- 
tified trench or bulwarke: oner this battaile was captain 
Jhon'duke of Xorfolke with whom was Thomas erle of 
Surrey his sonne. After this Idg vatgard folowed king 

145 «5 

ACT V. Scene 8. 


ACT V. Soaae 1 

Kichard hi Mif, w* a strdg cdpaigny of choaen A approaed 
mc of yfixrr, hauyng honuen fur wynges on both y* aidea 
of his battaiL" It will be seen that Shakespeare has 
closely fullowetl hiit autUoritiea. 

642. Line 2d3: My /oretpard ihaU be draum out all 
in len(jth.—i^o Q. 1; all the other old copies omit out oA; 
and perhaps we ought to road be drawn out in length, 

6iS. Line 208: They thus directed, we will /olhw.—Fo^ 
added ''wo aurtelj;" but the line may have been pur- 
posely left imperfect, in order to suit the hurried and 
almost feverish manner of the speaker. 

6M. Line 301: Saint George to BOOT I— There is much 
difference of opinion as to tlie exact meaning of this ex- 
pression. Some explain to hoot ass " to help;" but there 
is no doubt that it simply means '"in addition/ lit ' for 
an advantngo.'" See Skeat, sub voce. In Bichard II. L 3. 
84 we have a somewhat similar expression: 

Mine innocency <uid Saifit Gtorgt /<» tkriitl 

Hall and Uulinshcd both have Saint George to borrow! 
which must have been the oldest form. Compare Kichard 
IL note 70. 

6tf . Lines 304, 805: 

" Jockey of Norfolk, be not TOO bold. 

For Dickon thy master is bought and sold," 

All the chroniclers have these two lines verbatim as in 
text Qci. Ff. have "so bold," except Q. 6. Q. 7. Q. 8, 
which have "to bold." This is evidently a mistake. 
Capell was the first to make the obvious correction. 

018. Line 316. A sort of vagabonds, ra8eals,nvv jlyf AYS.— 
Qq. and F. 1 have " and runaways." F. 2 was the first to 
omit the and. For runatcays used aM=runagates, com- 
pare Romeo and Juliet, iii. 2. 6, and see note 107 on tliat 
passage. It Ls worth noting that Richard has called 
Richmond " white-liver'd runagate" (iv. 4. 463). 

617. Line 319: To desperate ventures and assur'd de- 
struction.— Qii Ft. have " desperate adventures," which 
spoils the jnctre of the line. Capell made the necessary 

648. Line 322: They would DISTRAIN the one, distain 
the other.— Qq. Ff. have restrain. The emendation is 
Hanmer's, following Warburton's suggestion, and has 
been adopted by Walker and Dyce and by Collier's MS. 
Corrector. There seems to be no instance in Shakespeare 
of the use of restrain in the sense required here, whereas 
distra\/i is used twice in the sense of "to take possession 
of;" in Richard II. ii. 3. 131: 

My father's fnoodB are all dtstrntHd and lold. 

and in I. Henry VI. i. 3. 61. 

Line 824: Long kept in Bretagne at our MOTHER'S 
eott.— So Qq. Ff. This mistake arose from Shakespeare 
having copied (as noticed alMve, note 470) from the second 
edition of Holinshed, which, by a printer's error, has 
mother^s instead of brother's. Richmond was really sup- 
ported by Richard's brother-in-law, the Duke of Bur- 
gundy, who married his sister Mary. Hall, from whom 
Holinslied copied, as usual, verbatim, has, quite correctly, 
in Richard's speech (p. 415X "brought vp by my brothers 


meanes and myne like a cAptiae in a close cage in tht 
court of Fraunces duke of Britaine.** We have f<riUowed. 
very reluctantly, moat editors in preserving this enw. 
one which Shakespeare surely would have corrected had 
it been pointed out to him. Some commentators Insiil 
that it is worth retaining this error, because it proTci 
that Shakespeare copied from Holinshed and not fh» 
Hall, and that the edition he uaed was the second edition, 
in which alone this mistake occurs. But granting thk to 
be the fact, we fail to see why a mistake so obvious, sad 
so absurd, should be retained in the t«.xt 

666. Line 825: 

A MILK-SOP, one that never in his life 
Felt so niueh cold as over shoes in snov. 

Hall has this very expression (p. 416): "he is a Welih 
mylkesoppe, a m& of small courage and of lease experieiw 
in marcyall actes and feates of warr. " 

66L Line 884: beaten, bobb'p, and thutnp'd.—Tb\% doI 
very eloquent sentence is Shakespeare's own. To M 
meant not only " to cheat," but " to give a &harp blow.* 
It generally seems to have been used in more or less cnak 
passages. Shakespeare uses the wonl in the same Kue 
in TroUus and Cressida, ii. L 76: "I have bobb'd his bnia 
more than he has beat my bones." 

6tt. Line 844: Off with hU son's head!—Q(i. ¥t. hate: 
Off with Mis son George's head ! 
Hanmer made it a metrically perfect line by printing: 

off instantiy with his son George's head ! 

But the line is, probably, meant to he incomplete in oi^ 
to emphasize the abruptness of the speaker. Some eoMS- 
dation in the text seems necessary, if the line is to be 
spoken with that quickness and decision which sre.dn- 
matically speaking, absolutely requisite. Other tvutsisr 
tious which suggested themselves are: 

UfT with his Geoq^e's head ! 
OfT with yoHNg Geor^cS head ! 
Off with son Gcorxe's head ! 
Off with 's son George's head ! 

The last we should have printed, but although kitmj 
often occurs, in the elided form '», with other prepoii> 
tions, its elision here would not make the line any es^ 
to speak. It is probable that the author originally wntt 
tlie.'lino as we have printed it, and that the word G«oc|i 
was subsequently added ; at anyrate. the dramslfe w- 
quiremeuts are fulfilled by the emendation we han ««* 
tured to print. 

663. Line 345: Uy lord, the enemy is past the mank.^ 
Compare Hall (p. 418): " Betwene both armies therm* 
great marrysse." 


664. Line 8: Daring an OPPOSITE to every danfff" 

Compare Hamlet, v. 2. 60-6S: 

*T is dangerous when the baser nature comet 
Between the pasa and fell incensed points 
Of roighty of/osit€S; 

and II. Henry VI. v. 8. 21. S2: 

T is not enough our foes are this time fled. 
Being c//Mitts of such repairing nature. 

So0M 4. 


ACT V. Scene A. 

•twanl for SmelU: " Yet doth he deny to grapple 
10^ bat continually standeth ready to oppose him- 
linst any that dare be his cppwiiU " (Percy So- 
print, 1848, p. ey 

ne 7: A hone! a hone! my kinffdom/or a hone! 
Uowing are among some of the cuntemporaneoos 
( to thii panage, which appears to have been 
pelj imitated and parodied by the writers of the 

m, Sconigf of Villanie, 1608, satyre 7: 
A man, a man. a kingtlome for a man ! 

itaster, or the Fawne, 160C: 

foole. a foole, a foole, my coxcombe for a foole ! 

— S^. H 3, back. 

t yon WiU, 1G07, iL 1, he quotes the line liter- 

ft 1 he moant(s] Chlrall on the winf;^ of fame. 
horUt a her St, tny kingdom for 4 korst t 
>oke the, I t[«ake play scrappes. 

Brathwaite. Strappado for the Divell, IG1&: 

If I had UT'd but in Kin|? Richards daycs 

Who In his heat of passion, mid^t the force 

Of bis Assailants troubled many waies 

Crying *«i MorttI a Kmcdomt/or a Morse' 

O then which now at IJvery stayes 

Had beene set free. —Upon a Poets Talfrey, p. 154. 

rs Iron Age. 1611: 

SjH. A kors«, a horst. 

Pyr. Ten Kingd^mts for a horst to enter Troy. 

—Works. voL iii p. 369. 

it and Fletcher, The Little French Lawyer, iv. : 

k up. brave friend ; I have no means to rescue thee. 

kvi£dtm/»r a rucrd. 

—Works, ii. p. 431. 

ay be a reminiscence of this line in the following 
Erom Hey wood, IL Edward IV.: 

A staff, a st.ifle ! 

A thousand crownes for a staffl 

—Works, ToL i. p. 143. 

Ine 13.— We have placed part of the stage-direc- 
». slightly altered, which is usually placed at the 
ff of tlie next scene. The stage-direction in Q(|. 
rmn^ Enter Richard and Richmond, they fight, 
it dain then re trait being tounded. Enter Rich- 
mrty, bearing the eroume trith other Lorde, d:e." 
ft. is: "Alarum, Enter Richard and Richmond, 
t, Richard it daine. 

L and Flourieh. Enter Richmond, Derby bear- 
mrtmt, teith diuen other Lords," Dyce altered 
** Alarums. EiUer, from opposite sides. KlJfO 
} and RiCHMOXD; they fight, aruf exeunt fighting. 
and fiourish. Then re-enter Richmond, with 

bearing the crown, and divers other Lords, and 
and has the following note: *' Mr. Knight retains 
-direction of the old copies '—they fight; Richard 
&c.. and sayi In his note, Mt is important to pre- 
as showing the course of the dramatic action.' 
Knight understanda ' the dramatic action ' to be 
MI here, I cannot conceive. If, after Richard is 
the sight of the audience, Stanley enters bearing 
m which he has plucked off from his 'dead 

there must have been two Richards in the 

field.— The fact is, that here, as fre<iuently elsewhere, in 
the old copies, the stage-direction is a piece of mere con- 
fusion: Richard and Richmond were evidently intended 
by the author to go of the stage fighting." The Cambridge 
edd. retain the stage-direction of the old copies (note 
xzvii.): "because it is probable from Derby's speech, 
'From the dead temples of this bloody wretch,' that 
Richard's body is lying where he fell, in view of the 
audience;" and Dyce observes: "Nor is any stress to be 
laid on the expression 'this bloody wretch:' in p. 441 
Richard, though not present, is called 'this foul swine' 
and ' this guilty homicide.'" Tliere certahily seems to be 
some confusion if the stage-direction of the old copies be 
adhered to, because Derby, ie. Stanley, could hardly enter 
bearing the crown, if Richard were on the stage with the 
crown on his head. When Richard III. is acted, this last 
scene is always omitted; the play ending with the death 
of Richard, or rather with the entry of Richmond and his 
supporters, and the crowning of the victor in dumb-show. 
Tlie way in which we have arranged the stage-direction 
seems to get rid of tlie difficulty. 

As to the crown Hull says (p. 420): "Then y* people 
reioysed & clapped hades criyng vp to heauen, kyng 
Henry, k}iig Henry. When the lord Stanley sawe the good 
will and gratuite of the people he toke the crowne of 
kyuge Richard which was founde amongest the spoyle in 
the felde. and set it on therles bed, as though he had 
byne elected king by the voyce of the people as in 
auncient tymes past in diuers realroes it hath been accus- 
tomed, and this was the first signe and token of his good 
lucke and felicite." The Clarendon Press edd. (p. 235) 
say: "Tradition relates that it (the crown) was found in 
a hawtliom bush, and in Henry the Seventh's Chapel 
'the stained-glass retains the emblem of the same crown 
hanging on the green bush in the fields of Leicestershire. 
(Stanley, Memorials of Westminster Abbey, p. 150.)" 
Richard is said to have worn the crown in order to 
render himself conspicuous, or, according to Polydore 
Virgil, "thinking that Day should either be the Last of 
Ills Life, or the First of a Better" (Buck, vol. i. p. 542). 


667. Line 0: But, tell me, isTUHyoung Oeorge Stanley 
living?— All the old copies read: 

But tell me is young George Stanley liring? 

an awkward, unrhythmical line. Various emendations 
have been proposed. Pope would read " tell me first;" 
Keightley, "tell me pray;" Dyce, "tell me note." We 
have ventured to print the emendation in our text as 
being, in some respects, preferable. 

6SS. Line 11: Whither, if't pleats you, we may note with- 
draw us.^Qq. have (substantially): "if't please you we 
may now withdraw us;" Ff. "if you please we may with- 
draw us.** 

6M. Lines IS, 14: 
John Duke <^ Sor/olk, Walter Lord Ferrers, 
Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon. 

Printed as prose hi Q. 1, perhaps rightly. The Walter 
Lord Ferren here mentioned was Sir Walter Devereux, 


ACT V. Soene 5. 


ACT V. Soon 5l 

one of tlie old family of Devereuz, whose gjandion was 
created the flnt Viscount Hereford. He married Anne, 
sole daughter and heir of William, sixth Lord Ferrers of 
Chartley. He was Sheriff of Herefordshire in 1456; sum- 
moned to Parliament 1461 as Lord Ferrers, and made a 
Knight of the Garter, 1470. An account has already 
been given of the other characters here named. (See 
above, notes 11, 20, 592.) 

Line 15: Inter their bodies at BBCOMU their birth$. 
— Q<1. Ff. have become, altered by Kowe. 

66L Unes 20, 21: 

Smile heaven upon thit/air conjunction. 
That lowj UATR/rown'd upon their enmity t 
The reading of the old copies is "have frown'd," except 
Q. 0. Q. 7, Q. 8. F. 4, which have "hath frown'd." Walker 
would read "heavens . . . have." The Cambridge edd. 
give an anonymous conjecture Smile, heaven; but the 
construction is probably intended to be that of the sub- 
junctive mood. 

Lines 25, 26: 
The father raehly slattghter'd hie own ton, 
Tlie ton, cvtrtpell'd, been butcher to the tire. 
See III. Henry VI. ii. 6. 55-122. 

668. Lines 28^31: 

Divided in their dire divieion, 

• • • • • ■ 

By Ood:t/Mr ordinance COMJOUI together.' 

Qq. Ff. have a full stop at the end of line 28. We hsve. 
like most editors, followed Johnson's proposed ponctss- 

Dyce quotes (note 130) from Drayton's PolyolblOD, Rflh 
Song, p. 76, ed. 1622: 

Whose maziaKes cooloynd the White roM and the Red 

661 Line 85: Abate the EDQE qf traiton, ffraeUnu Lord. 

—Compare I. Heniy IV. i. 1. 17, 18: 

The «t(ir* oi war, like an ill sheathed koife. 
No more shall cut hb mahter. 

666. Line 36 : That vould REDUCE these bleody deft 
agaiiL— Reduce is used in only one other paassge In 
Shake8i>eare in this sense, in Henry V. t. 8. 63: 
Which to reduce into our former favour. 

Compare also IL 2. 68 of this play: 

All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, 

where it seems to mean simply " to bring," the onlj otlwr 
passage in which Shakespeare uses the verb at all 


Note.— The addition of sub. adj. verli, adv. in brackets immediately after a word indicates that the word it 
used as a substantive, ailjective, verb, or adverb, only in the passage or passages cited. 

NuTE. —Tlie compound words marked witli an asterisk ( * ) are printed in Q. 1 and F. 1 as tvo separate wonli. 

Act 8c Line 

AbJL'ct8(fiUb.). i. 1 VM 

Accessary! (adj.) i. 2 191 
Aciiuittancc (verb) iiL 7 233 

A-hljjch Iv. 4 86 

All-C'iiding Ui. 1 78 

AllKcr V. 1 20 

AH-SmuU' day., v. 1 10, 12. IS 

Annoy i v. 3 15<; 

Awoless3 iL 4 52 

IkitUliii* V. 3 11 

BS^Tty- waning UL 7 185 

Bedashed i. 2 103 

Bittaniy ili. 7 IsO 

niiick-facud».. {. 2 150 

Blindly V. 5 24 

Blii'Klsuckers^ UL 3 ti 

1 Lui-ri-ce, 165iJL S "injury. 

^ mm iiinpiriui; no awe. Occurs 
in the sviuu uf "fvarlL'SA," John 
i. 1. :i;c. 4 See note N»<). 

*Vmus and Adonis, 773; Lucreou, 
017. lAlft. 

*(>ix*urj< in the sinffular in 
II. Ilrnry VI. iil.S. »}, wh«ixj it 
urms to mvan **a Tamiiire." 

Act Be. Line 

Bottled? \ }• ? ^: 

( iv. 4 81 

'Breathing- while «L 3 60 

Bunch-backed. ^*- ^ ^^ 

\ iv. 4 81 

Burdenetl (adj.) iv. 4 111 

Butt^SmT iL 2 110 

Cacodemon i. 3 144 

Core-crazed.... iii. 7 184 

Carnal '•• iv. 4 5C 

Chamlier" . . . . UL 1 1 

«Cliildisli-fooUsh L 3 142 

Cock-shut v. 3 CO 

Consistory 11... iL 2 150 

* •-' 1)lllUt4Ml. 

B VuuiM and Adnnis, 114*.'. 

» In tlif seuNe of " Mo<i<Uhirrty.* 
In its nnliiiary scuar it in uaf<| 
in Hamlet, v. S. XK.aud Otlwllu, 
i. 3. %S. 

lu In tlic iieculiar icnfe of 
camerti ngi». 

11 « sulomn afvemhly. Occurs 
in the it|i*H-inl nu«u of the Cnlletcp 
of the Cnnllnuls in Ueuiy VIII. 
ii. 4. 93, 93. 


Act Sc. Line 

Convict" 1. 4 IW 

Copiojj83 iv. 4 135 

CroaUon" iv. 3 10 

Cross-row L 1 55 

Dabbled L 4 54 

Damage (vcrbX iv. 2 58 

Dcad-kilUngi^. iv. 1 36 

*De«p-revolving iv. 2 42 

Definitively.... iU. 7 153 

DeUveryw \ }• ^ '* 

' ( i. 4 253 

Demise 17 iv. 4 248 

Descant" (verb) L 1 27 

Dewyi-" V. 3 283 

Disgracious.... ^^"*• ^ JJ: 

^ — . (iv. 4 178 

Drawbridge... Ui. 5 15 

11 = conviitvtL 13 Venus, K45. 

14 I.e. of I hi* world : and in 
Lucnre, W4. Occurs frct|uently 
in its mnerel ivnse. 

i& Lucrvce M>. 

1* -rvlcasr. l' — ttequeath. 

1& Lncri'ce, 1134; lilKrim. HU. 

19 LucTvce, 1333; Pilvrlm, 71. 

Act ^. LiBf 

DuU-braineU . . iv. i ^ 

Eaves-dropper, v. 8 £1 

luigeless v. & 1S»,1«S 

Egally UL 7 J13 

<£lvish-marked L S !% 

Eugrosssu UL 7 76 

Engrossed"... UL 6 - 

Erruneoua^s... L 4 SOO 

Expiat^JI^.... la S 9 

* Fairest-boding v. S ^ 

FaiUifuls< L 4 < 

'False-boding.. L 3 tC 

*Father-in-hiwt4 v. S !' 

FatUngM L S «< 

Ferryman L 4 ** 

90 - to fatten. 
SI >- copied in fair. 
>2 M. mistaken, misktl. 
» 'expiated; see nt»le »? '^ 
Ter)> occvr^ in tMinn. x&iL ^ 

54 In reliffious SAse. 

55 -m st4*tifather. 

>* Particiiile oMil 


Act 8c. Line 

T. 8 86 

Id T. 8 SOS 

It.)-... UL 2 44 

oed.... Ui. 7 281 

T7_-M ( L 8 814 

olkB.... i. 1 06 

)-ileepiiig i. 8 288 

iai8«d.. L 1 

r. ▼. 8 140 

tel-kind {▼. 4 ITS 

orrowing ii. 2 112 

Temed. L 2 67 

«, i. 4 03 

lachlng. iY. 2 81 

^nd.. V. 8 242 

rolD.... it 2 117 

» ir. 4 626 

-hearted iv. 4 485 

1* t 2 24 

Id lii. 1 176 

pening. iv. 1 53 

re» It. 1 50 

te iv. 4 128 

• (adj.). Ui. 4 8 

tied.... iv. 2 28 

IdT L 2 5 

dj.) U. 1 00 

i. 1 33 

M>t iv. 4 440 

» ilL 1 04 

rj-hfoit. i. 4. 161, 277 
V. 8 345 


thit. Occari(« near the 
LbTc't Labour's Lost, 
md ir. 1. 9. 9()tx mil. 
1 of hope. Occtira alto 
I and Adonis. I>edic 8. 
ioring. cndrdfoK. 
• MOM of "familiar." 
M0| 1774. 

M mam of '* late;" oied 
, L S. 6 with prep, c/ 
L V-oiuaally. 

Act 8c. Line 

Mid (nib.) v. 8 77 

*Mortal-ttariiig t. 8 00 

*New-appearingio iv. 4 10 

*New^$hriBtened L 1 60 

Night-walking. L 1 72 

NominaUoni^.. UL 4 6 

Nonage a 8 18 

Obaeqaioosly.. 1. 2 8 

O'ercloyed v. 8 818 

O'erpastis iv. 4888.806 

OpprobHously . iiL 1 153 

Outgrown iiL 1 104 

Out-thTnTng... i. 8 268 

Over-go" iL 2 61 

Parcelled H.... Ii. 2 81 

Passionate i< .. L 4 121 

Pew-fellow iv. 4 68 

Pleasing (sub.). i. 1 13 

Prodigality.... L 2 242 

Punched v. 8 125 

PurBuivant-at-armsi< v. 8 50 

R«e.Tjterb)..j«'; ] » 

*Ra8h-levied . . iv. S 50 

Reconiforture.. iv. 4 425 

Recorder".... Ui. 7 80 

Recure»(verb) UL 7 130 

Redeemer iL 1 4,128 

Reduce^ U. 2 68 

10 Bonnet Tit. S. 

11 . the act of appointing. 

i^OwiTNisssd oocnn in I. Henxy 
VI. il. 6. 117. 

» Bee Tol. L p. 70, foot-note 17; 
Bonn. dii. 7. 

u In the sense of ** particular;'' 
the verb occurs in Ant. and Cleo. 
T. 2. les. 

1* — compasdonateb Bee Note 

1* PvrnrivinU occun in II. 
Ilenrj VL and thrse other pas- 

1' Bee note an. 

IS A dTic oflker. 

I'Venus and Adenia, 465; Bonn. 
xIt. ». 

s> —to bring, to oooTey. 

A«t Be. Line 

Rewarder. L 8 124 

RoyaUae. L 8 126 

Safe-condactlng iv. 4 481 

Sapling" UL 4 71 

Scaffold^ iv. 4 248 

Self-misused .. iv. 4 874 

Seniory iv. 4 86 

*SenseleMK>batinate Ui. 1 44 

*Servant-maid . L 8 107 

Shallow-changing iv. 4 481 

Sharp-pointed. L 2 174 

Sluggard (sub.) v. 3 225 

Spicery iv. 4 424 

Sprini^u.... L 4 227 

StalledS4 i. 8 206 

Stone-hard iv. 4 228 

Stragglers v. 3 327 

StralUy L 1 86 

riil 2 5 

8'~"'*"- ]l:: I nl 

I v. 3 286 

*Strong-framed i. 4 154 

Succeeders....^*^- * ^^ 

( V. 5 30 

S«cc»drely...{;;[- ] J' 

Sunrising v. 3 61 

Tear-falUng ... iv. 2 64 

Thraldom L 4 255 

Timorously.... UL 6 67 

Towards M iU. 6 101 

Traditional.... UL 1 46 

Trough V. 2 

Tme-derived . . UL 7 200 

Trae-disposing iv. 4 55 

Unadvisedly .. iv. 4 202 

St Vmdi flguratlTely in Titus, 
Ui. S. B<). and Periclos, ir. t. St. 

B For executions. Used— **a 
stage" in Henry V. Prologne i. 10. 

tt— faithfuL Bee note 901. 

94«.inTest«NL The vert) is used 
In other senses. 

» Of a dock. 

« —about; used of the time of 

Act So. Line 
TnavoidedST .. iv. i 66 

Unbl own. iv. 4 10 

Uncharitably.. L 8 275 

Unexamined . . Ui. 6 

Unfashionable M (adv.)i. 1 22 

Unlocked s>.... L 8 214 

Unmindful.... iv. 4 444 

Uumoaned ii. 2 64 

Unpoasesaed . . iv. 4 460 

Unresolved.... iv. 4 436 

Unrippedst.... L 4 212 

Unswayed*?... iv. 4 468 

Untouched".. Ui. 7 10 

Untroubled.... v. 8 140 

Unvalued".... L 4 27 

Unwept U. 2 06 

Victoress iv. 4 836 

Victorious"... L 1 6 

"Waiting-vassals U. 1 121 

Wash" (sub.)., v. 2 

Wedges" L 4 26 

•Weedetftut.. L 3 128 

Welcom^.... iv. 1 00 

Well-learned.. UL 6 100 

Widow-dolour. U. 2 66 

Winged" v. 8 300 

Woe- wearied . . iv. 4 18 

Worshipful".. iU. 4 41 

* Wrong-incensed U. 1 61 


27 = not aroided. Occurs In the 
sense of " inevitable " iu this play. 
It. 4. 31fl; Rich. II. ii. 1. 268; I. 
Henry VI. iv. 8. a 

S8 The adj. is uerer used by 

»Used bi'fore a iiubst. UniooMr 
for occun iu acvend places. 

30 Bonn. cxli. 11. 

SI » uiHin. Iu the sense of " un- 
injured* in Jul. ('(osar, iii. 1. 142. 

>3»iiiTaluahle. Occun in Ham- 
let, i. 3. 19— not valued. 

U —emblematic of oonqueat. 
In ordinaiysense frequentlyused. 

" — food for hofts. 

" Of gold. Perhaps « ingots, 
i.«. large pieces; used in Its ordi- 
nary sense in Troilus and Cles- 
sida. i. 9. S16. 

" In military sense. 

(7 Used adverbially. 


1. 06 : And that the queen' t Kisv are made gentle- 

2. 101: 

Didst thcu not kOl thit kingi 
OIo. I DID, J grant ye, 


So do I ever: [Aside] being aeU advit'd; 
For had J cure'd now, J had cur»'d myte^. 


366. UL 8. 17 : Then eurt'd she Richard TOO ; then eurt'd 

$he Buekingham. 
600. iv. 6. 7 : Say that the queen hath heartily contented. 
616. V. 8. 180: Thee in thy sleep doth eoin/ort: live and 

662. V. 8. 844 : Off with his son's head I 
667. T. 6. 0: But tell me is THE young Oeorge Stanley 





IBl. L4.8S. 00: 


IBT. L4 111-114: 

So, not to km him, hating mrnnifor'l; 
But fu ie OarnH'd fur kiUing him, from wJUCk 
No warrant am iff tad mt. 

ii.-CKdiiv iig« han HEsrill. 

SIK. \\\ 1-iroiad.aiat t might IK 

y<woUi»(. SoWillur. 
SOT. \\\. \. i9: I have teat aoyti <JSX /'• 
eiT. T. S.143; Let fall thy lauti; KESr 






Kino John. 

Prince Henrt, his son, afterwards King Henry III. 

Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, son to King John's elder brother, Greoffrej, 
late Duke of Bretagne. 

Earl of Pembroke (William Marshall). 

Earl of Essex (Geoffrey Fitz-Peter), Chief Justiciary of England. 

Earl of Salisbury (William Longsword). 

lioGER Bigot, Earl of Norfolk. 

IIuBERT DE BuROii, Cliamberlaiu to the King. 

Robert Faulconbridge, son to the late Sir Robert Faulconbridge. 

Philip Faulconbridge (his half-brother), called the Bastai-d, a natural 
son of King Richard Cceur-de-Lion. 

James Gurney, servant to Lady Faulconbridge. 

Peter or Pomfret, a prophet. 

Philip, King of France. 

Lewis, the Dauphin, his son. 

LiTMOOES, Archduke of Austria. 

Cardinal Pandulph, the Pope's Legate. 

AIelun ) 

* ' > Ambassadors from France to King John. 
Chatillon, ) ° 

Queen Elinor, widow to Henry II., and mother to King John. 

Constance, widow of Geoffrey, Duke of Bretagne, and mother to Arthur. 

Blanch, daughter of Alphonsus, King of Castile, and niece to King John. 

Lady Faulconbridge, mother to Philip, the Bastard, and Robert Faulcon- 

Loixls, Ladies, Citizens of Angiers, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, 

and otlier Attendants. 

Scene — Sometimes in England and sometimes in France. 

HISTORIC PERIOD : 1199-1216, extending over the whole of tlie reign of King John. 

According to Daniel, seven days, which he apportions as follows : 

Day 1: Act I. Sceno 1.— Interval. 

Day 2: Act II. Sccno 1; Act III. Scenes 

1, 2, 3.— Interval. 
Day 3: Act III. Scene 4. — Interval. 


Day 4: Act IV. Scenes 1, 2, 3.— lutcnral. 
Day 5: Act V. Sccno 1.— Interval. 
Day C: Act V. Scenes 2, 3, 4, 5.— Interval. 
Day 7: Act V. Scenes 6, 7. 




This play was first printed in the Folio of 
1 623. No Quarto edition is extant, nor is there 
any trace of the existence of any separate 
e<lition during the seventeenth century. It is 
the only undoubted play of Shakespeare's not 
entered on the Register of Stationers' HalL 
The chief source to which Shakespeare was 
indebted for his materials seems to have been 
an old play on the same subject, in two parts, 
the title-page being as follows: 

The I Troublesome Eaigne | of John King 
of England, with the dis- | coiterie of King 
Richard Cordelions { Base * sonne (vulgarly 
named, The Ba- | stard Fawcon bridge): also 
the death of King John at SvnnMead \ Abbey. 
I A$ it was {sundry times) pvhlikely acted by 
the \ Qtieenes Maiesties Players, in the ho- \ 
nourable Citie of \ London. | Imprinted at 
Loudon for Sampson Clarke, \ and are to be 
solde at his shop, on the bade- \ side of the 
Royall Exchange. | 1591. | 

This play was reprinted in 1611 for another 

bookseller, who " inserted the letters W, Sh. in 

the title-page; and in order to conceal his 

fraud, omitted the woTda—publikely—in the 

honouralfle CiUie of London, which he was 

aware would proclaim this play not to be 

Shakespeare's King John; the company to 

which he belonged, having no publick theatre 

in London: that in Blackfriars being a private 

playhouse; and the Globe, which was a publick 

theatre, being situated in Southwark." . . . 

** Shakespeare's play being then probably often 

acted, and the other wholly laid aside, the word 

iaiely was substituted for the word pMickely: 

— as they were sundry times lately acted," &c. 

^' Thomas Dewe, for whom a third edition of 

this old play was printed in 1622, was more 

Uaring. The two parts were then published. 

*as they were sundry times lately acted;' and 
the name of William Shakspeare inserted at 
length" (Var. Ed. vol. iL Prolegomena, p. 
352). The Second Part has, according to the 
reprint in Hazlitt's Shakespeare's Library (voL 
i. pt ii. p. 281) the following title-page: 

The I Second jjart of the | troublesome 
Raigne of King | John, conieining the death \ 
of Arthur Plantiiginet, | the landing of Lewes, 
and I the jx>y8oning of King | John at Swin- 
stead I Abbey As it was (sundry times) puhlilely 
a/:ted by tfie \ (/iieenes Maiesties Players, in the 
ho- I nourahle Citie of \ London. 

To Hall, or to Holinshed, or to any other 
known source Shakespeare does not seem to 
have been much indebted. He has not followed 
the old play veiy closely; and has immensely 
improved on it in every respect. Except that 
Meres mentions King John in the oft-quoted 
|)a88age from Palladis Tamia, there is no direct 
evidence as to the date of its production. Vari- 
ous opinions have been given by different edi- 
tors on tliis point; but we cannot be far wrong 
in assigning it to some time between the years 
1595 and 1597. As regards indirect evidence 
of the date when King John was written 
Malone suggests that the **pathetick lamen- 
tations " of Constance on the death of Arthur 
may have been inspired by the loss of Shake- 
speare's son Hamnet, who died at the age of 
twelve in August, 1596. In that same year, 
in the month of June, the grand fleet sailed 
which was sent against Spain, and to this 
event Malone thinks the lines ii. 1. 67-75 
refer; particular attention being drawn to 
lines 69, 70: 

Have sold thoir fortunes at their native homes, 
Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs. 

" Many of our old historians speak of the 
splendour and magnificence displayed by the 



noble and gallant adventurers who served in 
this expedition; and Ben Jonson has par- 
ticularly alluded to it in his Silent Woman, 
written a few years afterwards" (IVIalone, 
ut supra, pp. 354, 355). Fleay believes that 
the first 200 lines of act ii. scene 1 w^ere in- 
serted hurriedly, after the rest of the play had 
been written, and after the death of Shake- 
speare's son. 

Of other indirect guides to its date, furnished 
by the text of the play itself, it may be noticed 
that a paE»age from act i. of the Spanish Tra- 
gedy or the Second Part of leronimo, as it is 
generally called, — a play wliich was licensed 
in October, 1592, and probably had been repre- 
sented on the stage some two years before that 
date — seems to have been partly reproduced 
in the following speech of the BusUird, ii. 1. 
137, 138 : 

You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, 
Whoso valour plucks dead lions by the board. 

In the Spanish Tragedy the passage runs: 

He hunted well, that was a lion's death; 
Not ho that in a garment wore hi» skin: 
So hares may pull dead lions by the heard. 

— Dodsley, vol. v. p. 19. 

Tlie resemblance can scarcely be accidental. 
AgJiin, Soliman and Perseda (entered at Sta- 
tioners* Hall, 1592) is clearly alluded to (see 
note 59). 

Chalmers, with whom Drake agrees, gives 
the your 1598 as the date of this play, chiefly 
on account of supposed references to two 
events in the year 1597, namely, the offers 
made by the poj>e'8 nuncio to Henry IV. of 
France against Queen Elizabeth, and the siege 
of Amiens, which they conceive to be referred 
to in the siege of Angiers in this play. But 
the evidence, on the whole, is decidedly in 
favour of the earlier date; and the allusion in 
iil 4. 1-3: 

So, by a roaring tempest on the flood, 

A whole armado of convicted sail 

Is scattered and disjoin'd from fellowship, 

which seems pointedly directed at the Spanish 
Armada, may conflrm us in placing tlie date of 
the production of King John ne.arer tliat event 
tlian the later date assigned to it by Chalmers. 



It is a curious fact that from the time (A 
Shakespeare to the year 1737 there is abso- 
lutely no record of the performance of this 
play, which, one would have thought, would 
have been very popular on the stage. In the 
reigns of Charles II. and James II., even had 
Shakespeare been more popular than he was, 
one can well imagine that the anti-])a])al tone 
of many of the si>eeches woultl have pi^ vented 
its finding much favour in court circles ; but 
we should certainly have expect^tl to find it 
revived soon after the Revolution of 1688. 
Even m Shakespeare's own time, to which its 
sentiments seem so admirsibly fitted, scarcely 
any allusion to King John has been discovered. 
No |)assage is quoted from it in England's 
Parnassus (1600); while, to come to later times, 
neither Pepys nor Downes even mentions it 
On 26th February, 1737, Shakesixjare's King 
John was produceil, under Rich's management, 
at Covent Ganlen. Of this production Davies 
in hia Dnimatic Miscellanies (vol. i. i)p. 4-9) 
gives an interesting account There is no 
doubt that to Colley Gibbers mangled and 
distoi-ted version of this play, which he called 
Pajxil Tyranny, we owe this revival of one of 
Shakes|3eare's plays which had hiin so long 
neglected. Acconiing to Davius, Ciblwr hid 
offered Papid Tyranny to Fleetwood, tlie 
manager of Drury Lane, alx>ut nine or ten 
years before it was acted ; that is to sat, a 
little before this time, about 17345. Tlie jiiti 
were distributed, and "a time tixe<l for iU 
performance: but the clamour against the 
author, whose presumption was highly cen- 
sured for daring to meddle with Shakspetze, 
increased to such a height, that Colley Cibbtfi 
who had smarted more than once for dabbling 
in tragedy, went to the playhouse, and, without 
saying a word to anybody, took the play from 
the prompter's desk, and marched oflf ^ith it 
in his pocket" (Dramatic Miscellanies, vol 
i. p. ft). To this Pope alludes in the Dunciad 
(book i.) : 

** King John in silence modestly expires.** 

The critics having said much in praise d 
Shakesi)earc's play, while writing again^ 


Gibber, Rich took the hint, and resolved to 
revive King John. The revival would seem 
to have been a success. According to Davies 
King John was acted several nights with 
great applause. From Genest it would appear 
to have been played at least ten times. The 
cast included Delane as King John ; Walker, 
the original Macheath, as the Bastard ; Hull 
as the King of France; Ryan as Pandulph; 
and Mrs. Hallam as Lady Constance. Davies 
(p. 8) tells us that the latter ^^ was unhappy 
in a large unwieldy person;'' but that "her 
performance of Lady Constance was natural 
and impassioned; though she was not so 
pathetic in utterance, spirited in action, or 
dignified in deportment, as Mrs. Cibber in the 
same part" (p. 9). Delane does not appear 
to have been successful in the part of the 
king; but of Walker, Davies speaks very 
highly indeed. According to him " Garrick, 
Sheridan, Delane, and Barry all fall short of 
the merit of Tom Walker." 

This play was revived with nearly the same 
cast on 2nd February, 1738. During this season, 
in the course of which both parts of Henry 
IV., Henry V., and the First Part of Henry 
VI. were all revived. King John seems to 
have been only played twice. On 15th Feb- 
ruary, 1745, '* Papal Tyranny in the Reign of 
King John ' was produced for the first time. 
This was Colley Gibber's manglement — if I 
mav be allowed to coin a word — alluded to 
above. The threatened invasion of England 
by the Pretender overcame all Gibber's fears 
and scruples ; and this grand tragedy, in which 
he condescended to show Shakespeare how a 
play ought to be written, and in which Lord 
Foppington gravely rebuked the author of 
King John for his lukewarmness in denounc- 
ing the pope and all his works, was produced 
— I regret to say — with a success scarcely ade- 
:]uate to its very great merits. The great 
mangier himself, though now toothless and 
icarce able to mumble out his words, returned 
to the stage to play PandulpL It was not, 
by all accounts, a very great performance ; but 
the audience treated the old actor with con- 
liderable indulgence. They were not so mer- 
aful, however, to CoUey Gibber's son, Theo- 
philufl, who played the Dauphin, and to the 

well-known George Anne Bellamy, who played 
Blanch. These artists had unfortunately 
availed themselves of Gibber's tuition; and, 
putting his precepts into practice, adopted 
" the good old manner of singing and quaver- 
ing out their tragic notes" (Genest, voL iv. p. 
162). It is not worth while entering into a 
detailed examination of this impertinence of 
the poet laureate. His well-known version 
of Richard III. was modest and reverent work 
compared to this. He seems to have spared 
not even the very best scenes in Shakespeare's 
play; and to have defiled what jewels he did 
preserve from the original with the slaver of 
his own trashy mouthings. It does not reflect 
much credit on the taste of the Govent Garden 
audiences of that period, that the gambols of 
this literary monkey on the tomb of our great 
poet were rewarded by a net profit of £400, 
and that the performance was sufficiently 
popular to be repeated ten times. 

On the same day as that on which Papal 
Tyranny was produced, an advertisement from 
"the Proprietor" of Drury Lane appeared in 
the General Advertiser : " to state that he had 
been requested to revive King John, and had 
accordingly put it into Rehearsal — that the 
author of a play on the sfime subject having 
insinuated that this was calculated to prejudice 
him, he had put oflf the revival ; but on finding 
from the bills that Papal Tyranny was not an 
alteration of King John, but a new Tragedy 
on the same plan, he would exhibit Sliak- 
speare's play on the following Tuesday — the 
day after the benefit for the author of Papal 
Tyranny — when there could be no imputation 
of an injury done to him" (Genest, voL iv. 
p. 146). The play was accordingly produced on 
20th February ( 1 745), at Drury Lane, with Gar- 
rick as King John, for the first time, Delane 
as the Bastard, and Berry as Hubert King 
John was not one of Garrick's most successful 
characters, though he had some very fine 
moments in it, especially in the scene with 
Hubert in act iv. : " When Hubert showed 
him his warrant for the death of Arthur, saying 
to him, at the same time : 

Here b your hand and seal for what I did, 

Garrick snatched the warrant from his hand; 



and, grasping it hard, in an agony of despair 
and horror, he threw his eyes to heaven, as if 
self-convicted of murder, and standing before 
the great Judge of the quick and dead to 
answer for the infringement of the divine 
command " (Davies, voL i. pp. 69, 70). Mrs. 
Gibber was very great as Constance ; in fact 
it may be doubted whether any of the subse- 
quent representatives of the part ever ec^ualled 
her, not excepting Mrs. Siddons. This revival 
appears to have been a very successful one. 

On 23d January, 1754, King John was 
again revived at Drury Lane, when Garrick 
surrendered the part of King John to Mossop; 
he himself taking the part of the Bastard. 
In this character he appears to have been a 
totiil failure, in spite of the fact that he had 
secured, as a contrast to himself in Robert 
Faulconbridge, one Simpson, whom Davies (p. 
15) describes as: "a Scotchman, a modest and 
honest man, but as feeble in person as he was 
in acting." 

In 1746, Garrick, in conjunction with Sheri- 
dan, at the Smock Alley Thefitre, Dublin, pro- 
duced King John — the two great actora play- 
ing King John and the Bastard alternately. 
It was on the occasion of the first night of 
King John, at Dublin, that the pretty but 
spiteful George Anne Bellamy set on foot an 
intrigue against Garrick; the result being 
that the great actor had to play to a very thin 
house on this occasion. An account of this 
amusing incident may be found in Percy 
Fitzgerald*s Life of David Garrick, vol. i. pp. 
106, 107. On the second night, when Garrick 
played the Bastard, Miss Bellamy was allowed 
to play Constance; and there was a crowded 
house. This alliance of Sheridan and Garrick 
was renewed later when at Drury Lane, on 
17th December, 1760, the Irish and English 
actors again appeared in King John; Garrick 
taking the Bastard for himself, and giving his 
rival the part of King John. Sheridan was so 
very successful, and received such compliments 
from his majesty George III., who was present 
at the performance, that Garrick is said to 
have been very much vexed, and to have 
stopped the run of the piece. On this occa- 
sion Mrs. Yates played Constance. There is 
no doubt that Garrick's jealousy has been 


much exaggerated by Davies; since, as pointed 
out by Fitzgerald, the two rivals appeared, 
amicably enough, in King John, for the bene- 
fit of Mrs. Yates on the 2nd April of the same 

The next notable performance of this plaj 
was on 10th December, 1783, at Drury line, 
when Kemble played King John, and Mrs. 
Siddons appeared for the first time as Con- 
stance, which proved to be one of her most 
successful parts. The play was revived again 
on 20th November, 1800, when Kemble again 
played King John, Charles Kemble, Faulcon- 
bridge, and Mrs. Powell, Constance. On 13th 
May, in the following year, for Charles Kem- 
ble's benefit, who appeared as King John, 
Mrs. Siddons resumed the part of Constance. 
On 14th February, 1804, at Covent Garden, the 
three great members of the Kemble family 
appeared together; John Kemble as the king, 
Charles Kemble as Faulconbridge, and Mrs. 
Siddons as Constance. On 3d December, 1816, 
Miss O'Neill appeared for the fii-st time as 
Constance. She must have looked rather 
young for the part. 

On Ist June, 1818, at Drury Lane, Kean 
appeared as King John. He appears to have 
been very great in the scenes with Hubert 

It only remains to mention that the plaj 
was not neglected amongst the revivab of 
Shakespearean performances given by Phelps 
at Sadlers Wells; and that it was produced, 
with great splendour and that careful atten- 
tion to historic details which characterized all 
his Shakespearean performances, by Charles 
Kean, on 18th October, 1858, at the Princess's 

The play has been very rarely represented 
of late; Mr. Creswick being the only actor d 
any importance living, as far as I know, who 
has appeared in the character of King John. 


This play, which, if the historical sequence 
is followed, should go before Richard IL, 
seems to me, on the whole, to be clearly a 
later work of Shakespeare's than that tragedy. 
It certainly displays a far greater mastery of 
dramatic characterization than Richard IL- 


it has fewer rhymed lines; according to Mr. 
Fleay out of 2553 lines it contains 2403 in 
blank verse. Like Richard II. it has no 
passages written in prose: it has not even 
any passage like that in Richard II. (iL 2. 
108-120), which, though printed as verse, is 
so unrhythmical as to read like prose. There 
are very few double endings. Whether this 
play was written before or after Richard IIL 
is doubtful; most editors consider the latter 
to be the earlier play. Setting aside, however, 
the exact position which King John should 
occupy among Shakespeare's plays as strictly 
arranged according to the order of their pro- 
duction, we may fairly consider it as belonging 
to that period of his literary development in 
which we have placed it As a drama, it ex- 
hibits a marked superiority to any of the other 
historical plays except Parts I. and II. of Henry 
IV., Richard III., and, perhaps, Henry V. 
It contains thrc^e characters which will live as 
long as any of Shakespeare's creations; namely, 
the Bastard Faulconbridge, Constance, and 
Arthur; while it certainly contains one scene, 
that between Hubert and Arthur (act iv. 
scene 1), which is among the most popular 
and most admired of any in Shakespeare's 
plays; yet, in spite of its admirable character- 
ization, its many pathetic and vigorous scenes, 
and in spite of its containing two parts, those 
of the Bastard and Constance, most effective 
for an actor and actress respectively, it does 
not seem to have been a popular play in 
Shakespeare's own time; and, as will be seen 
from the stage history of the play, was left for 
a very long period altogether neglected and 
practically excluded from the repertory of our 
theatre& This is the more to be wondered at, 
because there is a sturdy Protestant spirit in 
the play, and an heroic strain of patriotism 
which, one would have thought, could not fail 
to secure for a very much worse play undying 
popularity with an £nglish audience. It is 
true that Shakespeare, following his large- 
hearted and trulyartistic instincts, has modified 
considerably the bitter anti-papal tone of the 
old play on which he founded King John; but 
he seems, at the same time, to have given to 
the political aspect of the play a much closer 
application to Elizabethan times than is to be 

found in "The Troublesome Raigne." In fact, as 
Mr. Simpson has pointed out (see New Shak- 
spere Society's Transactions, 1874, pt. iL pp. 
397-406), in his paper on the Politics of Shake- 
speare's Plays, Shakespeare altered the whole 
political motive of the old play; and made the 
quarrel between John and his subjects turn 
more upon the question of his defective title ta 
the throne than, as it did really, on his own 
abominable character ; but here Shakespeare's 
inherent honesty of mind stood him in bad stead ; 
for, however much he might change the political 
motive of the play, he could not bring himself 
to represent John as anything but a mean and 
detestiible tyrant. All the king's blusteragainst 
the pope goes for very little when we find him, a 
short time afterwards, handing over his crown 
to the pope's legate, and consenting to receive 
it agiiin at his hands as if from a suzerain. 
In fact John is ready to submit to any degra- 
dation, in order to obtain a powerful ally 
against his rebellious barons; and though some 
of those barons stoop so low as to intrigue with 
the enemy of their country, and to fight under 
the standard of France against their sovereign, 
yet John's crimes have so alienated our sym- 
pathies from him that we shut our eyes to the 
dishonourable treason of Salisbury and his 
accomplices, and readily forgive them, when 
they abjure their treason and swear allegiance 
to the young Prince Henry. There is no 
doubt that in the unsympathetic character of 
John lies the weakness of this play. Con- 
stance and Arthur both fade out of it some 
time before the end is reached; and though 
the Bastard still remains to represent unflinch- 
ing courage and loyalty, the chief character, 
the king himself, who ought to be the object 
of our interest and sympathy, has faileil to 
enlist either one or the other on his behalf ; 
and so the play terminates without that effec- 
tive climax, which is essential to the success 
of a drama intended to be acted as well as 

The character of Constance has always been 
a very favourite one with the readers of 
Shakespeare; if it proves less attractive on 
the stage, it is only because her sliare in the 
action ceases at compamtively so early a period 
of the play. Mrs. Jameson in her "Cliaracter- 



istics of Women " has a very interesting essay 
on the character of Constance, an essay which 
exhibits considerable power of moral analysis. 
Mrs. Jameson is quite right in repudiating the 
theory that the leading motive of Constance's 
conduct is ambition. On the contrary, she 
seems, as far as Shakespeare has drawn her^ 
singularly devoid of any pei'sonal seeking after 
power such as Elinor would attribute to her. 
Her nature is evidently impulsive and passion- 
ate; above all she is animated by that keen 
sense of injustice which is so very commonly 
found in such natures. She is vehement in 
the assertion of her son's rights, not so much 
from any ambition to exercise the jx^wer which 
would naturally l)elorig to her as his mother, but 
simply because she loves and, indeed, idolizes 
him; she feels most keenly that she is the only 
person left to plead for his rights, and to defend 
him from the mean and oveireaching schemes 
of Ids detestable uncle. Her passionate sense 
of the wrong which has been done to her son 
makes her at once eager in expressing her grati- 
tude to King Philip and the Dauphin, as well 
as to Austria, when they oflfer their support 
to Arthur's just claim, and at the same time 
vehemently resentful of their cowardly deser- 
tion of his cause, when their own seliish interest 
points in the other direction. In all her plead- 
ings and her remonstnuices there is the same 
want of self-control, the same almost exagger- 
ated indignation because she cannot, for one 
moment, tolerate the doctrine of expediency 
which so completely governs the conduct of 
those with whom she is associated. In fact 
she is one of those many characters on which 
Shakespeare seems to have lavished his utmost 
power of poetic eloquence, because they repre- 
sent that utter unconventionality, that passion- 
ate rebellion against the accepted morality of 
the world, which must have been one of the 
strongest traits in his own nature. It is only 
a very short-sighted criticism that can find in 
the reticence of Arthur, throughout the only 
two scenes in which Shakespeare has intro- 
duced him in the company of Constance, any 
proof that the son returns but feebly the pas- 
sionate affection of his mother. It is only n^itu- 
ral tliat a boy, such as Shakespeare has repre- 
sented Arthur to be, should feel somewhat timid 


and awed in the presence of such vehement 
indignation as Constance displays; but the fact 
that when he is taken prisoner, the boy's first 
thought is for his mother and not for himself 
(iiL 3. 5), is sufficient to prove that Shake- 
speare did not intend to represent Arthur as 
at all lacking in filial devotion. We may re- 
gret tliat the ]X)et could not reconcile with his 
scheme of the dramatic action of this play, thr 
possibility of giving us a scene between mother 
and son. Such an omission may have been 
the result of hasty execution; or it may have 
been the deliberate judgment of a dramatist 
who, however long his plays may seem to the 
fastidious intolerance of a modem audience, 
yet had a very keen sense of the virtue oi 
dramatic concentration. It would certainly 
seem as if Shakespeare felt himself rather 
ham})ered by the amount of material that he 
had at hand in the construction of this play; 
otlierwise he would not have been content 
with merely intimating through the mouth of 
a messenger (iv. 2. 122) the rumour of the 
death of so important a character as Constance. 
She was a creation, to the ix)wer of which he 
could not have been himself insensible; yet he 
allows her to disap{)ear with the end of the 
third act; and the injury to the play, involved 
in the absence of all female interest in the two 
last acts, is one w^hich no doubt has ]in>T«d 
fatal to its permanent popularity u\M)n the 
stage : it is one of which I cannot help tliiuk- 
ing the poet's maturer judgment would not 
have approved. 

The character of the Bastard is more ebb- 
orated than that of Constance, and seems to 
have engaged more of the authoi-'s energy; 
perhaps too of that fondness which even' poet 
is apt to display, with more or less caprice, 
tow^ards the various beings of his own creation. 
The boldnessof Philip Faulconbridge, his reck- 
lessness, his audacious outspokenness, may 
have been inherited from his father, Bichard 
Coeur-de-Lion; but it is probable that Shake- 
speare emphasized these characteristics as 
natural in a man, the circumstances of whose 
birth placed him in a more or less f.'ibie posi- 
tion, and impelled him to constant .self-asser- 
tion. It woiUd be very interesting to compare 
the character of the Bastard Faulconbridge 


with that of Edmund in King Lear. Both 
suffer from the stigma of illegitimacy; but 
what a ditfereut effect the consciousness of this 
stigma exercises on their respective natures! 
While Edmund is sullen, malicious, and cruel, 
Faulcitnbri<lge is, at the worst, impudent, at 
the best^ fearless. 

One point has been much insisted upon in 
connection with this play, and that is its bear- 
ing upon the cjuestion as to what were Shake- 
speare's reli gious opin ions. Some hii ve deduced 
from the elrMjuent denunciations of (tapd inter- 
ference, which are placed in the mouth of King 
John, the conclusion that he was a strong 
Protestant ; and the extreme opponents of the 
Church of Rome have even claimed him as 
one of their most zealous partisans. On the 
other hand, some Roman Catholics have main- 
tained that hid careful omission of the more 
offen.sive portions of the old play shows that 
he was, at heai-t, one of themselves. 

Tlie pn)b:ibility is that the truth lies be- 
tween these two extremes ; and that Shake- 
speare, while he tlioroughly s>'mpathized witli 
the political aspect of the Reformation, was, in 
DO strict sense of the word, a strong Protestant. 
I have heaixl it maintained with some show 
of prol»ability, and much show of ingenuity, 
that Shakespeare was, in fact, a lax Roman 
Catholic, who did not care to face the political 
and social penalties involved in a strict fidelity 

to what was then a proscribed religion. It 
may be doubted whether, in the case of a poet 
who shows such veiy wide human symjjathies, 
it is a profitable occujiation of one's time to 
argue this question at all. Suffice it to say, 
that the whole world has to be thankful that 
Shakespeare was tt>o large-hearted to identify 
himself with any form of bigotry ; and that, 
writing as he did for all mankind, he was hb 
scrupulous as possible in avoiding the great 
error of giving unnecessary offence to any 
creeil which embraced amongst its believers 
men of large heart as well as of great intellect 
As a true i>oet, loving all that was beautiful 
and good, he could not help sympathizing with 
that religion which had so long represented 
the only fonn of Christianity in the world. 
On the other hand his enthusiastic love for his 
country, which is so often manifested through- 
out his plays, led him to sympathize more or 
less with that resentment of all foreign inter- 
ference in ])olitics which really formed the 
backl.)one, in England at least, of that move- 
ment which is commonly known as the Refor- 
mation. With Puritanism, the great religious 
factor in that movement, Shake8i)eare luid 
positively no sympathy whatever; any more 
than he had with that strict submission to the 
supreme heatl of the Chui*ch, on the piirt of 
Roman Catholics, to which in modern times 
the name of Ultramontanism has been giveiL 



iMi JoHS on hU Throne; QiEKS Elinor, 
Pem^ruke, EtSEX, Salisburv, and oti'i-t. 
B'iniieri !•/ Eaijbimt, Xurmaadi/, and 
Aqfiiti'liie. Enter CiUTiLLds and Atttn- 


(%il. ThuM, aSier gre«ting, H|>eaks tli« King 
of Fraiiix, 
In my behaviour,' to the luajeBty, 
Tlie hurroweU majesty, of Engljuid here. 
EIL A «tnnge beginning: "borrowed ma- 

A'. JoAn. Silence, good mother; hear the 

C/i"l. Philip uf France, in right tmd true 
Of thy defeasei! brother Geffrey'a son, 
Arthur Plantagenet, Uys mtutt lawful claim 

> /■ my irttavimir. i.i. "with tha bebmvloar which 1 

To this fail' inland and the territories, — lo 
To li viand, Poic tiers, Aiijuu, Tuuruine, Maine; 
l>etiii-ing thee to lay aside the itwonl 
Which HwavH uaiii'pingty thexe aeveral titles, 
And put the wimc into yunng Arthur's hand, 
Tliy nephew and right royal sovereign. 

A'. JoAii. What follows, if we disallow of 

C/ifU. The proud control' of tierce and 
bloody war, 
To enforce tliBse rights so forcibly withheld. 
V, J'llin. Here have we war for war, and 
blood for blood, 
Coiitnilnient for controlment : wo answer 
France. so 

ChiU. llien take my king's detiimce from 

Tlie furthest limit of uy embamy. 

A'. John, Bear mine to biui, luid no depart 

Be tliou as light:iing in the eyes of France; 
For ere thou canat rejiort I will be there. 
The thunclLT of uiy cannon shall 1)e heard; 

ACT I. 8oeue 1. 


ACT I. HoeiM 1. 

So hence I Be thou the trumpet of our 

And auUen * presage of your own decay. — 
Au honoura])le conduct"' let him have : — 
Pembi'oke, hK>k to't Farewell, Chatiilon.' 30 
[Exeiint Chatiliony AttewlantSj and 
Eli What now, my sou ! have I not ever 

How that ambitious Constance would not 

Till she had kindled France and all the world. 
Upon the right and jiarty of her son ? 
This might have been prevented, and made 

With very eiusy arguments of love; 
Which now the manage* of two kingdoms 

With fearful bloody issue arbitrate. 

Enter the Sheriff <if Xorthamptonsltirey who 
whiApers to Eas'W. 

K. John. Our strong jK^Hsession, and our 

right, for us. 
Eli [Aside to Kitif/ John] Your strong f)Os- 
session much more than your right; 40 
Or else it must go wrong with you and me: 
So much my conscience whisjiers in your ear, 
Which none but heaven, and you and I, shall 
Essejc. My liege, here is the strangest con- 
( 'ome from the country to be judg'd by you 
That e'er I heard: shall I proiluce the men? 

K. John. Let them approach. — [Ej^it Sheriff. 
Our abbeys and our priories shall pay 
This expedition's charge. 

Ile-cntt'r Sheriff, with Robert Faulconbridge, 
and Philip his bastard brother. 

What men are you ? 

Bast. Your faithful subject I, a gentleman 
Born in Noilhamptonshire, and eldest son, 6i 
As I suppose, to Robert Faulconl)ridge, — 
A soldier, by the honour-giving hand 
Of C-aMir-de-lion knighted in the field. 

A'. John. [To Robert] What art thou? 


Roh. The sou and heir to that same Faul- 
conbridge. r* 
K. John. Is that the elder, and art thou the 
You came not of one mother, then, it seems. 
Bast. Most certain of one mother, mighty 
That is well known ; and, as I think, one fa- 
ther: eo 
But, for the certain knowledge of that truth, 
I put you o'er* to heaven, and to my mother:— 
Of that I doubt, as all men's children may. 
Eli Out on thee, rude man! thou dust 
shame thy mother, 
An<l wound her honour witli this diffidence.'*' 
Bast. I, madam? no, I have no reaaon for it; 
That is my brother's plea, and none of mine; 
The which if he can prove, a''' \K>\m me out 
At least from fair five hundred ])ound a 

Heaven guard my mother's honour — and my 
land ! to 

A". King. A gooil blunt fellow. — Why, being 
younger l)om. 
Doth he lay claim to thine inherifcince? 
Bast. I know not why, except to get the 
But once he sbmder'd me with Ijiistanlv 
But whe'r^ I be as true begot or no; 
That still I lay upon my mother's head, 
But that I am as well l>egot, my liege, — 
Fair fall the bones that took the pains for 

me ! — 
CV)m])iire our faces, and be judge yourself. 
If old Sir Rt)l>ert did beget us both, >* 

And were our father, and this son like hint, - 

old sir Robert, father, on my knee 

1 give heaven tlumks I was not like to thee! 

K. John. Why, what a madcap hath heaven 

lent us here I 
Eli. He hath a trick® of Cajur-de-lio«'> 
Tlie accent of his tongue affecteth'*** him. 
l>o you not re^id some tokens of my son 
In the large com}>ositi(m of this man? 

K. John. Mine eye hath well examineil hi* 

» Sullen, dismRl. •' Conduct, escort. 

3 Chatillon, prououiieed as a quadrisyllable, ChatUimi. 

* Manage, administration. 


* I put you o'er, i.e. I refer you. 
' i4'. an old corruption of he. 

• Trick, peculiarity. 

• IH£Ldenee, suiplci«« 

• »*Aer= whether. 

>o AffeeUth, reMmUrt^ 

ACT I. Soeoe 1. 


ACT I. Scene 1. 

And finds them perfect Kichard. — Sirrah, 

speak, 90 

What doth move you to claim your brother's 


Batt, Because he hath a half-face, like my 


With half that face would he have all my 

A half -fac'd groat five hundred pound a year! 
Rob. My gracious liege, when that my fa- 
ther liv'd. 
Your brother did employ my father much, — 
[ Bast. Well, sir, by this you cannot get my 
Your tale must be, how he emplo/d my 
Rob. ^ And once dispatch'd him in an em- 
To Germany, there with the emperor^ lOO 
To treat of high affairs touching that time. 
Th' advantage of his absence took the king, 
And in the mean time sojoum'd at my fa- 
Q Where how he did prevail, I shame to 

speak, — 
But truth is truth: ^ large lengths of seas and 

Between my father and my mother lay, — 
A.S I have heard my father speak himself, — 
Q When this same lusty gentleman was got ^ 
Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd 
His lands to me, and took it^ on his death, no 
That this, my mother's son, was none of his; 
Q And if he were, he came into the world 
Full fourteen weeks before the course of time.] 
llien, good my liege, let me have what is 

My father's land, as was my father's will. 
A'. John. Sirrah, your brother is legiti- 
mate; — 
Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him; 
And if she did play false, the fault was hers; 
Which fault lies on the hazards of all hus- 
That marry wives, f Tell me, how if my bro- 
ther, 120 
( Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, 

I The empercr, i.e. Henry VL tarnamed Asper, or the 
Sharp. s Took it, protested. 

Had of your father claim'd this son for his] S 

In sooth, good friend, your father might have / 

kept 123 ^.' 

This calf, bred from his cow, from all the; 

world ; 
In sooth, he might: then, if he were my bro- 
ther's, ^ 
My brother might not claim him; nor your' 
father, ' 
Being none of his, refuse him : this concludes, — 
My mother's son did get your father's heir;] 
Your father's heir must have your father's 
Rob. Shall, then, my father's will be of no 
force 130 
To dis^KxsseHs that child which is not his? 
Q Bast. Of no more force to di8pK>88e8s me, 
Than was his will to get me, as I think. ] ;; 
Eli. [To Bustard^ Whether hadst thou ra- 
ther be a Faulconbridge, 
And like thy brother, to enjoy thy Land, 
Or the re])uted son of Coeur-de-lion, 
Lord of thy ])i*esence,^ and no land beside ? 
Bast. Madam, an if my brother had my 
And I had his, sir Robert's his, like him ; 
And if my legs were two such riding-rods, uo 
My amis such eel-skins stuiTd, my face so 

That in mine ear 1 durst not stick a rose. 
Lest men should 8«ay, "Look, where three- 
farthings goes I " 
And, to* his sliape, were heir to all this land, — 
Would I might never stir from off this place, 
I would give it every foot to have this face; 
I would not be sir Nob in any case. 

Eli I like thee well: wilt thou forsake thy 
Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me ? 
I am a soldier, and now bound to France, iso 
Bast. Brother, take you my land, I '11 take 
my chance: 
Your face hath got five hundred ix)und a year; 
Yet sell your face for five pence and 'tis 

dear. — 
Madam, I '11 follow you unto the death. 

3 Presence, personal appearance. 
* To =in addition to. 


ACT i. Scene I. 


ACT I. SoeiM 1. 

Elu Nay, I would have you go before me 

thither. 156 

Ba^, Our country maimerH give our betters 

K, Johiu What is thy name? 
Bast. Pliilip, my liege, — so is my name be- 
Philip, good old sir Robert's wife's eldest sou. 
K, John. From henceforth l)ear his name 
whose form tliou bear'st: 100 

Kneel thou dowoi Philip, but rise up more 

Arise air Eichard and Plantagenet 

BaM. Brother by the mother's side, give me 
your hand : 
My fatlier gave me honour, yours gave land. 
[ Q Now blessed be the hour, by night or day, 
'/ When I was got, sir Robert was away I 
Eli, The very spirit of Plantagenet ! 
) I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so. 

Bast. Madam, by chance but not by truth : ^ 
> what though ?« 

' Something about, a little fixnn the right, iro 
( In at the window, or else o'er the hatch: 
'' Who darefi not stir by day must walk by night; 
/ And have is Iwive, however men do catch: 
' Near or far otf, well won is still well shot; 
And I am I, howe'er I wan begot ] 

K. John, Go, Faulconbridge: now hast thou 
thy desire; 
A landless knight make^ thee a landed 

squire. — 
Come, madam, — and come, Richard; we must 

For France, for France; for it is more than 
Bast. Brother, adieu; good fortune come 
to thee ! I80 

f'Q For thou wast got i' the way of honesty. 
^ [Trumpets. Exeuivt all but Bastard, 

J A foot of honour better than I was ; 
But many a many foot of land the worse. ^ 
Well, now can I make any Joan a lady: — 
'"(Tood den,* sir Richard I" — "God-a-mercy, 

And if his name be George, I'll call him 

1 Tnit-h, honesty. 

3 What thoftghf what does it matter? 

s dvod den, good eveuing. 


For new-made honour doth forget men's 

names, — 
Tis too respective^ and too sociable 
For your conversion.* Now your traveller, — 
He and his toothpick at my worship's mess; 
And when my knightly stomach is sufficed,' i9i 
Why then I suck my teeth, and catediize 
My picked^ man of countries : "My dear sir," — 
Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin, — 
" I shall beseech you" — that is question now; 
And then comes answer like an Abeey* book :— 
" O sir," says answer, "at your best command; 
At your employment; at your service, sir;** 
"No sir," says question, "I, sweet sir, at 



And so, ere answer knows what question 
would, — too 

Saving in dialogue of compliment, 
And talking of the Alps and Apennines, 
The Pyrenean* and the river Po, — 
It draws toward supper in conclusion sa 
But this is worshipful society, 
And lits the mounting spirit like myself; 
For he is but a bastard to the time, 
That doth not smack of olwervation ; — 
And so am I, whether I smack or no; 
C And not alone in habit and device, 210 

Exterior form, outward accoutrement, 
But from the inward motion'® to deliver '. 
Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth: 
Which," though I will not practise to deceive, 
Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn; 
For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising. J— 
But who comes in such haste in riding robes? 
[What woman-post is this? hath she no hus- 
That will take pains to blow a horn before 
her?] ■ 

Enter Lady Faulcon bridge and James 


O me! it is my mother. — How now, good 
lady! co 

What brings yon here to court so hastily? 

4 lietpeetive, considerate. 

* Couvertfion, change of condition or station 

« Sufie'd, aatisfled. 

' Picked, reflne«l. • Ahgey, if. A. B. C. 

» The Pyrenean, i.e. the Pyrenees. 

>* Motimi, impulse. 

>' Which, i.§. *'to deliver sweet poiiuin." 


Zdf^ F. Where is tb&t tUre, tiiy brother? 
where is he, s» 

That holds ia chase mine honour up sod 
B»uL Mj brother Bobert) old sir Bobert's 
Colbrand the giaDt, that same mightj' maat 
Is it air Bobert's son that jmi seek sol 

Laify F. Sir Robert's son ! Ay, tbuu un- 
reverend ' boy, 
He is sir Robert's son, and so art thou. 
Batt. James Gumey, wilt thou give us leare 
awhile )' 2m 

Our, Qood leave, good Philip. 
Batt. I^iilip 1 — spamiw I — Jamea, 

lliere 'a toys' abroad : anon I 'U tell thee more. 
[Exit Ovmty. 
Madam, I was not old sir Robert's son; 
}[ Sir Robert might have eat his port in me 
^Upon Qood-Friday, and ne'er broke his fast: 
I Sir Robert could do well: marry, to confess,* 
f Could be get met Sir Robert could not do it: 
I We know bis handiwork : therefore, good 
'{ mother, 

'<To whom am I bdioldiug' for theae limbs) 
''Sir Robert never hoip to make this leg.^ mo 
Lady F. Haat thou conspired with thy bro- 
ther t«o. 
That for thine own gain shouldat defend mine 

honour } 
What means this eoom, thou most untoward* 

Batt. Knight, knight, good mother, — Basil- 

What : I am dubb'd : — I have it on my ahoul- 

But, mother, I am not sir Robert's son; 
1 have disclaim'd sir Robert, and my land; 
Legitimation, name, and all ia gone: 
Then, good my mother, let me know my fa- 
Some proper man, I hope ; who was it, mother? 
Ladg F. Hast thoa denied thyself a Faul- 
conbridge? m 

Batt. As faithfuUy as I deny the devjL 

• Vtilaeari, untciitl 

Lady F. King Richard Oceur-d«-lion was 

thy father: m 

[ By long and Tehement suit I was seduc'd ) 

To make rocsn for him in my husband's bed: 3 

Heaven lay not my tranc^cressirai to my 

tThou art the issue of mj dear' offence. 
Which was ao strongly urg'd, past my defence.^ 
Bait, t Now, by this Ught, were I to get 
Madam, I would not wish a better father. »i 
Some sins do bear their privilege on earth. 
And sodotbyonn; your fault was notyourfolly : 
Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose,' 

ACT I. Scene I 


ACT II. 8eeiie 1. 

Subjected tribute to commanding love, 264 
Against whose fury and unmatched force 
The aweless^ lion could not wage the fight, 
Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's 

He that perforce robs lions of their hearts 
May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother, 
With all my heart I thank thee for my fa- 
ther I 270 

[| Who lives and dares but say thou didst not' 
well 271 

When I was got, 111 send his soul to hell. 
Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin;* 
And they shall say, when Richard me' 
If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin; 
Who says it was, he lies; I say t was not 2 


ACT 11. 

Scene I. Fraiice. Before the loalU of Angiers. 

Enter the Archduke of Austria and Forces^ 
drMmSf<tc.f on one side: on the oMcr Philip, 
King of Francey and Forces; Lewis, 
Arthur, Constance, and Attendants. 
Banners of Fran4:e, Bretagne, Austria ^ a fid 
the Oriflamme. 

K. Phi. Before Angiers well met, brave 
Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood, 
Richard, that robb'd tlie lion of his heart, 
And fought the holy wars in Palestine, 
By this brave duke came early to his grave: 
And for amends to his posterity. 
At our importance' hither is he come, 
To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf ; 
And to rebuke the usurpation 
Of thy unnatural uncle, £nglish John: lO 

Embrace him, love him, give him welcome 

Arth. Gotl shall forgive you Coeur-de- lion's 
The rather that you give his offspring life, 
Shjidowing their right under your wings of 

I give you welcome with a powerless hand. 
But with a heart full of unstained love: 
Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke. 

K. Phi. A noble boy ! Who would not do 
thee right? 

A ust. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss. 
As seal to this indenture of my love; — 20 

1 Awfleu, fearless. 

> My kin, i.e. the King and Queen Dowager. 

s Impcrtance, importunity. 


That to my home I will no more return. 
Till Angiers, and the right thou hajst in France, 
Together with that pale, that white-fac'd shore. 
Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring 

And coops from other lands her islanders, — 
Even till that England, hedg'd in with the 

[|That water-walled bulwark, still aecim 
And confident from foreign purposes, — 
Even till that utmost comer of the west 3 
Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy« » 
Will I not think of home, but follow aims. 
Co7ist. O, take his mothers thanks, a widow's 

Till your strong hand shall help to give him 

To make a more* requital to your love I 
Au^. The peace of heaven is theirs that lift 

their swords 
In such a just and charitable war. 
K. Phi. Well then, to work : our cannon shall 

be bent 
Against the brows of this resisting town.— 
Call for our chiefest men of discipline, 
To cull the plots of best advantages: *^^ 

We '11 lay before this town our royal bones, 
Wade to the market-place \}\ -Frenchmen'u 

blood, 0f 

But we will make it subject to this boy. 

Const. Stay for an answer to your embassy. 
Lest uiiadvis'd you stain your swords with 

My Lonl Chatillon may from England bring 

^ More, greater. 

ACT 11. 8w I. KING JOHN. 

That right in peace, which here we urge 

And then we ahall repent each drop d( Uood 
That hot ra>«h hikste go indirectly* shed, 

Entt-r Obatilloii, and AtU)idaiU». 

K. PkL A wonder, luAj ! b, upon thy wish, 

Oar memeoger ChatiUon ia arriv'd I ai 

{To Chatmon'\ What England aayH,BBy briefly, 

gentle lord: 

We coldly pause for tbee; (.liatillon, speak. 
Vhat. Then turn your forueefrom thia poltiy 
And stir them u)> against a mightier task. 
England, impatient of your juHt demands, 
Bath put himself in arms: the adverse winds, 
Whose leisure I have stay'd, have given him 

To laud his legions ^1 as soon as I; 

His marches are esiiedient' to this town, no 

Hix forces strong, his soldiers confident 
With him along is come the mother-queen, 
An Ate,* stirring him to blood and strife; 
With her her niece, the Lady Blanch of 

Q Hash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, 
With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens, — 
Have sold their fortunes at their native homex, 

■ tndirttliii, wrongly. ■ Ezptdi4iU, tipedttloiu 

' Ate, if. goddfln of ditcord- 

• Vf^Utdd kumQVn, i.«. mUsa ipirlta. 

Bearing their birthrights proudly on their- 

To make a hazanl of new foi-tunes here:] 
In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits 
Than now the English liottoms have waft'o'er, 
Did never float upon the swelling tide, 
To do oflence and scath" in (lirisleudoni. 

[/Vfinii tritliiii. 
The interruption of their churlish dnimx 
Chita off more circnnistance: they are at hand. 
To parley or to fight; therefore prepare. 

* Wnfl, waKerl. < Scalk. ileiEructlnn. 

ACT II. Scene 1. 


ACT XL Seeoe I. 

K, Phi. How much unlook'd for is this ex- 
Aiist. By how much unexpected, by so 
We must awake endeavour for defence; si 
For courage mounteth with occasion: 
Let them be welcome, then; we are prepared. 

Filter King John, Elinor, Blanch, the 
Bastard, Pembroke, and Forces. 

K. John. Peace be to France, if France in 
peace pemiit 
Our just and lineal^ entrance to our own; 
If not, bleed France, and peace aacend to 

heaven ! 
(t Whiles we, God^s wrathful agent, do cor- 
J rect 

(f Their proud contempt that beats his peace to 
} heaven. J 

K. Phi, Peace be to England, if that war 


From France to England, there to live in 

peace. M 

T England we love; and for that England's 

) sake 

( With burden of our armour here we sweat 
! This toil of oun should be a work of thine ; 
But thou from loving England art so far, 
Tliat thou hast under-wrought his lawful 


[ Cut off the sequence of posterity, 
< Out-&iced infant state, and done a rai)e 
)Upon the maiden virtue of the crowu. ^ 
Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face; — 

[Pointing to Arthur. 
These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of 
his: 100 

[This little abstract doth contain that large 
Which (lied in Geffrey, and the hand of time 
Shall draw this brief* into as huge a volume. ] 
That Geffrey was ihy elder brother bom, 
And this his son; England was Geffrey's right. 
And his* is Geffrey's : in the name of God 
How comes it then that thou art calPd a king. 
When living blood doth in these temples beat, 
[Putting his hand on Arthur^s head. 
Which owe* the crown that thou o'ermasterest? 

1 Lineal, i.e. by hereditary right. 
« This brief, i.e. this abstract. 
» His^hiB {i.e. Arthur'^) right. 


* Oice. own. 

K. John. From whom hast thou this great 
commission, France, no 

To draw my answer from thy articles? 
K. Phi. From that supernal judge, that stirn 
good thoughts 
In any breast of strong authority, 
To look into the blots and stains of right 
That judge hath made me guafdian to this boy: 
Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong, 
And by whose help I mean to dutstise it 
K. John. Alack, thou dost usurp authority. 
K. Phi. Excuse,*— it is to beat usurping 
down. iii> 

Eli, Who is it thou dost call usurper, France? 
Const. Let m6 make answer; — thy usorfK 

ing son. 
^Eli. Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be J 
That thou mayst be a queen, and check* the 
world ! 
Conti, My bed was ever to thy son as true 
As thine was to thy husband; and thk boy \ 
Liker in feature to his father Gel&ey \ 

Tlian thou and John in manners, — ^being as like ■ 
As rain to water, or devil to hie dam. ^ 

My boy a bastard ! By my soul, I think : 
His father never waa so true begot : isi ■ 

It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. i' 
Eli. There 's a good mother, boy, that bbts i 

thy father. 
Const. There's a good grandam, boy, thst 

would blot thee. ] 
Anst. Peace! 

Bast. Hear the crier. 

Aust. What the devil art thou * 

Bast. One that will j)lay the devil, sir, with 
An a' may catch your hide and you alone : 
You are the hare of whom the proverb goei, 
Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard: 
I'll smoke your skin -coat, an I catch yoa 


Sirrah, look to 't; i' faith, I will, i' faith, iw 

^Bktnch. O, well did he become that hon'd 

n>be ) 

That did disrobe the lion of that robe ! ] 

Bast. It lies as sightly on the back of him \ 

As great Alcides' shows upon an ass: \ 

5 Ezcu9e, i.e. pardon me. 

• Chedt^ mle. 


But, aim, I 'U take that bnrdeti from jour back, 
Or l»y on that shall ntake your afaouldeiH 

Aiut. What cracker' ia this same that deafc 

With this abundance of auperflaons breath? 
King FhiUp^ dctcnniue what we shall do 

K. Pki. WcHoen and foola, Iveak off joar 

oouferenoe. — iM 

King JiJm, this is the very num of all, — isi 
England and Ireland, Aiijou,Toumine,Uaiiie, 
Id right of Arthiu" do I claim of thee: 
Wilt tliou resign them and lay down thy arms? 
A'. John. My iife aa toon:— I do defy thee, 
Arthur of Bretagne, yield tliec to my hand ; 
And, out of my dear We, I 'II give thee more 
Than e'er tlie coward hand of France can win: 
Submit thee, boy. 

<.PU. fmctUUiKa^itai. 

KIL Come to thy grandam, child. 

Coiult. IJfimictiiigaititrtetalJnnfftoachUJi 
Ikt, child, go to it' grandam, child ; in 

Give gmndam kingdom, and it' grandam will 
(live it a plum, a cherry, and a 6g: 
There 'a a good grandam. 

ArtA. Good my mother, peace! 

t would that I were low laid in my grave: 
I am not worth this coil* that 's made for me. 


£7i. Hui mother ahamei him so, poor boy, 
he weeps. 

■ rrarlrr. ■ pbr OB Um word, irblch meui) baaHrr. 

^ Upon you, 

irheV* she 

Coiiit. Now ( 

His grandam'a wrongs, and not lii» mother's 

Draws those heaven-moving pearls from hia 


I nature of a 
[1 shall be 

Ay, with these crystal beads heave 


To do him justice and revenge ou you, 

Eli. Thou monatrous slanderer "f lie.iveu 
and eaith I 

t lfAfV=: whether 

ACT U. Sceuo 1. 


ACT 11. goene I. 

Const. Thou monstrous iajurer of heaven and 
earth ! 174 

C^l not me slanderer; thou and thine usurp 
The dominations, royalties, and rights 
Of this oppressed boy: this is thy eldest son's 

Infortunate in nothing but in thee: 
Thy sins are visited in this poor child ; 
;Q The canon of the law is laid on him, I80 
', Being but the second generation 
; Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb. 

K, John, Bedlam,^ have done. 
I Const, I have but this to say, 

I That he 's not only plagued for her sin, 
But Grod hath made her sin and her the plague 
On this removed* issue, plagu'd^ for her 

• And with her plague, her sin: his injury,* 
Her injury,* — the beadle to her sin, — 

• All punish'd in the person of this child, 18» 
iAjid all for her — for her: a plague upon her!] 

EfL Thou unadvised scold, I can produce 
A will that bars the title of thy son. 

Const. Ay, who doubts that? a will! a wicked 
A woman's will; a cankered ^ gi*andam's will! 
K. Phi. Peace, lady! pause, or be more tem- 
(fit ill beseems this presence to cry aim^ 
To these ill- tuned rei)etition8. — ] 
Some trumpet summon hither to the walls 
These men of Angiers : let us hear them speak 
Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's. 200 

Trumpet sounds. Enter Citizens upon the oralis. 

First. Cit. Who is it that hath warn'd us to 

the walls? 
K. Phi. 'T is France, for England. 
K. John. England, for itself. 

You men of Angiei-s, and my loving subjects, — 
K. Phi. You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's 

Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle — 
A'. John. For our advantage; — therefore 

hear us first. 

> Bedlam, ie. lunatic, mad woman. 
« Removed, remote; Arthur being only £Iinor's grand- 
««n- » Plagii'd, punished. 

* HU injury, i.e. what he suffers. 

* Uer injury, i.e. the evil she inflicts. 

*Caiiker'd, malignant. "> To cry aim. to encourage. 


These flags of France, that are advanced here 
Before the eye and prospect of your town, 
Have hither march'd to your endamagement: 
Thecaimons have their bowels full of wrath, 310 
And ready mounted are they to spit forth 
Their iron indignation 'gainst your wails: 
All preparation for a bloody siege 
And merciless proceeding by these French 
Confronts your city's eyes, your winking gates ;^ 
[And but for our approach those sleepioig; 

That as a waist doth girdle you about. 
By the compulsion of their ordinance* 
By this time from their fixed beds of lime 
Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made sso 
For bloody power to rush upon your peace. ] 
But, on the sight of us, your lawful king,— 
[ Who painfully with much expedient^* maidij 
Have brought a countercheck befoim jovi 

gates, J. 

To save uuscratch'd your city's 

cheeks, — ^] 
Behold, the French, amaz'd, voudiMilfr 
And now, instead of bullets wrappM 
To make a shaking fever in your 
They shoot but calm words, folded op i 
To make a faithless error in your 
Which trust accordingly, kind citi 
And let us in, your king; whose lnjmll 

. spirits, 
Forwearied^^ in this action of swift speed, 
Crave harbourage within your city walla 
K. Phi. When I have said, make answer to 

us both. [Tal-inf/ Arthur by the hand. 
Lo, in this right hand, whose protection 
Is most divinely vow'd upon the right 
Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet, 
Son to the elder brother of this man, 
And king o'er him and all that he enjoys: t\» 
For this down- trodden equity, we tread 
In warlike march these greens before your 

Being no further enemy to you 
Than the constraint of hospitable zeal, 
In the relief of this oppressed child. 
Religiously provokes. [[ Be please<l, then. 

" Witikiiig pa te«=-- gates hastily closed 
• Ordfi}uin<;e = ordnance (cannon). 
•• Kxjtedient, expeditions. 
" Ff/rwearied, wearied out 


ACT II. t 

To pay that duty which you truly owe 

To him that owes* it, namely, this young 

&Jid then our anuB, like to a. muzzliMl bear, 
Save in aspect, hath all offeuce aeal'd up; 2M 
Our CADDona' malice rainly shall be Bpent 
Againat th' invulnerable clouda of heaven; 
And with a bleteed and unvex'd retire. 

i Bworde and helmeta all i 

With unhack'd 

bruia'd, 2M 

We will bear home that liuty bloud again, ; 
Which here we came to apout against yiiur 

And leave your children, wivee, and you in 

But if you fondly pass' our proffer'd offer, ; 

Til not the romidure* of your old-fac'tl walls 
Ckn hide you from our meHsengers of war, zm 
Though all these English and their discipline 
Were barbour'd in their rude circumference.^ 
Then tell ua, ahall your city call us lortl, 
In that behalf which* we have chalieng'd it! 
Or Khali we give the signal to our rage 
And Malk in blood to our poasesaion) 
Fii-a (Y(. In brief, we are the king of Eng- 
lawl's oubjecta: 
Fur him, and in his right, we hold this town. 

A'. Jo/in. Acknowledge, then, tlie king, and 

let me in. 
Fir»l fit. That can we not ; but he that 
proves the king, tro 

To liirn will we prove loyal: till that time 
Have we ramm'd up our gat«a against the 

A'. John, I>oth not the crown of England 
prove the kinjr I 
And if not that, I bring you witneasea. 
Twice fifteen thousand bearta of England's 

Batt. Bastards, and else. 
A'. Jo/ia. Ti) verify our title with their lives. 

ACT II. Seen* 1. 



K. Phi, Am many and as well-bom bloods^ 

as those, — 
Bcut, Some bastards too. 
K. Phi, Stand in his face to contradict his 
claim. 280 

First dC. Till you compound' whose right 
is worthiest, 
We for the worthiest hold the right from both. 
K. John. Then God forgive the sin of all 
those souls 
That to their everlasting residence, 
Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet, 
In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king ! 
K. Phi Amen, amen! Mount, chevaliers! 

to arms! 
Bast, Saint George, that swing'd^ the dra- 
gon, and e'er since 
Sits on his horse back at mine hostess' door, 
< Teach us some fence! — £,[To Austria] Sirrah, 
I were I at home, 200 

' At your den, sirrah, with your lioness, 
^ I would set an ox-head to your lion's hide, 
• And make a monster of you. 
^ A list. Peace ! no more. 

' Bast. O, tremble, for you hear the lion 
S roar.] 

K. John. Up higher to the plain; where we '11 
set forth 
In best appointment all our regiments. 
Bast. S]>eed, then, to take advantage of the 

K. Phi. It shall be so; — [To Lewis] and at 
the other hill 
Command the rest to stand. — Grod and our 
right! [Exeunt. 

After excursions^ enter the Herald of France, 
with trumpets, to the gates, 

F. Her. You men of Angiers, open wide your 

gates, 300 

And let young Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, in, 
Who, by the hand of France, this day hath 

Much work for tears in many an English 

AVhose sons lie scattered on the bleeding 

ground ; 

1 BloodM, men of mettle. * Compottndf agroe. 

* Swinged, whipped, conquered. 


Many a widow's husband grorelling lies, st& 
Coldly embracing the discoloured earth; 
And victory, with little loss, doth play 
Upon the dancing banners of the French, 
Who are at hand, triumphantly displayed, 
To enter conquerors and to proclaim si» 

Arthur of Bretagne England's king and yoan. 

Enter English Herald, with tmmpet, 

E. Her. Bejoice, you men of Angiers, ring 
your bells; 
King John, your king and England's, doth ap- 
Commander of this hot malicious day: 
Their armours, that march'd hence so silver- 
Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's Uood; 
There stuck no plume in any English crest 
That is removed by a staff of Franoe; 
Our colours do return in those same hands 
That did display them when we fini mircfa'd 
forth; t» 

And, like a jolly troop of huntameiiy oone 
Our lusty English, all with purpled huidi, 
Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes: 
0}>eu your gates, and give the Tictors way. 
First CiL Heralds, from off our tofwen we 
might behold, 
From first to last, the onset and retire* 
Of both yoiu* armies; whose equality 
By our best eyes cannot be censured :* 
Blood hath bought blood, and blows have in- 

swer'd blows; 
Strength match'd with strength, and power 
confronted power: s» 

Both are alike; and both alike we like. 
One must prove greatest: while they weigh *» 

We hold our town for neither; yet for both. 

Re-enter on one side. Kino Johk, Euiroi. 
Blanch, the Bastard, Lords^ atid Forcn; 
on the other, Kinq Philip, Lewib» AcsnuA, 
and Forces, 

K. John. France, hast thou yet more blood 
to cast away? 
Say, shall the current of our right run on? 

« Retire, retreat 

ACT II. Smm 1. 


ACT II. Soeue 1. 

[ Whose passage, ▼ex'd with thj impediment, 
Shall leave his native channel, and o'enwell 
Withcaunedisturb'deTenthyoonfining shores, 
Unless thou let his silver water keep 
A peaceful progress to the ocean. 1 340 

A. PhL England, thou hast not sav'd one 

drop of blood. 
In this hot trial, more than we of France; 
Rather, lost moire. And by this hand I swear, 
That 8wa3rs the earth this climate^ overlooks. 
Before we will lay down our just-borne arms. 
We 'II put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms 

we bear. 
Or add a royal number to the dead, 
Q Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's 

With slanghter coupled to the name of kings.^ 
BaM. Ha, majesty! 1m>w high thy glory 

towers, 350 

When the rich blood of kings is set on fire ! 
QO, now doth Death line his dead chaps with 

The swords of sddiers are his teeth, his fangs; 
And DOW he feasts, mousing* the flesh of men, 
In mideCermin'd differences of kinga. — ] 
Why lAaad these royal fronts amazed thus? 
C^ '"luiToe," kin^ii back to the stained field, 
YoQ eqwd potents^' fiery kindled i^nrits I 
Then lei oonfnsion of one part confirm 
The otlier's peace; till then, blows, blood, and 

death! a«o 

K. John, Whose party do the townsmen yet 

K. Phi. Speak, citizens, for England; who 's 

your king? 
Firwt OiL The king of England, when we 

know the king. 
K. Phi, Know him in us, that here hold up 

his right 
K. John, In ns, that are our own great de- 
And bear possession of our person here, 
Lord of our (H^esence, Angiers, and of you. 
Firii CSl a greater power than we denies 

all this; 
And till it be undoubted, we do lock SM 

Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates; 

1 CtimaU, Aj, 
* PaUmU, 

s Moutinfft fearing to pieces, 

QKing'd of* our fears, until our fears, reaolv'd, I 
Be by some certain king purg'd and depoe'd.^J 
Bcut. By heaven, these scroyles^of Angiers 

flout you, kings. 
And stand securely on their battlements, 
Q As in a theatre, whence they gape and pointy 
At your industrious scenes and acts of death.^( 
Your royal presences be rul'd by me: — 
Do like the mutines^ of Jerusalem, 
Be friends awhile, and both conjointly bend 
Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town : 
By eajst and west let France and England 

mount 381 

Their battering cannon, charged to the mouths, 
Till their soul-fearing^ clamours have brawl'd 

The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city: 
[I 'd play incessantly upon these jades, 
Even till unfenced desolation 
Leave them aa naked as the vulgar air. J 
That ^ne, dissever your united strengths, 
And part your mingled colours once again; 
Tmm face to face, and bloody point to point; 390 
Then, in a moment. Fortune shall cull forth 
Out of one side her happy minion. 
To whom in favour she shall give the day, 
And kiss him with a glorious victory. 
How like yoa this wild counsel, mighty states ? 
Smacks it not something of the policy?' 
K. John. Now, by the sky that hangs above 

our heads, 
I like it well — France, shall we knit^ our 

And lay this Angiers even with the ground; 
Then, aiter, fight ^° who shall be king of it? 400 
Q BcLst. An if thou hast the mettle of a king, — ; 
Being wrong'd aa we are by this peevish ^^v| 
■ town, — ] 

Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, ^ 

As we will ours, against these saucy walls; J 
And when that we have dasli'd tliem to thes 

ground, ^ 

Why then defy each other, and pell-mell s 
Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or) 

hell.] i 

* King'd of, i.e. ruled, as by a Idng, by, 

* SeroyUs, literally "scabby fellows;" a term of abuse. 
« Mutines, mutineers. ' Soul/earing. soul-frighting. 

* ThepUiep, the pollUc art. * KnU, unite. 

!• Fight = fight (to decide) who. ^0. 1 < PeeviMh, f ooUah. 




A". Phi. Let it bew 


', where will you 

A'. John. We from the west will aetul de- 
Into thia city's bosom. 410 

Autt, I from the north. 
A'. Phi. Our thunder' from the south 

Shall rwn their drift of bulleU on this town. 
Bi>a. [Ande\ prudent discipline ! From 
Tiorth to south, — 

Austria and France shoot in each other's 
mouth: lu 

1 '11 stir them to it — Come, away, away! 
t'irat Cii. Hear us, great kings : Touchiafc 
awhile to stay, 

And I shall show you peace and fair-fac'd 

Win you this city without stroke or wound; 
Bescue those breathing lives to die in beds, 
That here come sacrifices for the field: i:> 

Persfver iii>t, but lienr me, mighty kings. 431 
A'. John. Speak on with favoiir; we are bent 

Firtt Oil. That daughter thereof Spain, the 
lady BUucli, 
Is niece to Eiiglittid: look upon the years 
Of Lewis the Dauphin and that lovely 

X. If lusty love should go in quest of lieauty, 
Wliere should he find it fairer than in Blanch? 
If zealous love should go in search of virtue. 
Where should he find it purer than in Blancht 
If love nmbitioiiB sought a. match of birth, 4» 

' Wlioue veins bound ' ricLer blood than Lady 

' Blanch! 

Such as she is, in beauty, virtui^, birth, 40 
Is the yoimg Dauphin every way poinplefe: 
If not eom]ilet«, oh! say he is not she; 
And she again wants nothing, to mime wMit. 
If want it l)e. but that she is not be: 
He is the half (uirt nf a blessed roMXt, 
Left to be finished by such a she; 
A m\ ahe a fair divided excellence. 
Whose fulncFs of perfei^oii lies in faitn.^ "* 
O, two such silver ciureats, when they j"iii. 
T>o glorify the banks that bound them in: 
And two such shores to two such strcnmsaiwl' 

Two sueli controlling bounds shall yot 

To these two princes, if you marry tliein. 
This union shall do more thnn liatlery oi 
To our fusUcloeed gates; for, at this ouu 

ACT II. SoeiM 1. 


ACT II. Scene 1, 

With swifter spleen^ than powder can enforce, 
The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope, 
And give you entrance: but, without this 
match, 450 

The sea enraged is not half so deaf, 
Lions more confident, mountains and rocks 
More free from motion; no, not Death himself 
In mortal fury half so peremptory, 
As we to keep this city. 

Bast. Here 's a stay^ 

That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death 
Out of his rags ! Here 's a large mouth, in- 
That spits forth death and mountains, rocks 

and seas, 
Talka as familiarly of roaring lions 
As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs I 460 
XWbat cannoneer begot this lusty blood? 
He apeaks plain cannon, — fire, and smoke, and 
< botmoe;' 

^ He gives the bastinado with his tongue: 
' Our ears are cudgell'd; not a word of his 
sBut buffets better than a fist of France:^ 
Zounds ! I was never so bethump'd with words 
Since I first call'd my brother's father dad. 
\K. Philip and Leiois talk together apart. 
EiL [Aside to K. ./oAn] Son, list to this con- 
janctioiiy^ make this match; 
Give with our niece a dowr}" large enough: 
For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie 470 
Thy now unsur'd assurance to the crown, 
^fThat yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe 
The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit ^ 
I nee a yielding in the looks of France; 
Mark, how they whisper: urge them while their 

Are capable of this ambition, 
Q Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath 
Of soft petitions, pity, and remorse. 
Cool and congeal again to what it was. ] 
First Oil, Why answer not the double mar 
jesties 480 

This friendly treaty of our threatened town? 
K. Phi. Speak England first, that hath been 
forward first 
To speak unto this city: what say you? 

> SpUen^ Tehemence. 

) Stay. I em liriog barrier; one that atopa your passage. 

* Bcvnce, a load sound; a bang. 

* Oof^netUm, anion, matrimonial alliance. 

K. John. If that the Dauphin there, thy 
princely son, 484 

Can in this book of beauty read "I love," 
Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen: 
d For Anjou and fair Touraine, Maine, Poic- J 
tiers, ( 

And all that we upon this side the sea — "; 

Except this city now by us besieged — j; 

Find liable to our crown and dignity, 490 ] 

Shall gild her bridal bed; and make her rich ' 
In titles, honours, and promotions, I 

As she in beauty, education, blood, \ 

Holds hand with any princess of the world. ] • 
A". Phi. What say 'at thou, boy ? look in the 

hidy'a face. 
J^w. 1 do, my lord; and in her eye I find 
A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, 
The shadow of myself fomi'd in her eye; 
Which, beintr but the shadow of your son, 
Becomes a sun, and makes your son a sha- 
dow : MM) 
[ I do protest I never If >v'd myself, ' 
Till now infixed I beheld myself ; 
Drawn in the flattering table ^ of her eye. ] 

[ Whispers with Blanch. 

Bast. Drawn in the flattering tiible of her eye! 

Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow ! 

And quarter'd in her heart I — he doth eapy 

Himself love's traitor: — this is pity now, 

That, hang'd and drawn and quarter'd, there 

should l)e 
In such a love so vile a lout as he. 
[[ Bla)wh. My uncle's will in this respect is 
mine: 5io 

If he see aught in you that makes him like, 
That any thing he sees, which moves his lik- 
I can with ease translate it to my will ; 

Or if you will, to si)eak more properly, 
I will enforce it easily to my love. '■■ 

Further I will not flatter you, my lord, ; 

That all I see in you is worthy love, > 

ITian this; that nothing do I see in you, 
Though churlish thoughts themselves should 

be your judge, ) 

That I can find should merit any hate. ] 520 
K. John. What say these young ones? — 

What say you, my niece? 

s Table, tablet. 

ACT II. Scene 1. 




Blanch, That she 's bound in honour gtill 

to do 522 

What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to say. 
K. John, Speak then, prince Dauphin; can 

you love this lady? 
Lew. Nay, ask me if I can refrain from 
For I do love her most unfeignedly. 
A'. John. Then do I give Vokiuessen,^ Tou- 
raine, Maine, 
Poictiers and Anjou, these five provinces, 
With her to thee; and this addition more. 
Full thirty thousand marks* of English coin. — 
Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, 63i 
Command thy son and daughter to join hands. 
K. Phi. It likes' us well. — Young princes, 

close your hands. 
Aust. And your lips too; for I am well as- 
That I did so when I was first assur'd.* 
K. Phi. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your 
Let in that amity which you have made; 
For at Saint Mary's chapel presently 
The rites of marriage shall be solemniz'd. — 
Is not the Lady Constance in this troop? — 640 
I know she is not, for this match made up 
Her presence would have interrupted much: 
Where is she and her son ? tell me, who knows. 
Leto. She is sad and passionate^ at your 

highness' tent. 
A'. Phi. And, by my faith, this league that 
we have made 
Will give her sadness very little cure. — 
Brother of England, how may we content 
This widow lady? [[ In*her right we came; 
Which we, Goil knows, have turn'd another 

To our own vantage. ] 

K. John. We will heal up all; 650 

For we 11 create young Arthur Duke of Bre- 

And Earl of Richmond; and this rich fair 

We make him lord of. — Call the Lady Con- 

1 Volquetuen, the old name of Le Vexin^ a {Mtrt of Nor- 
mandy. 3 Marks, the mark was worth 13«. Ad. 
3 Likfs, pleaseH. < Awur'd, afHanced. 
* PoMiotMte, full of griff. 


Some speedy messenger bid her repair 564 

To our solemnity: — [ I trust we shall, 

If not fill up the measure of her will. 

Yet in some measure satisfy her so 

That we shall stop her exclamation. ] 

Go we, as well as haste will suffer us, 

To this unlook'd for, unprepared pompc 500 

[Exeunt aU hut the BaUard, The CitizeM 
retire from the walls. 
Bast, Mad world! mad kings! mad com- 
position !^ 
John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole, 
Hath willingly departed with^ a part, 
And France, — whose armour conscience 

buckled on. 
Whom zeal and charity brought to the field 
As God's own soldier, — rounded^ in the ear 
With that same purpose -changer, that sly 

That broker, that still breaks the pate of 

That daily break-vow, he that wina of all, 
Of kings, of beggars, old men, young mflii, 

maids, — sn 

£ Who, having no external thing to lose \ 
But the word '^maid," cheats the poor maid; 

of that, ] ] 

That smooth -fac'd gentleman, tickUng ocan* 

modity,' — 
[Commodity, the bias of the world, ) 

The world, who of itself is peised ^® well, ! 
Made to run even upon even ground, ^ 

Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias^ ] 
This sway of motion, this commodity, ) 

Makes it take head from all indifferency,*^ i 
From all direction, purpose, course, intent: 5». 
And this same bias, this commodity, | 

This bawd, this broker, this all -changing/ 

word, ] 
Gapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France, 
Hath drawn him from his own detenam'ti 

From a resolv'd and honourable war, 
To a most base and vile-concluded peace. 
And why rail I on this commodity? 
But for because he hath not wooed me yet: 

* CompotUion, agreement 
Departed with, puted with. 

* Rounded, whispered. * Comm^dUff, t dtkalm t^ 
i^Peised, balanced. nind^trmt^ tanpsUiUIr- 

ACT 11. So«iM 1. 


ACT III. Scene 1. 

Not that I have the power to clutch^ my hand, 
When his fair angels' would salute my 
palm; 590 

But for my hand, as unattempted yet, 
Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. 
Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail. 

And say there is no sin but to be rich ; 094 
And being rich, my virtue then shall be 
To say, — there is no vice but beggary. 
Since kings break faith upon commodity, 
Gain, be my lord, — for I will worship thee. 



Scene I. France. The French Kin^s tent. 

Enter Constance, Arthur, and Salisbury. 

Contt. €U>ne to be married ! gone to swear 

a peace! 
False blood to false blood join'd ! gone to be 

friends ! 
Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those 

It is not so ; thou hast misspoke, misheard ; 
Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again: 
It cannot be; thou dost but say 'tis so: 
I trust I may not trust thee; for thy word 
Is but the vain breath of a common man: 
Believe me, I do not believe thee, man; 
I have a king's oath to the contrary. lo 

Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me, 
For I am sick, and capable of ^ fears; 
Oppressed with wrongs and therefore full of 

A widow, husbandless, subject to fears; 
A woman, naturally bom to fears; 
And though thou now confess thou didst but 

With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce. 
But they will quake and tremble all this day. 
What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head? 
Why dost thou look so sadly on my son? ao 
^What means that hand upon that breast of 

"Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,^ 
Xiike a proud river peering o'er^ his bounds? 
these sad signs confirmers of thy words? 

1 ClMieh. that cloM. 

* AngeU, the gold oofns lo ealled ; a pun to intended. 

* CapoHe qf, nitceptlble ot * Bheumt mototnie. 

* Peering o'er, oTer-peering; rtoing abore. 


Then speak again, — not all thy former tale. 
But this one word, whether thy tale be true. 
Sal. As true as I believe you think them 

That give you cause to prove ray saying true. 
Const. O, if thou teacli me to believe this 

sorrow, 29 

Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die; 
t And let belief and life encounter so 
As doth the fury of two desperate men, 
Which in the very meeting fall and die I — ] 
Lewis marry Blanch ! O boy, then where art 

France friend with England! what becomes 

of me ? — 
Fellow, be gone : I cannot brook thy sight; 
This news hath made thee a most ugly man. 
[[ Sal. What other harm have I, good lady, ' 

done, ; 

But spoke the harm that is by others done ? '> 

Const. Which harm within itself so heinous^ 

is, 4e: 

As it makes harmful all that speak of it. ^ 
Arth. I do beseech you, madam, be content.^ 
Const. If thou, tliat bidd'st me be content, 

wert grim. 
Ugly, and slanderous to thy mother's womb. 
Full of unpleasing blots and sightless^ stains, 
Lame, foolish, crooked, swart,^ prodigious,® 
Patch'd with foul moles and eye -offending 

I would not care, I then would be content; 
For then I should not love thee; no, nor thou 
Become thy great birth, nor deserve a crown, so 
But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, 

* Be content, i.e. he calm. ^ Sightless, ansightly. 

* Swart, of dark complexion. 

* Prodigious, ue. monstrous.- 

177 «« 

ACT III. Scene 1. 


ACT III. Soeoe 1. 

Nature aiid Fortune joiu'd to make thee great: 

Of Nature's gifts thou mayst with lilies boast 

'And with the half-blown rose. FBut For- 

tune, O, 
She is corrupted, chang'd, and won from thee; 
She adulterates^ hourly with thine uncle John, 
Aiid with her golden hand hath pluck'd on 

To tread down fair resjject of sovereignty, 
And made his majesty the bawd to theirs. 
France is a bawd to Fortune and King 

John,- - 60 

That strumpet Fortune, that usurping John 1 — "} 
Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn? 
Envenom him with words; or get thee gone, 
And leave those woes alone which I alone 
Am bound to under-bear.* 

Sal. Panlon me, madam, 

I may not go without you to the kings. 
Const. Thou mayst, thou shalt; I will not 

go with thee: 
I will instruct my sorrows to be proud; 
For grief is proud and makes his owner stoop. 
To me, and to the state of my great grief, 70 
Let kings assemble; for my grief's so great. 
That no 8Upix)rter but the huge firm earth 
C^n hold it up: here I and sorrow sit; 
Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it. 

[Seats herself on the ground. 

Kilter King John, Kino Philip, Lewis, 
Blanch, Elinor, the Bastard, Austria, 
and Attendants. 

K. Phi. Tis true, fair daughter; and this 
blessed day 
Ever in France shall be kept festival : 
^QTo solemnize this day the glorious sun 
' Stays in his course, and plays the alchemist^ 
Turning with splendour of his precious eye 
; The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold : ] so 
The yearly course that brings this day about 
Shall never see it but a holiday. 

CoMt. A wicke<l day, and not a holy day! — 

What hath this day deseiVd? what hath it 

That it in golden letters should be set 


1 AdtdUratet, cominits adultery 
s To under-btar, to endur*. 


Among the high tides^ in the calendar? 86 
Nay, rather turn this day out of the week, 
This day of shame, oppression, perjury. 
[Or, if it must stand still, let wivee with, 

child ; 

Pray that their burthens may not fall thii 
day, » 

Lest that their hopes prodigiously^ becrosB'd: 
But^ on this day let seamen fear no wreck; / 
No bargains break that are not this day made: 
This day, all things begun come to ill end,— 
Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change !] 
K. Phi. "By heaven, lady, you shall have no 
To curse the fair proceedings of this day: 
Have I not pawn'd to you my majesty? 
Const. You have beguiFd me with a counter- 
Resembling majesty; which, being touched and 
tried, i« 

Proves valueless: you are forsworn, forswora; 
You came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood, 
But now in arms you strengthen it with yoare: 
The grappling vigour and rough frown of wir 
Is cold in amity and painted peace, 
And our oppression hath made up this lesgoft 
Arm, arm, you heavens, against these peijai^d 

kings ! 
A widow cries; be husband to me, heavens! 
Let not the hours of this ungodly day 
Wear out the day in peace ; but, ere son set, i» 
Set armed discord 'twixt these perjur'd kingi- 
Hear me, O, hear me ! 
Atist. Lady Constance, petce! 

Const. War! war! no peace! peace is tone 
a war. 
O Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost shame 
That bloody spoil: thou slave, thou wretch, 

thou coward ! 
Thou little valiant, great in villany ! 
Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! 
Thou Fortune's champion that dost w^ 

But when her humorous* ladyship is by 
To teach thee safety ! thou art per jur'd too^ i» 

s Uufh tides, great days, high festiTak; 
« Prodiffioutly, i.e. by the prodaction of a 
« But, except • JTumaroaa, cMprkiom, 

ACT m. 8emie 1. 


ACT III. Scene 1. 

And sooth'st up^ greatnesB. What a fool art 

A ramping* fool, to brag, and stamp, and 

Upon my party ! Thou cold-blooded slave, 
Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side? 
Been sworn my soldier? bidding me depend 
Upon thy stars, thy fortune and thy strength? 
And dost thou now fall over to my foes? 
Thou wear a lion's hide ! doff it for shame. 
And hang a calf 9-8kin on those recreant limbs. 
A utt, O, that a man should speak those words 
to me ! ISO 

BaM. And hang a calf siskin on those re- 
creant limb& 
A tut. Thou dar'st not say so, villain, for thy 

Bast, And hang a calf s-skin on those re- 
creant limbs. 
K. John. We like not this; thou dost forget 

Enter Pandulfh. 

K. Phi. Here comes the holy legate of the 

Pand. Hail, you anointed deputies of hea- 
To thee, King John, my holy errand is. 
I Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal. 
And from Pdpe Innocent the legate here, 
Do in his name religiously demand, 140 

Why thou against the church, our holy mother, 
So wilfully dost spurn; and, force perforce,^ 
Keep Stephen Langton, chosen archbishop 
Of Qinterbury, from that holy see? 
This, in our foresaid holy father's name, 
Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee. 
K. John. What earthly name to interroga- 
<\n task the free breath^ of a sacred king? 
nrhou canst not, cardinal, devise a name 
J8o slight, unworthy, and ridiculous, 150 

*To charge me to an answer, as the pope. 
"Tell him this tale; and from the mouth of 

-Add thus much more, — that no Italian priest 
Shall tithe or toll* in our dominions; 

1 SootKtt lip. iUttereti > Ramping, nunpant 
« Force perfmrt^t Yxj violence. « Bnath, ipeech 
« 7Ve&« or toU. <.«. Uke tithe or toll 

But as we, under heaven, are supreme head. 
So, under Him, that great supremacy, 
Where we do reign, we will alone uphold. 
Without th' assistance of a mortal hand : 
[ So tell the pope, all reverence set apart 
To him and his usurp'd authority.^ 160| 

K. Phi. Brother of England, you Uaspheme 

in thi& 
A". John. Though you, and all the kings of 

Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, 
Dreading the cui-se that money may buy out; 
d And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust, 
Purchase corrui)ted pardon of a man, 
Who in that sale sells pardon from himself ; 
Though you and all the rest, so grossly led. 
This juggling witchcraft with rev6nue cherish ;] ; 
Yet I alone, alone do me oppose 170 

Against the pope, and count his friends my 

Pand. Then, by the lawful power that I 

Thou shalt stand curs'd and excommunicate: 
And blessed shall he be that doth revolt 
From his allegiance to an heretic; 
And meritorious shall that hand be calPd, 
Can6nized, and worshipped as a saint. 
That takes away by any secret course 
Thy hateful life. 

Const. O, lawful let it be 

That I have room with Rome to curse awhile! 
Good father cardinal, cry thou amen isi 

To my keen curses; for without my wrong 
There is no tongue hath power to curse him 

[[ Pand. There *8 law and warrant, lady, fon 

my curse. 
Const. And for mine too: when law can doi 

no right. 
Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong: 
Law cannot give my child his kingdom here. 
For he that holds his kingdom holds the law: 
Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong, 
How can the law forbid my tongue to curse? ] ipo ; 
Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curse, 
Let go the hand of that arch-heretic; 
And raise the power of France upon his head, 
Unless he do submit himself to Bome. 

Eli. Look*st thou pale, France? do not let 

go thy hand. 


ACT III. beetle 1. 


ACT 111. Soene 1. 

Const, Look to that, devil ; lest that France 
repent, 196 

And, by disjoining hands, hell lose a souL 
[ Ausi. King Philip, listen to the cardinal 
Bast. And hang a calf s-skin on his recreant 

Aust. Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these 
wrongs, aoo 

Because — 
Bast. Your breeches best may carry them.^ 
K. John. Philip, what sa/st thou to the 

Coiist. What should he say, but as the car- 
dinal ? 
Lew. Bethink you, father ; for the difference 
Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome, 
Or the light loss of England for a friend: 
Forego the easier. 

Blanck. That 's the curse of Bome. 

' [ Const. O Lewis, stand fajstl the devil tempts 
\ thee here 
( In likeness of a new untrimmed bride. 

Blanch. The Lady Constance speaks not from 
her faith, 210 

) But from her need. 

Const. O, if thou grant my need, 

< Which only lives but by the death of faith, 
(That need must needs infer this principle, — 

' That faith would live again by death of need. 
•^^O, then, tread down my need, and faith mounts 

\ up; 

vKeep my need up, and faith is trodden down! 

< K. John. The king is mov'd, and answers 
) not to this. 

J Const. O, be remov'd from him, and answer 
well ! 
Aust. Do so, King Philip; hang no more 
in doubt. 

/ Bast. [To Anstrial^ Hang nothing but a 

'■ -calf s-skin, most sweet lout. ] 220 

K. Phi. I am perplex'd, and know not what 

to say. 
Pand. What canst thou say but will perplex 
thee more, 
If thou stand excommunicate and curs'd? 
K. Phi. Good reverend father, make my per- 
son yours, 
And tell me how you would bestow yourself.* 

This royal hand and mine are newly knit. 
And the conjunction of our inward souls 
Married in league, coupled and link'd together 
With all religious strength of sacred vows; 
[The latest breath that gave the sound of 
words 230 

Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true 
love > 

Between our kingdoms and our royal selves; \ 
And even before this truce, but new before,—' 
No longer than we well could wash oar 

To clap this royal bargain up of peace, — 
Heaven knows, they were besmeared and over- 

With slaughter's pencil, where revenge did 

The fearful difference of incensed kings: 3 
And shall these hands, so lately purg'd of 

So newly join'd in love, so strong in both, sm 
Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet?' 
Play fast and loose with faith? so jest with 

Make such unconstant children of ourselveB, 
As now again to snatch our palm from palzD; 
Unswear faith sworn; and on the marriage- 
Of smiling peace to march a bloody host, 
And make a riot on the gentle brow 
Of true sincerity? O, holy sir. 
My reverend father, let it not be so ! 
Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose 
Some gentle order; then we shall be blest 
To do your pleasure, and continue friends. 
Pand. All form is formless, order order- 
Save what is opposite^ to England's love. 
Therefore to arms! be champion of our church' 
Or let the church, our mother, breathe ber 

curse, — 
A mother's curse, — on her revolting son. 
Fi-ance, thou mayst hold a serpent by thf 

A chafed lion by the mortal paw, 
A fasting tiger safer by the tooth, ^ 

Tlian keep in ])eace that hand which thoo dotf 


^ Begtotc ymtrtel/, i e. behave yonnelf. 

* Jieifteet, salutatioo. 

* OppoiUe, hoftik. 



ACT III. Scene 1. 

I may disjoin my hand, but not my 


mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith ; 
a civil war, sett'st oath to oath, 

le against thy tongue. O, let thy vow 
le to heaven, first be to heaven per- 


> be the champion of our church ! 
ince thou swor'st is sworn against 


not be performed by thyself : 
rhich thou hast sworn to do amiss 270 
IBS when it is truly done, 
g not done, where doing tends to ill, 

is then most done, not doing it: 
r act of purposes mistook 
ake again; though indirect, 
ection' thereby grows direct, 
bood falsehood cures, as fire cools fire 
le scorched veins of one new-bum'd. 
ion that doth make vows kept; 
hast sworn against religion: 280 

hou swear'st against the thing thou 
r'st by, 

'st an oath the surety for thy truth 
n oath: the truth thou art unsure 

swears only not to be forsworn ; 
; a mockery should it be to swear I 
dost swear only to be forsworn; 
; forsworn, to keep what thou dost 

thy later vows against thy first 
elf rebellion to^ thyself ; ] 
T conquest never canst thou make 290 
L thy constant and thy nobler parts 
bese giddy loose suggestions: 
ich better part our prayers come in, 
uchsafe them.^ But if not, then know 
of our curses light on thee, 
as thou shalt not shake them off, 
spair, die under their black weight, 
iebellion, flat rebellion ! 


1 calf s-skin stop that mouth of thine? 
ither, to arms ! 

Upon thy wedding-day? 300 
le blood that thou hast married ? 

iticn, wrong. * To, against 

«!/'« thsm, i.e. art willing to accept them. 

[[ What, shall our feast be kept with slaugh- 
tered men? 302 

Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish^ 
drums, — 

Clamours of hell, — be measures to our pomp? ] 

husband, hear me ! — ay, alack, how new 

Is husband in my mouth ! — even for that name, 
Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pro- 
Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms 
Against mine uncle. 

Coiitt. O, upon my knee, 

Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee, 310 
Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom 
Forethought* by heaven ! 
Blanch, Now shall I see thy love: what mo- 
tive may 
Be stronger with thee than the name of wife? 
Contt. That which upholdeth him that thee 
His honour: O, thine honour, Lewis, thine 
honour ! 
Lew. I muse* your majesty doth seem so cold. 
When such profound respects do pull you on. 
Pand, I will denounce a curse upon his 

K, Phi. Thou shalt not need.— England, Til 
fall from thee. S20 

Const. O fair return of banish'd majesty ! 
Eii. O foul revolt of French inconstancy ! 
K. John. France, thou shalt rue this hour 

within this hour. 
[[ Bcut. Old Time the clock-setter, that bald 
sexton Time, 
Is it as h6 will ? well then, France shall rue. 
Blanch, The sun 's o'ercast with blood : fair 
day, adieu! 
Which is the side that I must go withal? 

1 am with both: each army hath a hand; 
And in their rage, I having hold of both^ 
They whirl asunder and dismember me. 330 
Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win; 
Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose; 
Father, I may not wish the fortune thine; 
Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive : 
Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose; 
Assured loss before the match be play'd. 


* C%ufii^, rongh-sonndlng. 

» Forethought, decreed. < Mtue, wonder. 



ACT 111. « 

Lev. Lwly, witL n 

witU I 

I thy fortune 

I Blanch. There where vay fortune livee, there 

} my life dies. 

} K. Johii."^ Couain, go draw our puiawnce ' 
together. [£ric Baitard. 

FraBce,I ambum'd up with iuflatning wrath i 
A rage whoae heat hath thia condition,^ hi 
That nothing caji alky, uothing but blood, — 
The bloodgUui dearest-valued blood, of France. 

K. PliL Thy rage ahall bum thee up, atid 

thou ahalt turn m 

To aahe^ ere our blood shall quench that fire : 

Look to thyaelf, thou art im jec^iardy. 

K. John- No more than be that threato. — To 

arms left hie: 

[Exeant on one tide King Jok^ Binor 
and AUeadanU: on tJt§ otk^ King FkUip, 
LewU, Blattch, Coatkuu*, Pa»dtUjpk and 
AttendaiUi. Trumpeti touitd. 

ScENB II. Tie tame. Plaiiu near Aagien. 

Alarunu, exeuriiont. Enter the Bastard, with 
Austeia's head, and t/ie lioit ttiii. 
Batt Now, by my life, this day grows won- 
drous hot; 

Some airy devil hovers in the sky, 

And poun down mischief. — Auatria'a head lie 

While Philip breathex. 

I Puimanet -fiitcf: iKuscHuiced bsn w > trli)UiiliIe, 

Enter Kiito John, AitTHnii, and HriBR. 

K.Johi. Hub«rt,keep thou this boy. Fhili^ 
make up:^ 
My mother is asaailed in our tent, 
And ta'en, I fear. 

BitU. My lord, I rescued bcr; 

Her highness in in safety, fear yon net: 
But on, my liege; for very tittle pains 
WiU bring this labour to an hai^y Mtd. * 

> Matt *p, boTQ OS. 

ACT III. 8eeM t. 


ACT III. SceiM 3. 

Scene III. The tame. 

AlaranUy excursions^ retreat. Enter Kino John, 
Elinor, Arthur, the Baotard, Hubert, 
and Lords, 

K. John. [To Elinorl So shall it be; your 
grace shall stay behind 
So stroDgiy gnanled. [To Arthtr] Coiisin, look 

not sad: 
Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will 
As desr be to thee as thy father was. 
Artk. O, this will make my mother die with 

K. John, [To the Bastcard] Cousin, away for 
England! haste before: 
And, ere our coming, see thon shake the 

Of hoarding abbots; set at liberty 
Imprison'd •angels:^ the fat ribs of peace 
Must by the hungry now be fed upon: lo 
Use our commisHJon in his utmost force. 
Bast. Bell, book, and candle shall not drive 
me back, 
When gold and silver becks me to come ou. 
I leave your highness. — Grandam, I wiU pray — 
If ever I remember to be holy — 
For your fair safety; so, I kiss your hand, 
Eli, Farewell, my gentle cousin. 
A'. John. Coz, farewell. 

[Exit Bastard. 
EIL C6me hither, little kinsman; hark, a 
word. [Takts Arthur aside. 

K. John, Come hither, Hubert O my gen< 
tie Hubert, 
We owe thee much ; within this wall of flesh 20 
There is a soul counts thee her creditor. 
And with advantage means to pay thy love: 
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath 
Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished. 
Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say, — 
But I will fit it with some better time. 
By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham'd 
To say what good reqpect I have of thee.^ 
Huff. I am much bounden to your majesty. 
A'. John, Good friend, thou hast no cause to 
say so yet, 30 

1 AngeU, gold coin*, worth aboeft IQi. each. 
* WluU gmtd naput^ Ac., i.e. ** what great ragard I hare 

But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so 
slow, 31 

Yet it shall come for me to do thee good. 
I had a thing to say, — but let it go: 
The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, 
Attended with the pleasures of the world. 
Is all too wanton ainl too full of gawds^ 
To give me audiences — if the midnight bell 
Did, with his iron tongue and bi*azen mouth, 
Sound on into the drowsy race of night; 
If this same were a churchyard where we 
stand, 40 

And thou possessed with a ^ousand wrongs; 
Or if that surly spirit, melancholy, 
Had bak'd thy blood and made it heax-y, 

Which else runs tickling up and down the 

Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes, 
And stmin their cheeks to idle merriment, — 
A passion hateful to my purposes; 
Or if that thou couldst see me without eye.s, 
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply 
Without a tongue, using conceit* alone, :*o 
Without eyes, eai's, and harmful sound of 

Then, in despite of brooded* watchful day, 
I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts: 
But, ah, I will not! — yet I love thee well; 
And, by my troth, I think thou lov'st me well. 
Hah. So well, that what you bid me under- 
Though that my death were adjunct to my 

By heaven, I would do it. 

K. John. Do not I know thou wouldst? 

Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine 

On yon young boy : I '11 tell thee what, my 
friend, 60 

He is a very serpent in my way; 
And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread. 
He lies before me: — dost thou understand me i 
Thou art his keeper. 

Huh. And I '11 keep him so, 

That he shall not offend your majesty. 

K. John. Death. 

s Oavfds, showy ornaments. 

* Conceit, thought. 

ft Brooded = brooding, i.e. watchful as a Urd on Its nest. 

ACT Hi. S«ii.S. R.1HU 

Hub. My !oid( 

A'. John. A grave. 

Hub. He Hh&ll uot live. 

K. John. Enough. 

I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee; 
Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee: 
Beniember. — Uadam, fare yon well: 
I '11 send those powers o'er to your nujesty. 70 

Kit. My bleasiiig go with thee! 

A', .fahii. For Eiiglwid, cousin, go: 

Hubert ajiall be your man, attend on you 
With all true duty. — On toward (^aUis, ho! 

Scene IV. Theti 

The French Kiiig'i' 



K. Phi. So, by a roaring tempest ou I 
A whole arma<lo' of convicted' sail 
Is scattered and disjoiii'd from fellowiiliip. 

A'. Phi. What can go well, when we have 

Are we not beateni Is not Angiers lostl 
Arthur ta'en prisoner} divers dear friends 

And bloody England* into England gone, 
O'erbearing intemi)ition, spita of France? 
[ L«iB. What he hath won, that hath he for- ; 

tified: u, 

So hot a speed with such advice* diapoe'd. 
Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, 
Doth want example: who hath read or heuti 
Of any kindred action like to this? 

K. Phi. WeUcouldlbearthatEnglandbai!:' 

this praise, ' 

So wecould find some pattern of our shame.—]' 
Look, who comes here ! a grave unto a 

Holding th' eternal spirit, against her ^ 
In the vile prison of afflicted breath. 



A'. Phi. Patience, good lady ! comfort, geotlr 

Cotttt. No, I defy' all counsel, all redriMi. 
But that which ends all counsel, true tedrm 
Death, death : — amiable lovely death ! 
[Thou odoriferous stench ! aouiid rottenneac! 
Arise forth from the couch of lasting niglit 
Thou hate and terror to prosperity. 
And I will kiss thy d^testible bones, 
And put my eyeballs in thy vanity brows. * 
And ring these fingers with thy houseloU 

And stop this gap of breath' with futMW 

And be h carrion monster like thyself: 
Come, grin on me, and I will think thou flniTti 
And buss' thee as thy wife T^ Miseiy'i li>"- 

O, c 


A'. Phi. 

O fair affliction, peace ! 


ACT III. 8o«M 4. 


ACT in. Soeue 4. 

Comt, No, no, I will not, having breath to 
cry: — 
O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth ! 
Then with a passion would I shake the world; 
And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy ^ 40 
Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice. 
Which scorns a modem' invocatioiL 

PamL lady, you utter madness, and not 

C<mti, Thou art not holy to belie me so; 
I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine; 
My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife; 
Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost: 
I am not mad: I would to heaven I were ! 
For then, 't is like I should forget myself : 
0, if I could, what grief should I forget ! — 50 
Preach some philosophy to make me mad, 
And thou shalt be can6niz'd, cardinal ; 
For, being not mad, but sensible of grief. 
My reasonable part produces reason 
How I may be delivered of these woes, 
An<l teaches me to kill or hang myself : 
If I were mad, I should forget my son. 
Or madly think a babe of clouts' were he: 
I am not mad; too well, too well I feel 
The different plague of each calamity. oo 

K, Phi. Bind up those tresses. — O, what love 
I note 
In the fair multitude of those her hairs ! 
Where but by chance a silver drop hath fall'n, 
Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends 
Do glue themselves in sociable^ gnef. 
Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,^ 
Sticking together in calamity. 

Contt, To England, if you wilL 

K. Phi. Bind up your hairs. 

ConM. Yes, that I will ; and wherefore will 

I do it? 69 

I tore them from their bonds, and cried aloud, 

^' O that these hands could so redeem my 

As they have given these hairs their liberty!'' 
But now I envy at their liberty, 
AihI will again commit them to their bonds, 
Because my poor child is a prisoner. — 

1 T%at/eUanaUmift=ih».tcrwitk9\eUm, i.e. DeaUi. 

i Modem, oommonplace. 

s A babe of elouU, i.e. a rag-baby. 

« Sociable, to be pronounced as a quadrltyllable. 

^ LoTM- lovers. 

And, father cardinal, I have heard you say 
That we shall see and know our friends in 

If that be true, I shall see my boy again ; 
For since the birth of Cain, the first male child 
To him that did but yesterday suspire,^ so 
There was not such a gracious^ creature born. 
But now will canker sorrow eat my bud, 
And chase the native beauty from his cheek, 
[ And he will look as hollow as a ghost, ' 

As dim and meagre as an ague's fit,^ 
And so he '11 die; and, rising so again, 
When I shall meet him in the court of heaven 
I shall not know him: therefore never, never 
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more. 
Pand. You hold too heinous a re8i)ect of 

grief.* 90 

Const. He talks to me that never had a son. 
K. Phi. You are as fond of grief as of your 

Const. Grief fills the room up of my absent 

Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, 
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, 
Remembers^ me of all his gracious parts, 
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; 
Then, have I reason to be fond of grief? 
Fare you well : had you such a loss as I, 
I could give better comfort than you do. — loo 
I will not keep this form^<^ upon my head, 

[Tears off her hettd-dress. 
When there is such disorder in my wit 
O Lord ! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son! 
My life, my joy, my food, my all the workl ! 
My widow-comfort, and my sorrows' cure I 

K. Phi. I fear some outrage,^^ and I '11 follow 

her. [Exit. 

Leip. There *s nothing in this world can make 

me joy: 
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale 
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man; 
QAnd bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweets 

world's taste, no 

« Sttepire, breathe. ' Gracious, full of grace, lovely. 

• Vou hold too heinous a respect o/ffrief, i.e. your dwell- 
ing BO much on your grief is tinfuL 

* Remembers, reminds. 

>• This form, i.e. her head-dress. 
" Outrage, i.e. outbreak of rage or fury. 


ACT III. SoeoB i. 


ACT UI. SouM i. 

^That it yields uought but shame and bitter- 
^ ness. "} 111 

< Paiid. [Before the curing of a strong 
5 disease, 

< Even in the instant of repair and health, 
^The fit is strongest; evils, that take leave, 
<0n their departure most of all show^ evil:] 

What have you lost by losing of this day? 
Lew, Ail days of glory, joy and happiness. 
ParuL li you had won it, certainly you 
No, no; when Fortune means to men most 
good, 119 

She looks upon them with a threatening eye. 
T is strange to think how much King John 

hath lost 
In this which he accounts so clearly won: 
Are not you griev'd that Arthur is his pri- 
Lew. As heartily as he is glad be hath him. 
PancL Your muid is all as youthful as your 
Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit; 
For even the breath of what I mean to speak 
Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little 

Out of the path which shall directly lead 
Thy foot to England's throne; and therefore 
mark. iso 

John hath seized Arthur; and it cannot be 
That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's 

The misplac'd' John should entertain one hour, 
One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest 
A sceptre snatch'd with an unruly hand 
Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd ; 
And he that stands upon a slippery place 
Makes nice of* no vile hold to stay him up: 
That John may stand, then Arthur needs 

must fall ; 
So be it, for it cannot be but so. 140 

Lew, But what shall I gain by young Ar- 
thur's fall? 
Pand. You, in the right of Lady Blanch your 
May then make all the claim that Arthur did. 

* Show, appear. 

^ Rub, ob«tacle: a term In the game of bowla, 
> Mi*plac'd, asurpinip 

* Makes niu <^, acruples at 


Lew. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur 

did. lu 

ParuL Ho jir green you are and fredi in this 

old work! ! 

John lays you^ plots; the times coDspire with 

[ For he that steeps his safety in true blood* >[ 
Shall find but bloody safety and untrue. "2 
This act, so evilly bom, shall cool the hearth 
Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal, loO 
That none so small advantage shall step forth 
To check his reign, but they will cherish it; 
[ No natural exhalation in the sky. 
No scope ^ of nature, no distemper'd day, 
No common wind, no customed event, 
But they will pluck away his natural cause, 
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs, ^ 
Abortives,^ presages, and tongues of heaven, ' 
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John. 3 
Lew. May be he will not touch young Ar- 
thur's life, i» 
But hold himself safe in his prisonment' 
PancL O, sir, when he shall hear of your 
If that young Arthur be not gone already. 
Even at that news he dies; and then the 

Of all his })eople shall revolt from him. 
And kiss the lips of unacquainted change. 
And pick strong matter of^^ revolt and 

Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John. 
[Methinks I see this hurly^^ all on foot: 
And, O, what better matter breeds for yoa v^ 
Than I have nam'd!]— The bastard Fkalcou 

Is now in England, ransacking the church, 
Offending charity : if but a dozen French 
Were there in arms, they would be as a call 
To train ten thousand &iglish to their aide, 
Or as a little snow, tumbled about, 
Anon becomes a mountain. O noble DanphiOt 
Go with me to the king: — *t is wondeifol 

* Lay$ you, ie. lays for you. 
« Trtie blood, le. the blood of one who haa the kgi^ 

mate claim. ' Seope, free effort 

'Abortiveg, monatroaitlea. 

• In his prisonment, is. in tlie faet ttel he (Aitkar)i* 
in prison. 

>* Strong tnaUsr nf, i,e. itrong reaaon for. 
II Uurly, tumult. 

ACT UI. anae 4. 


▲CT IV. Soena 1. 

What may be wrought out of their discon- 
Now that their souls are topfull of offence: lao 
For England go: — I will whet on the king. 

Lew. Strong reasons make strong actions: 
let us go: 
If you say ay, the king will not say no. 



ScBTK L England. A room in a couHe 
[? Northampton]. 

Enimr Hdbbbt Ofnd 

Hub. Heat me these irons hot; and look 
thou stand 
Within the arras: when I strike my foot 
Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth, 
And bind the boy which' you shall find with 

Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and 
First Exec. I hope your warrant will bear 

out the deed. 
Huh. Unmanly scruples I fear not you: look 

[Exeunt Executioners. 
Young lad, come forth; I have to say' with 

Enter Arthur. 

ArtA. Grood morrow, Hubert 

Hvh. Good morrow, Kttle prince. 

Arth. As little prince, having so great a 

title 10 

To be more' prince, as may be. — You are sad. 

Huh. Indeed, I have been merrier. 

ArtA. Mercy on me! 

Methinks no body should be sad but I: 
Yet, I remember, when I was in France, 
Young gentlemen would be as sad as night. 
Only for wantonness. By my Christendom,^ 
So I were out of prison, and kept sheep, 
I should be merry as the day is long ; 
And so I would be here, but that I doubt ^ 
My uncle practises* more harm to me: 20 

He is afraid of me and I of him : 

I Whidi = whom. s To toy, to ipeak. 

s Men s graitor. * CkHattmdmm, i«. ChrktfMiity. 

« Doubt, tm^^cL * Frmctitm, ploti. 

Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son? 
No, indeed, is't not; and I would to heaven 
I were your son, so you would love me, Hu- 
Hub. [Ande] If I talk to him, with his in- 
nocent prate ^ 
He will awake my mercy which lies dead : 
Therefore I will be sudden and disj)atch. 
Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale 
In sooth, I would you were a little sick, 
That I might sit all night and watch with 
you : 3a 

I warrant I love you more than you do me. 
Hub. [Agide] His words do tike possession 
of my bosom. — 
Read here, young Arthur. [Shoiring a paper. 
[Adde] How now, foolish rheum !^ 
Turning dispiteous* torture out of door! 
I must be brief, lest resi)Iution drop 
Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears. — 
Can you not read it? is it not fair writ? 

Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect: 
Must you with hot irons biun out both mine 
Huh. Young boy, I must 
Arth. And will you? 

Huh. And I will. 40 

Arth. Have you the heart? When your 
head did but ache, 
I knit my handkercher** about your brows, — 
The best I had, a princess wrought it me, — 
And I did never ask it you again; 
And with my hand at midnight held your 

And like the watchful minutes to the hour, 
Still and anon cheer'd up the heavy time, 

' Prate, pratUe. " Rheum, inoigture= tears. 

* Ditpiteout, pitlleaa. 

>* Handkercher, the old qyelUag of handkerthief. 


ACT IV. Scene 1. 


ACT IV. SoeDo 1. 

Saying, "What lack youl" and "Where lies 

your grief?" 
Or " What good love* may I perform for you?" 
Many a poor man's son would have lien still, w 
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you ; 
But you at your sick service had a prince. 
Nay, you may think my love was crafty love 
And call it cunning: — do, an if you will: 
If heaven be pleas'd that you must use me ill, 
Why then you must — Will you put out mine 

These eyes that never did, nor never shall, 
So much as frown on you. 

Hub. I have sworn to do it; 

And with hot irons must I bum them out. 
Arth. Ah, none but in this iron age would 

do it ! eo 

The iron of itself, though heat reil-hot, 
Approaching near these eyes, would drink my 

And quench his fiery indignation 
Even in the water of mine innocence; 
jC Nay, after that, consimie away in rust, 
■[ But for containing fire to harm mine eye. ] 
Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd 

An if an angel should have come to me. 
And told me Hubert should put out mine 

I would not have believ'd him; — no tongue 

but Hubert's — 70 

Hiib. Come forth. [Stamps. 

Re-enter Attendants^ with a cordy ironSy d'c. 

Do as I bid you do. 
Art/t. O, save me, Hubert, save mel my 
eyes are out 
Even with the fierce looks of these bloody 
Huh. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him 

Artk. Alas, what need you be so boist'rous- 
rough ? 
I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still. 
For heaven sake, Hubert, let me not be bound! 
Nay, hear me, Hubert! — drive these men 

And I will sit as quiet as a lamb; 80 

> Love, act of love. 

I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word. 
Nor look upon the iron anger ly: 82 

Thrust but these men away, and I '11 forgive 

Whatever torment you do put me to. 
Hub. Go, stand within; let me alone with 

First Exec. 1 am best pleased to be from 
such a deed. [Exeunt AttendatUs. 

Arth. Alas, I then have chid away my 
friend ! 
He hath a stem look, but a gentle heart : — 
Let him come back, that his compassion may 
Give life to yours. 
Huh. Come, boy, prepare yourself. » 

Arth. Is there no remedy? 
Huh. None, but to lose your eyea 

Arth. O heaven! — that there were but a 
mote in yours, 
A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair, 
Any annoyance in that precious sense ! 
Then feeling what small things are boisterous^ 

Your vile intent must needs seem horrible. 
Huh. Is this your promise ? go to, hold your 

Arth. [ Hubert, the utterance of a brace of 
Must needs want pleading for a pair oi eyes:] 
Let me not hold my tongue, — let me not, Ha- 
bert; lOO 

Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue, 
So I may keep mine eyes: O, spare mine eyes, 
Though to no use but still to Ipok on you I— 
Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold 
And would not harm me. 
H^ib. I can heat it, boy. 

Arth. No, in good sooth; the fire is dead 
with grief, 
[Being create for comfort, to be us'd^ 
In undeserv'd extremes: see else yourself; 
There is no malice in this burning coal ; ] 
The breath of heaven has blown his spirit 
out no 

And strew'd repentant ashes on his head. 
Huh. But with my breath I can revive it, 

s Boitterous, troablesome. violently dlttarbing 
* To be tu'd, U. that it should be aied. 



ACT IV. Sang 1. 

And glow with shiime of your proceedings, 

[ Nay, it perchance will sparkle in your eyea; 
Aiid like a dog that is compell'd to fight, 
. Snatch at his master that doth taire him on. * 
All things that you should use to do me wrong 

Deny their office: only you do lack ii»> 

That mercy which fierce fire and iron ertends, ! 
Creatures of note for mercy- lackii^ UBe&J ^ 
HjA. [Well, see to live;^ I wUI not touch' 
thine eye 
For all the treasure that thine uncle owes: 
[ Yet am I sworn and I did purpose, boy, ' 
With this same very iron to bum them out |]i 

Artli. O, now you look like Hubert! all this 

You were di^uis'd. 

jf/uA. Peace; no more. Adieu. 

Your uncle must not know but you are dead j 
I 'II fill these dogged spies with false reports; 
And, pretty child, sleep doubtless' and se- 

That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world. 
Will not offend thee. 

1 Tarn Mm on, ut him on. 

M Irom Hupldon or fur. 

Arth. O heaven ! I thank you, Hubert. 

H^ih. Silence; no more: go closely' in with me: 

Much danger do I undergo for thee. [Exeunt. 

ScESE II. Kiiiff Jobn'i palaoe. 

K. John. Here once again we sit, once agam 
And look'd upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes. 

ACT IV. Soene 2. 


ACT IV. SoeiM t 

Pent. This once again, but that your high- 

neas pieas'd, s 

Waa once superfluous:^ you were crown'd 

And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd oflf, 
The faiths of men ne'er stained with revolt; 
Fresh expectation troubled not the land 
With any long'd-for change or better state. 
Sal. Therefore, to be possess'd with double 
To guard 2 a title that was rich before, lO 

To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 
To throw a perfume on the violet, 
\ [ To smooth the ice, or add another hue 
^ Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light 
\ To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to gar- 
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess. 
Pent. But that your royal pleasure must be 
This act is as an ancient tale new told. 
And in the last repeating troublesome. 
Being urged at a time unseasonable. 20 

^ ^Sal. In this the Antique and well noted 
{ face 

Of plain old form is much disfigiured; 
And, like a shifted wind unto a sail, 
It makes the course of thoughts to fetch 
s about;' 
' Startles and frights consideration; 
< Makes sound opinion sick, and truth sus- 
^ pected, 

\ For putting on so new a fashion'd robe. 
' Pern. When workmen strive to do better 

than well, 
'They do confound* their skill in covetous- 
; neHs;** 

'And oftentimes excusing of a fault so 

; Doth make the fault the worse by the ex- 
' cuae, — 

(As patches set upon a little breach 
^ Discredit more in hiding of the fault* 
', Than did the fault before it was so patch'd. ] 
Sal. To this effect, before you were new 

» Once ntperjlnous, i.e. once too many. 

2 Guard, to ornament with fringe or trimmings. 

* To fetch abmU, to veer roancL 

* Coi\found, destroy. 

* Cocetotunefitt. t.^.- eagerness to excel. 
« Fault, blemish, defect. 


We breath'd our counsel : but it pleas'd your 

To overbear it; [ and we are all well pleas'd, 
Since all and every part of what we would 
Doth make a stand at what your highness 
K. John. Some reasons of this double coro- 
nation M 
I have possess'd you with, and think them 

And more, more strong than less — so is my 

fear — 
I shall indue ^ you with: meantime but ask 
What you would have refoim'd that is not 

And well shall you perceive how willingly 
I will both hear and grant you your requests. 
Pem, Then I — as one that am the tongue 
of these, 
To sound' the purposes of all their hearts. 
Both for myself and them, but, chief of all, 
Your safety, for the which myself and them 
Bend their best studies — heartily request n 
Th* enfranchisement of Arthur; whose re- 
Doth move the murmuring lips of disconteut 
[ To break into this dangerous argument,— 
If what in rest* you have in right you hold. 
Why, then, your fears — which, as they say, at- 
The steps of wrong — should move you to mew 

Tour tender kinsman, and to choke his days 
With barbarous ignorance, and deny bis 

The rich advantage of good exercise?*^ » 
That the time's enemies may not have this 
To grace occasions, ] let it be our suit, 
That you have bid us ask, his liberty; 
[ Which for our goods ^* we do no further ask 
Than whereupon our weal, on you depending, 
Counts it your weal he have his liberty. ] 
K. John. Let it be so: I do commit bii 
To your direction. 

7 Indtue, supply. 

* To »ound, to give utterance to. 

• In rest, in peace. 
*• ExerdMe, study. 

i» For our goodi, i.e. for our own good. 

ACT IV. Serae S. 


ACT IV. Sc«ii« 2. 

Enter Hubert. King John takes him cuide. 

Habert) what news with jou? 
Fern. Thia is the man should do the blood v 
He showed his warrant to a friend of mine: 70 
The image of a wicked heinous fault 
Lives in his eye; that close ^ asp^ of his 
Does show the mood of a much troubled breast ; 
And I do fearfully believe 'tis done, 
VihAt we so feared he had a charge to do. 

Sal. The colour of the king doth come and go 
Between his purpose and his conscience, 
Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set:' 
;[ His passion is so ripe, it needs must break. 
■ Pern. And when it breaks, I fear will issue 
^ thence so 

' The foul corruption of a sweet child's death. 3 
K. John. We cannot hold mortality's strong 
hand: — 
Good lords, although my will to give is living, 
The suit which you demand is gone and dead: 
He tells us Arthur is deceased to-night. 
Sal. Indeed, we fear'd his sickness was past 

Pern. Indeed, we heard how near his death 
he was 
Before the child himself felt he wa« sick: — 
This must be answer'd either here or hence.' 
K, JakrL Why do you bend such solemn 
brows on me? 90 

Think you I bear the shears of destiny? 
Have I commandment on the pulse of life? 

Sal. It is apparent ^ foul play ; and ' t is shame 
That greatness should so grossly offer it: 
So thrive it in your game! and so, farewell 
Pern, Stay yet. Lord Salisbury; I '11 go with 
And find the inheritance of this poor child. 
His little kingdom of a forced grave.' 
[That blood which ow'd® the breadth of all 

this isle, 
; Three foot of it doth hold: — bad world the 
while f] 100 

This must not be thus borne : this will break 

1 Clo$e, referred. > Set, appointed. 

s nenee, i.e. in another world. * Apparent, evident 
* A farced grat€, Cs. a grave to which he had come by 
violent death. * Ow'd, owned. 

To all our sorrows, and ere long I doubt, lot 

[Exeunt Lords. 
K. John. They bum in indignation. I repent : 
There is no sure foundation set on blood, 
No certain life achiev'd by others' death. — 

Enter a Messenger. 

A fearful eye thou hast: where is that blood 
That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks? 
So foul a sky clears not without a storm : 
Pour down thy weather: — how goes all in 

Mess. From France to England. — Never 

such a power no 

For any foreign preparation 
Was levied in the body of a land. 
The copy of your speed is learn 'd by them; 
For when you should be told they do prepare, 
The tidings comes that they are all arriv'd. 
K. John. O, where hath our inteUigence'^ 

been drunk? 
Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's 

That such an army could be drawn* in France, 
And she not hear of it? 

Mess. My liege, her ear 

Is stopp'd with dust; the first of April died 
Your noble mother: and, as I hear, my lord. 
The Lady Constance in a frenzy died 122 

Three days before: but this from rumour's 

I idly^ heard, — if true or false I know not 
K. John. Withhold thy speed, dreadful oc- 
casion ! ^® 
O, make a league with me, till I have pleas'd 
My discontented peers 1 — What ! mother dead ! 
Howwildly,then, walks" my estate in France ! — 
Under whose conduct came those powers of 

France 129 

That thou for truth giv'st out are landed here? 
Mess. Under the Dauphin. 

Enter the Bastard and Peter of Pomfret. 

K. John. Thou hast made me giddy 

With these ill tidings. [To the Bastard. 

Now, what says the world 

' Our inieUigence, ie. those whose duty it was to supply 
us with intelligence. " Drawn, levied. 

* Idly, casually. 1* OecanoHf fortune. 

>i How wildly walks, how ill goes. 


ACT IV. Scene 2 


ACT IV. Scene S. 

To your proceedings? do not seek to stuflf 138 
My head with more ill news, for it is full 
Bast. But if you be afeard to hear the 
Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head. 
K. John. Bear with me, cousin; for I was 
amazed ^ 
Under the tide: but now I breathe again 
A loft ^ the flood, and can give audience 
To any tongue, speak it of what it will. 140 
Bast. How I have sped among the clergy- 
The sums I have collected shall express. 
But as I travell'd hither through the land, 
1 find the people strangely fantasied;^ 
Possess'd with rumours, full of idle dreams. 
Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear: 
And here 's a prophet, that I brought with me 
From forth the streets of Pomfret, whom I 

With many hundreds treading on his heels; 
To whom he sung, in rude harsh-sounding 
rhymes, . 150 

ITiat, ere the next Ascension-day at noon, 
Your highness should deliver up your crown. 
K. John. Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst 

thou so? 
Peter. Foreknowing that the truth will fall 

out so. 
K. John. Hubert, away with him; imprison 
And on that day at noon, whereon he says 
I shair yield up my crown, let him be hang'd. 
Deliver him to safety;* and return. 
For I must use thee. [Exit Hvhert icith Peter. 

O my gentle cousin, 
Hear'st thou the news abroad, who are arriv'd? 
Bast. The French, my lord; men's mouths 
are full of it: I6i 

Besides, I met Lord Bigot and Lord Salisbury, 
With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire. 
And others more, going to seek the grave 
Of Arthur, whom they say is kill'd to-night 
On ybur suggestion. 

K. John. Gentle kinsman, go, 

And thrust thyself into their companies: 
I have a way to win their loves again; 

» Amaz'd, stunned. « Alqft=$!boye. 

« Strangely fantaned, fllled with strange fancies. 
* Safety, safe-keeping. 


Bring them before me. 
Bast. I will seek them out. 

K. John. Nay, but make haste; the better 
foot before. 170 

O, let me have no subjects enemies, 
When adverse foreigners aflfright my towns 
With dreadful pomp of stout invasion ! 
Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels, 
And fly like thought from them to me again. 
Bast. The spirit of the time shall teach me 

K. John. Spoke like a sprightful ^ noble 
gentleman. [Exit Bastard 

[To Messenger^ Go after- him; for he perhaps 

shall need 
Some messenger betwixt me and the peers; 
And be thou he. 
Mess, With all my heart, my liege. i» 


K. John. My mother dead ! 

Re-enter Hubert. 

Huh. My lord, they say five mooi 

seen to-night ;• 
Four fixed, and the fifth did whirl aboat 
The other four in wondrous motion. 
K. John. Five moons! 
Uvh, Old men and beldams in the 
Do prophesy upon it dmigerously: 
Young Arthur's death is common in tkeir 

And when they talk of him, they shake th^ 

And whisper one another in the ear; 
And he that speaks doth gripe the hearer's 

wrist, i» 

Whilst he that hears makes fearful action, 
With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling 

I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thiu, 
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, 
With open mouth swallowing a tailor's new*; 
Who, with his shears and measure in his handf 
Standing on slippers, — which his nimble hast^ 
Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet, — 
Told of a many thousand warlike French 
That were embattailed and rank'd in Kent: 

» Sprightful. full of spirit 
« To-night. i.e. last night. 


Liiother lenn uiiwash'd artifiL'er sni 

'nts off his tale, and Ulki of Arthur's death. 
A". Johii. Why seek'st thou to possess me 
with these feanl 
V'hy urgent thuu so oft young Arthur's death ! 
Iiy haad hath murder'd him: I had a mighty 

'o wieli him d«wl, but thou badst none to kill 

IliA. No bad,' mj lord! why, did you not 

provoke mel 
A'. John. It is the corae of kings, to be at- 
By alaves that take their humours for a war- 
To break within the bloody house of life; no 
And, on the winking of authority, 
To imderetand a law; to know the meaniaj; 

f dniigeroua majesty, wheu pcrchaiice it 
frowuii its 

oiv upon humour' than advis'i! respect' 
Hub. Here is your hand and seal for what 

I did. 
K. Jnhii. O, when the bet account 'twiit 

heaven and earth 
to be made, dien shall this band aiid seal 
'itnesH against us to damnation ! 
Qw oft the sight of means to do ill deeds 
Ake ill deeds done' Hadst not thou been 

A felk>w by the hand of nature markM, in 
Quoted,* aiid sign'd, to do a deed of shame, 
This murder had not corae into my mind: 
But taking not* of thy abhorr'd aspect. 
Finding thee fit for bloody villany, 
Apt, liable' to be emjJoy'd in danger, 
I faintly broke with thee' of Arthur's death; 
And thou, to be endeared to a king. 
Made it no conscience' to destroy a prince. 
H«h. M.J lord, — *3i> 

A'. JoAit. Hadst thon but shook Uiy head, 
or made a pause, 

ilUble. lit 
ID* tcrupl'-. 

lubjcct with 

ACT IV. SeeM 1 


ACT IV. 80BIM 3. 

When I spake darkly what I purposed, 282 
Or tum'd an eye of doubt upon my face, 
As^ bid me tell my tale in express words, 
Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me 

break off. 
And those thy fears might have wrought fears 

in me: 
But thou didst understand me by my signs, 
And didst in signs again parley with sin; 
Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent. 
And consequentfy thy rude hand to act 240 
The deed, which both our tongues held vile to 

Out of my sights and never see me more ! 
My nobles leave me; and my state is brav'd, 
Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign 

Nay, in the body of this fleshly land, 

[Laying his hand upon his breast. 
This kingdom, this conffne of blood and breath, 
Hostility and civil tumult reigns 
Between my conscience and my cousin's 

J/tib. Arm you against your other enemies, 
I'll make a peace between your soul and 

you. 250 

Young Arthur is alive: this hand of mine 
Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand, 
Not painted with the crimson spots of blood. 
Within this bosom never enter'd yet 
The dreadful motion * of a murderous thought; 
And you have slander'd nature in my form, — 
^Vhich, howsoever rude exteriorly, 
la yet the cover of a fairer mind 
Than to be butcher of an innocent child. 
K. Johiu Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee 

to the peers, 2ao 

Throw this rei)ort on their incensed rage, 
And make them tame to their obedience ! 
Forgive the comment that my passion made 
V\yon thy feature; for my rage was blind, 
And foul imaginary eyes of blood 
Presented thee more hideous than thou art 
O, answer not; but to my closet bring 
The angry lords with all expedient^ haste. 
I conjure thee but slowly; nm more fast 


1 i4« = as If. > Motion, iqipulse. 

s Expedient, expeditious. 

Scene III. The same. Before the castle. 

Enter ^ on the italls^ disguised cu a ship- 
boy Arthur. 

Arth. The wall is high, and yet will I leap 

Good ground, be pitiful and hurt me not !— 
There's few or none do know me: if thev 

This ship-boy's semblance hath disguisVl me 

I am afraid; and yet I 'U venture it 
If I get down, and do not break my limlis, 
I '11 find a thousand shifts to get away: 
As good to die and go, as die and stay. 

[Leaps doiCH. 
O me ! my uncle's spirit is in these stones:— 
Heaven take my soul, and England keep my 

bones! [IHfs. 10 

Enter Pembroke, Salisbury, an open letter U 
his hand, and Bigot. 

Sal. Lords, I will meet him* at Saint Ed* 
It is our safety, and we must embrace 
This gentle offer of the perilous time. 

Pern. Who brought that letter from the 


Sal. The Count Melun, a noble lunl d 


Whose private* with me of the Dauf^iu's love 

Is much more general than these lines import 

Big. To-morrow morning let us meet LiiUi 

Sal. Or rather then set forward ; for 't will 1« 
Two long days' journey, lords, or ere we meet 

Enter the Bastard. 

Bast. Once more to-day well met, disteni- 
|)er'd* lonlsl a 

The king by me requests your presence stniigbt 
Sal. The king hath dispossess'd himself d 
We will not line his thin bestained cloak 
With our jjure honours, nor attend the foot 

4 Uiin, i.e. the Dauphin. 

* /'rtraf« = priviite coininanication. 

^ Duftemper'd, disi-outented, out of hnmour. 


lliat leaves the print of blood where'er it 

Betum and tell him so: we know the worsi. 
Bail. Whate'er you think, good words, 1 

think, were best. 
Sai. Our griefs,' and not our mannerH, rea- 

Biot. But there is little reason id your grief ; 
Therefore 'twere reason you had i 

Prm. Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege. 
BaM. T is true, — to hurt his master, do man 

.'ial. This ia the prison ; — what is he lies here? 
[Seeing the body of Arthur, he itoopt to ex- 
amine it : the otheri gather round him. 
I'ein. O death, made proud with pure and 
princely beauty 1 
The earth had not a hole to hide this deed. 
.So/. Murder, as hating what himself hath 

Doth lay it open to urge on revenge. 
Biff. Or, when he doom'd this beauty to a 

Found it too precious-princely for a grave. « 
Hal. Sir Richard, what think you? [have 

you beheld. 
Or have you read or heard I or could you 

Or do you almost think, although you see, 
That you do see? could thought, without this 

Form such another? [Turaing to the otheri\ 

This is the very top. 
Hie height, the crest, or crest unto the crest, 
Of murder's armsi^this is the bloodiest shame. 
The wildest savagery, the vilcet stroke, 
Tliat ever wall-ey'd* wrath or staring rage 
Presented to the tears of soft remorse.' m . 

Q Pem. All murders past do stand excus'd 
in this: 
And this, so sole and so unmatchable, 
Shall give a holiness, a purity, 
To tJie yet unbegotten sin of times; 
And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest, 
Exampled by this heinous spectacle, j 

Ilatt. It is a damned and a bloody work; 

' JUnwm, iMtr. 

Hie graceless action of a heavy hand,— 
If that it be the work of any hand. 

S(U. If that it be the work of any hand 1- 
We had a kind of light what would ensue; 
It is the shameful work of Hubert's hand; 

ACT IV. 8ceii< S. 


ACT IV. Scene 1 

The practice^ and the purpose of the king: — 
From whose obedience I forbid my soul, 64 

[He hieeU beside Arthur's hodif. 
Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life, 
And breathing to his^ breathless excellence 
The incense of a vow, a holy vow, 
Never to taste the pleasures of the world, 
Never to be infected with delight. 
Nor conversant with ease and idleness, 70 
Till I have set a glory to this hand, 
By giving it the worship of revenge. 
Pern. ) Our souls religiously confirm thy 
Big. ) words. [They both hied: 

and then all three rise, 

Etiter Hubert. 

ffuh. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking 
Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you. 
SaL O, he is bold and blushes not at death. 
Avauut, thou hateful villain, get thee gone ! 
HiU>. I am no villain. 

Sal. Must I rob the law? 

[Drafcing his sword. 
Bait, Your sword is bright, sir; put it up 


Sal. Not till I sheathe it in a murderer's 

skin. 80 

Hub. Stand back, Lord Salisbury, — stand 

back, I say; 

By heaven, I think my sword 's as sharp as 

I would not have yon, lord, forget yourself. 
Nor tempt the danger of my tme defence; 
Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget 
Your worth, yxmr gntiitDem^ and nobility. 
Big. Out, dunghill! dar'it tbou brave a 

Hub, Not for my life: but yet I dara defend 
My innocent life against an emperor. 
Sal. ITiou art a murderer. 
Hub. Do not prove me so; 90 

Yet^ I am none: whose tongue soe'er q)eaks 

Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies. 
Pern. Cut him to pieces. 
Bast. Keep the peace, I say. 

J Practice, device, plot. 
> Hit. ic Arthur's 



Sal. Stand by,^ or I shall gall you, Faulcon- 
bridge. H 

Bast. Thou wert better gall the devil, Salis- 
If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot, 
Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame, 
I '11 strike thee dead. Put up thy sword be- 

Or I 'U so maul you and your toasting-iron, 
That you shall think the devil is come from 
helL 100 

Big. What wilt thou do, renowned Fauloon- 
Second a villain and a murderer? 
Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none. 
Big. Who kill'd this prince? 

[Pointing to Arthur's bodif. 
Hub. [Seeing the body for the ivrst time: ht 
rushes up to it — then bursts into tean] 
T is not an hour since I left him well : 
I honour'd him, I lov'd him; and will weep 
My date of life out for his sweet life's loss. 
Sal. Trust not those cunning waters of bis 
For villany is not without such rheum; 
And he, long traded in it,^ makes it seem 
Like rivers of remorse* and innocency. no 
Away with me, all you whose souls abhor 
Th' uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house; 
For I am stifled with this smell of sin. 
Big. Away toward Bury, to the Dauphin 

there ! 
Pern. There, tell the king, he may inquire 
us out [Exeunt Lonk 

Bast. Here *s a good world I — Knew you of 
this fair work ? 
Beyond the infinite and boundkes reach 
Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death, 
Art thou damn'd, Hubert 
Hub. Do but hear me, sir.- 

Bast. Ha! I '11 tell thee what; i» 

Thou 'rt damn'd as black — nay, nothing is «* 

Thou art more deep damn'd than Prince I^- 

There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell 
As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this chiiii- 

* Stand by, i.e. itand back. 

* Long traded in it, expert in it, m in a tn4e loaf pn^' 
tiited. * JRemorm, pity. 




ACT V. Hoene 1. 

Hub. Upon my eoul — 
Bast. If thou didst but consent 

To this most cruel act, do but despair; 
And if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread 
That ever spider twisted from her womb 
Will serve to strangle thee ; a rush will be a 

To hang thee on; or wouldst 1Jm>u drown thy- 
self, lao 
Put but a little water in a spoon, 
And it shall be as all the ocean, 
£nough to stifle such a villain up. — 
I do suspect thee very grievously. 

Hub. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought. 
Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath 
Which waa anbounded in this beauteous 

Let hdl want pains enough to torture me ! — 
I left hiM well 
BiuL Go, bear him in thine arms. — 

[H^iberi gouy and taket up the body of 
Arikwr in hi» amu. 
I am amasd, methinks, and loae my way uo 

Among the thorns and dangers of this world. 
How easy dost thou take all England up! 
From forth this morsel of dead royalty, 
The life, the right, and truth of all this realm 
Is fled to heaven; [and England now is left 
To tug and scamble,^ and to part by the 

The unowed* interest of proud-swelling state. 
Now for the bare-pick'd bone of majesty 
Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest, 
And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace:] 150 
Now powers from home and discontents at 

Meet in one line; and vast confusion waits, 
As doth a raven on a sick-fall'n beast. 
The imminent decay of wrested pomp. 
Now happy he whose cloak and cincture' can 
Hold out this tempest — [To Hubert] Bear 

away that child 
And follow me with speed: I 'U to the king: 
A thousand businesses are brief in hand,^ 
And heaven itself doth frown upon the land. 






Scxarx I. [? xVorthampion.'] A roam in 
Kino Jonv^Bpcdaoe, 

Enter King John, Pandulph, icith the drown^ 

and Attendants. 

K. John. Thus have I yielded up into your 
The circle* of my glory. 

Pand. Take again 

[Oiving King John the crown. 
From this my hand, a« heading of the pope, 
Your sovereign greatness and authority. 
K. John. Now keep your holy word: go 
meet the French, 
And from his holiness use all your power ^ 
To stop their marches fore we are inflam'd.^ 

1 SeambU, to wize TiolenUy; or, periiap^ to ttrnggla. 
3 ITwnted^ unowned. * Cincturtt girdle. 

« Art brief in hmnd, nnitl be ipeedUy deepateli'd. 
* CSreU SI crown. 

*And /ram hi$ HMnen, ise., "Use all the power you 
fterire from the Pope." 
' InJUim'd, bomt op, set en lire. 

[Our discontented counties do revolt; 
Our people quarrel with obedience. 
Swearing allegiance and the love of soul lo 
To stranger* blood, to foreign royalty. 
This inundation of mistemper'd' humour 
Rests by you only to be qualified \^^ 
Then pause not; for the present time's so 

Hiat present medicine must be ministei-'d, 
Or overthrow incurable ensues. ] 
Pand. It was my breath that blew this tem- 
pest up, 
Upon your stubborn usage of the pope; 
But since you are a gentle convertite,^^ 
My tongue shall hush again this storm of 
war, 20 

And make fair weather in your blust'ring" 

On this Ascension-day, remember well, 

* Stranger, an adjective here = of strangers. 

» Mistemper'd, disaffected. »» Qualijled, moderated. 

" ConvertiU, convert. " BlvH'ring, turbulent 



Upon your oBtb of service to the pope, la 

Go I to make the French Uy down their amm. 
A'. John. Is this Ascension-d&yl Did not 
the prophet 
Say that before Ascension-day at n«on 
My crown I should give off?' Even go I have: 
I did Huppoae it should be on coniti&int; 
But, heaven be thank'd, it is but voluntary. 

Enter the Bastard. 

Batt. All Kent bath yielded; nothing tbeiv 
holds out » 

But Dover caatle: London hath receiv'd, 
Like a kind boat, the Dauphin and hispowert: 
Your uoblet will not bear you, but are gone 
To offer service to your enemy; 
And wild amazement hurriea up and down 

The little number of your doubtful friends. 
K. John. Would not my lords return to me 

After they heard young Arthur was aiivet 
Bail. They found biiu dead, and cast into 
the Btreetfl; 
An empty caaket, where the jewel of life m 
By Bome damu'd hand was robb'U and ta'en 

K. John. That villain Hubert told me he 

did live. 
Bait. So, on my soul, he did, for aught be 

1 Oin of^gin np. 

But wherefore do you droop? why look »>" 

Govern the motion of a kingly eye: 

Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire; 

Threaten the threat'ner and outfoce ill'' 

Of bra^ng horror: ho shall inferior eyes. ^ 
That borrow their behaviours from the gmt 
Grow great by your example, and put on 
The dauntleae spirit of resolution. 
Away, and glister* like the god of war, 



ACT y. Sorae 2. 

i intendeth to become^ the field : 55 
Idnees and aspiring confidence, 
lall they seek the lion in his den, 
;ht him there? and make him tremble 

not be said ! — Forage,' and run 
displeasure farther from the doors, 00 
pple with him ere he come so nigh. 
in. The l^;ate ci the pope hath been 
i me, 

vre made a happy peace with him; 
bath promis'd to dismiss the powers 
lie Dauphin. 

O inglorious league! 
\f upon the footing of our land,^ 
piflfty orders,^ and make compromise, 
loB, parley, and base truce, 
llimMiye? shall a beardless boy,^ 
ill* lilken wanton, brave our fields, 70 
Ifeiis spirit in a warlike soil, 

el air with colours idly spread, 
^Mck? Let us, my liege, to arms: 
Ite'tke cardinal cannot make yoiu* 

Jb^ let it at least be said 

Irwe had a purpose of defence. 

kk Have thou the ordering of this 

■nt time. 

Ajray, then, with good courage! yet,^ I 


^ may well meet a prouder foe. 


II. year St Edmundsbury, The 
French camp. 

In armsy Lewis, Salisbury, Melun, 
EMBROKB, BiooT, and Soldiers. 

Mj Lord Melun, let this be copied 
p it safe for our remembrance:* 

>m€, to grace. 

,i.e. "go in search of prey." 

ks footing of our land, i.e. itanding apon oar 

* Orden, terms of agreement. 
diem bofff i.e. the Danphin. 
d, pampered. 
11. ie. in ipite of the defection of some of the 

ibranee, to he pronounced as a quadrisyllable. 

Return the precedent^ to these lords again; 
That, having our fair order*® written down, 
Both they and wcj perusing o'er these notes, 
May know wherefore we took the sacrament,^* 
And keep our faiths firm and inviolable. 

Sal, Upon our sides it never shall be broken. 
And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear 
A voluntary zeal, an unurg'd faith 10 

To your proceedings; yet, believe me, prince, 
I am not glad that such a sore of time 
Should seek a plaster by contemned revolt, 
And heal the inveterate canker of one wound 
By making many. [ O, it grieves my soul, ^ 
That I must draw this metal *^ Irom my side \ 
To be a widow-maker I O, and there I 

Where honourable rescue and defence S 

Cries out upon*^ the name of Salisbury I \ 

But such is the infection of the time, 20 S 

That, for the health and ph3rsic of our right, 
We cannot deal but with the very hand 
Of stem injustice and confused wrong. ] 
[Turning to the English lords] And is't not 

pity, O my grieved friends. 
That we, the sons and children of this isle. 
Were bom to see so sad an hour as this; 
Wherein we step after a stranger,** march 
Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up 
Her enemies' ranks, — ^ I must withdraw and 

Upon the spot** of this enforced cause, — 80S 
To grace the gentry of a land remote, s 

And follow unacquainted*^ colours here? ) 
What, here? 3 — ^ nation, that thou couldst' 

remove 1 
That Neptune's arms, who clippeth*^ thee about. 
Would bear thee from the knowledge of thy- 
And grapple** thee unto a pagan shore; 
Where these two Christian armies might com- 
The blood of malice in a vein of league. 
And not to spend it so unneighbourly 1 
Lew, A noble temper dost thou show in 
this; 40 

* Preeedent, rough draft ^^ Order, arrangement. 

11 Sacrament, oath. 1* Metal, sword. 

» Cries out upon, i.e. calls upon to take their side. 

i« Stranger ^torelgntr. 

i> CTjKm the spot, i.e. on account of the disgrace. 

1* Unae(fuainted, strange. 

17 CUppetk, embraceth. 1* Grapple, fasten securely. 


ACT V. Soeoe 2. 


ACT V. Scene 1 

And great affections, wrestling in thy bosom^ 
Doth make an earthquake of nobility. 42 

[ Oy what a noble c(»nbat hast thou fought 
Between compulsion and a brave respect ! ^ 
Let me wipe off this honourable dew, 
That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks: 
My heart hath melted at a lady's tears, 
Being an ordinary inundation; 
But this effusion of such manly drops, 49 

This shower blo¥m up by tempest of the soul, 
Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd 
Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven 
Figured quite o'er with burning meteors. ^ 
Lift up thy bsow, renowned Salisbury, 
And with a great heart heave away this storm: 
[ Commend these waters to those baby eyes 
That never saw the giant world enrag'd; 
Nor met with fortune other than at feasts. 
Full of warm blood, of mirth, of gossiping. "2 
(bme, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand 

as deep 60 

Into the purse of rich prosperity 
As Lewis himself: — so, nobles, shall you all. 
That knit your sinews to the strength oi 

mine. — 
And even there,^ methinks, an angel spake: 
Look, where the holy legate comes apace. 
To give us warrant from the hand of heaven. 
And on our actions set the name of right 
With holy breath. 

Bnter Pandulph, attended. 

Pand, Hail, noble prince of France ! 

The next is this, — King John hath reooncil'd 
Himself to Rome; [ his spirit is come in, 70 
That so stood out against the holy church, 
The great metropolis and see of Rome: ] 
Therefore thy threat'ning colours now wind 

Q And tame the savage spirit of wild war. 
That, like a lion fostered up at hand, 
It may lie gently at the foot of peace. 
And be no further harmful than in show. 3 

Lew. Your grace shall pardon me, I will not 
I am too high>bom to be propertied,' 
To be a secondary at control, 80 

1 Retpect, i«. ooniideration (for thy eomtry). 
9 Thert, le. in what I hxte Jutt Mid 
* Propertied, mmde a property or tool cH 


Or useful serving-man, and instrument, 9i 
To any sovereign state tiirougfaout the world. 
Your breath first kindled the dead coal of win 
Between this chistis'd kingdom and mysetf, 
And brought in matter that should feed this 

And now tis far too huge to be blown out 
With that same weak wind which enkindled it 
You taught me how to know the face of right, 
Acquainted me with interest to^ this land, 
Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart; fo 
And come ye now to tell me John hath made 
His peace with Rome? What is that peace to 

I, by the honour of my marriage-bed. 
After young Arthur, claim this land for mine; 
And, now it is half-conquer'd, must I back 
Because that John hath made his peace mith 

QAm I Rome's slave? What penny hath 

Rome borne. 
What men provided, what munition sent. 
To underprop^ this action? Is 't not I 
That undergo this charge ?® who else but I, i» 
And such as to my claim are liable,^ 
Sweat in this business and maintain this war? 
Have I not heard these islanders shout out 
" Vive le roi !" as I have bank'd* their towns! 
Have I not here the best cards for the game, 
To win this easy match play'd for a crown? 
And shall I now give o'er the yielded set?* 
No, on my soul, it never shall be said. 
Pand. You look but on the outside of this 

Lew. Outside or inside, I will not return iw 
Till my attempt so much be glorified 
As to my ample hope was promised 
Before I drew this gallant head of war,^^ 
And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world. 
To outlook conquest, and to win renown 
Even in the jaws of danger and of death. ] 

[Trumpet sonrnk 
What lusty trumpet thus doth summon usf 

* InUregt to = claim to. * To underprop, to wugfon 

* (^tmrge, expense. ' Liable, aaMKiatcd. 

* Battk'd, sailed by: the town being on the taa*« ^ 
the river. 

* Sft, here = aet, or rubber, of six gaaoa: a t«fs moI ^ 

^^ Drew this ffoUant head qf war, i.e. collected tOfrHiM' 
this army. 

ACT V. 8eeM t. 


ACT V. Sce«e S. 

Enter the Bastard, attetided. 

BaM, Aeoardiiig to the fair play of the 
Let me have andienoe; I am sent to apeak: 
M7 holy lord of Milan, from the king lao 
I come, to learn how joa have dealt for him ; 
And, as yon answer, I do know the mxig^ 
And warrant limited onto my tongoe. 

Pand, Hie Dauphin is too wilful-opposite, 
And will not temporize^ with my entreaties; 
fie flatly says he '11 not lay down his arms. 
BatL ^ all the hlood that ever fury 
The youth says well — Now hear our English 

For thus his royalty doth speak in me. 
He is prepar'd; and reason too he should: iso 
\ [ This apish and unmannerly approach, 
^This hamesa'd' nuisque and unadvised revel, 
; Thi^ nnhair'd' saucineas and boyish troop, 
jThe king doth smile at; and is well prepar'd 
; To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms. 
From out the circle of his territoriea ] 
That hand which had the strength, even at 

your door. 
To cudgel yon and make you take the hatch,^ 
jFTo dive like buckets in concealed wells, 
^To crouch in litter^ of your stable planks, 140 
«To lie like pawns* lock'd up in chests and 

i tranks,3 

To hug with swine, to seek sweet safety out 
In vaults and prisons, and to thrill and shake 
Even at the crying of your nation's crow. 
Thinking his voice an armed Englishman; — 
Shall that victorious hand be feebled here. 
That in your chamben gave you diastisement? 
No: know the gallant monarch is in arms 
And, like an eagk o'er his aery^ towers. 
To souse* annoyance that cOTies near his 
nest. — 150 

''{To the Enffluk hrck.'] [And you degenerate, 

< you ingrate revolts,* 

to trant with. 

• ffamem'd, dad in innoor. 
» Cnkaij^d, i,e , beurdleK 

« Take the hattk, i«. leap oTer the hatf-deor (into the 
IkooseX ' Litter, tke Ktnm on the Hoor. 

' Pawns, i«. artielaa pledged or pawned. 
' Atfjf, bniod. • T9 mmm, to pomce npoa. 

* ilreoll»,.4leeerten. 

You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb 153 1 
Of your dear mother England, blush for shame ; > 
For your own ladies and pale-visag'd maids ^ 
Like Amazons come tripping after drums, \ 
Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change, \ 
llieir neekis^ to lances, and their gentle j 

hearts \ 

To fierce and bloody inclination. ^ i 

Lew. There end thy brave,^^ and turn thy 

face in peace; 
We grant thou canst outscold us: fare thee 

well; 160 

We hold our time too precious to be spent 
With such a brabbler." 

Pand, Give me leave to speak. 

Bast. No, I will speak. 
Lew. We will attend to neither. — 

[To the French soldiers] Strike up the 

drums; and let the tongue of war 
Plead for our interest and our being here. 
Bast. Indeed, your drums, being beaten 

will cry out; 
And so sh^l you, being beaten : do but start 
An echo with the clamour of thy drum, 
And even at hand a drum is ready brac'd 
That shall reverberate all as loud as thine; 
Sound but another, and another shall in 

As loud as thine rattle the welkin's ^^ ear, 
And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder: for at 

hand, — 
Not trusting to this halting legate here, 
VThom he hath us'd rather for sport than 

need, — 
Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits 
A bare-ribb'd deaths whose oflice is this day 
To feast upon whole thousands of the French. 
Lew. Strike up our drums, to find this 

danger out 
Bast. And thou shalt find it, Dau})hiu, do 

not doubt. [Exeutit. iso 

Scene III. The same. The field of battle. 

Alarums. Enter King John and Hubert. 

K. John. How goes the day with us? O, 

tell me, Hubert. 
Hub. Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty? 

10 NUldM, needlea. 
IS BrakbUr, brawler. 

11 Bratft, braTsdo. 

» The weOcin'i, the tkjr'f. 


ACT V. Scene S. 


ACT Y. SoeiM 4. 

K, John, This fever, that hath troubled me 
so long, 
Lies heavy on me; — O, my heart is sick ! 

Enter a Meuenger. 

Mew. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faul- 
Desires your majesty to leave the field, 
And send him word by me which way you go. 
K. John. Tell him, toward Swinstead, to 

the abbey there. 
MeM. Be of good comfort; for the great 
That was expected by the Dauphin here, lo 
Are wreck'd three nights ago on Goodwin 

This news was brought to Richard but even 

The French fight coldly, and retire themselves.* 
K. John. Ay me ! this tyrant fever bums 
me up, 
And will not let me welcome this good news. — 
Set on toward Swinstead : to my litter straight; 
Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint 17 


Scene IV. Another part of the field. 

E/iter Salisburt, Pembroke, and Bigot. 

Sal. I did not think the king so stor'd^ with 

Fern. Up once again; put spirit in the 
If they miscarry, we miscarry too. 

Sal. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge, 
In spite of spite, alone upholds the day. 
Fern. They say King John sore sick hath 
left the field. 

Enter'M.ELuy, wounded. 

Mel. Lead me to the revolts^ of England 

Sal. When we were happy we had other 

Feni. It is the Count Melun. 
Sal. Wounded to death. 

I Supply, reinforcements. 

s JUtire thenuelvei, retreat. * Stored, supplied. 

* The revolti, is. the deserters: the lords who h«d re- 
volted against King John, and Joined the French. 


MeL Fly, noble English, you are bought 
and sold; 10 

Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, 
And welcome home again discarded faith 
Seek out King John, and fall before his feet; 
For if the French be lords of this loud day, 
He^ means to recompense the pains you take 
By cutting off your heads: thus hath he sworn. 
And I with hun, and many moe* with me, 
Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury; 
Even on that altar where we swore to you 
Dear amity and everlasting love. » 

Sal. May this be possible? may this be true ^ 
Melun. Have I not hideous death withiu 
my view, 
[Eetaining but a quantity^ of life. 
Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax 
Besolveth^ from his figure 'gainst the fire?] 
What in the world should make me now de- 
Q Since I must lose the use^ of all deceit? 
Why should I, then, be false, since it is true 
That I must die here and live hence ^^ by 

I say again, if Lewis do win the day, s^' 

He is forsworn, if e'er those eyes of yours 
Behold another day break in the east: 
Q But even this night, — whose black contagious 

Already smokes about the burning crest 
Of the old, feeble and day- wearied sun,— 
Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire. 
Paying the fine of rated " treachery. 
Even with a treacherous fine of all your live^ 
If Lewis by your assistance win the day. ] ^, 
Commend me to one Hubert with your king: 
The love of him, — and this respect ^^ besides, 
For that my grandsire was an Englishman,— 
Awakes my conscience to confess all thia 
In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence 
From forth the noise and rumour** of the fiekl: 
Where I may think the remnant of my 

In peace, and part this body and my soul 
With contemplation and devout desires. 

* He, i.e. Lewis. • Moe, more. 
' Qttantitif, i.e. small portion. 

* Retolveth, dlssolreth. * Vm, adT»nt«f& 

10 Hence, i.e. In another world. 11 RaUd, spiirsiMd- 
IS Reepeet, consideration, i* Rumour, confosed v^ 

ACT V. Soeo0 4. 


ACT V. Soene 6. 

Sal. We do believe thee: and beshrew my 

But I do love the favour* and the form so 
Of this most fair occasion, by the which 
We will imtread the steps of damned flight, 
And, like a bated and retired flood, 
Leaving our rankness^ and irregular course, 
Stoop low within those bounds we have o'er- 

And calmly run on in obedience 
Even to our ocean, to our great Ring John. — 
My arm shall give thee help to bear thee 

For I do see the cruel pangs of death 
Right in thine eye. Away, my friends 1 New 

flight; . 60 

And happy newness, that intends old right 

[Exeunt, leading of Melun. 

C Scene V. The French camp. 

Enter Lewis and his train. 

Lew. The sun of heaven methought was 
loath to set, 

\ But sta^-'d and made the western welkin* blush, 

/When English measure backward their own 

i ground 

\ In faint retire. * O, bravely came we off, 
WTien with a volley of our needless shot, 
After such bloody toil, we bid good night; 
And wound our tott'ring* colours clearly^ up. 
Last in the field, and almost lords of it ! 

Enter a Messenger. 

Mess. Where is my prince, the Dauphin? 
Lev:. Here: what news? 

Mess. The Count Melun is slain; the Eng- 
lish lords, 10 
By his persuasion, are again fall'n off, 
And your supply," which you have wish'd so 

Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin Sands. 
Lew. Ah, foul shrewd news I beshrew thy 
very heart ! 

I Favour^ look. s JUtntness, ezceaa. 

• O'erlooli^dt i.e. orerborne. 

4 Welkin, sky. • Retire, retreat. 

• Totfring » tfttterad. Some make it = waving. 
' CUaHy, completely, or. perhaps, ttainleaely. 

• Supply, reinforoeraente. 

I did not think to be so sad to-night 15 

As this hath made me. — Who was he, that 

King John did fly, an hour or two before 
The stumbling night ^ did part our weary 
Mess. Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord. 
Lew. Well; keep good quarter*® and good 
care to-night: 20 

The day shall not be up so soon as I, 
To try the fair adventure of to-morrow. 

\Exeunt. ^ 

Scene VI. An open place near Swinstead 
Abbey. Nvght-time. 

Enter, severallyy the Bastard and Hubert. 

Hvh. Who 's there ? speak, ho ! speak quickly, 

or I shoot 
Bast. A friend. — What art thou? 
Hub. Of the part of England. 

Bast. Whither dost thou go? 
Hub. What's that to thee? 
Bast. Why may not I demand 

Of thine affairs, as well as thou of mine? 
Hubert, I think? 

Hub. Thou hast a perfect thought: 

I will, upon all hazards, well believe 
Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue 

so well. 
Who art thou? 

BaM. Who thou wilt: and if thou please, 
Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think 
I come one way of the Plantagenets. 11 

Huh. Unkind remembrance ! thou and end- 
less night 
Have done me shame: — brave soldier, pardon 

That any accent, breaking from thy tongue. 
Should scape the true acquaintance of mine 
Bast. Come, come; sans compliment, what 

news abroad? 
Hub. Why, here walk I, in the black brow 
of night. 
To find you out 

Bast. Brief, then; and what 's the news? 

* The etumbUng night, i.e. the night which makee one 
>o Keep good quarter, i, e. keep your quarten well guarded. 


ACT V. SoeM «. 


ACT V. ^M 7. 

Ih(h, O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the 
Black, fearful, comfortless and horrible. 20 
Bast, Show me the very wound of this ill 
I am no woman, I '11 not swound ^ at it. 
Hid). The king, I fear« is poison'd by a 
I left him almost 8|>eechleaB; and broke out 
To acquaint you with this evil, that you 

The better arm you to the sudden time, 
Than if you had at leisure known of thi& 
B<ut. How did he take it? who did taste to 

Hub. A monk, I tell you; a resolved ^ villain, 
Whose bowels suddenly burst out: the king 
Yet speaks, and peradventure may recover. 31 
Bast. Who didst thou leave to tend his ma- 
HtLb. Why, know you not the lords are all 
come back. 
And brought Prince Henry in their company? 
At whose request the king hath pardou'd 

And they are all about his majesty. 

Bagt. Withhold thine indignation, mighty 
And tempt us not to bear above our power ! — 
I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my power this 

Passing these flats, are taken by the tide; 40 
These Lincoln Washes have devoured them; 
Myself, well mounted, hardly have escap'd. 
Away, before! conduct me to the king; 
I doubt ^ he will be dea/i or ere I come. 


Scene VII. The orchard of Strirutead Abbey. 

Enter Prince Henry, Salisbury, and Bigot. 

P. Hen. It is too late: the life of all his 
Is touch'd corruptibly;* and his pure brain, 
Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling- 

1 Swound. iwoon. * Removed, resolute. 

s Doubt, fear. 

* CorruptStljf, i.e. lo m to be cormpted. 


Doth by the idle comments that it makes 4 
Foretell the ending of mortality. 

Enter Pbxbrokb. 

Pern, His highness yet doth speak, and 

holds belief 
That, being brought into the open air, 
It would allay the burning quality 
Of that fell poison which aaBKuleth him. 
P, Hen, Let him be brought into the ordianl 

here. — M 

Doth he still rage? [Esii J^/ifL 

Penu He is more patient 

Than when you left him; even now lit 
P. Hen. [O vanity of sickness! 

In their continuance, will not feel 


Death, having pre/d iqwn the outwaid p>i^( 
Leaves them invisible, and his m»gb it MW 
Against the mind, the whidi he pridai aad 

With many legions of strange fnnttiikM^ 
Which, in their throng and preee to lligt k^l 

Confound themselves.] Tie etno^ iM| 

death should sing. — 9 

I am the cygnet to this pale faint svnim 
Who chants a doleful hymn to hie 
And, from the organ-pipe of frailty^ 
His soiU and body to their lasting 
Sal. Be of good comfort, prince; for yoa are 

To set a form upon that indigest^ 
Which he hath left so shapeless and so nide. 

Re-enter BiooT, with AttendantSj carryiitij 
Kino John in a chair. 

K. John. Ay, marry, now my soul hath 
It would not out at windows nor at doors. 
There is so hot a summer in my bosom, ^ 
That all my bowels crumble up to dust: 
I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen 
Upon a parchment; and against this fire 
Do I shrink up. 

P. Hen. How fares your majesty? 

A Indigegt, a shapelen mtM; chaot. 


A". John. PoisMi'd, — ill fare; — dead, foraoolc, 
cast off: U 

od Done of you will bid the winter come, 
o thnist his icy fingers in m j maw ; ' 
or let my kingdom's rivers take their course 
hrough my fauni'd bostnn, nor entreat the 

o make hia bleak wiuds kiae my pttiched 

lipe, 4" 

And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you 
much, .1 

I beg coW comfort; and yoo are bo strait,- 
And BO ingraleful, you deny me that 
P. Hm. O that there were some virtoe iu 
my tears, 
That might relieve you I 

K. John. The ealt in them is hot. 

Within me is a hell; and there the poison 

, as a tiend, confin'd to tyrannize a 

<i nnreprievaUe coademned Uood. 

Enter iht Bastard. 
BaM. 0, I am icalded with my violent 

ud spleen^ of ^>eed to see your majes^! M 
K, John. cousin, thou art come to set* 

le tackle of my beart is crack'd and bum'd; 
nd all the sbrouda, wherewith my life should 

Are turned to one thread, one little hair: 
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, 
Which holds but till Uiy news be uttered; 
And then all this thou seeit is but a clod. 
And module' of confounded royalty. 
Batt. The Dauphin is preparing hither- 

Where heaven He knows' how we shall 

For in a night the best part of my power, 
Ab I upon' advantage did remove, 
Were iu the Waahes all unwarily 

ACT V. Scene 7. 


ACT V. Soene 

Devoured by the unexpected flood 64 

[King John dies. 
Sal, You breathe these dead news in as 
dead an ear. — 
My liege ! my lord ! — but now a king, — now 
F. Hen. Even so must I run on, and even 
so stop. 
What surety of the world, what hope, what 

When this was now a king, and now is clay? 
Bast. Art thou gone so? I do but stay be- 
hind 70 
To do the office for thee of revenge, 
And then my soul shall wait on thee to 

As it on earth hath been thy servant stilL — 
|Q7\> the revolted Lords] Now, now, you stars 
) that move in your right spheres, 
; Where be your powers? show now your 
) mended faiths, 
I And instantly return with me again, 
»To push destruction and perpetual shame 
' Out of the weak door of our fainting land. 
Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be 


The Dauphin rages at our very heels. so 

Sal. It seems you know not, then, so much 
as we: 
The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest. 
Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin, 
And brings from him such offers of our peace 
As we with honour and respect may take, 
With purpose presently to leave this war. 

Bast. He will the rather do it when he sees 
: Ourselves well sinewed to our defence. 
Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already; 


For many carriages he hath dispatch'd 90' 
To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel! 
To the disposing of the cardinal: i 

With whom yourself, myself, and other, 
lords, ) 

If you think meet, this afternoon will post ; 
To consummate this business happily. \ 

Bast. Let it be so: and you, my iioblej 

prince, j 

With other princes that may best be spar'd, ^ 

Shall wait upon your father's funeral 3 • 

P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be in- 
For so he will'd it 

BaM. Thither shall it then: loo 

And happily may your sweet self put on 
The lineal state and glory of the land ! 
To whom, with all submission, on my knee, 
I do bequeath my faithful services 
And true subjection everlastingly. 

Sal. And the like tender of our love we 
To rest without a spot for evermore. 

P. Hen. I have a kind soul that would give 
you thanks. 
And knows not how to do it but witli teara 

Bast. O, let us pay the time but needful 
woe, iM 

Since it hath been beforehand with our gnefsL- 
This England never did, nor never shall, 
lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, 
But when it first did help to wound itself. 
Now these her princes are come home again* 
Oome the three comers of the world in arms, 
And we shall shock them. Nought shall make 

us rue. 
If England to itself do rest but true. [ExevtU. 


6 ' 3 > 4 6 1 














iE^-i^^^^|jn ijW^y 





' ^ 

-^" .# --?.T1"\^; ,-^'- 1 y--7i 1 

. 1 


'flUim, th* CIdMt, 

nnuiiwd LACKLAITD, wu UurooDgntof thd 
HcDTT IL br Eleuor fall wita. Itachm o( 
AqoHaliMX Th< Dtlin' foiu toni wen: 
bo died In IIM, and wu burled 

al Keidlng <m« Hollnihed, vol. li. p. lis); Henrj. who 
mauled Uaifiret, daughter of Lewli VII., and died ot a 
Feier at a Tillage near Llmosea: Richard C«Dr>de'LloD: 
aeotlnj, the hniband at Comtince and fathErof Arthur, 
who ma killed In • lonmanient at Farli, IIM. JohnwH 
bomlies^ In 1186 he wu aent over ai ■onmor ol lr«- 

DramatU Persu.i»). 


Dnuiuui* Penuiur. 

land, but recalled after nine months. Juhn does not 

appear to have joined his brothers in their rebellion 

against their father until 1188. Early next year, peace 

being condaded between Henry II. and Philip Augnstaa 

of France, a list of barons who had joined the French 

king was at Henry's request handed to him. The rtrj 

first that his eye fell upon was that of his youngest and 

favourite son, John, the discovery of whose treachery 

broke his father's heart. On June 6th of that same year 

Henry II. died, and was succeeded by Richard Coeur-de- 

Lion. John appears to have been as faithless to his brothw 

as to his father, for he was always intriguing against 

him. As early as 1190. when Richard was absent at the 

Crusades, John had resolved to seize the throne on the 

earliest opportunity. On the death of Ccenr-de-Uon, in 

1190, he immediately declared himself heir to the throne, 

in spite of the undoubted right of Arthur, the son of his 

elder brother, Geoffrey. It was pretended that Richard 

on his deathbed had declared John his succMSor, and 

heir to one -third of his property. It is to this that 

Queen Eleanor alludes, when she tells Constance (it 1. 191, 


Thou unadvised icoid. I can produce 

A will that ban the title of thy son. 

John reigned from 1199 to 1216, and died in the forty- 
ninth year of his age. John was married first (in 1180) to 
Isabel, or Havisia, as some of the chroniclers call her, 
daughter and heiress of the Earl of Gloucester, by whom 
he had no issue. In 1201 he married Isabella, daughter of 
Aymar, Count of Augouldme, she being at that time pri- 
vately espoused to Hugh le Brun,Count de la Marche. She 
1x»re him three sons and three daughters. Henry, the eldest 
son, alone figures in this play. Four years after John's 
death she married her old love, the Count de La Marche. 

1. Prince Henrt was bom October Ist, 1206. He was 
therefore just ten years old when, on October 26th, 1216, 
he was crowned king; the Earl of Pembroke being chosen 
as protector. He married Eleanor, daughter of Raymond 
C« >nnt of Provence, in 1236; and by her was father, amongst 
other children, of Edward I., and Margaret, who married 
Alexander, King of Scotland. He reigned flfty-six years; 
and died on November 16th, 1272. 

S. ARTHUR DuKX or Bretagne was the posthumous 
son of OeofPrey Piantagenet, fourth son of Henry IL, who, 
according to some historians, was trampled to death at 
a tournament, on August 19th, 1185. HoUnshed, how- 
ever, says: "his death was occasioned (as men iudge) 
by a fall which he caught at a toumie, for he was sore 
bruised therewith; and neuer had his health, but flnallie 
fell into a flix and so died" (vol. ii. p. 100> Arthur had 
one sister, the Princess Eleanor, who was taken prisoner 
by John and confined in Bristol Castle for many years. 
Mr. Russell French, in his Shaketpeareana Otnealogiea, 
(p. 6) says: "she afterwards took the veil, and became 
Superior of the nunnery of Ambresbury, where she died 
in 1235." Arthur was in his fourteenth year when the 
action of this pkv beginsL At first King Philip Angustut 
of France strongly supported his just claim to the throne; 
but having become reconciled to John, in 1200, he with- 
drew his suiHPort. Soon afterwards Arthur fell into his 
uncle's hands, as he was engaged in beaiefinc the town of 


Mirabeau, in which his grandmother. Queen Eleanor, 
was beieaguered. He was confined flrrt at WwXaSm, ad 
afterwards at Rotten, where be died (see note 286). With 
regard to the question of Jobn'a bavinf had anything to 
do with Arthur's death. Sir Thomaa Dolf na Hardy has 
proved that the king wasai Rooen froB the 34 to the 7th 
April. 1208, Arthur's death having Uken place on the Sd 
April of that year. (See RiMBell French, pi 6.) 

4. Earl or Pembroks. WflUam Marriudl waa the k- 
cond son of John Marshall, Lord Mareachid to Henry II 
He became Earl Mareschal at the death of his elder bro- 
ther, 1199. WOUam Marshall became Earl of Fembrske 
by his marriage with Isabel de Clare, daughter of Bichsnl 
Strongbow ; he had five sons by her— WiUiam, RichanL 
Walter, Gilbert, and Anselm, who were in succession Lords 
Mareschal and Earls of Pembroke. According to HoUmbed 
on the day of his coronation King John ** innested WiUisD 
MarshaU with the sword of the earledome of StrignUk" 
(StriguU) "and Geffrey Fits Peter, "(see below) "with the 
sword of the eariedome of Essex " (vol. ii. p. 276). fv 
ther on (p. 340) he thus records the death of this Bohl^ 
man : "The next yeare, which was after the birth of mt 
lord 1219^ William Marshall the foresaid earle of Pembrakf 
died, gonemour both of the realme and also of the kisp 
person, a man of such wortbineaae both in stoutnentof 
stomach and martiall knowledge, as England had k* 
then lining that might be compared with him. He vis 
buried in the new temple chnrch at London vpoo tbr 
Ascension day." French says (p. 7) : " The noble in tiu» 
play did not fall away as therein implied, to the frescli 
interest; on the contrary, he remained faithful to Kiaf 
John, and it was chiefly through his steady valour, tik^ 
by Hubert de Burgh, that England was cleared of kr 
foreign foes. His eldest son, of the same name. oM <A 
the TwENTT-rivE Barons who obtained Maqha Cbii^ 
from John, was among the nobles who Joined the DailMB. 
and hence the mistake of the Poet" 

6. Earl of Essex. Geoffrey Fitz-Peter, or Ffti-Picn. 
was created Earl of Essex in 1199, in the first year of ChiS 
John's reign, and died in 1212. The earldom of Sa^ 
came to him by "his marriage with Beatrice, gmd 
daughter of William de Say.' by Beatrice, only sWtr d 
Geoffrey de Mandeville. created Earl of Essex by Uv 
Stephen " (French, p. 8). In 1108, when Hubert, kt^ 
bishop of Canterbury, resigned the oAce of High /«- 
ticiary, Geoffrey Fitz-Peter was appointed in his plan 
The holder of this office was second in rank only to ftt 
king himself. The eldest son of fhb noMemaa, aho 
named Geoffrey, assumed the name of Mandeville, sad vt» 
one of the Twenty-five Barons. His only sister Maad 
Fits-Peter nairied Henry de Bohun, Earl of BckIdH. 
who was the ancestor of Humphrey de Bohun, last Itfi 
of Hereford, whose daughter and heireta Henry BoUm 
broke (afterwards Henry IV.) married. HoUnshed ^ 
the following character of Essex : " Vpon the second rf 
October. Geffrey Fits Peter earle of Easez and lord chvefc 
iustice of England departed this Hfe, a man of V^ 
power and autoritis, in whoae politUn dirsellan «> 
gooemeasent, the order of thing* pnriifaiiaf lo thioiB- 
mon-wealthcheefelieoonsLstod. He wm c< a nebli ski 
expert in knowledge of the lanrea of tiM IhmI, deft ^ 


Dnunati« Pitraouas. 

ODB, aud ioined id blood or affinitie with the more 
ill the Nobles of the reelme, so that hie deatli was 
1 loese to the commonwealth: for through him 
) afchbishop Hubert, the king was oftentimes 
I from such wilf uU purposes, as now and then he 
ermined to baue put in practise, in so much that 
I, as was reported (but how tnilie I cannot tell) 
to reioise for his death, bicause he might now 
Ills will without anie to control! him " (toL ii 

KL OF Salisbvrt. William Longsword, Earl of 
7, was the natural son of Henry II. by Rosamond 
(Fair Rosamond). He married Ela. daugliter of 
I Derereux, Earl of Salisbury, to which title he 
ed on the death of his father-in-law. He was. 
»eginning of John's reign, sheriff of Wiltshire, and 
of the Welsh Marches He was one of the lords 
H'esented the icing in the negotiations with the 
Ave barons concerning ^lagna Charta. He rav- 
le counties of Essex, Hertford and Middlesex, 
Igo and Huntingdon, in 1216, with his army. He 
rds revolted from King John's side, and Joined 
MHiteuted barons, who had invited the Dauphin 
I the English crown; but, on the death of John. 
««ion of Henry HI, he returned to his allegi- 

UL OP Norfolk. Roger Bijjot— not Robtrt as he 
ally called —second Eai-l of Norfollc, was the son of 
igot, steward to King Stephen. He was created 
Norfolk, and died, in 1177, in the Holy Land. He 

one of the twenty-flve barons who coalesced 
King John. He married Isabel, daughter of 

n Flantagenet, Earl of Warren aud Surrey. His 
on, Hugh Bia'ot, who was also one of the twenty- 
ona, married Maud Marshall, daughter of the 
Pembroke. (See above.) 

BlRT i>E Burgh. Shakespeare has scarcely given 
idea of the importance of this nobleman; for 
be had no title in the reign of King John, he was 
ently created Earl of Kent by Henry III. in 1226. 
Uie great grandson of Robert. Earl of Cornwall, 
ther of William the Ck)nqueror. He was also de- 
flrom Charlemagne, so that he was of the very 
Mood. French lays (p. 9): "he was made Lord 
riain. Warden of the Welsh Marches, Sheriff of 
iBties, Seneschal of Poltou, and governor of 
Bsstles. ** He was one of John's securities for the 
at of Magna Charta; and, unlike most of the no- 
snained uniformly faithful to his king to the end. 
ly 140 soldiers he defended for four months the 
r Dover, defying all the efforts of the French to 
Though he appears to have been a most devoted 
to Henry III. ; yet he was stripped of all his dig- 
Bployments, and possessions by that king, in con- 

1 of the jealousy which his wealth and honours 
ied among the barons. He died in 1248. He was 
four timea, his last wife being Margaret, daughter 
in the lion. King of Scotland. 

mait FAULOOHBRipas or Fauoombridob. About 
raeter nothing Matoric is known. The most re- 

markable thing about him seems to have lieen that hs was 
the son of his fiither. In the old play. Look About You, 
quarto^ IGOO (see Dodsley. voL vii. p. 389-506). the hus- 
band of Lady Faulconbridge is called Sir Richard Paul- 
conbridge. That play deals very ftilly with the in- 
trigue between Prince Richard and Lady Faulconbridge, 
so tliat, probably, there was some story or tradition on 
the point, of which tlie author of Look About You and 
the author of The Troublesome Raigne (on which Shake- 
speare founded his King John) both made use. In Shake- 
speare the father of Robert Faulconbridge is called Sir 
Robert Faulconbridge. 

10. PHlLn* FArLCONBRiDOE. The chief historical ground 
for this character seems to be a paragraph in Holinshed: 
"Philip bastard sonne to king Richard, to whome his 
father had giuen the castell and honour of Coinacke, 
killed the vicount of Limoges, in reuenge of his father's 
death" (vol. ii. p. 278). French says, p. 11: "The continu- 
ator of Hardyng's Chronicle calls hini *one Faulconbridge, 
th' earle of Kent, his bastarde, a stoute - harted man.' 
Sir Nicholas Harris Nicolas identifies him as a baron 
by tenure; -'I. John, Foulkg de Breante, ob. circa 
1228, s. p. m. Eve, his sole daughter and heir, married 
Llewellyn, Prince of N. Wales. ' This same Foulke de 
Breante is one of the 'managers and disposers' in King 
John's will, dated at Newark; and he is also one of ' the 
noble persons' named in tlie 'First Great Charter' of 
Henry III. Matthew Paris speaks of him as 'Faloasius 
de Brente,' in Iiis General History, and Rymer, in his 
Faedera, gives several letters in Latin respecting 'Fonllte 
de Breante." Holinshed frequently mentions " Foukes de 
Brent," especially, in connection with the Earl of Salis- 
bury, as fighting on the side of the king against the barons 
in 1216. If this Foulke, or Fawkes, as he is called in Lin- 
gard, who describes him as " a ferocious and sanguinary 
ruffian " (vol. ii. p. 391). was the same as the Faulcon- 
bridge of this play, his character must have altered con- 
siderably for the worse. Holinshed thus describes his 
end: "Howbeit at length the foresaid Fouks. hauing ob- 
teined his purpose at Rome (by meanes of his chapleine 
Robert Paslew an Englishman, who was his solicitor 
there) as he returned towards England in the yeare in- 
suing, was poisoned and died by the wale, making so an 
end of his inconstant life, which from the time that he 
came to yeares of discretion was neuer bent to quietnes" 
(vol. ii. pp. 856, 367). 

11. Jambs Gurnet. Nothing is known historically of 
this personage. The name Guniey or Ooumey is a very 
old one. 

IS. Sheriff of Northamptonshire. French says (p. 
13): "There can be no difficulty in naming this official, as^ 
Sir Simon de Pateahull was Sheriff of N. Hanta for the last 
four years of King Richard's reign, and during the first 
four years of King John. One of the witnesses to two 
charters ... is 'Simon de Pateshull,' no doubt this 
Sheriff, who was also Justice of the King's Court from 7 
Richard I. to 16 John; and Is called by Matthew of West- 
minster 'a noble faithful honest man.' ** 

Itk Pktkr of Pomfrbt is mentioned In Holinshed, who> 

209 67 

I>niia*xi» PenoitfB. 


firtM the foUowiuj; account id hia death: "Hervrpon 
Ifelnjf oDjniitted to priaoo within the caatell of Coif, 
wti«n the day by him prefixed came, without any other 
notable damage mto King Joim, he waabytheUngsoom- 
inandement drawne from the aaid caatell. vnto the towne 
(4 Wariuun. A there hanged togither with hia tonne" 
(voL ii. p. 31 1|. 

14. PiiiLiF, Kiso OP Fbasce. Philip Aagnstns anc- 
ceeded his father in 1180 at the age of fifteen. He married 
Iiabeila of Hainault, daughter of Baldwin, Earl of Flan- 
den, wtio Inxrught him the county uf Artoia aa part <d her 
dower. He encouraged the soua of Henry II. in their 
rebellion againat their father. He joined in the Third 
i'ruaade with £ichard C<eur-de-Lion, of whom lie was very 
Jealous. After the siege of Acre in 1191 he returned hur- 
riedly to France; and immediately commencetl to intrigue 
with John against Richard, supporting him in his endea- 
vour to seize the crown of Kiigland in his brother's ab- 
M;nce: in retuni for which support Philip himself waa 
to obtain possession of Normandy. He died in 1223. 

U. Lewih, the Dauphin, was the son of Philip Augus- 
tus by his wife* lMl>el. He married Blanch of Castile, 
daughter of Alfonso VIII. of Castile, and of Kleauor. the 
sister of Richard I. and John. Ilaviuf; Ijeen invited over 
to KnglAiid by the discontented l>aroiis in 1216, he landed 
with a large body of troops, aiul was joined by many of 
the Knglish nobles; but soon after the accession of Henry 
III. he was deserted by his Knglish allies and was com- 
pelled to conclude a peace and retuni to France. In 1223 
he succeeded to the throne as Lewis VIII., but only 
reignetl three years, dying in 122(5. He was the father of 
Louis IX., generally known as Saint Louis. 

16. Lymoqeh, AKriiDi'KEor Ai'KTKiA. Shakespeare has 
here followed the author of The Troublesome Raigne in 
confusing two personages, botli of whom were enemies 
of Richard CcDur-de-Lion. Lyniogea, as this character is 
called both in tl^e Troublesome Raigne and in Shake- 
speare's King John, was really Vidomar, Viscount of 
Lymoges : " whose vassal having found, aa was reported 
to King Richard, a treasuie of golden statues, represent- 
ing a Roman emperor with his wife, sons and daugh- 
ters, seated at a golden table, was required to yield up 
the prize to Richard Suzerain of the Limousin, and on 
Vidomar's refusal he was besieged in his caatle at Chaluz- 
Chabrol, before which the heroic king received the wound 
ot which he died twelve days after, viz. April 6, 1190 " 
(French, p. 16). This Lymoges was killed by Faulcon- 
Itridge in 1200. The Archduke of Austria from 1194 to 
1230 was I..eopold VI. , son of Leopold V. The latter died 
ill consequence of a fall from his horse in 1194, five years 
l»efore the death of his enemy Richard; so that, histori- 
cally speaking, the Archduke of Austria, who lived in the 
time of King John, had nothing on earth to do with the 

death of C<BUr-de-Lion. 


17. Pampulph. He was, when he is first introduced in 
this play, only an envoy and not a legate of the pope's. 
According to Lingard he was never a cardinal ; but ac- 
cording to French (p. 17) " Pandulphusde Maaca. a native 
of IMaa, was made 'Canlinal of the Twelve Apostles' in 
1182." When he was appointed envoy he had the title of 


"sabdiacoaas Domini PitpK 
note 2). He waa not evea ta 
Xovemlyer, 1218. he sncoeeded 
of 8t Hartina. aa legate; and 
ahleaenrioea to the 
to Rome in 1221 j 
(aa before is expreaaed) did the 
pope Innocentr to king John. 
Norwich** (hi 1219X Iii«aMdoea 


It. Unm. The Viacoont de MelnB ia refcn«< 

the paaaage from HoUnabed gfTCB km note 
says(pp. 17, 18):**11ie 'Coantde If etas' ia 
a treaty, dated A.D. IIM. betweea tlie Unea d 
and France, and is probably theaame persoaas the Jfsta 
of this play." 

19. Ch ATILLOX. lliere is no liiatoric wutBXkm of tbe«i» 
baasy of Chatillon. French (p. 18) aaya : " In the tieily 
I>etween King Richard and Philip Aagvatoa. dated i^ 
23, 1194, the concluding article aeto forth:— * Now < 
de Chatillon, aa representative of the King of Ftanee,! 
sworn to observe all the articlea above recited, and i 
tain the truce.'* He therefore mif^t be the penoi sal 
as ambassador to England, five years after tlw atefi 
date." The family was a very distinguiahed one: Jacqa* 
de Chatillon. Admiral of FVance, waa killed at the bstfii 
of Agincourt 

80. Qi'EE.H Eli.noR.i This princesa, generally knoviai 
Elinor of Ouienne, was the daughter and heiress of Wl* 
lUm v., Duke of Aquitaine, and Count ot Fultoa. Ste 
was bom in 1122, and married, at the age of fifteen ysin 
Lewis VII. of France. Guienne appears to hare bcco tt* 
name for that part of Aquitaine which belonged to At 
Counts of Poitou. When Lewis TIL went to the Cnmim 
she accompanied him; but her conduct waa so sca nds l te i 
that he sued for and obtained a divorce in 1151 ^ 
weeks after. Eleanor married Henry Plantagenei. sfter 
wards Henry II. Her husband, to whom she was st flnt 
passionately attached, subsequently gave her so wmA 
cause for jealousy by his numerous infidelities, thst iki 
conceived an aversion to him. and excited her son Is 
rebel against their father. The story of her JeahHuytl 
Rosamond Clifford (Fair RosamondX the mother of VI- 
liam Longsword, Earl of Salisbury, and of' the veagtMBt 
she took against her, is well known. In 1179 she m 
confined in a convent by the king, and not releasei UB 
her stm Richard came to the throne. In 1902 ahe took tte 
veil in the Abbey of Fontevraux, where she died ia 19i 
above eighty years of age. Although ahe was faikmd 
Constance, she is said to have done aU ahe could to oMii> 
kind treatment for Arthur after he waa taken pfii o ter \9 
his uncle. 

SI. Constance was the daughter of Conan le Petlt» Mi 
of Brittany and Earl of Richmond in Yorkshire, §■< I* 

I We have adopted in the text the ipettiiig E/iu 
by Editors ; but in the body of the notes we have spdt the *■■ 
Eleanor, the more usual form. In F. i the — n Is wtiam Si W 
F./iM*r, but variously in abbierlaied fonn. Eti.t £ie^ Mk"^ t^ 


ACT I. Soene 1. 

A, dangiiter of Henry Earl ef Hontlngdon. 
m not a tndow at the time of which this 
She married flrtt (in 1182) Geoffrey, son of 
10 was killed, ' by accident^' at a touniament 
yaara after his marriage. Shortly after his 
nee gare birth to Arthor ; and while the re- 
Im people of Bretagne at this erent were 
Miry II. invaded Bretagne, treacherously 
waona of Constance and her children, and 
yoang widow forcibly to Randal de Blonde- 
Cheater. From this brutal tyrant she di- 
lin 1199, and soon afterwards was remarried 
it of Thouars. She died suddenly in 1201, a 
after her son Arthur was taken prisoner, 
takes -a liberty with history, much to the 
the play, by killing off Constance before 

I was the daughter of Alphonso VIII. of Cas- 
mor, daughter of Henry II. Her marriage 
iphin was principally brought «bout by the 
me grandmother. Queen Eleanor. The mar- 
rety happy one: after her husband's death 
aa Regent of France during the minority of 
b IX., and afterwards, when he was absent 
iea. She was very beautiful, talented, and 
bar are descended the royal houses of Valois, 
LOrleans; her granddaughter Isabel married 
nd by him became the mother of Edward III. 

^AVLCONBRIDOE. French says (p. 21): " Some 
t that the mother of Philip Faulconbridge 
f Poitou, of which province Coeur'de-Lion 
int or earl by his father, with half its reve- 
npport; he was much engaged in his foreign 
Ota he came to the throne of England." In 
fou she is called Marian, and is represented 
)( Robert Earl of Gloucester. 


: ChtUiUon.—lTi the old play this name is 
iUon; and so it is intended to be pronounced 

7A« BORBOWKD majetty.— The final ed is not 
rcwed in F. 1, either in this line or the fol- 

Ml.— Shakespeare copied the demands of 
m the old play. According to Holinshed 
kngostus demanded, not by his ambassador, 
erriew with John held "in a place betwixt 
f Bntenant and Guleton," was "the whole 
enlquesaine (the Vexin) to be restored vnto 
which had beene granted by Geffrey earle of 
ther of King Henrie the second, vnto Lewes 
bane his aid then against king Stephan. 
> demanded, that Poictiers, Anion, Maine, 
I, should be delinered and wholie resigned 
lake of Britaine" (vol. ii. p. 277). 

: And SULLKX primge qf your oum deeay.^ 
' nfen (o the sound of a tolling belL Com- 
ylV. LI. 101-lOS: 

and his tongue 
Sounds ever after as a sttUtH bell. 
Remember'd toUini; a departing: friend. 

18. Lines 90-84— Holinshed says (voL IL p. 274): " SureUe 
qneene Slianor the kings mother was sore against hir 
nephue Arthur, rather mooned thereto by enuie conceiued 
against his mother, than vpon any iust occasio(i giuen in 
the behalfe of the child, for that she saw if he were king, 
how his mother Constance would looke to beare most rule 
within the realme of England, till hir sonne should come 
to lawfull age, to goueme of himself e." 

89. Line 87: Which now the MANAGE, &c.— Compare 
Richard n. i. 4. 88. 39: 

Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland,— 
Expedient manage must be made, my liege. 

80. Line 38.— The entrance of the Sheriff is not marked 
till line 48, in the Folio, and in all modem editions that 
I have seen. But, in following Charles Kean's Acting 
Edition and placing it here, we only follow the dictates 
of common sense. There must be some little time allowed 
for the Sheriff to impart his information to Essex, before 
Essex can impart it to the king. The stage direction in 
the old play is: "Enter the Shrixte and whispers the 
Earle of Salisbury in the eare." 

81. Lines 40-48.— That this speech is spoken aside to 
John is clear from line 48. The Sheriff is wliispering to 
Essex during this speech of Eleanor's. 

88. Line 50.— Shakespeare has so expanded and improved 
the character of the Bastard from the meagre and unin- 
teresting sketch in the'old play, that he may be said fairly 
to have created it It may be mentioned here that Shake- 
speare wisely excludes Lady Faulconbridge from this 
scene, during the whole of which, in the old play, she is 
present, and is there made to take a very unseemly part 
in the discussion. 

88. Line 64: 0/ C<XUR-DE-L10N.— Ff. have Cordelion, in 
one word; and so has the old play. 

81 Line 68: 0/ UuU 1 dmiht. — Steevens quotes from 
Chapman's Translation of Homer's Odyssey, book 1. lines 


My mother certain says I am his son; 

I know not : nor was ever simply Icnown 
By any child the sure truth of his sire. 

A correspondent has sent (under the signature M. M.) 
an ingenious communication, proposing to amend the 

line thus: 

If that I doubt, as all men's children may- 
taking the speech of Eleanor's which follows to be an in- 
terruption. The writer's argument amounts to this; that 
the Bastard would not at this point " commit himself to 
an avowal of a definite belief " in his own illegitimacy. 
But this cynical avowal of doubt is in accordance with 
Philip Fauteonbridge's character, aa Shakespeare has 
drawn it; and by. 

Of that I doubt, as all men's children may. 

he merely means to say that the legitimacy of every child 
is a fair subject for doubt; a variation of the old proverb 
that "It is a wise child who knows his own father." 
Facetious allasions to this dou6f, as to a child's paternity, 



M Lli 

PILL Iht ton« that tout the paimfor 
"Good lock befull tile lnn» thai bon Uicpatni 
r forme!" CaiDpan Love'a Labonr'i Loat. li. l. 

n« 8&: Ht haOx a IRICK 1/ Comr-dr-Kon't /we.- 

flttlng tight [0 thsflg 

U. Linn 14S. Its: 
Thai in mmt tarldi 

Some coniment»tor« 

ST. Line 93: ITilA 

E would hi 


that half /act' But iiuety AoV tta 
my fathers Ism. " 

M. LiaeM: X Aa^/a^iffnuf.— ThlaiiiuanicbniDinn; 
tha nfenoce being to the lia(f-groiiri, rained Anl in the 
jeti IGM, in Ih* reign of Henrj VII , whieh. like tbe 
groali coined at the tame time, bore the kipgfi lace In 
pronie. The groat tts not coined at all till the reign ot 
Edward III.; it wai worth lour pence. Steeveni quatea 

Irom The D 

il R/>bert Earl ol Hun 


d thiii,r«t 

rhaMpreailan kal/-/aad,or "wUb Aa(/ a /a« ~ would 
Mm to hare been uied aa a more or leu conl#DiptDOiii 
iipreaalon. In " The Slallitm," out of the CuMlota of the 
>unfry(Droll8),veHndtherollo>rlngpaua«e: "Would 
: were honeatly mirried, to anything that had but hafft 
■ face, aud not a groat to keep her,"— Klrkman'i The 
A'lta, or, Sport upon Sport (edn. 1663). p. M. 

n Line 110: and («» il on hU deaU -Compare I. 
Benry IV. ». 1. 151, 185: "I'll tate il upon my deaUk, I 
lave him Ihii wound in the thigh." 

Thll pauaga la charaeteriied by Theobald a* " lerj ob- 
•cure." He uyi: "We muit obaerre, to explain lUa 
alluilou. that Queen Eliubeth wai the flnt, and lodefd 
the Dul)' prince, who coiped In England tlireehalf.pent; 
and three-farlhlng plecea Bhe eolned thlllbigl. rii. 
pencea, groati, three- pencea, two-pencea, three- half-pence; 
pence, thrtt-Jarthinfft, and halt-pence; and theae piceet 
all had her head, and were alternately with the nw bt- 
hind. and wlthoal the nwe" (Var. Ed- toL ii. p W) 
Ualone add! that theie colni "were made of illFer. ai 
contequentlyeitremely (Ain." Ai to the cnitom of *ar 
ing rotti in tha ear. In PUoch«'i Cycloimdla o( CoMnse. 
vol. II. p SI. I> an engnilng from a portrait. wnn|1r 
deacribed a> the portrait of Rlehard Lee. In whidi * rrm 
li aeen Hied behind the ear. The Uon. Harold Mb* 
kindlf Informa me that the portnll (honld b* Uul of 
"ThomaiLee.abrotheroiairH.Lee.K.a. Ba(ThoMa 
Lee) died In 1513; but the portrait, one ot a let irf ike 
flve bivthera maj haye been painted latei aatooM ol Oi 
bnilhen an ihewu much older. 1 do not think hannr 
that It waa alter 15ST, aa Sir Henr? Lee doea ddI wear Ite 
Garter which he received that year." 
44. LInelBl: £>uclr/ieiidotm/>A(Ii>. »uf riwrrMT 

t. Line 137: Lord <if thy prumae.— The n 

1. phra 

"lord 01 

bably tha right 

aoiial appearance which yon Inherited fmm your father." 
Varburton euggeits that we ehould read: "Lord of Hu 
preaence. i.e. prince of the blood;" an amendiUon which 
ii (carcely neeewarjr. 
41 Line 130: Ami I had hit. tir JtoberTt hii, lae hint 

r. 4 adda the.apoatrophe, aa In onr teit, BcbertM. Then- 

bald altaivd It to " Sir Xo<Kr« hia,"niaking It the old form 
of tlje genltlva^.5ir Enbtrt'i. Ponlhlj the double form 
ol the ganlUi'e, Sir Hobtrft hit. waa Intanliorutl. Walker 
tuggeiti Sir Itoberl'i hit making hit emphatic (^imnaw); 

the double genitive having jet been found. Fleay reada: 

J (rat 

line il de 
U Lint 

e whole t 

i>lan((vtnr(. -Ualone baa the foUong 
note bare which ii worth preaerving : " It ia a eoax* 
opinion, tliat Plantagetut wai the aunuune ol Ibeiertl 
bouie of England, from the tine of King Henn' U.; W 
ltl>, ai Camden obeervet. Id hit Remainea, Iflll, apoH" 
mlilake. Plantagrittt waa not a lamHy name, bnt til^- 
name, by which a grandaon of OefTrey, the Ortt tiH •^ 
Anion, wa* dlitlngnlibed. from hli wearing ■ hrxia«Ul 
In hit bonnet. But thia name wai nerer bonie ellfca H 
thalint Earlof Anfon. or bjKing Henrrll., Ihen<< 
that earl br the Empreai Maude: ha being alwviaM 
Henrj Filr-Anjnrii; bla ion, Richard Ortir 4» Li—: iM 
the prince who ii eihlblted In the play before m M> 
tnni-ttrre, or IMHoiid" (y*r. Ed. voL it. p. HO). IW 
frey of Anjon, who wai the aecond huaband ol MalDda « 
Hand, the daughter uf Benry I., waa alwayi k*ii*a *- 
parently a> QeolTrey Plantagemt. He waa tbeVt'* 
Vulk, Earl ol Anfon, whoae danghtu- KadMa *« a* 
ried to William, ion of Henry I., who waa dnwaed ll> 
IJngarduyi>(rol 11. p. S3, note): "nefaDiaroiridkn 


!• month "{Wortu.YQi. II 

■I ■■ ml 11 1 fwiillrin 

I mj at Ut doeen- 
UaU bdon ths (UMDlb cnUrr, whm Klcbuil. dilk« ot 
]lt^wtictlleiBicb*rdPliinlagentt." ADoUier (cootuit 
i{ Ik DdglB ot Uw BUM U gtm. OD the tntluirltjr ot 
tUniwr ud Hennj. In lUlda* DictloDirj o( Itat« 
FiMrteartti sdn. UJTS. p. UO)t "nOkB Mutel, ckri ot 
inJoB. luTing coalrlTed ttw daith of hli nepbew. One 
Ml Bt Srittuir. In ordn to mccMd to th< auldom, bii 

■w to lud him b; ■ hllUr to Um Hair aepnlchn, tbe 
llhtT to atilp uid whip him there, like > coiuniaa male- 
factor. Broom. In French grntt. In I«Uti (Kiiufa, being 
tbe onlf tough, pliunt ihrnb In Fileitlne. the noble 
ulninul wu •inutl]' econrged with II, and from tfall Id- 

II. TJmlK'lU: SBmrlliingaliaiU.aliaU/romllitright. 
lc--JobiiKineipUlnithl>iomewhitobicurepuu4|e: "/ 
WK, tajn the q»Tightlr knlsht. your gramUon. ^ UtAXe irrm- 
lnUriif, bat eierr nu cannot get what ha wlthee the 
csal waj. He tllat darti not gti about hli deilgni bn 

t IBS: My PI 

T, ihaU not clepreai n 

piiiiT. but allowB that la *a« 
*u MiV*'. nnd (bat ha n^ Hint. Mot wall, 
<rm U* akUl, vhether tbe anoir lell near thi 
'ar on It " (Var. Id. voL it p. HI). 

t. or leap Iht 
e I* known to 

■IID man oJcoHttlritt —See Loie'a 

ng, MM: "In the detcriptlon ol a 
pretended traveller: "There be In England, eepeclallj 
abont London, certain quaint jilatt, and neat Gompauioni, 
attired, Ac, alamode de France'" (Var, Ed lol. %i. p. tU\ 
Tht qaeatlon arfaea whether pidttd may not refer to tbe 
cnalom vt wearing iho« with long pidrt or pvkt4, i.t. 

caHi faiUned to (he knee. In the Fgerton M9, Tragat^ 
ol Elcbard II, there are manj' allntlona to theM piit: 
(SeeHBlllweiraReprlnt,p.W.) There wai in tbe Bf lb fear 
of Edward IV, ■ proclamation made agalnit tbe luardlnate 
leogtb of tliew ptkn. (See StCBveni' Note, Var. Ed. 
voL »1I, p, *J8.) 

ub'i Adilreu "To tbe Gentlemen StudenU of 
irdlloi," prefixed toOreene'e Slenaphon: "I 
poae to Jour iport the pklnre of tlioae Pam. 
d Foeta, that make a patrlmonle of /ii Sptich, 

<T. Une 

I: laal 

la c<iiilTa]ent to " bom ont of wedlock," Compare Mid. 
Ueton-i FamllJ of Lore, It. 3 ; "Woe worth tbe time that 
!ier I gan nek to a child Ibat came in nl the ui'ntfne" 
WM-ka, ToL II. p, ITT); and In Webaler'i Northward Hoe, 
. I: "kindred Ihatctnnei In o'er (A< AofcA ~ (Worilg, toI, 
.p. 18W. 

tt line m: A U!iiii.ig8 enioht nmkfi Art a landed 
•juirL—i-e. "Vonr brother Philip (whom I hare Juit 
mlshtvdX bj reajpilnt bli clalma to leglthnacT, makei 
nm a iandtd afufrr." Aa John waa commonlj called 
tnu-ttm. It la seceaaaiT to eiplaln that be meani Philip 
Faaleonbrld^ by the eipnalon IsniKai Iniight, and not 

«•, Una 186: "Qaadden, lir i{ieAarrf/'~"0od.a-m(rev, 
'■Half J" — Fattlcoobrldge here Imaglnea Umaolf holding 
1 c«sT«iiBtkin wllb aom* lufetlDr, Tben la a good deal 
it bOBUnr In thia aolUoqaj. which reminda one now ol 
BoOvor'a wall-kiMwa apMcb lu L Hsdit IV. L & tt-W, 
iMolptln of Uu Goioonb; and now of MalTollo'i aolilo- 
ivj In Twellth NIgbl, IlL 4, Tl-W 

H, LlneSe 

1 Reprtiit. 1B80, p IT). 

Savins in dialogtu ttf eompiiintiU. -Toliet 
thll puaage (Var. Ed, >oI ir. p. °]5) in 
Ich be aa;)^ " air W, Comwallls'i 2Sth Euaj thiu ridl- 
ea the eitnvagance of coinplinunl In our poet'i dajn, 
1: 'Wespenderenat Wt(i(. afrienU'eorailranger'a) 
ranee, a whole rolume of wordi.^ What a deal of ajma- 
a and ginger li aacrinced to dlulmutatluo I O, how 
■aed do I Uke mine ejei for preuntlng me witli 
I light ! O SIgnlur. the itar that gwrem) my life In 

M, Llnei 

ii iul a iiulard lo Ihi t 

Thai dolh not imadt nf obfrralion;— 

And K am I, fduther I laindi or no. 

Faulconbridge meini that evei? one l> thought ve>7 little 

of who cannot talk of hli traieli and psiade bit efcirrea. 

Mont of foreign minnen, 01 contH tbla li an anachron- 

1> ipeaklng of hit own lime. In line 

^h Theobald cor- 

ACT 1. Scene 1. 


ACT II. Boene 1. 

Stan. (See Drayton's Polyolbion, Twelfth Song, for • de- 
scription of the combat.) Compare Henry VIII. v. 4. 22: 

I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor CMrand. 

67. Line 231: Oaod leave, good PAiZtp.— These four 
words are all that James Oumey speaks. The praise that 
has been bestowed on this character by Coleridge and 
Lamb is. I think, rather fantasUcaL Coleridge in his 
Table Talk (edn. 1886, p. 82) says: "For an instance of 
Shakespeare's power in minimie, 1 generally quote James 
Gumey's character in King John. How individual and 
comical he is with the four words allowed to his dramatic 
life." To which rhapsody the editor, H. N. Coleridge, 
adds in a note : "The very exit of Gumey is a stroke of 
James's character." Certainly the whole scene conveys 
clearly enough the notion of an old family servant, some- 
what reticent of speech, and lacking in ceremonious re- 
spect to his master. Oood leave is as much as to say "you 
are welcome," and implies ready assent; it is an expression 
which would be used more between equals than by an 
inferior to his superior. 

68. Line 231: Philip!— »parrow !— The meanhig of this 
sentence is: "Philip! do you take me for a eparrowf" 
The allusion is to Philip, the common pet name for a 
eparrouf. In Gascoigne*8 Weedes there is a poem called 
"The Praise of Phillip Sparrowe," which begins thus: 

or all the byrdes that I doe know. 
Phillip my Sparotu hath no peare. 

—Works, vol. i. p. 488. 

Skelton has a very pretty poem to the memory of Philip 
Sparrow. It is difficult to believe that the subject of 
these poems was the bird which we know as the common 
houM sparrow. But the devoted affection, which this 
bird shows for its young, may be only one amongst its re- 
deeming qualities. 

69. Lines 243, 244 : 

Lady F. What mearu this icomt thou mott untoward 

knave t 
Bast. Knighty tn^ht, good mother,— Basilisco-like. 

The reference is to a passage in Soliman and Peraeda 
(printed 1599), act i. : 

Bas. O. I rwrnr, I mtar. [He sweareth him on his damper. 

Pist. By the contents of this bladt,— 

Bas. By tht contents of this blade, — 

Pist. I the aforesaid BasHisco, — 

Bas. / the aforesaid Basiliseo,^ 
Knight, good fellow: knight, knight. 

Pist. K'nave, good fellow; knave, knave. 

— Dodsley, vol. v. pp. 27'. V*' 

60. Line 261: Soine eins do bear their privilege on earth. 
—Johnson explains this line: " There are tint that what- 
ever be determined of them above, are not much censured 
on earth" (Var. Ed. vol. xv. p. 219). 

61. Lines 266. 207: 

The aweUei lion eotUd not wage the fight. 

Nor keep hit princely heart from Richard's hand. 

Compare ii. 1. 8. 

Richard, that robh'd the lion of his heart. 

Grey in his note on this latter passage quotes RastaU's 
Chronicles: "It is sayd that a Ijfon was put to Kynge 


Rieharde, beynge in prison, to have devoured him, and 
when the lyon was gapynge, he put hia arme in liis moutbe. 
and polled the lyon by theharte so hard, thathaslewetbe 
lyon, and therefore some say he is called Ry^Mrde Cure 
de Lyon; but some say he is called Cure de Lyon, because 
of his boldnesse and hardy stomake" (Notes <m Shake- 
speare, vol. i. p. 278)l Malone says the tiorj probably took 
its rise from * ' Hugh de Neville, one of Riohard'a follower!, 
having killed a lion, when they were in the Holy Land: 
a circumstance recorded by Matthew Paris" (>''ar. Ed. 
voL XV. p. 221)i For a long description of this fabuloos 
incident see The Downfall of Robert Eari of Huntingtoo, 
1601. (Dodsley, vol. viii. p. 170.) 

ACT II. Scene 1. 

691.— In F. 1 this scene is called Seena Seeunda ; and the 
next (iii. 1.) Actus Seeund%is; the latter ending at line 74 
of that scene; and then Actus Tertius, S^na prima be- 
gins, continuing to end of iii. 1. Seena Seeunda includes 
iiL 2. and iii. 8., and Seena Tertia is UL 4. The last two 
acts are divided precisely as in the modem editions. 
Various divisions have been made by Fleay, Grant White, 
and other editors; but that made by Theobald, sad 
adopted in most of the modem editions, ia the one to 
which we have thought it best to adhere. 

66. Line 1.— F. 1 gives this speech, as well as line 18 be- 
low, to Lewis. But this Is manifestly absurd, as Levii 
would not, in his father's presence, have assumed the 
position of the principal personage whose duty it wss to 
greet Austria. In "The Troublesome Kaigne,** ^. the 
corresponding speech has the prefix king. 

61 Line 6: By this brave duke oanu early to his gmt. 
—This is an error copied from the old play, where we flad 
in the fourth line of the corresponding scene: 
Braue Austria, cause of Cordclions death. 

— HaxUtt's Shak. Ub. toL L pt. a. p. >^.l 

66. Lines 12-17.— This speech is more in character with 
the Arthur ot the old play, who " talks like a book.^ thm 
with the sweet innocent child, created by ShakcqMsre. 
who pleads for mercy from Hubert with such touchini; 

66. Line 23: Together with that PALE, that WHRI 
PAC'D shore.-^li is worth while to obeerve how the eca- 
stant reference to the white cliffs as the distinguiihtaf 
feature of England's shore— the old name of our oonntry. 
Albion, is derived from Celtic alb, a cliff, and Mm while 
—proves that all the commerce with the Continent most, 
from the first, have been mainly directed to the south-cait 
coast of the island. It was on that side that foreifiMn 
first approached England: so, although chalk cUAi sre br 
no means the most prominent feature of our coast tskci 
as a whole, yet the epithets paU and white-faced hi otr 
text would certainly, to Englishmen and Frenchmen slfte. 
describe the shore of England most vividly. 

67. Line 34: To make a MORS requital to your lem." 

I As the references to this reprint of the play are very freqaeX ^ 
the course of these notes, in future we gire the refcfence dnc Ti» 
blesome Raigne. p. — . 

ACT II. SoaM 1. 


ACT II. Soeue 1. 

Th« OM of more = greater with the indefinite article leems 
to ooear chiefly in 8h«keipe«pe't earlier worke. Compere 
Comedy of Error*, ii. 1 174: " with m more contempt." 

•B Line 49: UMfuneelly.— Compere Henry V. ii. 4. 94 (the 
only other pauage where the adrerb appears In the lame 
senae = wrongfully): 

Your crown and kingdom INDIRKCTLY held. 

In iii. 1. 278 below indinHion ii needs wrong. 

•8. Line 60: expedient.— Th\B word, in the lenae of ex- 
peditions, quick, is only used in Richard II. 1. 4. 39; in 
Richard III. L 2. 217; and in II. Henry VI. iii. 1. 288: 

A breach that craves a quick EXPEDIENT stop ! 

70. Line 6S: ^n ATX, etirrif^f him to hlood and etrife.— 
Yi. have the obrions misprint ** An Aci." Ac. The emen- 
dation Is Rowe's. 

7L Line 66: a heuiard <^ the xnia's deceof'd.— This 
phrase, which has been unnecessarily corrected by some 
editors to " a bastard of the In'ii^ deceas'd," is Xa^tn Ter- 
batim from the old play, in which it is followed by the 
Une that gave Sliakespeare the idea of Faulconbridge's 

A hardy wildehead. tough and venturous. 

— Troublesome Kaigne, p. 239. 

7S. Line 70: Bearing their hirthrighte proudly on their 
baeke. —We find a similar idea in other writers. In the 
Egerton MR play of Richard II. Woodstock says: 

A himdred oaks upon these shoulders hange 
To make me brave uppon your wedding day; 
And more than that, to make ray horse more tyre. 
Ten acre» of good land are stitch'd up here {I'je. in his fine clothes). 

— Halliwell's Reprint, p. 15. 

Both the above passages seem to have been imitated by 
Burton in his Anatomy of Melancholy, pt iii sec. 2, 
members, snbeec. S, p. 296, edn. 1676: "Tis an ordinary 
thing to put a thousand oaks, and an hundred oxen into 
a suit of apparel, to wear a whole manner on hie back." 
In Henry VIII. L 1. 83-85 we have the same idea: 

O, many 
Have br«>ke their ttuJks with lifyimg manors »n 'em 
For this great journey. 

7S. Line 97 : Out-faeed ii\fant state.—The meaning of 
this phrase is somewliat rsgne. What Philip means to 
say is, that John has shamelessly disregarded the rights of 
the infant (Arthur) to the throne. 

71 Lines 101-109: 

Thie little abetraet doth contain that large 
WUeh died in €fffreg, and the hand qf time 
SkaU draw thie BEIIF inio a$ huge a volume. 

Compare with these lines Winter's Tale, ii. 8. 97-99: 

Behold, my lords. 
Altboogh the print be little, the whole matter 
And copr of tba father. 

Por brie/ in the sense of an abetraet, a short writing. 
compare Mids. Nightfs Dream, r. 1. 42 : 

There b a tri^how many sfAwts are ripe. 

7S. Lines 106, 106: 

BngHand wae Oefrey*i right. 

And hie ie Oefre^e. '*And ih\% ieGefrey'e" Theeroendation is Mason's; 
the meaning being " England was Geffrey's by right, and 
whatever was Geffrey's by right is now his (Arthur's)." 
The thie was probably caught by the eopyitt from the 
line above. If we explain the reading of Ff. to mean 
"This tff Gefrey'e (heir)," it seems a weak repetition of 
"And thie his son" in the line above. 

76. Line 111: To draw my anewer FROX thy articles. — 
Roberts (see Var. Ed. voi zv. p. 226) proposed to read 
"To thy articUi," a reading which Hanmer adopted ; but 
the alteration is unnecessary. The phrase is a legal one, 
and means "to make an answer according to thy articles.*' 

77. Line 114: To look into the BLOTS and etaine 0/ right. 
— There is no doubt that blot, in heraldry, means the dif- 
ference which marked the arms of a bastard; but I dunbt 
whether we ought to give it that peculiar sense here. In 
iii. 1. 46 we have the same collocation of Uote and etaine: 

Full of unpleasing BLOTS and sightless stains, 

where the word means nothing more than "blemishes." 
However, in lines 132, 133 below, the verb blot is use«l 
twice with evident reference to the heraldic sense of tlie 

78. Line 131: an if thou wert hie mofAer.— Constance 
alludes to Queen Eleanor's infidelity to her first husband. 
Lewis Vll. 

79. Line 189: 77; SMOKE your skin-coat.— To emoke is 
used in the north of England as=to beat severely. See 
Cotgrave under En, " Fen aura (blowes 1)eing understood) 
I shall 1>e well beaten; my skin-eoat will be soundly 

80. Line 144: Ae great Aleidee' shows upon an ae$; i.e. 
"As Hercules' lion's skin (the skin of the Nemean lion 
which he wore) shows upon the back of an ass." In the 
Frogs of Aristophanes there is a very amusing scene, at 
the beginning of the play, in which Hercules and Xan- 
tbias (the comic slave) descend into hell, the latter lieing 
obliged to wear Hercules' lion-skin. Ff. read ehoee, a 
ridiculous mistake; for a donkey would hardly attempt 
to wear Hercules' ehoee; nor can that reading be Justified 
by the various passages quoted by Steevens, in which 
allusion is undoubtedly made to Herculee' ehoee being too 
large for a child's feet 

81. Lines 149. ISO: 

King PHILIP, determine u>heU we ehall do straight. 
K. Phi. Women and fools, break of your conference. 
We have printed these lines according to Theobald's most 
valuable and sound emendation; as they stand in the old 
copies they are undoubtedly wrong. Ff. read: "King 
Leuris determine," Ac, and the next speech is assigned to 
Lewie. Malone proposed to print King— Lewis, but with- 
drew that suggestion, and finally assigned line 140 to 
King Philip. But why should the king ask Lewis, a mere 
youth, to determine the matter? The very first line of the 
next speech (line 150) is utterly out of place in the mouth 
of a young prince like Lewia How could the Dauphin de- 
mand the various provinces of John in Philip's presence, 
as if he were de facto king and his father a mere puppet? 
The absurdity is obvious; and the frequent blunders as to^ 
the names prefixed to the speei'hes in this play leave no 

21 r» 

ACT II. Soeue 1. 



duubt that Theobald's arrangement of the lines is the 
right one. As for the mode of address— JiTtiv PkUip— 
used by Austria, see below, iii. 1. 196: 

Kiii£ Pkiti/, ttsten to the cardinal, 

and again in the same scene, line 210. The objecUoQ that 
the reading Ki^ig Philip gives a redundant syllable is of 
no importance, as, in the case of proper names, Shake- 
speare often does not strictly adhere to the metre; and it 
is possible PAt7ip might be pronounced sometimes as a 

82. Line 152: Anjou.—¥i. have Aiigiertt first corrected 
by Tlieobald. 

83. Lines 109, 170: 

DraxM Uiose heaven-movifig PEARLS /rom hit poor eyet. 
Which heaven ghall take in nattire of a fee. 
Shakespeare is fond of comparing tears to pearls, espe- 
cially in his earlier works; e.g. in Sonnet xxxiv. 18, 14: 

Ah! but those tears /rar/ which thy love sheds. 
And they are rich, and ransom all ill deeds. 

81 Lines 180, 181: 

The canon of the law is laid on him. 
Being but the second generation &c. 
The allusion is of course to Exodus xx. 5: "for I the Lord 
thy Qod am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the 
fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth gen- 
eration of them that hate me." 

86. Line 183: BEDLAM, have done.— Compare Lear, iii 
7. 103-106: 

Let 's follow the old earl, and i;ct the Bfeilam 

To lead him where he would : his ro};uish madness 

Allows itself to any \.\\\n^. 

Bedlam or Bethlehem Hospital, was "so called from 
having been originally the hospital of St Mary of Beth- 
lehem, a royal foundation for the reception of lunatics, 
incorporated by Henry VIII. in 1547" (Haydn's Diet, of 
Dates, p. 89).i 

86. Lines 183-100: 

/ have but this to say. 

That he's not onfy plagued for her sin. 
But Ood hath made her sin and her the plague 
On this removed issue, pUigu'dfor her 
A nd with her plagtte, her sin: his injury. 
Her injury, — the beadle to her sin, — 
All punish' d in the person if this child, 
Atid all for her—roK HER : a plague tipon her! 
A conscientious attempt to make sense of the above, as 
printed in the folio, will ensure a severe headache. We 
liave followed, substantially, Henley's arrangement and 
punctuation of the passage (see Var. Ed. vol. xv. p. 234X 
with the exception of line 188, which Henley prints : 

Her injury, the beadle to her sin, 

I In Notes and Queries («th, S XII. p. 187) Dr. J. A. H. Murray 
gives no less than four instances of the use of this word before 1547 : 
From (i) Skeltoa'k Why come ye nat to Courte. 1520-30: "Such a 
madde bedleme for to rewle this realme.'* (3) Sir T. More, 1533, ia 
his Answer to the Poysoned Boke (Works, X5S7. foL ioj6); (3) R. 
I3ames, 1541 (Works, 1573. p. 994); and (4) from Coverdale, 154S 
Abrid)(ement of Erasmus' Enchiridion, ch. Hi., "to be fools, to be 
deceived, to doat. and to be mad btdtamts." It would seem from 
these quotatioas that the origin of the word btdlam given above is 
not correct 


and line IfiO, in which we have ventured to repeat /or htt 
in order to complete the metre. It mast be remembered 
that plagusd (line 184) here means " puniahed. " Compare 
Richard III. L 3. 181: 

And God, not we, hath fiagmd thy bloody deed. 

Henley explalnt the beadle to her tin: " her injury, or the 
evil she inflicts, he suffers from her, at the beadle to her 
sin, or executioner of the poniahroent annexed to it" 
(Var. Ed. vol xr. p. 284X Fleaj explaina it: " the injuy 
inflicted by her, being the l>eadle, the chastiser (in 
Arthur's sufferings) of her original wrong-doing.** Bnt 
explain it as we may, the passage is quite unworthy of 
Shakespeare, being wilfully obscure and unnecessarily 
involved. It may here be observed that this wrangling 
between Constance and Eleanor reminds us of the well- 
known scene in Richard IH. (i. 8) where Queen Margaret 
rates Queen Elizabeth of York so souudly. 

87. Line 196: /oCRT aim.— The real origin of thisphrsse 
seems very doubtful. Schmidt explains it thus: "sn 
expression borrowed from archery, « to encourage ths 
archers by crying out aim, when they were about to 
shoot, and then in a general sense to applaud, to ea- 
courage with cheers;" but is this a satisfactory explaai- 
tion ? The exclamation " Well aimed ! " or rathtrr ' Well 
shot! ** might express encouragement and approval, but 
how could the simple cry of " Aim "(= Fire!) express anj 
idea of applause? U Schmidt is right the expression is 
a violently elliptical one. Johnson says: " Bat I rather 
think that the old word of applause was J'aitne, Hove it, 
and that to applaud was to cry fPaime, which the Eng- 
lisli, not easily pronouncing Je, sunk into aime, or aim. 
Our exclamations of applause are still borrowed, as hrsnt 
and encore " (Vbt. Ed. vol. xv. p. 2»5). This is certaiuljr 
a more plausible explanation, though Uie reason for the 
omission of Je Is not very clear; but I very mach doabt 
whether the true history of the phraae hat yet been dis- 
covered. Compare Merry Wives, ill. 2. 44, 45: - to thm 
violent proceedings all my neighbours shall cry atm." 

Since writing the al>ove note I have come acrcw tkt 
foUowing in the City Gallant (1509): "we '11 stand by snd 
give aim, and halloo, if you hit the clout" (Dodsley. toL 
xi. p. 240). Is the expression to give aim the same ss f^ 
cry aim, and does it mean that the competitors at u 
archery match gave the signal to the competitor whtns 
they encouraged by cryhig aim! Perhaps they stood Ik- 
hind the shooter, and gave him the word when he hai 
covered the object, much as a bowler gives the block at 

88. Line 200: endamagemtnt^ThU word occurs onlj 
in this passage; but It is worth noting that Shakespesn 
uses the verb " to endamage" in two of his emrliest plsfK 
and only there, viz., in Two Gent, of Verona, iii I A 
and in I. Henry VI. iL 1. 77. 

88. Line 215: CoNFBONTS your city's eyet.—r.l,f% 
read Comfort yours; F. 3, F. 4, Comfort yowr. The cor- 
I rection Lt Capell's. 

90. Line 233: Forwearied.—Compsat Spenser's Fsiry 
Queen, i. Ix. 13: " Forwearied with my sportea** Clisawf 
u»e% fortccarie (Romaunt of the Rose, 8S96X 

ACT IL SoeiM 1. 


ACT II. SoeiM 1. 

91. Lines 247, 248: 

To pay that duty irAtdk you truly owe 

To him that owes it, namely, thie young prince. 

S'ot« here the verfo owe med In two different aentet in 
two comecatfTe linei. Compare above in Constance*! 
speech (lines 187, 188) the double use of injury in the 
paniTe and actlYe sense respectively. 

M. Line 250: routtdure.—Bpelt in Fl roumUr; but in 
Sonnet xxL 8 it is printed rondure. It is fkx>m the French 
rondure, which is used in the same sense of "round." 

tt. Line 2^8: For kirn, and in hie right, we hold thit 
town.— Taken almost eerbatim from a prose speech in the 
old plaj "and for him, and in his right, we hold our 
Tuwne" (Troublesome Raigne, p. 244X 

M. Line 272: Have we ramm'd up our gates.— Thi% 
Menis a peculiar use of the verb to ram, which none of 
the critics appear to hare noticed. The meaning proba- 
bly is that by the use of rame they had driven wedges 
between the gates to prevent them opening. 

86. Line 293: And make a monster qf you.— Compare 
4):hello, iv. 1. 03: "A homed man's a tnoneter." 

96. Lines 315, 31«: 

Their armours, that mareh'd henee so silver-bright. 
Hither return all gilt with FrenehtnsH's blood. 

Compare Macbeth, li 8. 117, 118: 

Here lay Duncan. 
His sitver skin Uc'd with his golden blood. 

Autl Chapman's Homer, Iliad, book xvi. p. 102: 
The curets frora Rreat Hector's breast, aWeiidtd with his^v/r. 

97 Unes 321-323: 

And, like a jolly troop qf htintsmen, come 
Our lusty English, all with purpled hands. 
Dyed in the dtiro slaughter of their foes. 

This refers to one of the customs of the chase in Shake- 
speare's time, by which those who hunted the deer stained 
their hands in the blood of the animal when killed ; just 
AS nowadays in foz-hnnting, when the fox is killed, any 
uovice in the kvnting field, who may be in at the death, 
is smeared with the blood of the fox after the brush has 
been cat ofl. I am informed, however, that the custom 
is rapidly dying onl Compare Julius Gaasar, ill 1. 2M- 


Here wast thou bay'd, brave heart ; 

Here didst thou fall ; and here thy hunters stand, 

Sq^'d in thy spoil, and crimton'd in thy UUu. 

There is an obvioas pon In line 383 which seems to 
hare been rather a favourite one with authors of that 
period. Halliwell quotes Heywood's Epigrams, 1562: 
' Dyers be ever dying but never dMod.'* 

91. Lines 8f5-S38u— This speech— as well as all the re- 
maining ones of the First Citisen— is given in the Folio 
to Hub. Le. Hmbert; perhaps, as Collier suggested, be- 
cause the same player who played Hubert doubled the 
part of the First CfHten. 

99 Lines 3S7. 328: 

whose equality 

By our beat ayes aamsot be dXSCRSlK 

Censured is generally explaine<l as=" estimated," ''de- 
termined." But does it not rather mean here "ques- 
tioned?" The sense seems to be, that the two armies 
have shown themselves to be so equally matched that 
the citizens cannot say which is the superior; as the 
speaker says below (line 331): 

Both are alike ; and both alike we like. 

100. Line 335: Say, shatt the current qf our right RUH 
onl— So F.2. F. 3, F. 4: the reading of F. 1 is roam, to 
which Malone adhered ; but as Steevens aptly remarks: 
"The King would rather describe his right as running on 
in a direct than in an irregular course, such as would be 
implied by the word roam" (Var. Ed. vol. xv. p. 242). 
And compsre below, v. 4. 50, 57 : 

And calmly run on in obedience 

Even to our ocean, to our great Kinff John. 

101. Line 354 : xousiNO thefiesh of men. —Pope proposed 
to read mouthing; but there is no need to alter the text. 
Malone says: "Mousing is, I suppose, msmocking, and 
devouring eagerly, as a cat devours a mouse** (Var. Ed. 
vol. XV. p. 243). Ue quotes Mids. Night's Dream, v. 1. 
274: " Well moused lion! " and Thomas Decker's Wonder- 
ful Year. 1603: "Whilst Troy was swilling sack and 
sugar, aud tnouging fat venison, the mad Greekes made 
boiiflres of their houses" (Var. Ed. vol. xv. p. 243X 

108. Line 357: Cry "havoc," kingn !— 'Compare Julius 
Ca»ar, iii. 1. 273 : 

Cry, " havoc," and let slip the dogs of war. 

The cry was a signal that no quarter was to be given. 

103. Line 358: Vou equal POTENTS, /iery kindled spiriU! 
—Walker proposed to read equal-potent; but the fact that 
potent has a capital P in F. 1 points to the conclusion 
that it was meant to be a separate word = potentates. 
Steevens quotes: "Ane verie excellent aud delectabill 
Treatise intitulit Philotus. <fcc. 1003: ' Ane of the potentes 
of the town'" (Var. Ed. vol. xv. p 244). 

101 Line 368: A greater poufer than uv.— This speech is 
given by FT. to the King of France. Theobald altered we 
to ye; the meaning is rather doubtful whether the 
speaker refers to Providence who has left the issue unde- 
cided by battle, or to their fears (see below line 371). 

106. Line 871: KiNO'D qf our fears.— ¥1. rea«;: "Kings of 
our fear; " but as Malone says: "It is manifest that the pas- 
sage in the old copy is corrupt, and that it must have been 
so worded, that their /(sarv should be styled their kings or 
masters, and not they, kittgs or masters of their fears; 
because in the next line mention is made of these fears 
being deposed" (Var. Ed. vol. xv. p. 245). We And the 
participle king'd used in the same sense in Henry V. ii. 

4. 26: 

For, my good lieKe, she (i.t. England) is so idly kin^d. 

106. Line 373: these BCROTLSS (\f Angiers.—Seroyle is 
from French EseroueUes, i.e. "scabby, scrophulous fel- 
lowa" It was a term of great contempt. Ben Jonsou 
uses it in Every Man in his Humour, L 1: "hang them, 
scroyles" (Works, vol. i. p. 10); and again in the Poetaster, 
iv. 1 : "I cry thee mercy, my good scroyle, was't thou?" 
(Works, vol. ii. p. 471)i 


ACT II. Scene 1. 


ACT II. Some 1. 

107. lines 878-S80 : 

Do like the mutinet of Jerusalem, 
Befriends awhUe, and both conjointly bend 
Your sharpest deeds qf malice on this toum. 

For mutines=mntiiieenf rebeUs, Malone quotei m puMge 
in A CorapeDdious and Most Marvellous History of the 
Latter Times of the Jewes Common- Weale. &c. Written 
in Hebrew, by Joseph Ben Gorion^— translated into Sng- 
lish, by Peter Morwyn, 1575. which may have been read 
by Shakespeare and have suggested the allusion, which is 
not in the old play. The passage is too long to quota in 
its entirety; but it describes how the i>eople of Jerusa- 
lem were divided into three parties, and how when Titus 
was "encamped upon mount Olivet, the captaines of 
the seditious assembled together, and fell at argument, 
ever}' man with another, intending to tume their cruelty 
upon the Romaines, confirming and ratifying the same 
atonement and purpose, by swearing one to another; and 
so became peace amongst them " (Var. Ed. vol. xv. p. 247). 
The corresponding speech of the Bastard in the old play 
is vef}' bald, and will serve as a specimen to show how 
Shakespeare impryved on his original : 
^ Basf. Mif^ht Philip counsell two so mighrie kinj^s. 

As are the Kings of England and of Fraunce, 

He would aduise your Graces to vnite 

And knit your forces gainst these Citizens. 

Pulling their battered wals about their ears. 

The Towne once wonne, then striue about the claim. 

For they are minded to delude you both. 

—Troublesome Rajgne, p. 347. 

108. Line 424 : Is NIECK to England.— F. 1, F. 2 have 
neere; F. 3, F. 4 tiear. The emendation is Collier'a In 
line 64 above of this same scene we have: 

With her (i.e. {}nreu Jihnor), her .VIF.CE, the Lady Blanch of Spain. 

And again below (line 400) : 

Give with 6ur NIHCK a dowry lar^fc enough. 

And again (line 521), " What say you, my niece J" In this 
latter passage the spelling of F. 1 is tieeee. The two words 
neece, neere, may easily be mistaken for one another. 
Compare Two Gent of Verona, iv. 1. 49, where F. 1, F. 2 
have neece, which Theobald altered to near^ an emenda- 
tion generally adopted, but unnecessarily. (See Two Oent 
of Verona, note 91.) 

109. Line 434: If not complete, OH I sayJieisnot she.— 
Ff. read "complete o/," which is explained: *'oomplete 
thereof," "full of those qualities." But the emendation 
of Hanmer, which we have adopted, is certainly most 
plausible, and gets rid of a very awkward phrase for 
which there appears to be no necessity. Compare line 441 

O, two such silver currents, when they join. 

110. Line 436: Tf teant it be, BUT that she is not he.— We 
have adopted the independent conjecture of Mr. Swynfen 
Jervis and Mr. Lettsom, in place of the reading of Ff. not. 

If want it be not that she is not he 

seems to make very poor sense, and fails entirely to pro- 
vide the natural antithesis to line 434 above. 

111. Line 438: lj4ft to be finished by such a she.—¥t, 
read ' ' as she. " The correction is Theobald's. 


lis. Lines 455, 466: 

Here 's a 8TAT 

That shakes the rotten carcass c/old J>0ath. 

Many emendations have been proposed in place of the 
word stay; such as/au> (Johnson); say (Becket); story at 
storm (Spedding); but no alteration of the text is neces- 
sary. Stay here means " some one" or "something that 
stops or stays your progress." This explanation seems 
more probable than that which would take stay in the 
same sense as that in which it is used below (r. 7. 68): 

What surety of the world, what hope, what STAY, 
where it means "support" Schmidt takes it to be the 
imperative of the verb used in a substantive form ; bot 
as Steevens has pointed out: "Churchyard, in his Siege 
of Leeth, 1575, having occasion to speak of a trumpet that 
sounded to proclaim a truce, says : 

This s/aye of warre made many men to muse." 

— Var. Ed. *oL xt. p. ty. 

And a similar use of the word, in which the active sense 
is not lost sight of, is not uncommon. As for the argu- 
ment that an obstacle could not shake " the rotten car- 
cass of old Death" propriety is not always to be looked 
for in Shakespeare's similes and tropical expressiops, 
especially in his earlier playa 

118. Line 462: He speaks plain cannon^— /ire, and smote, 
and bounce.— This line we have arranged as Capell did, 
not as usually printed : 

He speaks plain cannon fire. &c. 

Compare the well-known line in Hamlet, iiL 2. 414 : 

I will SPEAK DAGGERS to her, but use none. 

114 Lines 464-467: Our ears are cudgelCd; ^tc C^nptre 
Taming of the Shrew, L 2. 209, note 64. 

116. Lines 477-479: 

Lest lealt now melted by the windy breath 
Of soft petitions, pity, and remorse. 
Cool and congeal again to what it was. 

There is no doubt that zeal is compared here to melted 
ice which freezes again, and not, as Steevens thonght, to 
" metal in a state of fusion. " Compare iil. 4. 149, 150- 
This act, so evilly bom, shall COOL the hearts 
Of all his people, and FREEZE UP their aeaL 

110. Line 500: Becomes a snr, and makes your mm • 
sAodow. — F.l, F. 2 have «onne,F. 8, F. 4 aoa. Bowtftnt 
substituted sun. It is clear that the wretched pun wsi 
, intended. 

117. Lines 501-508 : 

/ do protest I never lov'd myself , 

Till now infixed 1 beheld mysel; 

Drawn in the flattering table qf her eye. 
Allusions to the miniature reflection of one's face, assiie 
in the pupil of another's eye, are very naneroms In tb* 
poets of Shakespeare's time. Compare with this psiff 
the following one from Beaumont's Salmads and fht' 
maphroditus : 

" How should I lore thee, when I do espy 

A far more beauteous nymidi hut im tf^y tyt* 

When thou dost lore let not that nymph be atgli tiMt, 

Nor. when thou woo'st, let tfiat lame nymph be by thcc; 

Or quite obscure her from thy lorer's face. 

ACT n. 


ACT UI. Scene 1 

Or hide h«r beatitr ia a darker ptece." 

By this the aympb perceived ht didetfy 

Xtmt but himu*i/ r^tettd in her ^ye. 

— Works. ToL U. p. 699. 

118 Lines 527-690.— Shaketpeare has- perhapt in order 
to condense the scene somewhat, it being very long in the 
old plaj— made an alteration )n the details of this scene, 
the effect of which is to set John's character in a more 
nnfaroorahle light. In The Troublesome Baigne John 
offers, in addition to "her dowrle ont of Spaine," thirty 
thousand marlcs; but King Philip demands the provinces 
as well John hesitates at first, but Queen Eleanor advises 
him to yield, which he does in these words: 

And here fai mariai^ 1 doo gine with her 
From me end my Successors En|;Udi Kings, 
VolquessoQ. Poiters, Anjoo, Torain. Main, 
And thirtie thousand markes of stipend coyne. 

— Troubiesocne Kai{;ne, p. 9$o. 

119. Line 632: dnnmand thy §on and daughter to join 
hand*. —This was the old ceremony of betrothal, and was 
formerly celebrated in church according to a proper 
ritual, as it is now in the Greek Church. In the services 
of the Church of Some and the Church of Kngland the 
ceremonies, formerly observed at the betrothal, are ab- 
sotbtMl into the marriage service; for instance, the hold- 
ing of the right hand of each other in turn by the bride 

and bridegroom while repeating the words: " I take 

thee to my wedded wife,'* or " husband," &c. In the 

Koman Church the bridegroom gives the bride gold and 
silver, a custom which existed in Uie ceremony of be- 
trothal among the Franks before their conversion to 

ISO. Lines 551-663.— In the old play the corresponding 
passage stands thus: 

Arthur, although thoa troublest Engiands peace 
Yet here I giue thee Brittaine for thine owne. 
Toffcther with the Eartedome of Richmont, 
And this rich Citie of Angiers withalL 

—Troublesome Raigne, p. 9^. 

in. Line 5«S: Hath wittingly dbpartkd with a part.— 
See Love's Labour 's Lost, note 4S. 

Itt Line 600: rounded in the car.— Compare Winter's 

Tale, i. 2. 217, 218: 

whispering, rounding 

And in Middleton's A Mad World my Masters, iii. 8: 
" Then is yonr grandsire rwLnded T UC ear'* (Works, voL 
H. p. 881> 

m. Line 684: UaJQi drawn him from hit own deter- 
min'd AID. —Mason has the following note: " The word 
eye in the line preceding, and the word own^ which can 
ill agree with aid, indncet me to think that we ought to 
read— 'his own determined aim* Instead of aid. His own 
aid is Utile better than nonsense " (Yar. Ed. voL xv. p. 
2S0). But aa Bolfe suggests: hit own determined aid may 
mean "the aid he had determined to give." Collier 
adopted Mason's suggestion into the MS. corrections. 

ACT III. Scene 1. 

HI Line 24: Be theae SAP sroHS eonjirmert qf thy 
word* ;— By tkeae tad tiffnt Constance means* as Malone 
points oat, the shaking of his head, the laying his hand 

on his breast, and, he might have added, the lamentable 
rheum in his eyes mentioned Just above. Warburton. 
quite unnecessarily, substituted tight for tignt. Compart> 
Venus and Adonis (lines 920. 030) : 

So she at thete tad signs draws up her breath. 
And sighing it again, exclaims on Death. 

116. Line 42: I do heteeeh you, madam, be content.— I 

do not think that, on the strength of this line one can, as 

Clarke does (vol. ii. p. 20, note 7), build any theory that 

Arthur was lacking in affection towards his mother. The 

boy was naturally alarmed at her vehemence; gently, and 

respectfully, he seeks to calm her agitation. Dramatic 

exigencies forbid any long speech on his part. For a 

similar use of the word content compare Richard IL v. 

2. 80-82: 

y'arJb. Peace, foolikh woman. 

Dnch. I will not peace. &c. 

A urn. Good mother, ft content. 

U8. Lines 43-47. —Compare Massinger's Unnatural Com- 
bat, iv. 1: 

If thou hadst been bom 

Deform'd and crooked in the features of 

Thy body, as the manners of thy mind*; 

Moor lipp'd. Aat-nosed, dim-eyed, and beetle-brow 'd. 

With a dwarfs stature to a giant's waist ; 

I had been blest. 

—Works, p. 54- 

117. Line 40: prodi^iotu.— Compare Richard III. i. 2. 

21, 22: 

If ever he have child, abortive be it. 

Prodigious, and untimely brought to light. 

Also in Middleton and Dekker's Honest Whore, i. 1: 

Twice hath he thus at cross-turns thrown on us 

Prodigious looks. 

— Works, vol. iii. p. 5. 

118. Lines 68-70: 

/ wiU inMruct my torroict to he proud ; 

For grief is proud and makes hit'oumer ttoop. 

To me, and to the ttate qf my great grief, Ac. 

The meaning of this passage is tolerably plain, in spite u( 
the various efforts that have been made to amend it. 
Hanmer would substitute ttout for ttoop; but no altera- 
tion is required. Constance says she wiU inttruet her 
torrowt to be proud; and adds that grief or torrow is 
proud, and makes hit owner, i.e. the person who owns the 
grief or torrow, ttoop beneath its weight Before that 
grief, sitting in state as it were, she would make kitigt 
assemble: end l>efore her and her torrow Uiey should bow 
down. The metaphor and the various ideas expressed are 
alike rather confused; but this is not unnatural, con- 
sidering the agitation of the speaker, and is quite in 
keeping with the style of .Shakespeare's earlier playa 

119. Line 78: here 1 and sorrow ttt.—¥i. read torrowt. 
The emendation is Pope's. Probably the t of torrowt was 
caught from the next word tit. Certainly the plural 
number seems out of place, and spoils the force of tlie 

180. Lines 77. 73: 

To tolemnize thit day the gloriout tun 
Stayt in hit eourte, and playt the ALCHEMIST. 


ACT III. Soeiie 1. 


ACT III. SoeiM 1. 

Compare Sonnet xxxiii. 1-4: 

Full many a gtaritu morning have I seen 
Flatter the mountaiu-tops with sovereign eye, 
Kissini; with golden face the meadows j^recn. 
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy. 

It is always interesting to mark any similarity of expres- 
sion between the sonnets and the earlier plays, in view 
of the theory that the sonnets were written by Shake- 
speare when young; this is, certahily, a remarkable one. 

181. Lines 87, 88: 

Say, rather turn thii day out of the week, 
Thie day qf ehame, oppreeeion, perjury. 

The allusion in line 87 is, perhaps, as Upton pointed out, 
to Job iii. 3: " Let the day perish wherein I waa bom," 
and again (verse 6) " let it not be Joined unto the days of 
the year, let it not come into the number of the months." 
There is a resemblance to this speech of Constance in one 
of Hippolito's, in the flrst part of The Honest Whore (by 
Dekker and Middleton), i. 1: 

Curs'd be that day for ever that robb'd her 
Of breath and uie of bliss ! henceforth let it stand 
Within the wizard's book, the calendar, 
Mark'd with a mar{;inal fin);er, to be chosen 
By thieves, by vtllainit, and black murderers. 
As the best day for llieni to labour in. 

— Middlcton's Works, vol. iii. p. 9. 

133. Line 91 : Lent that their hopes PRODIGIOUSLY be 
croti'd; i.e. be disappointed by the production of a mon- 
ster, a prodigy. Compare note 127 above. 

133. Line 90: Voii have begxiiVd me with a COUNTER- 
FEIT. —Though counterfeit in Shakespeare generally 
means a picture, here it undoubtedly means a false coin; 
for in the next line Constance speaks of it as being touch'd 
and tried, though the word may be intended to bear here 
the double meaning. 

134. Lines 102. 103: 

You came IN arms to spill inine enemies' blood. 
But now IN ARMS you strengthen it with yours. 

Johnson was probably right in pointing out that a pun is 
intended here; as, in the second line, in arms means " in 
friendly embraces." 

136. Line 105: Is cold in amity and PAINTED peace.— 
Collier's MS. substituted faint in for painted; but Con> 
stance means to imply that the friendship and peace be- 
tween her former allies and her enemies was unreaL 

136. Line 110: ere SUN set.— Ff. "ere sunset." I had 
altered sunset to sun set before I saw that Mr. Fleay had 
made the same suggestion. Shakespeare accentuates 
sunset on the Arst syllable in Sonnet Izxili. 6: 

As after sunset fadeth in the west. 

And again in Romeo and Juliet, iii. 5. 127, 128; 

When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew ; 
But for the sunset of my brother's son. Sec. 

There we have stin sets and the noun sunset coming close 

together, the accent being in the first case on sets, and 

in the second on sun. The only passage in which sunset 

is accentuated on the last syllable is in III. Henry VI. ii. 

± 116: 

But ere tun t*t IH make the« curse the deed. 


This passage is, however, not generally attributed to 
Shakespeare, and in the old play (The True Tragedie of 
Richard Duke of Yorke) the line is printed : 

And ere sutine s«t lie make thee curse the deed. 

(See Uazlitt's Shak. Lib. pt 2, voL iL p. 42.) 

187. Line 129: A-nd hang a CALF'S -skin on those re- 
creant limbs.—Thongh there is no doubt m great contrait 
between a lion and a calf, and Uie skin of the latter msy 
be held to typify cowardice just as that of the former 
would typify courage; yet it may be doubted whether the 
allusion is not, primarily, to the "calfs-akin coat" won 
by the iooU in old time. In Wily Beguiled (1600) we 
have in the Prologue: 

His cal/'Skin Jests from hence are clean exil'd. 

— Dodsley. vol. ix. p. «3. 

And again Robin Ooodfellow says in the play itself : 'ill 
rather put on my flashing red nose and my flaming face, 
and come wrapped in a ceAfs skin, and cry Bo bo" (Dods- 
ley, voL ix. p. 256). From these, and several other pts- 
sages, in which the expression ealf-skin or ee^s linn 
occurs, it is evident that it was the distinctive dress of 
the fool, or one of the "clowns," as the comic charactcn 
are frequently described in old plays. The latter would 
frequently play mischievous tricka in different disgaiseSk 
and were generally cowards as well at fools. 

138. Lines 142-144: 

and, force perforce. 

Keep Stephen Langton, chosen archbishop 

Of Canterbury, from that holy seef 

The dispute between King John and the pope, on the 
subject of the election of Stephen Langton, may be thiu 
briefly summarized. A contest had for a long time been 
going on between the king and the bishops, on the cue 
side, and the monka of Christ Church, on the other, who 
both claimed the right to elect the Archbiahop of Can- 
terbury. On the death of Archbishop Hubert in July, 
1205, the monks assembled secretly by night, and elected 
their sub-prior Reginald to be archbishop. He left at 
once for Rome to procure the conflrmation of his elec- 
tion by the pope. On his way he assnme<l the title ct 
Archbishop Elect. A deputation was promptly sent by 
the bishops of the province of Canterbury to protest 
against his election ; and the king, meanwhile, had al- 
ready determined to confer the primacy on hia f^vovlte 
John de Grey, Bishop of Norwich. The bishops siped 
an histrument withdrawing their claims to any shars is 
the election of the archbishop. The king went to Csa- 
terbury and ordered the monks to proceed at once to the 
election. They elected the Bishop of Norwich; and a d6 
putation of six monks, with authority to act In the naiae 
of the whole body, waa sent to Rome. The pope, Iom- 
cent III., pronounced both elections null and void, sad 
recommended Stephen Langton, an RngUahntan, redor 
of the University of Paris, who waa then in Rome; to tto 
monks, who duly elected him. The pope wrote to sA 
the king's assent, but received no anawer; and Langtoa 
was consecrated Archbishop of Canterbury at Titerbcs in 
June, 1207. John waa furious; he drove tlie iBonkicnt 
of their convent by violence, and vowed thai Laag^ 
should never set foot in En^and aa primala. The psfs 

ACT III. Seeae 1. 


ACT III. Scene 1 

bad Doir reconne to the rery strong measure of an inter- 
dict The diqmte raged tUl 16th Maj, 121S. when John 
made hia sabmiaakm to the pope, and accepted Stephen 
Laugton aa archbiabop. 

189 Lfnea 147. 148: 

What KAKTHLT name to intermgatorien 
Can TASK the free bbkath of a taered Hngf 

Ff. read earthit. Earthly is Pope's emendation. F. 1, 
F 2 hare taet instead of taeik, which is Theobald's inge- 
nious correction. Compare Henry V. L 2. 6,6: 

some things of weight 
That task our thoughts, concerning ui and France. 

Breath is used = " speech " not uufrequently in Shalie* 
speare. Compare Merchant <rf Venice, ii. 9. 90: 

besides comiaends and coarteocn bmtk. 

Tlie meaning of these two lines is: " What earthly name 
appended to interrogatories can force a king, whose office 
is sacreil. and whose speech is free, to answer them?" In > 
the old play the speech runs thtu: "And what hast thou 
or the Pope thy maister to doo to demanud of me, how 1 
employ mine own? Know Sir Priest, as 1 hitnour the 
Church and holy Churchmen, so I scome to be subiect to 
the greatest Prelate in the world. Tell thy Maister so 
from roe. and say, John of England said it, that neuer an 
Italian Priest of them all, shal either haue tythe, tole, or 
polling penie out of England; but aa I am King, ao will I 
rai^e next vnder God. supreame head both ouer spiritual 
and temrall: and bee that contradicts me In this. He make 
him hopiM; headlesae" (Troublesome Raigne, pp. 264, 255). 
lliat gentle- minded and immaculate reformer, Henr>- 
VIII.. might certainly have spoken that speech. 

140. Lines 174-179: 

And blesBed ehaU Ae be that doth revolt 
Protn hi§ aiUgianee to an heretic; 
And meritorioui thall that hand be eaWd, 
Candniud, and wonh^'d as a BaifU, 
That takes away by any secret courts 
Thy haUful life. 

Id the old play the sentence of excommunication ta given 
thus: *'Then I Pandnlph of Padoa, legate from the 
Apoaiolike aea, doe in the name of Saint Peter and hia 
■acceaaof our holy Father Pf^M Innocent, pronounce thee 
aeemrmd, dfachaivtiiff erery one of thy snbjectea of all 
dtttie and fealtle thai they do owe to thee, and pardon 
and ftfrgJTtneiie of dime to tboae or them whateTer 
wUeh dial! emrrie mrmes agahiat thee or murder thee: 
Thfa I proDonnce, and charg« all good men to abhorra 
thee aa an exeommanUats penon " (Troublesome Raigne, 
p. S6>. ProlNibly, there ia an allnsfon to the Boll of 
Plus v.. 1569, which waa signed by the pope on 26th 
Pebnuury. 1670; on 8th Angnat, in the aame year. Pel ton 
was executed for the poblieation of it Johnaon thought 
that theae linea nlglil refer to the Onnpowder Plot, in 
which ease they noal hare been added long after the 
irrt prodoctfon of the play. 

14L Une SCO: In likeness of a new UMTRIMMRD bride.— 

Dyee propoaed new UP-nUMM ID in the aenae of " newly- 

dreaaed-qp." qnotlng Roneo and Jaliet, ir. 4. 24: 
Go vaken Juliet, go and trim her up. 

There is no dou)»t that to trim meant "to dreaa more or 
less finely " and not simply "to clothe;" so that those 
commentators who maintain that the meaning of un- 
trimmed is undrest hare gone, probably, a little too far. 
At the most it would mean only in d/»habilU; but the 
epithet here might refer to the fact that Blanch was not 
fully dressed as a bride should be. I cannot see any 
reason for Grant White's statement that here is an allu- 
sion to the temptation of St. Anthony. For the use of 
trimmed - " smartly dressed, " compare Two Gent, of Ver- 
ona, iv. 4. 106: 

And I was trimm'dva Madam Julia's gown, 

and in III. Henry VI. U. 1. 24: 

Trimm'd like a younker prancing to liis love 

That Blanch could not hare been trimm'd, in this sense, 
is erident from the haste with which the marriage was 
celebrated. See above, ii. 1. 650. 680: 

Go we. as well a< A.ixfir will suffer us. 
To this uulook'd/or, uuft tpartd \\om^. 

But another meaning has been as8igne<l to untrimmed 
with much plausibility, namely, that it refers to tlie cus- 
tom of brides going with thei^ Iiair dishevelled. Fleay, 
who is of this opinion, quotes Tancred and Gismunda, 

V. 2: 

Sn let thy tresses, flaring in the wind, 

i'fierimm^d hing about thy bared neck. 

— DofUley, vol. vJI. p. 96. 

14S. Lines 211-216. -This speech of Constance is very 
characteristic of Shakespeare's earlier style; in its elab- 
orate antithesis and play up<m words it rivals some of 
the most affected speeclies in Richard II. Compare 
Oaunt's speeches in act ii. sceue 1 of that play. 

lis. Line 286: To clap this royal bargain UP qf peace.— 

To elap t<p="to clap hands," aa used in Henry V. r. 2. 

133: "and so etop hands and a bargain." The reference 

is undoubtedly to the formal pledging by lovers of their 

troth before marriage, one party putting his or her hand 

in that of the other. Compare Taming of the Shrew, ii. 

1. 327: 

Was ever match cl.if/d uf so suddenly? 

144 Line 242: Play FAST AND LOOSE wifh faith. -This 
ver}' common expression had ita origin, apparently, from 
a cheating game played by gypsies and other vagrants, of 
which the following description is found in Nares: " It is 
said to be still used by low sharpers, and is called priek- 
iiiij at the belt or girdle. It is thus described: 'A leathern 
belt is made up into a number of intricate folds, an<l 
placed edgewise upon a table. One of the folda is made 
to resemble the middle of the girdle, ao that whoever 
should thrust a akewer into it would think he held it fast 
to the table; whereas, when he haa so done, the person 
with whom he plays may take hold of both ends and 
draw it awny. Sir J. Hawkim.' The drift of it was. to 
encourage wagers whether it was fast or loose, which the 
Juggler could make it at his option." Compare Antony 
and Cleopatra, iv. 12. 28» 29: 

Like a right #i/(y, hath, at /ast attd l0»M, 
Beguil'd me to the very heart of toss. 

Frr>m the following passage (quoted by Nares) it would 
seem that the game was sometimes played with other 
stock in trade than a girdle: 


ACT III. Scene 1. 


ACT III. Soene 1. 

He like a ^psjr oftentimes would i^o. 
All kinds of gibberish he hath leam'd to know; 
And with a stick, a short string, and a noo»e. 
Would show the people tricks ai/ast ami locst. 

—Drayton's Mooncalf, p. 500. 

146. Line 251: Somt gentle order; then tee shall be bUH. 
— Ff. read " and then we shall be blest" Pope omitted 
then. We have adopted Letteom's suggestion that atid 
"seems to have intruded from the line below," and have 
omitted thab word instead of then. 

146. Line 260: A CHAFBD lion by the mortal paw.—Yt 
have caeed, which Dyce says could only mean "a lion 
stripped of }fi\A skin, flayed;" and he quotes All's Well, 
ill. 6. 110, 111: "Well make you some sport with the fox 
ere we case him " (See Nares, tub voce). Caged, chased, 
are amongst the various suggestions, while Steevens, re- 
taining the reading of Ff., says: " ' a eased lion ' is *a Hon 
irritated by conflnement.' So, in King Henry VI. pt UL 
act. i. sc. 3. lines 12, 13: 

So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch 
That trembles under his devouring pawk." 

Malone adds : " Again, in Rowley's When you See Me you 
Know Me, 1621: 

The Lyon in his ca£e\ is not so sterne 
As royal Henry in his wrathful spleene. 

Our author was probably thinking on the lions, which in 
his time, as at present, were kept in the Tower in dens so 
small as fully to justify the epithet he has used" (Var. 
£d. vol. XV. p. 280). This is plausible enough; but no in- 
stance has been adduced of a similar use of ease in this 
peculiar sense. Schmidt also prefers the reading of Ff., 
and explains caud as=:"a lion hid in his cave." Dyce 
in a note (50) on this passage says: "The right reading is 
undoubtedly *k chafed lion,' &c. In the following pas- 
sage of Beaumont and Fletcher's Philaster, where the 4to 
of 1620 has 'Chafd,' the other eds. have 'Chast,' and (let 
it be particularly observed) 'Cast:' 

And what there Is of vengeance in a Hon 

Chtt/'d among dogs or robb'd of his dear young, &c. 

—Act V. sc, 3. 

Moreover, iu our author's Henry VIII., we And: 

so looks the cha/td lion 
Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him, &c. 

— iii. a. ao6, ao;." 

We have adopted eha/ed as being, on the whole, the most 
probable reading. 

147. Lines 270-273: 

For that which thou host twom to do amisi 
Is not amiss when it is truly done, 
A nd being not done, where doing tends to iU, 
The truth is then most done, not doing it. 

The whole of this speech of Pandulph's, to which there is 
no parallel in the old play, is full of affected obscurities 
which are absolutely exasperating. Shakespeare was 
under the influence of Uiis hyper-antithetical style, which 
aimed at brevity and point, but only accomplished ob- 
scurity and tediousness. It may be that this speech is 

1 In the copy of this play in my possession the word is very indis- 
-tinct, and seems Intended for ragt more than <u^# (Edn. 1632, 
»ig, i. 3). 


intended to be a serious parody of so-caUed Jesuiticsl 
casuistry. In line 271 several commentaton have pro- 
posed to substitute some other word for not; bat no 
change of the text is necessary. As ICalone Justly o)»- 
serves, if we place the second part of the sentence ftnt, 
the meaning of the passage will be perfectly clear. It 
may be thus paraphrased: "Truth (that is religiow 
fldelity to one's oath) is best done by not doing that whidi 
is evil, even when you have sworn to do so; and thcr^ 
fore, what wrong you have sworn to do is not wrong if 
truly done, i.e. not done at all (in accordance with trvtl 
as I have explained itX" Johnson says: " T^ruth, throo^ 
the whole speech, means rectitude of conduct" (Var. Kd. 
vol. XV. p. 282). It may be so; and for such a use of tJK 
word, compare tlie Gospel of 8t John, iU. 21: "But k 
that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds msj 
be made manifest, that they are wrought in CKmL" 

148. Unas 270-284: 

It it religion that doth make vows kept; 

But thou hast sworn against religion: 

By that thou swear^st against the thing thou swear A BT. 

A^id mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth 

Against an oath: the truth thou art unsure 

To swear, swears only noC to be forsworn. 

In F. 1 the passage is printed thus: 

It is religion that doth make vowes kept. 

But thou hast swome against religion : 

By what thou swear'st against the thing thou swear'st. 

And mak'st an oath the suretie for thy truth. 

Against an path the truth, thou art vnsure 

To sweare. sweares onely not to be forswome. 

And 80 F. 2; but F. 3. F. 4 punctuate line 282 thus: 
And mak'st an oath the surety fur thy truth : 

The passage is very difficult to understand. We hare 
adopted Hanmer's alteration of what to that in line S81. 
and have ventured to insert by after swear't^, whkk 
makes the sense clearer. The by may easily have beta 
omitted, the transcriber only seeing the By tit the bsflB- 
ning of the line. The objection to such an emendatiea ii 
the extreme rarity of double endings in the verse of tkb 
scene. The meaning of the passage (lines 281-2tM). as «e 
print it, may be thus paraphrased: ' * By that {Le. by svesr- 
ing against religion) yon swear against that by whidi jm 
swear, and make your second oath the guarantee of yoar 
truth in not keeping your first one. TIm truth {is. tkt 
loyalty to the Church) to which you are unsure iie. hei* 
tatlng) to swear, takes an oath only with the object of 
not breaking it." and he adds (line 286): *' Bat yoa tske 
an oath only with the object of breaking it; "that is,faf 
taking an oath of fldelity to John, who was the dedami 
enemy of the Church to which he had already swum slk- 
glance, Philip was deliberately forswearing himself. Sour 
editors have altered swears in line 284 to swear (bnpen- 
tive); but the change is not necessary. Malone thoasbi 
tliat two half lines had been lost All attempts, how- 
ever, to render this passage clear most be only partiaOjr 
successful, the obscurity being intontionaL 

148. Line 280: rebellion to CAyte</'.— Compare Mack 
Ado. ii. 1. 243: "The Lady Beatrice hath a qnansl* 




ACT III. Scene 3. 

IM. Lfne SM: if thou voucHSAFK tAem. — Compare 
JaUu GMar, a L SU: 

y0itekMt/i food nonow frooi a feeble toQKuC' 

Ul. Line 808: loud ekurlith tfruMf.— Compare Ventu 
aod Adouifl, Une 107: 

Scornlag his churlish drnm and ensign red. 

lit. Line 890. Bngiand, I 'U FALL FROM (A««.— Compare 
III. Henry VL UL 8. 200: 

He 's very likely now va/aU/^m him. 

Itt. Line 880. rA«y vohiH asunder and dinnetnber me. 
— Tlie aUnaion ia probably, not to the Roman pnniihment, 
inflicted by Tullus Hoetiliui on Mettius Fnffetins for 
withdrawing the Alban troopi from the field of battle in 
the war with the Veientinet (see Virgil, jEneid, riil. 642). - 
namely, being torn to pieces by two chariots,— but to those 
puoithments inflicted, in Shakespeare's own time, on some 
murderers who were torn to pieces by wild horses: nota- 
bly, according to Halone, on BalUuuar de Gerrard, who as- 
sassinated William Prince of Orange in 1684 ; and on John 
Chastel for attempting to assassinate Henry IV. of France 
in lU^ (See Yar. Ed. vol. xir. p. 127.) 

154. Line 337: Lady, with tne; with me thy fortwie 
<ieff.— This is the punctuation usually adopted: Ff. have 
itiik me, with me. (^pell altered liee to Uvee because of 
Blanch's answer in the next line : 

There vhere ny fortune irves, there my life dies. 

But surely the antithesis between lioee and dies is made 
by Blanch independently of Lewis's speech. 

ACrr III. Scene 2. 

lU. Line 2: Some AlRr devil hovere iti the eky.— Theo- 
bald altered airy to Jlery "by Mr. Warbnrton's sugges- 
tion." The alteration was not only unnecessary, but 
quite out of place. Burton in his Anatomy of Melan- 
choly, pi 1, sec 2. memb. 1. subsec 2. in describing the 
ditferent sort of dsTila, tells us: " Aerial spirits or Devils 
are such aa keep quarter roost part in the air, cause many 
tempeata, thunder, and lightnings, tear Oaks, fire Steeples. 
HousM, strike men and beasts, make it rain stones, as in 
Livies time, Wooll, Frogs," Ac (p. 28, edn. 1676.) 

Iff. line 6: Bubert, keep THOU this boy. Philip, make 
up.—VL have: Hubert, keep thie boy, the defective syl- 
lable nuUdng a very halting verse. Pope inserted there 
before Hubert, The reading in the test is Tyrwhitt's, 
adopied by Djce. Though John had knighted the Bas- 
tard by the name of " Sir JHehard,'^ he here calls him by 
his former Christian name PkiUp. In the old play John 
does so constantly. 

ACT III. ScEK£ 3. 

117. Unea 1, S: 
So akaU U be; your grace ehaU ttay behind 
So einmgiy guarded. 

Lettsom saja tiM second so should be more. But if we 
refer to line 70 below of this scene we find that ()neen 
Eleanor had asked for some specified number of forces : 

I *n lend ih^f* /0Wtrt o'er to yonr majesty. 

So, therefore, although it looks very much like sn acci- 
dental repetition by mistake of the word in the line above, 
may be the right reading, the meaning being: " to utrongly 
guarded as you have asked to be." In the old play Queen 
Eleanor is left: 

As Regent of our Prouinces in Fraunce. 

—Troublesome Kaigne, p. 259. 

168. Lines 7-0: 

see thou ukake the bage 

0/ hoarding abbots; set at liberty 

Imprisoned angels. 

Ff. read: 

imprisoned angeUs 

Set at libertie; 

making two very unrhythmical lines. The transposition 
of the two sentences, which makes the metre perfect, was 
suggested by Walker. Shakespeare has very much toned 
down all that part of the old play which relates to the 
plundering of the monasteries by John, and contains 
coarse and vulgar abuse of the monks and uuus. 

159. Lines 9. 10: 

the /at libs (\f peace 

Must by tlte hungry NOW be fed upon. 

For now Warburton substituted war, and Hanmer maw. 

Steevens suggests that " the hungry now" is "the hungry 

instsnt," and quotes from Measure for Measure, ii. 2. 186, 


till this very tiou; 

When men were fond, I smil'd and wonder'd huw. 

But, unfortunately, that is only the conjectural reading 
of Pope. Ff. have "evek till now." Malone sug- 

Must by the hunf^ry soldiers now be fed on. 

It is most probable tliat Shakespeare uses Hie hungry in 
the same way as it is used in the Magnificat. " He hath 
filled the hungry with good things " (St Luke i. 53); that 
is, in a general and collective sense. 

160. Line 12: Bell, book, atul candle.— Dr. Grey quotes a 
long description of the old ceremony of excommunica- 
tion as "given by Henry Care," according to which tliree 
candles were severally extinguished at different points of 
the curse; but he only mentions " two wax tapers " at the 
beginning of his account (Grey's Notes on Shakespeare, 
vol. i. pp. 285. 286> (^mpare Marlowe's Doctor Fuustus 
(Qto., 1616): 

Br// bock and cand/t, — candle book and bell,— 
Forward and backward, to curse Faustus to hell. 

— Worki. p. iz\. 

161. Line 17: 
Eli. Farewell, MT gentle cousin. 
K. John. Coz, farewell. 

Ff. omit my; added by Pope. My is necessary to com- 
plete the metre; the two speeches are evidently intended 
to form only one line. 

16S. Line 26: But 1 will fit it with some better tiuk. - 
Ff. have tune: the emendation is Pope'a 80 in Macbeth, 
iv. 8. 235: "This time goes manly," instead of "This tune 
goes manly. " 

IAS. Line 89: Soutid ON into the drotesy "RACE 0/ night. — 
Theobald altered on into one, which Dyce adopts, together 



■ gnt«lul nor ■ Hi 

tuk U illflor trom > cot 

ouce u tciDpenta 

uid luniaJ u Kr. Djct 

Uinly k™. tu Di 

tint. In this cue it 

uC. he bu 

rr.ihl) »aopled Utentiolu which not oulj 

bat which Hbutulely 

nfeehle *nd 


paiugt. Let lu look It 


T\k king <lEClire> be hu lomclhlDg to uy lo 

Hubert, but 

he coma uoi writ 



That <i to ur. (he king; ii trying to plctun t> 


>ir III! Inb 

(Ian (0 tlubert. Now the queation l^ which 
preBHi thti— the undoubt«d memning of the pattage; the 
tnirf/iufAf Ml. •ounillng with Ita deep rsunint voice the 
hour or iDldnlght. the echuea of which voice Doat M it 
ncrr into the drowijr itreun of the uight, and linger for 
•■iRie time on the ear of the lliteDen; or the aanie bell 
•uuiidiug DIM oal)'— a ihurt •ound— which hu no time (o 
iDipreu (he Kiiaei. mid which heraldi the ipproaeh of 

Fore it li, neceuai 


1 of that houi 
1 mMniyhl: t 

irllT, > 

nii.prlnt*d ! 
la P. t prlnb 

Nor doe> it folic 

eatlly be miitakt 

II liie Hue sbutluteljr rec|ulred lar, we ihuuld 

tate to adopt it; but li not tlie tenie wenkeneU by luch 

changer Oa Hie other hand. It mutt be granted that D 

exactly ilmllar uie ol net caD be found 


etll. 10, 11 w 

But that 1« the odIi paoage I can find. In which raor la 
need at all in the mdh of coum, and that la not Tcry 

•■mUlrace,- when It ilgoinei "a iwilt alnam;" and 
here, being quallOed by the epithet droarn, the very 
paradoilcal uie oI the word would of iUelf be forcible. 
But il may be that met here meana " dlapoalUon," " na- 
luFE," B> Id TeiDpeW. I. 1. U8-3M): 

the (Igiii of InuDlt;. apropne of Hmlet'i thrica-repealed 
"ei«pt mjT ]iIe"<LI. £ SU), but It would rather leeB Id 
be lutsDded lu Indicate the brooding over aume nrlet « 
aniiet}'. Sometlmea Shakeipeare ua« the triple njiell 
tloD In onler to Inlenalfy the pathetic eipmaioD i4 tolH 
paaiage, u in AntODjr aiid Cleopatra, It. IS 11. It: 

Here, certainly, John it MeklDg to ImpreH Hubert with ibc 
deep trouble otblimlnd which itcauud by llie eilileitce 
of Arthur, and wlabei to be u pathetic aa poialblc. II 
nuy be here obaerveil that thl> line icene between JotD 
and Hulierl, one of the moat dnmatle blta io Ihl* tnced]. 
hu no parallel whatever In the old play. 

Ut. Une 

: auhtrtikaHbtyimrtii. 
-So R 1. F t: but F S, F. 4 hare Is aUewl, whlck mpi 
altered fallfnd tor the lake of the metiv. Batdoanallk' 
elliptical conatmctlon better exprew the aciUtM (tale ol 
John'a mindt 

A<7r lU. SCKNE 4. 
word amoifo, which li SI 

teen propuaad la place ol tontiflf^i 
atty for any change. The word mnil 
teipeare'i time, a meaning ttllcllj in 
Ivatlon. Compare the OM of f° «• 

keeping with iU derlvatlol 

Cymbellue, L 4. 104: "to ceiinna the honour of n; B<>^ 

MT Llneli: AieA(enperaleonlrrin»/frM<cira 
— Hsnnier. adopting a tuggeatlun of ThesbaM. •aWI' 
tnteil tBum for taiiti. Among other edllon. Dtc*>' 
SUunton adopt the ume reading, the latter eiplilM 
courK aa here '^ "the carrion of a hort*, oraehaiii, k> 
paiaageol anna.' But no changaof Ih* Uil ■e^i' 
coaary Catf. (mm meaning "theinniuliilaBBellaa.' 
came to mean the "action," or "couraeotacCte-RiriL 
US Unet IS, 19: 

HiMiiig tA' denial tpirSI. o^liur krr vA, 
In tht TlU pritmi qf afliettd hrrutk. 
For bnalK Fanner auggeated nirf A; hot, br the tOtyfl^ 
0} ajlicttd trtalA. Shakeipeare mean! Hr My vUA k 
the prlaon ol the breath of life So Hubert briov (h : 

' of night" Khakeipeare might hare ' 

iBboye,vii "courae'(uolaatreBin) 
to be preferred ; In whiob oaae, we 

id. Hear be adopted, wonld an; other 

nae uf the prepnellian b« ractolrvd. 

Conat Nt. I iiS» at eMwd, alt ndrmi. 

But Aalitkitkeiijt mil muuil. true nirak 
DraUt. dralk. 

ACT III. Scene 4. 


ACT III. Soone 4. 

Compare Antony and Cleoiwtra, It. 15. 2-4: 
Ckmr. Be comlinrted, dear madam. 
CUp. No, I wUl not: 

AB strange and terriUe evcats are wekoiiie. 

Bvt coeafortt we despise. 

171. line 85: And hum tkee at thy i^K^tf.— Strange ai it 
may teem. Pope altered bu»t to kiu. He forgot the well- 
known passage in the Fairy Queen, where Malbecco finds 
his wife amongst the satyrs, bk. iii. 3, c 10, st. 46: 

But evety Satyre first did give a busse 
To Hellenore; so bntxes did abound. 

Compare Ttoilos and Cressida, It. 5. 220: 

Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds. 

171. Line 42: a modern mvoeatiofk— Johnson says: "It 
is hard to say what Shakespeare means by nutdem: it 
is not opposed to atieunt." But from this passage, and 
the well-known Une in As Yon Like It, ii. 7. 156: 

FoU of wise saws and PH04i*m instances. 

and Macbeth, iv. 8. 169. 170: 

where violent sorrow keeins 
A modern ecstasy: 

OS well as from otiiers, in which Shakespeare uses it in a 
similar sense,it evidently means " trite," " commonplace," 

ITS. Line 44: Thou, art NOT holy to belie ins so.— F. 1, 
F. 2. F. 3 omit not, which was added in F. 4. Some editors 
read unholy. 

174. Lines 48, 40: 

/ am not tnad: 1 would to heaven I were ! 
Fur then, 't U like J should forget inyself. 

With this speech of Constance, compare Hamlet's defence 
of his sanity, ilL 4. 141-144: 

it is not madness 
That I have utter 'd : bring lue tu the test. 
And I the matter will re-word ; which madness 
Would gambol from. 

175. Line 64: ten thousand wiry friends.— Ff. read 
jUnds, which ia nonsense; the obvious emendation is 

17V. Line 68: To Bnyland, if you mU.— Surely it is not 
necessary to give thMe few words of Constance— evidently 
uttered when her distracted mind is not paying any atten- 
tion to what Philip had Just been saying— such a far- 
fetched meaning as some commentators have assigned to 
them. She does not mean: "Tell all that to England 
(i.e. to John);" nor does she mean, as Malone suggests, 
"Take my son to England if yon will;" still less is she 
addreaalng her hair, aa Staunton conjectures ; but she is 
moat probably answering what King ^lilip said to her 
when she first entered (see above line 20): 
I prithee, ladjr, go away with me. 
She has not yet given any reply to that request ; and, as 
she site brooding over her grief, she remembers he had 
asked her to go away with him and answers mechanically: 
" To En^and— if you wilL" Clarke takes the same view. 

177. Line SO: To him that did but yetUrday 8U8PIRB.— 
Suspire is only used by Shakespeare in one other passage, 
n. Henry IV. iv. 5. 83, 34: 

Did he suxfire, that %ht and weightless down 
Pe r forc e must move. 

178. Line 91 : He talks to me that never had a son.^ 
Compare in Macbeth (iv. a 216) the touching exclamation 
of Macduff : 

He has no children. 

179. Line 98: Orief fills the room up (\fmy absent child. 
-Malone quotes a line from Lucan where exactly the 
same idea occurs (Var. Ed. vol. v. p. 302): 

Perfruitur lachryinis, ct amat/ro canjuj^e tuctum. 

— Pharsalia. lib. iz. 

He also quotes from Maynard, a French poet, a passage 
which resembles this even more closely: 

Mon deuil me platt, et me doit toujours plaire, 
// tne tUHt littt dt celle qutjt plains. 

180. Lines 107-111.— Johnson points out that the young 

prince naturally feels the shame of their defeat more 

strongly than his father. This short speech bears some 

resemblance to the more beautiful one in Aracl>eth, v. 6. 

24-28 : 

Life 's but a walking shadow. 

it is a tale 
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 
Signifying nothing. 

Possibly, as Malone suggests. Shakespeare had in his 
mind Psalm xc. verse 0: "For all our days are passed 
away in thy wrath : we spend our years at a tale that is 

181. Lines 110, 111 : 

And bitter shame hath spoiVd the. sxceH WORLD'S taste. 
That it yields nought but SHAME and bitterness. 

Ff. have words: the emendation is Pope's. For the second 
shame in line 111 Walker proposed to read gall, on the 
ground that "somethiug is wanting that shall class with 
bitterness." Fleay thought the reading of Ff., in the first 
case, might be the correct one, the sweet word being "the 
tedious tale of life." But it might mean simply l\fe, which 
is a sweet UHxrd to many people. Delius would read: 
''that sweet word's taste," which, certainly, is an improve- 
ment, as the repetition of world, after its occurrence in 
line 108, is rather weak; and so is the repetition of sham*, 
as the passage stands at present 

188. Line 140: This act, so eviUy 6om.— Shakespeare 
only uses evilly in one other passage, in Timon of Athens, 
iv. 3. 467: "good deeds evilly bestow'd." 

183. Line 154: A'o«cop«o/nafur€. — Pope changed seo|>« 
to scape, a change utterly unnecessary and destructive of 
all sense in the passsge. Saipe would mean "a trans- 
gression." something out of the common course, and 
against the normal laws of nature; while the very force 
of Pandulph's speech lies in the fact that he is urging 
Uiat no common and ordinary operation of nature will 
take place without the people calling it a prodigy. Mark, 
for instance, in line 158, "No natural exhalation," Ac, 
and below, line 155: 

No eeintnoH wind, no eustomtd event 

It is difficult to see how any editor could read the passage, 
and yet print seape in the text Soope is exactly the word 
required, signifying "the sphere in which the proper 
action of any force lies," and so, any " \%wual operation or 
effect" produced by nature. 

225 68 

ACT III. ^^oene 4. 



IM. Line 155 : fxo CU&TOMEii event. —Shakespeare uses 
euMtomed in theiense of "customary/* "common" (note 
that it is not 'euttomed abbreviated from aeetutomed) only 
in one other passage in II. Henry VI. y. 1. 188: 

To wring the widow from her custom' J right. 

186. Line 109: Aiir/y.— Used only thrice by Shakespeare: 
here; in Taming of the Shrew, iv. 1. 206; and in II. Henry 
IV. liL 1. 25: 

That, with the huriy, death itself awakes. 

186. Line 182: Strong retuotu tnake 8TR0MQ action*: let 

u» go,—F. 1 has ttrange, altered in F. 2 to itrong, the 

reading generally adopted. The older reading may be the 

right one; but, as Steevens points out: " The repetition. 

in the second folio, is perfectly in our author's manner, 

and is countenanced by the following passage in Henry V. 

ii. 4 48, 49 : 

Thinic we King Harry strong: 

And princes, look yuu strongly arm to meet him." 

— Var. Ed. vol. xv p. 306. 


187. Tliiit Hcene is laid, conjecturnlly, by most editors 
at Northampton. All that is certain is tiiat it is some^ 
where in England; Ixtth the author of llie lYoublesome 
Raigiie and Shake8i>eAre, having taken this liberty with 
history, to transfer the scene of Arthur's imprisonment- - 
which really took place at Falaise nud afterwards at 
Rouen, where he died or was killed tu Kiiglaiid. Mr. 
Halliwell-Phillipps places this scene at Dover, and Grant 
White at Canterbury. There seems to be no particular 
reason why Northampton should be fixed upon, except 
that we learn from Holinshed (voL ii. p. 273) that the 
estates of the realm assembled at Northampton to swear 
allegiance to John on his accession to the crown, and 
that John api>ears afterwards to have held his court 
sometimes nt Nortliami>ton. That Shakespeare intended 
Hubert to take Arthur to England we learn from iii. S. 
71 above. The only possible authority for such a trans- 
ference of scene --and that is merely a negative one— is 
that Fabyan says nothing about Arthur's dying, or of his 
being imprisoned in France. What he says, under the 
Third Year of John's reign, is that John "toke hym 
(Arthur) pr>-8oner;" and further that John "returned 
with his prisoners into England" (pp. 312, 313). 

188. Line 7: I'NXANLY gerujtles. — Ft. read undeanly. 
1 1 is a curious fact that no one but Dr. Grey seems to have 
suggested the very obvious emendation given in our text, 
an emendation which I had marked in the margin of my 
copy before seeing Dr. Grey's conjecture. Unmanly and 
undeanly would l»e written so much alike that it would 
be difficult for any transcriber to distinguish them; the 
former word seems appropriate, the latter quite the con- 
trary. There was nothing uncleanly in the scruples of 
the executioners; but Hubert might well call them un- 
manly, lu all the other passages in which the word un- 
cleanly is used by Shakespeare it is connected with some- 
thing foul or impure. In As You Like It, iii. 2 51: " that 
courtesy wcmld be uncleanly, if courtiers were ahepherds; " 
and in Othello, iii. 3. 138, 139: 


wlio haft a l<reast M> pare. 
But some uHcltatt(y apprehensioiis, &c.. 

the word, though not OMd In its llterml senae, ia, obvi- 
ously from the context, associated, in the first case, with 
physical dirt, and in the second with morml impurity; so 
that to give the word here limply the lenae of **iuilw- 
coming" seems to me an arbitrary aaaumptioD not Justi- 
fied by any instance of a similmr uae of the word. 

188. Lines 14-16: 

Yet, I remember, tphen 1 was in France. 

young gentlemen toonld be €U SAI> €U night. 

Only for wanUmnes*. 
This affectation of aadneu certainly existed in Kngland; 
for more than one writer of Shakespeare's time alludes to 
it; but it is doubtful if it was in any wAy adopted frtmi 
the French: rather it seems to have been a native product. 
Lilly alludes to it in his Midas. 1502: **mekLnckoly is the 
crest of courtiers, and now every base companion, ^. 
says he is melancholy" Steevens quotes The Life and 
Death of the liord Cromwell (1613): 

Is it not most gentleman -like to l>e tnttaurhdyt 

— Var. Ed. vol xt. p. yt. 

Dyce in A Few Notes on Shakespeare, 1853 (pp. 80. 90). 
gives a long extract from one of Nash's Tracta, in which, 
speaking of "the follies which 'idle travellera' brought 
home from France." he mentions " to weare a velvet patch 
on their face, and tcalke melancholy vith their arma 
folded " (The Unfortunate Traveller, or, The Life of Jacke 
Wilton. 1504, Big L. 4). But that Lilly's reference to thii 
affectation is of an earlier date than the date when Hsn 
let was probably first produced, one might imagine tliat 
the great popularity of that play set up, or. at any rate, 
encouraged this fashionable affectation of melanekd^. 
Hut it might be this affectation had no deejter scat thao 
the liver. The same affectation of melancholy maj be 
observed among the upper classes in Southern Italy, eithtf 
to distinguish them from their humbler compatriots, or, 
more probably, l>ecause of their bilious teniperament& 
The gross over-feeding, which was the fashion in Shsk^ 
speare's time— as we know from the menus which have 
been preserved in some cases- must have induced liver 
complaints and, consequently, melancholy. 

190. Line 16c By my Christendom.— In All 's Well, i I 
187-180, chrittendotn is used in the sense of "Chrbtiaii 

with a world 
Of pretty, fond, adoptiouk cMristetid*ms, 
That blinking Cupid gossi|>s. 

Here it is generally held to mean "Christianity. " It it 
also used = baptism. Halliwell quotes Taylor, the Water 

Poet, Works, 1630: 

A halfe piece, or a croune, or such a summe. 
Hath forc'd tliem faUiAe their C hristtndomt 

Tiiere it evidently means 'Thristianity." or "CbristiaB 
fHith." perhaps with the original senae of "baptiaaal 

191. Line 83: Head here, young Arthur— In the ^ 
play the corref^ponding passage runs as follows, the war- 
rant being given in full : 

Peruse this I .etter, lines of treble woe, 

Keade ore my charj^e. and pardon when you lUKtw 



ACT IV. 8o«ne 1. 

are to commaund thee, as thou tendrest 
n miade, and the estate of our person, that 
pon the receipt of our commaund, thou put 
I of Arthur Plan taginet" (Troublesome Kaigne. 
Iiere would seem to be some inconsistency be- 

aeene and iiL S. 05-67, where John clearly 
rt that he wishes Arthur killed, and Hubert 
carry out that wish. Holinshed gives the fol- 
oant of the incidents on which this beautiful 
•kespeare's is founded: " it was reported, that 

through persuasion of his councellors, ap- 
rteine persons to go vnto Falais, where Arthur 
I prison, vnder the charge of Hubert de Burgh, 
(O put out the yoong gentlemans eies. " 
rough such resistance as he made against one 
nentors that came to execute the kings com- 
t (for the other rather forsooke their prince 
ie, than they would consent to obeie the kings 
heerein) and such lamentable words as he 
ibert de Burgh did preserue him from that in- 
lonbting but rather to liaue thanks than dis- 

the kings hands, for deliuering him of such in- 
>ald haue redounded vnto his higlinesse, if the 
leman had b^ene so cruellie dealt withall. For 
red, that king John had resolued vpon this 
• in his heat and f urie (which nioueth men to 
mmnie an incouuenient enterprise, vnbeseem- 
lon of a common man, much more reprochfull 
>» all men in that mood lieing meere foolish 
8, and prone to accomplish the peruerse con- 
Hr ill possessed heart ; . . .) and that after- 
>n better aduisement. he would both repent 
> to haue commanded, and giue them small 
t should see it put in execution Howbeit to 
mind for the time, and to state the rage of the 
le caused it to l)ruted nltroad through the 
Mt the kings commandenient was f ulflUed, and 
r also through sorrow and greefe was departed 
life " (Vi»l. ii. p. 2S0). Holinshed does not give 
ty for tills statement. According to other ac- 
ts visited Arthur in prison at Falaise: "ex- 
to desist from his pretensions, and represented 
f trusting to the friendship of the king of 
i natural enemy of his family. To this admoni- 
;:h-8pirited >outh answered, that he would re- 
tim only with his breath: and that the crown 
, together with the French provinces, belonged 
in right of his father. John retired pensive 
tented; Arthur was transferred to the castle of 
I confined in a dungeon in the new tower" 
ol. ii. p 303). 

4©; Or •• What good LOVE may I perform /or 
' a similar instance of the use of the word love 
e=act of love, compare Pericles, ii. 4. 40: 

But if 1 Laniiot win you to this /i»ir. 

ther passage in which any similar u^e of the 
I is in Ant and Cleo., i. 2. 186: "And get her 
i," where nearly all the modern editors read 

SI: though HEAT red-hot.— Thii old form of the 

past participle of " to heat" is to be found in Chapman's 
Homer's Iliad, book xx. lines 25, 26: 

but when blows, sent from his fi'ry hand, 
(Thrice Meat by slaughter of his friend). 

And again in the Odyssey, book zix. lines 534, 5S5: 

And therein bath'd, being temperately Aent, 
Her sov'reign's feet. 

This is the only instance of its occurrence in Shakespeare. 

IM. Line 63. —^nd qtieneh His Jlery ittdigiiation. —¥f. 
read thii; the emendation is Capell's, and seems prefer- 
a1>le to their or its, both of which were adopted by Rowe 
ut different times. 

195. Line 64: Even in the water o/minf innocence.- -We 
have followed Dyce in altering the matter of Ff. to icater; 
his note on the passage is as follows: " llie correction in 
tlie second line I owe to the late Mr. W. W. Williams: 
see The Parthenon for August IGth, 1862. p. 600. Com- 
pare, in scene iii. of the present act, lines 107-110: 

Trust not those cunninjj wattys of his eyrs. 
For villany is not without such rheum ; 
.\nd he, loni; traded in it. makes it seem 
Like rivers of remorse and itntoctucy. 

Compare too in Wilkins's novel. Pericles Prince of Tyre, 
1608; 'While her eyes were the glasses that carried the 
vsater of her minhap,' p. 66, Repiint." It is remarkable 
that the same alteration is made in the Long M8.i quoted 
by the Camb. Edd. Tlie word rtt»t in the next line seems 
to confirm the probability that icater is the true reading 

196. Lines 63-70: 

An \fan angel ithould have come to me. 
And told me Hubert uhoxdd put out mine eyen, 
I would not have believ'd him ; — no tongue but II n- 
In F. 1 the last line stands: 

I would not have believ'd him : no tongue hut Hubert's : 
Pope printed: 

I would not have believ'd a tongue but Hubert's. 

and Steevens suggested omitting the and, taking tlie i>iis- 
sage as an instance of the double negative: 

I would not have believ'd no tongue but Hutwrt's: 

but previously he had suggested that the line was broken 
off. the last sentence being unfinished ; this suggestion 
we have adopted. There seems no reason to alter the 
text; the extra syllable in this case strengtliens the dra- 
matic force of the line, the word him being necessary to 
emphasize the fact that Arthur would not have believed 
even an angel; he might have meant to exclaim: " Xo 
tongue but Huljert's could convince me that Hubert was 
capable of sucli cruelty." 

197. Line 76: iro noiST'ROVS rough. We do not use 
boisterous now, except as applied to sti'ong winds, or noisy 

1 *' The • Long MS. ' to which we have referred, is a copy of the 
Second Folio in the Library of Pembroke College, Cambridge, 
which was formerly in the possession of Dr. Roijer Long. Master of 
the College from 1733 to 1770. It contains marginal emend.itions, 
some from Theobald and Warburton, marked 'T.' and ' W.' respec- 
tively; some to which the initial ' L.' is affixed, and some without any 
initial letter at all" (Cambridge r*dn. vol iii. Preface, p. riii.). 


ACT IV. Scene 1. 


ACT IV. fcene 

L Lines 28. 20: 
When workmen ttrioe to do better than weU, 
They do cot\found their skill in covetowmess. 

Comimre sonnet ciii. lines 0, 10: 

Were it not sinful then, striving to mend. 
To mar the subject that before wa\ well? 

Also King Lear. i. 4. SCtO: 

Striving to better, oft we mar what 's well. 

203. Lines 38. 30: 

Since all and every part of what ire taniU 
Doth make a stand at what your highnena will. 

The meaning of these two lines is "since all onr desires, 
every wish of ours, stops short at whatever may be your 

KH. Lines 42. 43: 
And more, more strong THAN leu^eo is my /ear— 
I shiM indue you with. 


nuisances, such a« schoolboys. In Shakeqieare's time, 
however, the word was employed in a more general sense = 
intractable, rudely violent Compare line 05 below in this 

198. Lines 106-108: 

the fire is dead with grief. 
Being create for comfort, to be us'd 
In undeserv'd extremes. 

Johnson's explanation of this passage is the simplest: 
" the Are, being created not to hurt, but to comfort, is 
dead with grief for finding itself used in acts of cruelty, 
which, being innocent, 1 have not deserved " (Var. Ed. 
voL XV. p. 313X 

199. Lines 116, 117: 
And like a dog that is eompelVd to fight, 
Snatch at his master that doth TARRE him on. 

Shakespeare uses the word tarre in two other jMUsages; 
in Troilus and Cr^sida, i. 3. 301. 302: 

pride alone 
Must fartf the mastiflfs on, as 'twere their bone. 

And in Hamlet, ii. 2. 371, 372: ** and the nation holds it 
no sin to tarre tliem to controversy." The derivation of 
the word is uncertain. 

900. Line 122: / will not touch thine EYE.— So Ff. 
Steevens prints eyes, a conjecture of Capell's. But per- 
haps the singular number was used puri>oseIy here to 
avoid the somewhat awkward Juxtaposition with oices at 
the end of the next line; eyes and oices might be sugges- , 
live of a play on wurds not intended here. 

ACT IV. Scene 2. 

201. Line 1: Here once again ice sit, once again crown d. 
— F. 1, F. 2 have "once against crown'd," an obvious mis- 
take, corrected in F. 3. John was actually crowned four 
times; first with his Queen Isabella at Westminster on 
Ascension-day, May 27, 1100; secondly at Canterbury, 
again with Isabella, at the festival of Easter in 1201; a 
third time, alone, in April, 1202; and after the murder of 
Arthur, also at Ciinterbury. 

In F. 1, line 42 stands thus: 

And more, more strong, tMeu Usur is my feare. 

In F.2, F. 3. F. 4 (substantially) 'Hhen U$s U my fear." 
Various emendations have been propounded and adopted: 
e.g. " the less that is my fear" (Rowe); "the lesser is mj 
fear" (Pope); *' when lesser is my fear" (Steevens); "tkva 
lessening my fear" (Collier MS.). The one we have ven- 
tured to print seems the most probable one. the meaning 
being "reasons more strong than less (strong)- so I fear- 
than those I have given you already." But the reading 
of F. 1 may be correct and it may mean: "And utort 
reasons more strong than those I have already given yoo 
I shall give you at some future time— then my fear will 
be less that you will continue to disapprove of my beinf: 
crowned. " I cannot make any other possible sense of Uie 
passage as it stands in the Folio. The emendation adopted 
does little violence to the text, then might easily be mis- 
written or misprinted for than; and lesser for less to. 
John's desire seems to be to impress on the lords that be 
had very important and serious reasons, which he could 
not Just Uien reveal, for the step he had taken. 

i. Line 60: for the ichieh myself and THEM.— Xn 
doubt this is very bad grammar, and would ensure the 
writer a bad mark in any school-board examinstioB; 
but we have scrupled to follow Pope in altering them to 
they, a change very obvious and easy enough to make, 
but one which destroys the characteristic careleasnen o( 
Shakespeare in such 8Ui)erflcial minutiie. The occamnce 
of myself and them in the previous line probably led to 
the mistake, if mistake it was. 

906. Lines 55-57: 

// toAaC in rest you have in right you koU, 
Why, then, your fears— which, as they say, attend 
The steps of wrong— should move you dc. 

Most editors appear to think this passage wants amnH- 
ing, and therefore they transpose then and Aofdi 
Steevens conjectured : "If what in terest you have." Bat 
the meaning of the text is sorely clear enough and needs no 
altering. This, according to the speaker, is the arBuneiit 
of the discontentetl: "If what you have peaceful poMO* 
sion of you rightfully hold, why then should your feait- 
fears which (as they, who argue thu^ point oat) attcad 
the steps of him who is doing wrong—induce you to im- 
prison your nephew? ' Does not the trantpodtfon of tke» 
and should weaken the sentence rather than make it soy 

907. Line 60: Ths rich addantage qf good KXUCBI.' 
Percy pointed out, with good reason, that physical citf- 
cises formed by far the most important part of a y<^vtn 
prince's education in those days; and, therefore, hnpri*- 
onment was a greater injury than it wodild be \n 6vf* 
when more attention is given to mental Improvcmeiii 

Lines 61, 62: 
That the time's enemies tnay not have this 
To grace occasions, 

i.e. "that those who at present are yonr enemies WV 
not have this imprisonment of Arthur to grace 'nattcn 
which they may urge against yon. ' ** So Schasldt cipWi' 

ACT IV. Boom 2. 


ACT IV. ijcene *2. 

occtuiona; but perhmpt it may meftn simply "the oppor- 
tuniUet they Mixe to attack your goremmeDt" 

Lioe 77: Between hiepurpote and his etmseience.— 
Johnson explains this sentence: "Between his conscious- 
ness of gaflt and his design to conceal it by fair profes- 
Hious ' (Var. Kd. toL zt. p. S19>. But does it mean any thin}; 
more than the struggle between John's purpose to kill 
Arthur and his emxadentei 

tlO. Llnea TfMtl.— The aiinila here is taken from a boil 
or gathering, not a i^easant or poetical one. In Troilus 
and Cresalda, ii 1. fr-7, 8hake^>eare borrows an image 
from the same disagreeable tource: " And those haUe did 
run? saj so: did not the general ranUien? were not that 
tkhUeky corei" 

ni. Line 85: He tells us Arthur is deceas'd to-night— 
It is evident from this line tiiat Arthur, according to this 
play, was imprisoned in England. 

2ia. Line 89.— This line Is addressed not to the king, but 
to Salisbury and the other lords. 

813. Line OS: It is APPARKNT foul play.— Tat a similar 
u;»e of aj9parenf= evident, compare Two Gent of Verona, 

iiL L 115. 116: 

one cannot cHmlt it 

Without affartnt hazard of hU life. 

214. Line 96: So thrive it in your game! i.e, "So (shame- 
fully) thrire it (greatness) in the game yon are playingi " 

216 Line 110: From France to England.— In answer to 
tlie king's question: "How goss all in France?" The mes- 
senger answers, with a quibble on the word goes, that 
" All goes /rom France to England." 

216. Lines 116, 117: 

O. where hath our intelligenee been drunk f 
Where hath it slept! 

Compare Macbeth, L 7. 35, 36: 

Was the hope dmiik 
Wherehi you dress'd yourself? hath it sirft Jnce? 

217. Line 117: Where is my mother's OKJUt^—lnY.lVtie 
word ia printed indistinctly and might be care or ears; 
but F. 8, F. 3» F. 4 all read eare^ which seems to roe Uie 
pnrfermble reading. To say, as Dyce does, that " the con- 
text pUinlf requirea" ear is surely exaggerated. In lines 
119, 120 below, the messenger certainly answers : 

My Hef e, her tmr 
1% atopp'd with dust ; 

but this is the natural answer to John's last words: "And 
she not hear of it?" Supposing the last words had been: 
" And she not teU of it?" or "And she not urite of it?" 
should we have said that " the context plainly required" 
in the lint ease " my mother's tangus*' and in the second, 
"my mother's hand I" 

2U. Line 128: How WILDLY, then, walks my estate in 
France!— The verb to walk is used in a great variety of 
senses by the writers of Shakespeare's time. Malone 
quotes Fenner's Compter's Commonwealth, 1618: "The 
keeper, admiring he could not hear his prisoner's tongue 
iraUr aU this while " (Var. Sd. vol. xv. p. 322). And for 
wildly in the sense of ill Steerens quotes the Paston Let- 

ters, vol. iii. p. 09: " The country of Norfolk and Suffolk 
stand right wildly" (Var. £d. vol. xv. p. 822)l But for 
this instance of a similar use of the word we might be 
tempted to think wildly a mistake for vildly, i.e. vilely. 

219. Line 131: Enter the Bastard and Peter qf Pom- 
fret.- -In the old play the prophet is introduced first, in a 
short scene, as coming on tcith people, when he is ques- 
tioned by PhiUp, to whom he thus describes himself : 

" I am of the world and in the world, but Ihie not ai others, by the 
world: what I am I know, and what thou wilt be I know. If thmi 
knowest me now. be answered : if not. enquire no more what I am " 
{Troublesome Kaigne, p. a66). 

Lines 187-139: 

for J was amafd 

Under the tide: but now I breathe again 

Aloft the flood. 

I'he image here is taken from a man struggling for his 
life against a powerful current, and no doubt Mas sup:- 
gested by lines 108, 109. By the tide John means the tide 
of bad news that had just overwhelmed him. 

22L Lines 151. 152: 

That, ere the next Ascetuf ion-day at iwon. 
Your highness should deliver up your crown. 

Sliakespeare makes Peter more accurate in his prophecy 
than does tlie author of the old play. What the prophet 
says to the king in The Troublesome Raigne is: 

By my prescience, ere Ascension day 
Haue broui;ht the Sunne vnto his v^iuall bei|;ht. 
Of Crowne, Estate, and Koyall <lii;nitie, 
Thou shalt be deane dispoyUi and dispo&sest. 

—Troublesome Ralpne, p. 977. 

X. Line 165 : Of A rthur, WHOM they say is kiU'd to- 
night.— Tope altered whom to who, quite unnecessarily, as 
there are many similar instances in Shakespeare of such 
an offence against the strict rules of grammar. Take for 
instance The Tempest, ill. 3. 92: 

Young Ferdinand, "whom they suppose is drown'd. 

Line 171: 0, let me have no SUBJECTS enemies. — So 
F. 2, F. 8, F. 4; but F. 1 has subject. Surely, in this case, 
the correction of F. 2 is worth adopting. ** Subject ene- 
mies" seems to me to be nonsense. 

L Lines 182-184: 
My lord, they say five moons were seen to-night; 
Four fixed, and the fifth did whirl about 
The other four in wondrous motion. 

Holinshed mentions this phenomenon under date 1201: 
" About the moneth of December, there were seene in the 
prouince of Yorke flue moones, one in the east, the second 
in the west, the third in the north, the fourth in the south, 
and the flft as it were set in the middest of the other, 
hauing manie stars about it, and went flue or six times in- 
compassing the other, as it were the space of one houre, 
and shortlie after vanished awaie " (vol. ii. p. 282). In the 
old play the Bastard sees the Ave moons and describes 
them to the king (Troublesome Rait^ne, p. 275). The 
phenomenon is thus explained to the king by tlie I^ophet 

The Skies wherein these Moones have residence, 

Presenteth Rome the fcr^^t Metropnli<i. 


ICT IV. Boene 2. 


ACT IV. Skene 1 

Where sits tlie Pope in all his holy pompe. 

Fowre of the Moones present fowre Provinces. 

To wit, Spaine, Deninarke, Cemvinie, and France, 

That beare the yoke of proud cotumaundtng'Rouie. 

And stand in feare to tempt the Prelates curse. 

Tlie smallest Moone that whirles about the rest. 

Impatient of the place he holds with them, 

I>uth figure foorth this Island Albion, 

Who Kins to scome the See and State of Rome. 

And seekes to shun the Edicts of the Pope : 

This showes the heauen, and this I doo auerre 

Is fttfured in the apparitions. 

—Troublesome Raigne. p. 376. 

y Lines 185-202.— This powerful description, so riyid 
in all its details^ reads lilce the result of personal obser- 
vation. Could Shakespeare have observed such signs of 
popular excitement after the execution of Mary Queen of 
Scots? In the old play there is no parallel to this pas- 
sage, the hint for which may have been taken by Shake- 
speare from Holinshed: " For the space of flfteene dales 
this rumour incessantlie ran through both the realmes 
of England and France, and there was ringing for him 
through townes and villages, as it had beene for his 
funerals" (vol. ii. p. 286). 

Line 108: Uctd falsely thnutt upon eontrdry feet — 
The learning displayed by the various commentators on 
this passage may be briefly summed up in stating the fact 
that numerous passages, to be found in writers of Shake- 
speare's time, prove that different shoes were made for 
the right and left foot. In the Two Qent. of Verona, ii. 3. 
17, 18, Launce says: "This shoe is my father: no, this 
left shoe is my father." To put the left shoe on for the 
right, or vice vertd, was considered unlucky. Tailors gen- 
erally worked bare-footed, as Malone observes; a circum- 
stance which makes this description all the more life- 

887. Line 207: No HAD, my lord!— Some commentators 
have thought flt to alter this expression; but the idiom 
is not of uncommon occurrence. See Dyce's note (vol. iv. 
p. 92). Staunton gives an instance of the occurrence of 
tills very phrase No had in one of Sir Thomas More's 
letters: " From ignorance of this archaism most editors 
alter it to 'None had,' or 'Had none.' No Aod, no did, 
no will, &c., were ordinary forms of expression with the 
old English writers:— 'Nay, veryly sir,' quoth I, 'my Lord 
hath yit no word/ Ac. 'Xo had,' quoth he, 'I mych 
mervaile therof,* &c. — Letter of Sir Thomtu More to 
WoUey. (Ellis's 'Original Letters,' &c. vol. L p. 253.)" 

Lines 208-214. -This speech might well have l)een 
meant by Shakespeare as an apology for Queen Eliza- 
l>eth's cruel execution of Mary Queen of Scots, for which 
she would fain have held her servant Davison responsible. 
The excuse is quite worthy of the crime. There is no 
parallel to this powerful scene lietween John and Hubert 
in the old play. It was doubtless su^^ested by the pas- 
sage in Holinshed quoted above (note 191X 

Lines 219, 220: 
IIoic oft the Bight of mean* to do ill deedn 
Make ill deed* done! Iladxt not thou been by. 

Ft. read: "make deedt ill done." Tlie transposition was 
first suggested by Capell. and is absolutely necessary, not 


only to the sense, but also to the force of the passsge. 
which is weakened if the words tU deedM §n not repeated 
in the same order as that in which they oocnired before. 
We may compare with this passage the foUowing in 
Beaumont and Fletcher's A King and no King, ill 3: 
jlrt. If there were no such instruments as thou. 
We kings could never act such wicked deeds ! 

—Works, vd. L p. ti& 

The whole scene between Ari)aces and Bmmu may Iw 
read and compared with this, certainly not to Shake- 
speare's disadvantage. Some editors alter make to meJret, 
but unnecessarily; the plural is suggested by meant in 
the previous line. The break, caused by the deficient s}l- 
lable in the middle of this line, is very dramatic, and i« 
not to be "corrected" by the weak device of printiDg 
hadest instead of ?tad»t The actor naturally supplies the 
hiatus by a half groan, half sigh. 

880. Lines 220-223: 

Hadit not thou been by, 
A fellow by the hand of nature imart'd. 
Quoted, and sign'd, to do a deed t^f uhante. 
This murder had not eome into my mwd. 

Surely a weaker excuse for crime never was offered, flveti 
by such an abject creature as John is represented by 
Shakespeare to have been. A wretch like this woold. 
doubtless, if he had committed a rape, excuse hfaosell 
to his victim in some such vile language as this : 

Hadst thou not been by. 
So fair a body for so sweet a sin. 
This crime had never come into my mind. 

Of course the excuse was utterly untrue, for John eri- 
dently conceived his plan of murdering Arthur 1)efure be 
saw Hubert. 

831. Lines 237. 288: 

But thou dufirt undentand me by my eigns. 
And dida in tigiiM Offain parley with »n, 

Mr. (Collier's MS. corrector altered tin to eign, a tot 
foolish and needless alteration which some commentstor> 
have approved. It Is difficult to imagine a weaker piece 
of tautology than such a line would furnish; and. in in) 
case, we should have to read tignM, as Lettsom obsemi 
to make any sense of it John is complaining that Hs- 
bert seemed immediately to comprehend his pnrpoi^ 
though only hinted at in iigns; and that he did not «*«• 
delay his consent, much less remonstrate with the pro- 
poser of the crime. That he parleyed with tin was in bet 
the essence of HubeH's offence. 

888. Line 246: Xay. in the body qf thi* JUthly kn^ 
[Laying his hand upon his breast— The stage directkm » 
from the Long MS. and is given in the foot-note of U* 
Cambridge edition, vol. iv. p. €0. 

833. Line 261: Young Arthur it alive.-ThtBt w«* 

Charles Keaii, with an eye to dramatic effect tnuttfen**' 
to the end of the speech, thus making the qnestloo <^ 
John in line 260 Doth Arthur livef an echo of the worH* 
immediately preceding. The alteration is certainly <"' 
fitted for the stage; but there is not the slightest grcMiBJ 
for adopting it in the text 

ACT IT. Some 3. 


ACT IV. Scene 3. 

Line t80.-At this point the Pint Part of The 
TnmUeaoBie Raigne eocU; the Second Part commencing 
with the death of Arthur. 


tSS. Line L —Shakmpenn followa the old play in maldng 
Arthor^a cteath the reault of an accident while attempting 
to Mcapa from hit prison. The speech in llie I'rouble- 
some Raisne is more elalxmite; it rons as foUows: 

En9try0mg Arthur »n the wmUi. 
Now kclp« good hap to funber mine entent, 
Crowe not my youth with any more extreames : 
I venter Ufie to gain my Hbertie, 
And if I die. worlds troubles bane an end. 
Feare gins disswade the strei^(th of my resoluc. 
My holde will faUe. and then alas I fall. 
And if I (an, no question death is next : 
Better desist, and line in prison stiU. 
Prison said I f nay, rather death than so : 
Comfort and courage come againe to me, 
lie rtxAtx sure: tb but a leape for life. 

He U«pes, mnd trusimg his ^h*s, a/ter he was/rom his 

trauMce, speakes thus: 
Hoe, wlio is ttighf some bodie take roe vp. 
Where Is my mother? let me cpeake with her. 
Who hurts me thus? speake hoe, where are you gone ? 
Ay me poore Arthur. I jun here alone. 
Why cald I mother, how did I forget t 
My fall, my fall, hath kilde my Mothers sonne. 
How will she wecpe at tidings of my death ? 
My death indeed. O God, my bones are burst. 
Sweet Jeso saue my soule, forgiue my rash attempt. 
Comfort my Mother, shield her from despaire. 
When she shall heare my tragick ouerthrowe. 
My heart controules the office of my tooni;e, 
, My vitall powers forsake my brused trunck, 

I dye I dye. heauen take my fleeting soule. 
And I.ady Mother all good hap to thee. 

\H* dUs. 
—Troublesome Raigne, pp. 363. 364. 

As Shakespeare had already killed Constance he was ob- 
liged to leave out that pathetic anxiety for his mother, 
expreaaed by the dying boy in the older playwright's 
woriL Ilrom what source he got the idea of disguising 
Arthur as a ship-boy is not known. 

LiiM 10.— The manner of Arthur^s death remains | 
shrouded in mystery. There is only one thing certain; 
namely, that shortly after his confinement in the Castle ; 
of Rouen, to use the words of two of the old chroniclers, 
he disapp^tfed (eeanuitX In a note Lingard gives the 1 
iptiMtima «rr6a of three of his authorities, of which I j 
give here a translation. Matthew Paria says: "He dis- 
appeared in a manner unknown to nearly all let us hope 
Dot as invidious report relates." Matthew of Westminster 
says: *' Quickly afterwards he disappeared. The king was 
held hi suspicion by all as if he had killed him with his 
own hand." The Annales de Margan are more positive: 
•' On the llfth day before Easter" (John) " killed " (Arthur) 
"with his own hand." Lingard adds: " Will. Brito says 
he took Arthur into a boat. sUbbed him twice with his 
own hands, and threw the dead body into the river about 
three milea from the castle" (vol. ii. p. 304, note IX 
There is little doubt that John was guilty of his murder 
directly or indirectly, otherwise he would not have re- 

fused to prove his innocence when summoned by Philip 
to do so before the French peers. 

187. Line 16: Whitm PRIVATB WITH ME qf the Dauphin't 
JoM.— This harsh elliptical expression is probably the 
correct text, the meaning being: "Whose pricate con- 
versation with me concerning the dauphin's love." For 
another peculiar use of private by Shakespeare, as a sub- 
stantive, see Twelfth Night, iii. 4. 100: " let me enjoy my 
private." Collier's MS. substituted mistiDe, and Speddiiig, 
much more plausibly, witneu; but the text is sufRciently 
intelligible without emendation. Schmidt explains the 
word here: "personal not official communication," and 
it seems tiiat private must refer to an oral, and not to a 
written coniniunication, in contradistinction to theee linee 
below, i.e. " tlie letter from the Cardinal " which Salisbury 
had in his hnnd. The Cardinal was Pandulph. 

Line 20: OR ere we meet.— Or here = before, as fre- 
quently in old writers. The ere is augmentative "before 
ever we meet" 

). Line 21: DISTEMPER'D 2onf«.— 0>mpare Hamlet, 
UL 2. 810-312 : 

Cuit. The king, kir, — 

Ham. Ay, sir, what of hiiii? 

Cuti. Is in his retirement marvellous distemfertd. 

940. Line 24: We toUl not line hie TUIN BESTAINEI) 
e^oolr.— Ff. have f/itn-&«<fai/t«(f, which Collier's MS. altered 
to the very obvious and somewhat commonplace epitliet 
iin-beetaiiied. Clarke says: "thin exactly agrees with tlie 
metaphor implied in the verb line." But line would 
equally apply to a cloak whether thin or thick. We do 
not accept the emendation of Collier's MS. which Singer 
adopted, simply in acconlance with our principle that 
where the text is iutelligilile it should not be altered. 
Dyce has a long note on this passage in which he gives 
instances of words wrongly hyphened in F. 1. 

Ml. Line 41: HAVE you heheldJ-Qo F. 3; but F. 1, F. 2 
read yoic have, by an obvious mistake transposing the 
words, which must here l>e put interrogatively. 

Line 49: wall-et'd trra/A.—Thisword is only used 
by Shakespeare in one other passage ; viz. in Titus An- 
dronicus, v. 1. 44: "say traU-ey'd slave." The word is of 
Scsndinavian origin, and probably from the same deriva- 
tion as trhally, a word used by Spenser (Fairy Queen, i. 

iv. 24): 

And H-haily eies (the ^gne of gelosy,) 

though in that passage it seems to mean "green-ey'd." 

Line 54: To the yet unbegotten tin qf TIMES —It 
is almost incredible that any commentator should have 
wanted to alter timeti to time, as Pope did, and support 
it by reference to the well-known line in Hamlet, iii. 1. 70: 

For who would bear the whips and scorns of fime t 

Surely nothing could be clearer than that qf timeg means 
here "0/ timet to come. ' The epithet unbegotten mani- 
festly indicates that meaning. 

Ml Lines 71, 72: 

Till I have ttet a GI.ORT to this HAND, 
Bjf giving it the toorthip t^ revenge. 
Farmer proposed to read head, taking glory to be the 


ACT IV. 8oeDe S. 




glory depicted round the heads of saints, a snggestion much 
approved of by Gray the poet Mason suggested that Salis- 
bury should "take hold of" the dead Artliur's hatid; but 
surely it is to his own hand he proposes to ut glory (i.e. 
honour, fame) by giving it the sacred task of avenging 
Arthur's death. Clarke, who takes a similar view of the 
meaning of the passage, adds, "that the romantic and 
poetic tone of this speech" is In keeping with Salisbury's 
ctiaracter throughout. 

Mi. Line 70: Yo%ir noord i$ bright, tir; put it 19 
a^in.— Compare Othello, L 2. 59: 

Keep up your bright swords, for tlie dew wiU rust them. 

In both cases the word bright is used with some con- 

M6. Line 87: Out, dunghiU!— So in King Lear this word 
is used as a term of abuse, where Oswald says to Edgar: 
Out, dunghiU! {iy. 6. 249): 

M7. Line 90: your TOASTINO-IRON. — A contemptuous 
term for a sword. So Nym says iu Henry V. ii, 1. 7-9: 
"I dare not flf^ht; but I will wink and hold out mine 
iron: it is a simple one; but what though? it will to€Ut 

848. Line 121: Thott 'rt DAMN'd as BLACK— nuy, nothing 
in $0 black.— Ho doubt, as Staunton suggested, Shake- 
speare was thinking here of the "black souls" which ai>- 
peared in the old mystery plays of Coventry. The per- 
sons who enacted the souls of the damned appear to have 
had their faces blackened, and to have been completely 
dressed in black. Rolfe gives an extract in a note on this 
passage from a bill (quoted by sharp) : 

Itiii fur makytiK and mendyn>;e of the biakke soules hose vjd 
p'd for blakyng the sollys fassys — 

— Rolfe'8 edn. of King John. p. 170. 

In the account given by Spence of a mystery called the 
Damiifd Smil, represented at Turin in 1739, the heroine 
(the Damned Stmt) "was drest as a fine lady In a gown 
of fUme-coloured satin" (Hone's Ancient l^Iysteries De- 
scribed, p. 183). 

Lines 127, 128: 

the tmallest thread 

That ever ipider twinted from her womb. 

This is a sufficiently accurate way of describing the source 
whence a spider evolves the marvellous fine threads that 
compose its web. They do not issue from the mouth, as 
in the case of silkworms, but from the hinder part of the 
abdomen, in which you may perceive four little leaf-like 
protul>erances or spinners. The thread, which is secreted 
in rcsenoirs in the form of a viscid gum, is drawn 
through these spinners. "Each spinner is furnished 
with a multitude of tubes, so niimenms and so exquisitely 
fine, that a space often not much bigger than the pointed 
end of a pin, is furnished, according to Reaumur, with a 
thousand of them. From each of these tubes, consisting 
of two pieces the last of which tenninates in a point in- 
finitely fine, proceeds a thread of inconceivable tenuity, 
wliich, immediately after issuing from it. unites with all 
the other threads into one. Hence from each spinner 
proceeds a compound Uiread ; and these four threads, at 
the distance of about one-tenth of an inch from the apex 


of the spinners, again units, and form the thrsad we arr 
accustomed to see. which the spider uses in focmiag it» 
web " (Rirby and Spence. vol. L pp. 406, 407). 

250. Line 133: Enough to STIFLE $ueh a viUaiu rp.— 

For an instance of the use of fo ttijie vp = U> smother, see 

The Misfortunes of Arthur (1587). L 3: 

Whether to drown or s/i4* uf this breath. 

— Dodsley. tqL it. p. 970. 

261. Lines 14S>145.— It is remarkable that, though to 
faithful and zealous a partisan of John's, the Bastard here 
clearly recognizes Arthur's right to the throne. 

862. Line 140: To tug and 8CAMBLB.— The meaning of 
the verb to seamble seems doubtful Most commsotator» 
makeit="to scramble." or "to struggle," which lattcr 
sense it may have in this passage; but it certainly seeiD> 
to have a transitive sense in some passages, e.g. in Ford'* 
The Fancies Chaste and Noble, L 3: 

The scamHin^ half a ducat now and then 
To roar and noise it with the tattlinf; ho^ess. 

— Works*. voL ii. p. 24«- 

In the Epistle Dedicatorie prefixed to Holinshed's Chrun- 
icles it is used in a totally different sense: '* It may be io 
like sort that your Honour will take offense at my rash 
and retchlesse behauiour vsed in the composition of tbu 
volume, and much more that being gcainbUd up after thi» 
manor, I dare presume to make tendour of the protec- 
tion therof ^-nto your Lordships hands" (voL i. p. viL). 
.Shakespeare uses the word in three otlier passages: in 
Henry V.i. 1. 4: '*iheKamblingAm\ unquiet tlmc^whert 
it seems = riotous; and in the same play, v. 2. 213, where 
it also conveys the notion more or less of violence; snd in 
Much Ado, V. 1. 94: 

Scamft/injsr, out-facings, fashion monging hoys. 

where it may mean anything. 

268. Line 1&5: dneture.—Yt. read centre; which m*}. 
after all, as Clarke suggests, be only an angliclMd eomp- 
tion of the French ceintare. 

861 Line 158: A thousand BUSINESSES.— ShakeqMW 
uses this very awkward and cacophonous plural in no )»* 
than five other passages: All's Well, i. 1. 220; liL 7. 6: K 
3. 08; Winter's Tale, iv. 2. 15; and Lear. iL 1. 120 (is fl> 

ACT V. ScKNK 1. 

865.— I1ie scene is again laid conjecturally at North- 
ampton. Charles Kean places the ceremonial of Pw- 
dulph restoring the crown to John in the " interior of tbe 
Temple Church at Northampton." 

866. liine 2: The CIRCLR of my glory. -Comput Antrtoy 
and Cleopatra, ill. 12 16-18, where Cleopatra suhmiti to 
the sovereignty of Caisar : 

Next. Cleopatra does confess thy (jreatneM: 
Submits lier to thy mljfht ; and of thee crares 
The firc/f of the Ptolemies for her hetn. 

867. Line 2: Takr af/ai*i.--Dyce reads: "Take •<«!»»"•** 
following Lottsom; wliile Heath very plausibly •Hgge**'^ 

iCT V. Heme 1. 


ACT V. Scene 1. 

he transposition of thi$ and from in line 3, reading the 
Miiuge thus: 

THIS ((>. Uie crown) FROM m^ hand. 

Bat it any change neoeMarr? The lubject of Take is : 
*yoar torereigD greatoeu," &c. ; the action of giving 
iiack the croirn being snfBcient to indicate the ipealcer't 

Lilies S. 4: 

mM holding (^ tk$ jmjm, 

Vcur mfvenrif/H gnatnem and authority. 

isluiketpeare look this Incident of John swearing fealty 

to the pope, in tlM person of Pandnlph, partly from the 

9ld play, and partly perhaps from Holinshed. In The 

rroabletome BaigBe the scene is a very meagre one. 

Holinshed's account is us follows: "shortlie after (in like 

manner as pope Innocent had commanded) he tooke the 

LTOwne from hii owne head, and deliuered the same to 

Pandnlph the legat, neither he, nor his heires nt anie 

time thereafter to receine the same, bat at the popes 

lianda." . . . "Then Pandnlph keeping the crowne 

irith him for the space of five dales in token of possession 

thereof, at length (as the iwpes vicar) gaue it him againe " 

vol. iL p. 306)l Aboat this transaction between John 

ind Pamlnlph there has been a great deal of inaccuracy 

ihown by chroniclers and historians. In note B (voL ii. 

;>p 624-e26) Lingard ^ves a clear and accnrate account 

it the whole matter, the principal points, in which ac- 

.'oant. are here subjoined. It appears from the authentic 

'ecords that John first on May 15, 1213, made an act of 

'ealty to Pope Innocent in the presence of Pandulph, 

flatting into the hands of the latter a signed charter: 

'By this he rendered himself and his heirs by his wife 

'eadatories of the Roman Cliurch for the kingdoms of 

England and Ireland by the yearly payment of 1000 

narks, but reserved at the same time to himself all the 

Ights and prerogatives of the crown" (Lingard, vol. ii. 

iota B, p. 025). On October Sd of the same year Nicholas. 

SIshop of Tusculum, having been sent by the pope, as 

egate, with fall powers, John gave to him an exactly 

limilar charter, renewed the oath of fealty, did homage 

which be had not done before), and paid the first year's 

vnt of 1000 marks for the kingdoms of England and 

rvland. The grant and acceptance (by the pope) of 

his charter are treated, according to Lingard, "not as 

I national, Imt as a personal transaction." John only 

linding himself and the heirs of his body begotten by 

Its wife, not all his successort. John was the only King 

if England that ever did homage to the pope; his son 

lenry Id was the only other king who ever swore 

ealty to the pope, which he did when at the age of ten 

'ean, and under the charge of the papal legate Qualo. 

The rent was sometimes paid, and sometimes evaded, till 

t was altaolutely refund in the reign of Edward III. (in 

308) by the Loril'* and Commons, with the approval of 

be Episcopate ; all being unanimous tliat John's act was 

lone wlthoat the consent of the realm and in violation 

»f his coronation oath. After this the claim was never 

evived by any of the popea 

SM. Lioc7: 

Tq ttop their marchet 'FORE v>e are IHFLAM'd. 

Mason proposed to read: 

To stop their inarches,/<>r we are iuflain'd; 

on the ground that " the nation was already as much in- 
flamed as it could be, and so the king himself declares" 
(Var. Ed. vol. xv. p. 340). But it\fiain'd id used here in its 
literal sense of "set on fire," "burned," a somewhat rare 
sense of the word, and only to be found, in Shakespeare, 
in this one passage (unless we accept the literal sense in 
Pericles, ii 2. 35). Chapman uses the verb, in this sense, . 
in at least tliree passages, e^. Iliad, bk. L lines 310-312: 

the angry Cod they grac'd 
With perfect hecatombs ; some bulls, some goats, alont; the shore 
Of the unfrottful sea. in^mm'd. 

Milton also uses inyCamf(f= burning: 

till on the beach 
Of that inflamtd sea he stood. 

— Par. Lost, bk. 1, lines 299. 300. 

In F. 1 the word is spelt enjlam'd; and at first I thought 
it ought to be printed so to distinguish it from injlain'd, 
in its figurative sense, as ordinarily used; but, on examin- 
ing the various passages in Shakespeare where inflame is 
used in its commoner sense, I found the spelling was in- 
differently inflame and enflame. 

860. Line 8: 0"r discontented counties do revolt. -- 
Counties may poMiibly be used here in the sense of lords 
(as Cowity Paris frequently in Romeo and Juliet), and 
not, in its usual ^ense, the divisions of the kingdom. 

961. Line 11. - In the Folio the two words are hyphened 
stranger-blood ; perhaps purposely, to show that stranger 
is the noun, used adjectively. In Kicliard III. i. 4. 48. in 
Clarence's speech, F. 1 has strange r-soule; but, in Richard 
II. i. 8. 143: "the stranger paths of banishment," there 
is no hjrphen after stranger. 

862. Lines 14, 15: 

/or the present time *s so sick. 

That present fnedieine must be minister' d. 
Compare 1>elow. scene 2. lines 20, 21: 

Dut such is the in/tctioM e/tlu /ime. 

That, for the healtli and/A/Jir of our ri^ht, &c. 

Line 19: But since you are a gentle convertite.— 
Hunter (voL ii. pp. 13, 14) says: "The word 'Convertite,' 
which occurs in this Play, is an ecclesiastical term, with 
a peculiar and express meaning, distinct from 'Convert.' 
It denotes a person who. having relapsed, has been re- 
covered, and this, it will be perceived, is the sense in 
which Shakespeare uses it." I can find no mention of 
such special meaning in Roman Catholic authors. Shake- 
speare uses the word in two other passages ; in As You 
Like It, V. 4. 100. it is used by Jaques of the companions 
of the banished Duke, where it seems to mean "persons 
who had retired from the world;" and in The Rai>e of 
Lucrece, 743: 

He thence dcjvarts a heavy convertite; 

where it seems to mean nothing more than "a peni- 
tent," "one struck with remorse." 

961 Line 81 : But Dover eastU. — It was at Ewell, a 
house of the Knights Templars near I>over. that John 
received Pandulph, and pnt into his hand the charter 
containing his submission t<i the pope. So that, follow* 


ACT V. tSceua I. 


ACT V. SoNM 1 

ing history, this scene should be at Ewell near Dover, not 
at Northampton. 

{. Line 59: For AGE, and run.— Some commentators 
have doubted whether Forage is the right reading; and 
Collier's MS. substituted Courage. It seems quite clear 
that to forage meant " to range abroad in search of prey ; " 
and forage is twice used by Shakespeare In connection 
with a lion; the verb in Henry V. i. 2. 106-110: 

Whiles his iuu«t mighty father on a hill 
Stood sinilin(( to behold his lion's whelp 
Forage in blood of French nobility. 

The noun in Love's Labour 's Lost, iv. 1. 90-OS : 

Thus dost thou hear the Neinean lion roar 
'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey. 

Submis^ve fail his princely feet before. 
And he ttota/oragt will incline to play. 

Compare Chapman's Revenge of Bussy D'Ambois, ii. 1 : 

And looke how Lyons close kept, fed by hand. 
Lose quite th' innatiue fire of spirit and ^reatnesse 
That Lyons free breathcyimi^f i>/f for prey. 

—Works, vol. ii. p. !»$. 

These instances are quite sufficient to prove that tlie text 
is right, th6 word having been suggested by the compari- 
son of John to a lion, Just above, in line 67. 

Line 61: A^yi grapple toith him ere he COME to 
nigh.— Ii is worth noting that the Cambridge £dd. and 
the Qlobe £dd. print " eomee so nigh," without a word of 
explanation. F. 1 decidedly has come; and the use of 
the subjunctive is evidently intentional. 

887. Line 67: Send fair -play ORDERS. — Dyce, Singer, 
and other commentators adopt the commonplace altera- 
tion of the Collier M.S. ofers. Orders here is, undoubt- 
edly, the right word; a few lines below, in the next scene, 
line 4, order is used = " arrangement," as we have explained 
It; or "agreement," "stipulation," as Wordsworth ex- 
plains it in his marginal notes, having deliberately printed 
of erg instead of orden, in this passage, without the faint- 
est indication that it was a conjectural gloss on the 
text; while the meaning he gives to ordere in the passage 
below is the very sense required here. Fair-play is used 
here more in the sense of "friendly treatment" than in 
its strict sense of "fair" or "just dealing." 

Line 70.— A COCKER'D tilken wanton.— ThlM word is 
not used by Shakespeare in any other passage. It means 
"pampered," or "petted," compare Heywood's King 
Edward IV. : 

That have been ki^t and coker'd by a kinif. 

—Works, vol. I. p. 151. 

Line 1\'. And FLESH hie tpirit in a warlike eoU.— 
Compare I. Henry IV. v. 4. 133, 134: 

Come, brother John ; full bravely hast xhou/tesh'd 
Thy maiden swurd. 

And again in I. Henry VI. iv. 7. 86 : 

DiAjltsk hiii puny bword in Frencliuien's blood. 

It is a similar expression to that used with regard to 
hounds, when we talk of blooding them at the beginning 
of the season, and let them taste the blood in order to 
make them keen. 


ACT V. Scene 2. 

WTO. Line 3: precedent —<k>mpare Richard IIL iiL <L 7: 
The prtctdtHt was full as IcHig a.doinf . 

Precedent literally means " anything that has gone be- 
fore;" so, in law, ii acquired the technical sense of i 
previous decision which served as a mle for similar esin 
in future. Shakespeare appears to be the only writer 
who uses the word in this peculiar sense of the "roogli 
draft," or "original copy" of any document ; the pssesfe 
quoted from Richard IIL, and that in the text, are tlw 
only two instances in which he so uses it In Its man 
usual sense the word occurs frequently in Shakespesn, 
e^. in the Trial Scene in the Merchant of Venice (iv. L 


T will be recorded for a frtadent. 

It it to be noted that» in all these passages, prtctdetU 
should be pronounced with the first e long, prieedent^voi, 
as it too often is in the careless modem fashion, as bsrdly 
distinguishable from pretidenL 

S71. Line 10: A voluntary zeal, an unurg'd faith.— Tii 
A voluntary seal, mnd an nnorg'd faith. 

a very inharmonious line. Pope omitted an ; Capell smf- 
We prefer to follow the latter, his correction of Ute 
metre making a better line in all respects. 

S7S. Lines 27, 28: 

Wherein we Hep after a ttranger, marcA 
Upon her gentle froeotit. 

So Ff. Theobald reads stranger march, making Hrvuff 
an adjective, or substantive used adjectively, as in v. L 11 
above. Dyce hyphened etranger-march, as Ff. hyphesed 
itranger-blood in the passage referred to above. Bat the 
reading of the Folio makes good sense, and seems tte 
more forcible of the two. For itep used in a similar mt» 
compare II. Henry IV. i. 3. 20 : 

My Judgment is. we bhould not sfr/ too far. 

S7S. Line SO : Vpon the SPOT qf this enforced cavm.-^ 

Ff. Grant White adopts thought, the very cfumnooplsee 

alteration of the Collier MS. Dyce and Walker hart v^l 

and other emendations have been proposed. Bit tte 

meaning of the phrase Upon the spot given in oar M- 

note is Justified by the use of spot for " stain" in v. 7. 10? 

1>elow; and by the use of vpon=" on account of" la Iv- 1 

214 above. For spotted = sUined see Mids. Night's Dm*. 

i. 1. 110, note 10; and compare The Three Lords and Tlatt 

Ladies of London (1600) : 

The spotttd ladies of that stately town. 

— DodUey. voL vi p- 4>>S- 

171 Line 36 : ^luf GRAPPLE thee u%\to a pagan «l«r».- 
Ff. read cripple; the emendation is Pope'a Steewsi 
suggested gripple. 

t75. Line 42 : DoTH make, Ac— Altered by many edWco 
to do; but the use of a singular verb with a plural now- 
native is common enough in Shakespeare, and in tkf 
writers of his time. 

876. Line 44 : Between COMPULSION and a friww nV*^ 
- Ixjwis refers to Salisbury's speech above (line S0)> »*<'• 

«M 2. 


ACT V. Soeue S. 

! the "muforeed canse." whkb made him take 
lalnst hii coontry. 

i 60: ThU ihower hUncn up by tempett of the 
ipftn Lacrece. lines 1788, 1789: 

nds windy temfest, till it blow up rain, 
Idd back his sorrow's tide, to make it more. 

I W: FviX of iMrm Mood.— Ff. have Full wann 
HMqposition is Heath's, and seems to be de- 
' tbe context 

• 64: .^luf tten there, methijiks, AN ANOKL 
hit ^;>pears to have been a proverbial expres- 
ipara Marston's Eastward Hoe, U. 1 : " Quick- 

. the bloud-hound Securitie will smel out 
mj for yon instantly. Sir Petronell. There 
•lyei " (Works, voL ill. p. 31). There gener- 

to be a play upon the word angel= the coin 
dm; and so there undoubtedly is here, in con- 
tti line 61 above. 

I 70: / am too high-bom to be propertied.— 
lar ose of this verb to property compare Timon 

i. L 66-57: 

his lar^e fortune 
lOa his food and gracious nature hanginf^ 
ttdues mud /rtj^rttet to his love and tendance. 

9 88: Acquainted me with INTEREST TO this 
I Henry IV. ili. 2. 08: 
He hath more worthy interest to the state. 

e 90: 7o UNDERPROP thie action.— Compare 
.ii. 2. 82: 

Here am I left to untUrpr«p his land. 

e 104: ae 1 have BANK'D their towns.— The 
iven to the word bank'd here (see footnote) 
ft forced one: but by analogy with such words 
It," "to flank," such a sense may very well be 
n this case; the more so as it corresponds with 
»tioD given by Lewis of his progress in the old 

And from the hollow holes of Thamesis, 
Eccho apace repUde, Vive la Roy. 

— Troublesome Raigne, p. 399. 

anations are given of the word; such as " to 
ntrenchments before;" while Schmidt suggests 
k here = French aborder, to land on the banks 
lonton in his note says: "but from the context 
ore probably an allusion to card-playing; and 
their towns' is meant tcon their tounu, put 
nk or rest" 

» 108: No, on my soid.-^Vt. have A'o, no, an 
y repetition which spoils the metre; corrected 

1 118: Be/ore I DREW this ycUlant HEAD 0/ war. 
iv. 2. 118 aiiove: 
"hat such an army could be t/ratvn in Franc e, 

d I. Henry IV. i. 3. 283. 284 : 
nd *t is no little reason bids us speed, 

save our heads by raisinj^ qfa he.*d. 

183: This UNHAIR'D saueiness. - -¥i. have 11 n- 

1 neoeasary and ingenious emen<latinn is Theo- 
alconbridge continually refers to the extreme 

youth of the Dauphin; e.g. y. L 69 above: "shall a beard- 
less hoy,'* &c. 

187. Line 188: tnolce you TAKE the HATCH.— The same 
sense is given to the verb to take, in hunting parlance, 
nowadays, when we talk of " taking a fence." Compare 
Troilus and Cresaida. v. 4. 20, 21 : 

Fly not; for shouldst thou take the river Styx, 
I would swim after. 

The hatch seems to have been a door divided into two 
parts across, the lower part of which, called the hatch. 
was kept shut See note 47 above: and compare Cometly 
of Errors, ill. 4. 83, and Lear, ill. 6. 76: "Dogs leap the 
hatch." It appears from The Three Ladies of London 
(1584) that there was a proverb: " T is good having aAafc/i 
before the door" (Dodsley. vol. vi. p. 348). One see^. 
sometimes, in the cottages of the poor, nowadays, a very 
similar arrangement in order to keep the children in- 
doors, while the upper part of the door is open to admit 
air and light. 

Lines 144, 145: 
Even at the crying 0/ your nation's crow, 
Thinking HIS voice an armed Englishtnan. 

The allusion is of course to a cock; the Latin name GaUun 
being the same as OaUus, a Gaul. Punch was anticipated 
by two or three centuries in representing a noisy, brag- 
ging Frenchman as a crowing cock. In line 146 Ff. have 
this, which Rowe changed to his; the change is demanded 
more by the ear than by the understanding; the alliter- 
ation Thinking this being very cacophonous, though it 
might make sense. 

Line 150: To SOUSE annoyance.— Halliwell (Diet, 
of Archaic Words) quotes from Florin (p. 48, edn. 1611) : 
" To leape or seaze greedily uiKin, to souze doune as n 
hauke." It is a term used in hawking to express the 
sudden plunge with which the hawk darts down on its 
prey. Pope uses the word in his Epil(»gue to Satires, 
Dialogue ii. : 

Come on then Satire ! {^en'ral, unconfin'd, 
Spreati thy broad wiii^, and sffiise on all the kind. 

(Lines 14. 15) 

890. Line 157: Their neelds to lances.— Y. 1, F. 2 have 
needl's; F. 8, F. 4 needles. For neelds, old form of needle*, 
compare Mida Night's Dream, lit 2. 204 : 

Have with our neelds created both one flower. 

891. Line 162: &ra&6{er.— Compare Twelfth Night, v. i. 


In private brabble did we apprehend him. 

Line 177: A bare-riWd death.— Compwe Lucrei-e, 
line 1761 : 

Shows me a bare-bfitt'd death by time outworn. 

ACT V. Scene 3. 

898. Line 8: SwinMtead. ^The real name of this place is 
Sirineshead; but Shakespeare copied the old play which 
calls it Suinsted. It is in Lincolnshire, about seven miles 
south-west of Boston, between that town and Donlngton. 
It was, in the time of John, a seaport, but is now (|uite 
an inland town. Rolfe. on the autliority of I'inibs, says 


ACT V. Scene 3. 


ACT V. Scene 4. 

in his note: "The abbey, about half a mile east of the 
town, was founded by Robert de Greslei In 1184. It was 
a large and magnificent structare, but nothing is non- 
left of it llie mansion known as Svnne$head Abbey 
stands ueiir the site, and was built with materials from 
the ancient abbey (Timbs). " Swinesliead is not mentioned 
in Smith's EngUnd, 1686. 

891 Lines 0-11: 

for the great tuppiy. 

That WAS expected by the Dauphin here, 

ARE wreck'd three nightt ago on Goodwin Sands. 

It must be confessed ttuA there is a good deal of confusion 
here as to grammar. In line 10 mpply is treated as a 
singular noun; while we hare It treated as a plural in the 
next one. Still we would not alter are to was, as Capell 
did Dyce suspects a line has dropped out between lines 
10 and 1 1 ; but it may l>e the Inconsistency was deliberate. 
In scene 5, lines 12, IS, below, we have mpply again 
treated as a plural noun : 

And your snf>f>ly, which you have wish'd so long. 
Are cast away and sunk on («oodwin Sands. 

Dr. Charles Annandale justly remarks that ftipply is, in 
the flr:it passage, spoken of as a whole collectively. It 
was the Individual ships that were trreeked and eaMt 
army, not all at tlie same time, so that the plural verb is 
really more appropriate, both in line 11 and in line 13. 
In the latter passage it is probable also that the speaker 
had in his mind the fact of tlie numbers of persons who 
were ea»t avoay with the supply, and therefore used the 
plural verb. Goodwin Sands, commonly called "The 
Goodwins," are still the dread of all sailors on our south- 
eastern coast. They lie off the cost coast of Kent be- 
tween the North and South Forelands. Tradition says 
that they were once an island, the property of Earl God- 
win, which was swallowed up by the sea about A.D. 1180. 

ACT V. Scene 4. 

296. Line 7: Enter MSLUN, wounded.— Thl% incident is 
mentioned in Ilolinshed under the year 1216: "About 
the same time, or rather in the yeare last past as some 
hold, it fortuned that the vieount qf Melune, a French 
man, fell sicke at London, and perceiuing that death was 
at hand, he called vnto him certeine of the English 
barons, which remained in the citie. vpon safegard 
thereof, and to them made this protestation: ' I lament 
(saith he) your destruction and desolation at hand, bicause 
ye are ignorant of the perils hanging oner your heads. 
For this vnderstand, that I^wes, and with him 16 earles 
and barons of Frani^, hane aecretlie swome (if it shall 
fortune him to con<iuere this realmo of England, A to 
be crowned king) that he will kill, banish, and confine 
all those of the English nobilitie (which now doo senie 
vndcr him, and persecute their owne king) as traitours 
and rei>els, and furthermore will dispossesse all their 
linage of snch inheritances as they now hold in England. 
And bicause (saith he) you shall not haue doubt hereof, 
I which lie here at the point of death, doo now affirme 
vnto you, and take it on the perill of my sonle, that I am 
one of those sixteen that haue swome to performe this 
thing: wherefore I adnise you to prouide for your owne 


sifeties, and your realmes which you now destroSe. and 
keepe this thing secret which I hane rttered vnto yoo.' 
After this speech was vttered he streigbtwaies died* 
(vol. iL p. 334). 

296. Line 10: you are BOUGHT AKD S0LI>.~A proverbial 
expression. See Comedy of Errors, iii. 1. 72. note 67. 

287. Line 11: UNTHREAD the rude BTE qf rOeiUoiL- 
Several alterations of the text here hare been proposed; 
the most probable being Theobald's, " Untread the rade 
way." But we prefer to leave the reading of the Folio 
unaltered. The simile is taken from the dilBcnltyof 
threading a needle, and the easiness of mntknmding It 
Compare Lear, it 1. 119, 120: 

Ctrm. You know not why we came to visit yoo,— 
Jtef. Thus out of season, tkrtading dark-tj^d nigkti 

where the expression plainly refers to the diflteulty of 
finding one's way In adark night Schmidt, who Is stna^ 
in favour of adhering to the reading of the Folioik g^*^ 
a German sentence : " ent/iidelt die roh einge/adelts &»• 
porung" (i.e. unthread the rude threaded rebeIlioD):bat 
does not say if it is a sentence from any German anthor, 
or merely a translation of Shakespeare's line. He qaotM 
the passage from Lear (given aboveX and also the veil- 
known passage from Richard II. v. &. 16. 17: 

It is as hard to conie as for a camel 
I'o ihread the postern of a nttdWs tyt. 

He says: " The constant combination of the words OatsA 
and eye in all these passages is sufficient to refute tbe 
<lifTerent emendations proposed by the commentaton;" 
and does not except even his own proi>osed emendatiff, 
to substitute tit for tyf; but as the two passages, above 
referred to, are the only ones in which we have the wsrdft 
thread and eye in conjunction ; and as one of tbcit ii 
founded on the well-known passage in the Kew Tali- 
ment, it seems to me that Schmidt goes a little too ftf ii 
claiming that they are sufficient to establish tbe esimt- 
ness of the text in reading unthread. Certainly Umci- 
pressiun seems rather a forced one, though the epitkrt 
rude may bear the double sense of "rough," as sppM 
to rebellion, and of " rudely" or "coarsely made" as ip- 
plied to the eye of a needle. Dr. Cliarles Aunsadslr 
suggests unthreat, i.e. "deprive of threatening look tf 
expression;" but I cannot find any instance of nchs 
word, nor of the analogous use of any verb eompoandcd 
with nn. As .Staunton points out. the spelling of F. 1 i* 
unthred; and thread whenever it occurs in F.l iispA 
thred. It is remarkable that, in tliis same scene beiov. 
(line ri2) wo have : 

We i» ill untread the steps of damned ffiftM. 
I do not think that Shakespeare would have put tbet"** 
expression into the nKtuths of two separate speskm t\ 
such a short interval, though, in the latter case, it isv^ 
in the more literal sttnse. 

298. Line 14: For if the French be LORW qf this U^ 
day. - There certainly seems to Im» something wrowi *W 
this line We shonhl expect, as the Camhridge Ul 
suggest, the French to be in the singular, or, as Wslkrf 
suggests, Franee. Loud is a singular epithet, and \»i^ 
of Clarke's rapturous praise of it, rather nniatrllifi^- 
The only somewhat similar use of this adjective to ^ 



ACT V. Scene 4. 


ACT V. Soene 0. 

foaiid in Shakespemre is in Henry VIII. i. 2. 20, " In Umd 
nbeUion." TUe CamUridge £dd. make a very plautible 


For if the F reach be /bfW of this /r^id tUjr. 

Tbey quote in rapport Henry V. iv. 4. 80, 81: "the French 
might hare a good prey of ui, if he huw of it" 

S98. Line 18: Saint Edinund4bury.-T\ie town of Bury 
St. Edmnnd's in Suffolk. It was in the abbey here that the 
Barons aaserobled, before they drew up their petition to 
King John on which Magna Charta was founded. Holin- 
shed thus describes the event under a.d. 1214: "'iliere 
was brought foorth and also read an ancient charter 
made sometime by Henrie the first (which charter Stephan 
the arehbiahop of Canturburie had deliuered vnto them 
before in the dtie of London) conteining the grant of 
certeine liberties according to the lawes of king Edward 
the confessor, profitable to tlie church and barons of tlie 
icalme, which they purposed to haue vniuersalUe exe- 
enled ouer all the land. And therefore being thus assem- 
bled in the queers of the church of 9. Kdmund, they 
leceiued a solemne oth rpon the alter there, that if the 
Idng would not grant to the same liberties, with others 
whk-h he of his owne accord had promiaed to conflmie to 
them, they would from thencefoorth make warre vpon 
him, till they had obteined their purpose, and inforced 
him to (n^nt. not onelie to all these their petitions, but 
also yeeld to ttie conflnuation of them vnder his scale, 
for euer to remaine moat stedfast and inuiolable" (vol. 
iL pp. S17, 318). Shakespeare does not mention Magna 
Charta. because it does not come into Uie scheme of his 
play; the mainspring of the action being the murder uf 
Arthur and all the circumstances surrounding iL 

lines 94, 25. —Compare Two Gent of Verona, fi. 4. 
lee note 53 on that passage. Hollnshed men- 
tions thai the chief accusation against Roger Boling- 
broke, Margaret Jordan, and the other accomplices of 
Elinor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester, was " that they 
(at the request of the said duchess) had deuised an Image 
of wax representing the king, which by their sorcerie by 
little and little consumed, intending thereby in conclu- 
sion to waste and destroie the kings person" (vol. lii. 
p. 204X For a description of this mode of practising by 
iimgic art upon the life of an enemy, see Middleton, Tlie 
Witch, T. 2: 

Ntc. Wh^ demth tot you desire for Alniachade!»r 

/>mdk, A ioddcn and a subtle. 

//fc. Then I *ve fitted you. 
Here Ue the fifts of both; sudden and subtle : 
Hto picture made in wax, and gently molten 
By a bfaie Are kindled with dead men's eyes, 
wm waste biro by deRTces. 

l^MfM. In what tfane. pritliecf 

//re. Perhaps in a moon's progress. 

DmcM. What, a month f 

Ooft srpoa pictures, if tlicy be su tetliousl 

GtTC ma ibktgt with some Kfe. 

— Worlcs. vol. HL p. 335. 

Lines 40-43: 

Comaund nte to eiM Hubert with ycur kittg : 
2^ leme 9f Aim,— omf ikie ttwptci besidee. 
For tkmi my grandtire woe an Engliehman,— 
A wUtes my emudenee to wnjeu all thin. 

In llie Troublesome Raigne (p. 306) the motive assigned 
by Melun is different in one particular: 

Two causes Lords, malces me display this drift. 
The Kreate^t for the frcedome of my M>ule, 
That loni;s to leaue this mansion free from {{uilt : 
The other on a naturall instinct. 
For tliat my Grandsire was an lingli^hman. 

It is difficult to conjecture why Shakespeare introduces 
this friendship of Melun for Hubert; perhaps he intendeil 
to have made some dramatic use of it, but forgot his in- 

Line 55: Stoop low ipithiu thoee BOVSDH tee have 
o'KRL0OK.'D. —Compare iii. 1. 23 above: 

Like a proud river /tvriji^ o'er Mis battttds. 

308. Line 3: When Englieh vieasure backward their 
own ground.— Altered by Pope to the cacophonous line: 
"When the Elugliah tueaeur'd," dtc. Fleay's explanation 
is, surely, the right one; the meaning is general— the 
sky blushed at English (i.e. Englishmen) uuaetiring back' 
uard, i.e. retreating. 

304. Line 7: And ipound our TOTT'RINO cvlourt CLEARLY 
up.— See Richard 1 1. , note 228. The present participle ia 
used here, pruliahly for the past Clearhj was altered 
l»y Capell to chearly. The Canibridge Edd. conjecture 
cleanly; but either of the meanings given to dearly \n 
our foot-note, suits the sense; for myself, I prefer the 
latter. There is a passage in "Greene'aTuQuo<|ue, orThe 
( Mty Gallant " (a most interesting comedy by John Cooke, 
1G14), which it is only fair to quote, as confirming the 
opinion of those who would make tottering = yrsLvlng. The 
passage i»: 

This da(n;er has a point, do you see itT 

An>l he unto my suit obedient, 

Or you shnll feel it too: 

For I will rather fiiftrr. han^ in clean linen. &c. 

— Dodsley, voL si. p. 974 

The meaning of totter evidently being to loave about in 
the wind, as a l)ody does when hanging on the gibbet 

ACrr V. SCEXK (5. 
806. Lines 3-6.— Arranged in F. 1. thus : 

Basf. Whether doest thou go f 
//ud. What 's that to thee r 

Why may not I demand of tUae affaires. 

As well as thou of minef 
/fast. Hubert. I thinke. 
//m^. Thou hast .1 perfect thought 

We have followed Dyce's arrangement, which seems the 
most sensible one, adopted by him partly from Mr. 
Watkiss Lloyd. 

SOa Lines 12, 13: 

Unkind remembranee ! thou and ENPLES8 ntV;Ae 
Have done me ehame. 

Theobald and Warburton, both, independently, it appears, 
suggested eyelese. an emendation very generally adopted. 
We have not adopted it, only because the reason for 
changing the text does not seem strong enough. It can- 


ACT V. ttoeiM 6. 



iii»t \tv denied that eyeUu U a much more characteriitic 
epithet here than eudUu, and there is a line in Lncreee 
( 1013J containing a very similar epithet of night : 

Poor grooim are tighUttM night, kings gloriom day. 

On the ottier hand, Shakespeare uses endUs$ twice i