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SHAKESPEARE'S 


KING  RICHARD  THE  THIRD. 


INTRODUCTION,  AND  NOTES  EXPLANATORY  AND  CRITICAL. 


FOR    USE   IN  SCHOOLS  AND    FAMILIES. 


<" 
& 


Rev.  HENRY   n:    HUDSON, 

PROFESSOR  OF  SHAKESPEARE  IN  BOSTON  UNIVERSITY, 


*mu  o^  eov 


BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED   BY   GINN,    HEATH,    &   CO. 

1882. 


1*8-*, 


W  Tiaasfot 


,5     liH^ 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1880,  by 

Henry  N.  Hudson, 
in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


Ginn  &  Heath  : 
J.  S.  Cushing,  Printer,  16  Hawley  Street, 
Boston. 


/ 


■*°  7  o 


INTRODUCTION. 


History  of  the  Play. 

THIS  play  was  preceded  by  at  least  two  others  on  the 
same  subject.  The  first  of  these  was  in  Latin,  written 
by  Dr.  Thomas  Legge,  Master  of  Cams  College,  Cambridge, 
and  is  said  to  have  been  acted  at  the  University  as  early  as 
1579.  Sir  John  Harrington,  in  his  Apology  for  Poetry,  1591, 
speaks  of  this  play  as  one  that  "  would  move  Phalaris  the 
tyrant,  and  terrify  all  tyrannous-minded  men."  There  is  no 
reason  for  thinking  that  Shakespeare  ever  saw  it,  or  had  any 
knowledge  of  it.  The  other  was  an  English  drama,  printed 
in  1594,  and  called  "The  True  Tragedy  of  Richard  the 
Third :  Wherein  is  shown  the  death  of  Edward  the  Fourth, 
with  the  smothering  of  the  two  young  Princes  in  the  Tower." 
We  have  no  certain  knowledge  as  to  when  this  piece  was 
written ;  though  no  one  doubts  that  the  writing  was  several 
years  previous  to  1594.  Shakespeare's  drama  indicates  no 
acquaintance  with  it  except  in  two  or  three  slight  particulars  ; 
and  even  here  the  similarity  infers  no  more  knowledge  than 
might  well  enough  have  been  caught  in  the  hearing.  Other 
resemblances  there  are  indeed,  but  only  such  as  would  natu- 
rally result  from  using  a  common  authority.  The  older  piece 
has  little  that  can  be  deemed  worthy  of  notice.  The  work- 
manship, though  crude  and  clumsy  enough,  displays  honesty 
of  mind,  and  is  comparatively  free  from  inflation  and  bom- 
bast.    The  piece   is  written  partly  in  prose   and   partly  in 


4  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

heavy  blank- verse,  interspersed  with  pentameter  couplets  and 
rhyming  stanzas,  and  with  passages  of  fourteen-syllable  lines. 
It  may  be  well  to  add,  for  the  curiosity  of  the  thing,  that, 
after  Richard  is  killed,  Report  enters,  and  holds  a  dialogue 
with  a  Page,  to  give  information  of  divers  things  not  exhib- 
ited ;  after  which,  two  Messengers  come  in,  and  unfold  what 
is  to  be  done  and  who  is  to  reign,  all  the  way  from  Richard 
to  Queen  Elizabeth,  the  whole  winding  up  with  an  elaborate 
panegyric  on  the  latter. 

Shakespeare's  drama  was  entered  in  the  Stationers'  regis- 
ter on  the  20th  of  October,  1597,  and  was  published  the 
same  year,  but  without  the  author's  name.  The  play  was 
reprinted  in  1598,  with  "by  William  Shakespeare"  added 
in  the  title-page.  There  was  a  third  issue  in  1602,  a  fourth 
in  1605,  and  a  fifth  in  1613  ;  the  last  three  all  claiming  to 
be  "newly  augmented,"  though  in  truth  merely  reprints  of 
the  former  two.  The  play  reappeared  in  the  folio  of  1623, 
with  many  slight  alterations  of  text,  with  some  omissions, 
and  with  a  few  additions,  the  latter  extending  in  one  place 
to  fifty-five  consecutive  lines.  Editors  differ  a  good  deal 
as  to  the  comparative  merits  of  the  quarto  and  folio  texts ; 
though  all  admit  that  each  makes  some  damaging  omissions 
which  the  other  must  be  drawn  upon  to  supply.  Mr.  White 
leans  decidedly  to  the  folio ;  while  Dyce,  in  his  latest  edi- 
tion, prefers  the  quarto  text,  on  the  whole.  For  myself,  I 
can  hardly  speak  further  than  that  my  preference  goes  some- 
times with  the  one,  sometimes  with  the  other.  As  the  addi- 
tions in  the  folio  do  not  amount  to  a  general  enlargement 
of  the  piece,  it  does  not  well  appear  what  ground  or  pretext 
the  quarto  of  1602  may  have  had  for  claiming  to  be  "'newly 
augmented."  Perhaps  it  was  but  a  publisher's  trick,  to  in- 
duce a  larger  sale  of  the  new  edition.     The  play,  however, 


INTRODUCTION. 


has  very  marked  diversities  of  style  and  workmanship,  some 
parts  relishing  strongly  of  the  Poet's  earlier,  others  as  strongly 
of  his  middle  period ;  and  I  suspect  the  claim  aforesaid  may 
have  referred,  disingenuously  indeed,  to  changes  made  in 
the  piece  before  the  issue  of  1597. 

The  great  popularity  of  this  play  is  shown  in  the  number 
of  editions  called  for,  wherein  it  surpasses  any  other  of  the 
Poet's  dramas.  For,  besides  the  five  quarto  issues  already 
mentioned,  there  were  also  three  others  in  quarto,  after  the 
folio  appeared ;  which  proves  that  there  was  still  a  good  de- 
mand for  it  in  a  separate  form.  It  was  also  honoured  beyond 
any  of  its  fellows  by  the  notice  of  contemporary  writers. 
It  is  mentioned  by  Meres  in  his  Palladis  Tamia,  1598. 
Next,  we  have  a  very  remarkable  allusion  to  it  in  a  poem 
published  in  16 14,  and  entitled  The  Ghost  of  Richard  the 
Third.  The  author  of  the  poem  gave  only  his  initials, 
"C.  B.";  who  he  was  is  not  positively  known;  some  say 
Charles  Best,  others  Christopher  Brooke:  but  the  strong 
commendatory  verses  upon  him,  which  have  come  down  to 
us  from  such  pens  as  Ben  Jonson,  Chapman,  and  Wither, 
show  him  to  have  been  a  writer  of  no  little  distinction.  The 
Ghost  of  Richard  is  made  to  speak  as  follows  : 

To  him  that  imp'd  my  fame  with  Clio's  quill, 
Whose  magic  raised  me  from  Oblivion's  den, 
That  writ  my  story  on  the  Muses'  hill, 
And  with  my  actions  dignified  his  pen  ; 
He  that  from  Helicon  sends  many  a  rill, 
Whose  nectar'd  veins  are  drunk  by  thirsty  men ; 
Crown'd  be  his  style  with  fame,  his  head  with  bays, 
And  none  detract,  but  gratulate  his  praise. 

Fuller,  also,  in  his  Church  History,  and  Milton,  in  one  of 
his  political  eruptions,  refer  to  the  play  as  well  known  ■  and 
Bishop  Corbet,  writing  in   161 7,  gives  a  quaint  description 


6  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

of  his  host  at  Bosworth,  which  is  highly  curious  as  witnessing 
both  what  an  impression  the  play  had  made  on  the  popular 
mind,  and  also  how  thoroughly  the  hero's  part  had  become 
identified  with  Richard  Burbage,  the  original  performer  of  it : 

Mine  host  was  full  of  ale  and  history  ; 
And  in  the  niorning,  when  he  brought  us  nigh 
Where  the  two  Roses  join'd,  you  would  suppose 
Chaucer  ne'er  made  The  Romaunt  of  the  Rose. 
Hear  him  :  See  you  yon  wood?  there  Richard  lay 

With  his  whole  army.     Look  the  other  way, 
And,  lo  /  where  Richmond  in  a  bed  of  gorse 
Encamp 'd  himself  all  ?iight,  and  all  his  force  : 

Upon  this  hill  they  met.     Why,  he  could  tell 

The  inch  where  Richmond  stood,  where  Richard  fell. 

Besides  what  of  his  knowledge  he  could  say, 

He  had  authentic  notice  from  the  play ; 

Which  I  might  guess  by's  mustering  up  the  ghosts, 

And  policies  not  incident  to  hosts  ; 

But  chiefly  by  that  one  perspicuous  thing 

Where  he  mistook  a  player  for  a  king  : 

For,  when  he  would  have  said,  King  Richard  died, 

And  call'd,  A  horse,  a  horse  !  he  Burbage  cried  ! 


Time  of  the  "Writing. 

As  regards  the  date  of  the  composition,  the  entry  at  the 
Stationers'  is  the  only  clear  item  of  external  evidence  that 
we  have.  The  internal  evidence  makes  strongly  for  as  early 
a  date  as  1592  or  1593.  The  general  style,  though  showing 
a  decided  advance  on  that  of  the  Second  and  Third  Parts 
of  King  Henry  the  Sixth,  is  strictly  continuous  with  it,  while 
the  history  and  characterization  of  the  three  plays  so  knit  in 
together  as  to  make  them -all  of  one  piece  and  texture.  And 
it  is  all  but  certain  that  the  Poet's  King  Henry  the  Sixth  was 
finished  as  early  as  1592.     In  Clarence's  account  of  his  dream 


INTRODUCTION.  7 

and  in  Tyrrel's  description  of  the  murder  of  the  young  Princes,  _ 
Shakespeare  is  out  in  his  plenitude  of  poetical  wealth ;  and 
the  delineation  of  Richard  is  indeed  a  marvel  of  sustained 
vigour  and  versatile  aptness  :  nevertheless  the  play,  as  a  whole, 
evinces  somewhat  less  maturity  of  power  than  King  Richard 
the  Second :  in  several  cases  there  is  great  insubordination  of 
the  details  to  the  general  plan  :  the  points  of  tragic  stress  are 
more  frequent,  and  the  dramatic  motives  more  on  the  surface 
and  more  obvious,  not  to  say  obtrusive,  than  may  well  con- 
sist with  the  reason  and  law  of  Art :  there  is  also  too  much 
piling-up  of  curses,  or  too  much  ringing  of  changes  in  impre- 
cation ;  and  in  Richard's  wooing  of  Lady  Anne  and  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  there  is  an  excess  of  dialogical  epigram  and  anti- 
phrastic  point,  with  challenge  and  retort  alternating  through  a 
prolonged  series  of  stichometrical  speeches  :  all  which  shows 
indeed  a  prodigious  fertility  of  thought,  but  betrays  withal  a 
sort  of  mental  incontinence,  or  a  want  of  that  self-restraining 
judgment  which,  in  the  Poet's  later  dramas,  tempers  all  the 
parts  and  elements  into  artistic  harmony  and  proportion. 
Then  too  the  ethical  idea  or  sense,  instead  of  being  duly 
poised  or  interfused  with  the  dramatic  current,  comes  too 
near  overriding  and  displacing  it ;  the  pressure  of  a  special 
purpose  marring  the  organic  symmetry  of  the  work. 

The  close  connection  between  this  play  and  the  Third  Part 
of  King  Henry  the  Sixth  is  so  evident  as  to  leave  no  occasion 
for  tracing  it  out  in  detail.  At  the  opening  of  the  one  we 
have  Richard  flouting  in  soliloquy  at  the  "stately  triumphs  " 
and  "  mirthful  comic  shows  "  with  which,  at  the  close  of  the 
other,  King  Edward  had  proposed  to  celebrate  the  final  and 
full  establishment  of  his  cause.  It  was  indeed  fitting  that,  on 
Richard's  first  appearance  as  a  dramatic  hero,  we  should 
overhear  him  at  his  old  practice  of  ruminating  aloud,  and 


8  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

thus  familiarizing  his  thoughts  with  the  villainies  which  he  has 
it  in  purpose  to  enact.  Everybody  may  well  be  presumed  to 
know  how  Colley  Cibber,  being  seized  with  a  fit  of  progress, 
took  upon  him  to  reform  Shakespeare's  King  Richard  the 
Third  into  fitness  for  the  stage.  As  the  original  play  was  too 
long  for  representation,  his  mode  of  retrenching  it  to  the 
proper  compass  was,  in  part,  by  transporting  into  it  a  scene 
or  two  from  the  foregoing  play.  I  notice  the  fact,  now,  mere- 
ly as  showing  that  he  saw  the  perfect  continuity  of  the  two 
pieces ;  though,  as  would  seem,  he  did  not  perceive  the 
absurdity  of  thus  setting  the  catastrophe  of  one  at  the  opening 
of  the  other. 

Date  and  Period,  of  the  Action. 

Historically  considered,  the  play  in  hand  embraces  a  period 
of  something  over  fourteen  years,  namely,  from  the  death  of 
Henry,  in  May,  1471,  to  the  fall  of  Richard,  in  August,  1485. 
Half  of  this  period,  however,  is  dispatched  in  the  first  Act ; 
the  funeral  of  Henry,  the  marriage  of  Richard  with  Lady  Anne, 
and  the  death  of  Clarence  being  represented  as  occurring  all 
about  the  same  time  ;  whereas  in  fact  they  were  separated 
by  considerable  intervals,  the  latter  not  taking  place  till  Feb- 
ruary, 1478.  And  there  is  a  similar  abridgment,  or  rather 
suppression  of  time  between  the  first  Act  and  the  second  ;  as 
the  latter  opens  with  the  sickness  of  King  Edward,  his  seem- 
ing reconciliation  of  the  peers,  and  his  death  ;  all  which  oc- 
curred in  April,  1483.  Thenceforward  the  events  of  the  drama 
are  mainly  disposed  in  the  order  of  their  actual  occurrence  ; 
the  drama  being  perhaps  as  true  to  the  history  as  were  prac- 
ticable or  desirable  in  a  work  so  different  in  its  nature  and 


use. 


This  drawing  together  and  massing  of  the  scattered  events 


INTRODUCTION.  9 

is  eminently  judicious  ;  for  the  plan  of  the  drama  required 
them  to  be  used  only  as  subservient  to  the  hero's  character ; 
and  it  does  not  appear  how  the  Poet  could  have  ordered 
them  better  for  developing,  in  the  most  forcible  manner,  his 
idea  of  that  extraordinary  man.  So  that  the  selection  and 
grouping  of  the  secondary  incidents  are  regulated  by  the 
paramount  law  of  the  work ;  and  they  are  certainly  made  to 
tell  with  masterly  effect  in  furtherance  of  the  author's  purpose. 

Relation  of  the  Play  to  History. 

As  to  the  moral  complexion  of  Shakespeare's  Richard, 
the  incidents  whereby  his  character  in  this  respect  transpires 
are  nearly  all  taken  from  the  historians,  with  only  such 
heightening  as  it  is  the  prerogative  of  poetry  to  lend,  even 
when  most  tied  to  actual  events.  In  the  Poet's  time,  the 
prevailing  ideas  of  Richard  were  derived  from  the  history 
of  his  life  and  reign  written  by  Sir  Thomas  More.  More's 
character  as  a  man  is  above  all  suspicion  of  malice  or  un- 
fairness or  rash  judgment ;  while  his  clear  legal  mind  and 
his  thorough  training  in  the  law  rendered  him  a  master  in  the 
art  of  sifting  and  weighing  evidence.  His  early  life  was 
passed  in  the  household  of  Cardinal  Morton,  who  figures  as 
Bishop  of  Ely  in  the  play ;  so  that  he  had  ready  access  to 
the  best  sources  of  information :  and  this,  together  with 
his  "  monumental  probity"  and  his  approved  goodness  of 
heart,  stamps  his  work  with  as  much  credibility  as  can  well 
attach  to  any  record  of  contemporary  events.  His  book  was 
written  in  15 13,  when  he  was  thirty-three  years  old;  and,  in 
speaking  of  those  concerned  in  the  murder  of  the  Princes, 
he  says,  "  Dighton  yet  walketh  on  alive,  in  good  possibility 
to  be  handed  ere  lie  die."     The  character  of  Richard    as 


IO  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

drawn  by  him,  and  as  received  in  the  Poet's  time,  is  well 
shown  in  Bacon's  History  of  Henry  the  Seventh  : 

'•'  The  body  of  Richard,  after  many  indignities  and  re- 
proaches, the  diriges  and  obsequies  of  the  common  people 
towards  tyrants,  was  obscurely  buried ;  no  man  thinking 
any  ignominy  or  contumely  unworthy  of  him  that  had  been 
the  executioner  of  King  Henry  the  Sixth,  that  innocent 
prince,  with  his  own  hands ;  the  contriver  of  the  death  of 
the  Duke  of  Clarence,  his  brother ;  the  murderer  of  his  two 
nephews,  one  of  them  his  lawful  king ;  and  vehemently 
suspected  to  have  been  the  impoisoner  of  his  wife,  thereby 
to  make  vacant  his  bed  for  a  marriage  within  the  degrees 
forbidden.  And  although  he  were  a  prince  in  military  virtue 
approved,  jealous  of  the  honour  of  the  English  nation,  and 
likewise  a  good  law-maker,  for  the  ease  and  solace  of  the 
common  people ;  yet  his  cruelties  and  parricides,  in  the 
opinion  of  all  men,  weighed  down  his  virtues  and  merits ; 
and,  in  the  opinion  of  wise  men,  even  those  virtues  them- 
selves were  conceived  to  be  rather  feigned  and  affected 
things,  to  serve  his  ambition,  than  true  qualities  ingenerate 
in  his  judgment  and  nature." 

Nevertheless  much  has  since  been  written  to  explode  the 
current  history  of  Richard,  and  to  lessen,  if  not  remove, 
the  abhorrence  in  which  his  memory  had  come  to  be  held. 
The  Poet  has  not  been  left  without  his  share  of  criticism 
and  censure  for  the  alleged  blackening  of  his  dramatic  hero. 
This  attempt  at  reforming  public  opinion  was  led  off  by  Sir 
George  Buck,  whose  History  of  Richard  the  Third  was 
published  in  1646.  The  general  drift  of  his  book  is  well 
indicated  by  Fuller  in  his  Church  History,  who  is  himself 
high  authority  on  the  matters  in  question  :  "  He  eveneth 
Richard's  shoulders,  smoothed    his  back,  planeth  his  teeth, 


INTRODUCTION.  II 

and  maketh  him.  in  all  points  a  comely  and  beautiful  person. 
Nor  stoppeth  he  here ;  but,  proceeding  from  his  naturals  to 
his  morals,  maketh  him  as  virtuous  as  handsome  ;  conceal- 
ing most,  denying  some,  defending  others,  of  his  foulest 
facts,  wherewith  in  all  ages  since  he  standeth  charged  on 
record.  For  mine  own  part,  I  confess  it  is  no  heresy  to 
maintain  a  paradox  in  history ;  nor  am  I  such  an  enemy  to 
wit  as  not  to  allow  it  leave  harmlessly  to  disport  itself  for 
its  own  content,  and  the  delight  of  others.  But  when  men 
do  it  cordially,  in  sober  sadness,  to  pervert  people's  judg- 
ments, and  therein  go  against  all  received  records,  I  say 
that  singularity  is  the  least  fault  that  can  be  laid  to  such 
men's  charges." 

Something  more  than  a  century  later,  the  work  was  re- 
sumed and  carried  on  with  much  acuteness  by  Horace  Wal- 
pole  in  his  Historic  Doubts.  And  several  other  writers  have 
since  put  their  hands  to  the  same  task.  Still  the  old  judg- 
ment seems  likely  to  stand,  the  main  substance  thereof  not 
having  been  much  shaken  yet.  Dr.  Lingard  has  carried 
to  the  subject  his  usual  candour  and  research ;  and,  after 
dispatching  the  strong  points  urged  on  the  other  side,  winds 
up  his  account  of  Richard  thus  :  "  Writers  have  indeed  in 
modern,  times  attempted  to  prove  his  innocence;  but  their 
arguments  are  rather  ingenious  than  conclusive,  and  dwindle 
into  groundless  conjectures  when  confronted  with  the  evi- 
dence which  may  be  arrayed  against  them."  The  killing  of 
the  two  Princes  formed  the  backbone  of  the  guilt  laid  at 
Richard's  door.  That  they  did  actually  disappear,  is  tolera- 
bly certain ;  that  upon  him  fell  whatever  advantage  could 
grow  from  their  death,  is  equally  so  ;  and  it  is  for  those  who 
deny  the  cause  uniformly  assigned  at  the  time,  and  long 
after,  for  their  disappearance,  to  tell  us  how  and  by  whom 


12  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

they  were  put  out  of  the  way.  And  Sharon  Turner,  who 
may  be  justly  ranked  among  the  severest  sifters  of  historic 
fictions  and  fables,  is  constrained  to  admit  Richard's  murder 
of  his  nephews  ;  and,  so  long  as  this  blood-stain  remains,  the 
scouring  of  others,  however  it  may  diminish  his  crimes,  will 
hardly  lighten  his  criminality. 

But  even  if  Shakespeare's  delineation  were  proved  to  be 
essentially  untrue  to  Richard  as  he  was  in  himself,  this 
would  not  touch  the  standing  of  his  work  as  a  dramatic 
reproduction  of  historical  matter.  For  the  Poet's  vindica- 
tion on  this  score,  it  suffices  that  his  Richard,  so  far  at  least 
as  regards  the  moral  complexion  of  the  man,  is  substantially 
the  Richard  of  the  chroniclers,  and  of  all  the  historical  au- 
thorities received  and  studied  in  his  time.  Besides,  to  satisfy 
the  nice  scruples  and  queries  of  historic  doubters  and  dialec- 
ticians, is  not  a  poet's  business  :  his  concern  is  with  Truth 
in  her  operative  form,  not  in  her  abstract  essence  ;  and  to 
pursue  the  latter  were  to  anatomize  history,  instead  of  repre- 
senting it.  Whether,  then,  Richard  was  in  fact  guilty  of 
such  and  such  crimes,  matters  little ;  it  being  enough  that 
he  was  generally  believed  to  be  so,  and  that  this  belief  was  the 
mother-principle  of  those  national  events  whereon  the  drama 
turns.  That  Richard  was  a  prince  of  abundant  head ;  that 
his  government  was  in  the  main  wise  and  just ;  that  he  was 
sober  in  counsel,  brave  in  the  field,  and  far-sighted  in  both ; 
—  all  this  only  renders  it  the  harder  to  account  for  that 
general  desertion  which  left  him  almost  naked  to  his  foes, 
but  by  such  a  deep  and  wide-spread  conviction  of  his 
wickedness  as  no  puttings-forth  of  intellect  could  overcome. 
Thus  his  fall,  so  sudden  and  complete,  was  mainly  in  virtue 
of  what  he  was  thought  to  be.  And  forasmuch  as  the  char- 
acter generally  set  upon  him  at  the  time,  if  not  the  essential 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

truth  regarding  him,  was  the  stuff  out  of  which  were  spun 
his  overthrow,  and  the  consequent  opening  of  a  new  social 
and  political  era ;  such  therefore  was  the  only  character  that 
would  cohere  with  the  circumstances,  so  as  to  be  capable 
of  dramatic  development. 

Source  of  the  Historic  Matter. 

More's  history,  as  it  is  commonly  called,  was  adopted  by 
both  Hall  and  Holinshed  into  their  Chronicles.  In  that 
noble  composition,  the  main  features  of  the  man  are  digested 
and  drawn  together  as  follows  : 

"Richard,  the  third  son,  was  in  wit  and  courage  equal 
with  either  of  them ;  little  of  stature,  ill-featured  of  limbs, 
crook-backed,  his  left  shoulder  much  higher  than  his  right, 
hard-favoured  of  visage  ;  malicious,  wrathful,  envious,  and 
from  afore  his  birth  ever  froward.  Free  he  was  called  of 
dispense,  and  somewhat  above  his  power  liberal :  with  large 
gifts  he  gat  him  unsteadfast  friendship,  for  which  he  was  fain 
to  pill  and  spoil  in  other  places,  and  gat  him  steadfast  hatred. 
He  was  close  and  secret,  a  deep  dissembler,  lowly  of  counte- 
nance, arrogant  of  heart ;  outwardly  companionable  where  he 
inwardly  hated,  not  letting  to  kiss  whom  he  thought  to  kill ; 
despiteous  and  cruel,  not  for  evil  will  always,  but  oftener  for 
ambition,  and  for  the  surety  or  increase  of  his  estate.  His 
face  was  small,  but  such,  that  at  the  first  aspect  a  man  would 
judge  it  to  savour  of  malice,  fraud,  and  deceit.  When  he 
stood  musing,  he  would  bite  and  chaw  his  nether  lip  ;  as 
who  said  that  his  fierce  nature  in  his  cruel  body  always 
chafed,  stirred,  and  was  ever  unquiet :  besides  that  the  dag- 
ger which  he  wore  he  would,  when  he  studied,  with  his  hand 
pluck  up  and  down  in  the  sheath  to  the  midst,  never  drawing 
it  fully  out."     Again   the    same    writer  notes  him  as  being 


14  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

inordinately  fond  of  splendid  and  showy  dress  ;  thus  evincing 
an  intense  craving  to  be  "  looked  on  in  the  world,"  and  to 
fascinate  the  eyes  of  men. 

Shakespeare's  Richard,  morally  speaking,  is  little  else  than 
this  descriptive  analysis  reduced  to  dramatic  life  and  expres- 
sion ;  except,  perhaps,  that  More  regards  him  as  a  hypocrite 
by  nature,  and  cruel  from  policy,  whereas  the  Poet  rather 
makes  his  cruelty  innate,  and  his  hypocrisy  a  politic  art  used 
in  furtherance  of  his  ambition. 

Growth  of  Richard's  Character. 

In  the  present  play,  we  have  the  working-out  of  the  hero's 
character  as  already  formed ;  the  processes  of  its  formation 
being  set  forth  in  the  preceding  plays  of  King  Henry  the 
Sixth  ;  which  is  sufficient  cause  for  adverting  to  a  few  points 
there  delivered.  And  in  this  case,  as  in  sundry  others,  the 
Poet  suggests,  at  the  very  outset,  the  pivot  on  which  the 
character  mainly  turns.  When  we  first  meet  with  Richard, 
Clifford  taunts  him  : 

Hence,  heap  of  wrath,  foul  indigested  lump, 
As  crooked  in  thy  manners  as  thy  shape ! 

And  again  in  the  same  scene  he  is  called  "foul  stigmatic  "  ; 
because  the  stigma  set  on  his  person  is  both  to  others  the 
handiest  theme  of  reproach,  and  also  to  himself  the  most 
annoying ;  like  a  huge  boil  on  a  man's  face,  which,  for  its 
unsightliness,  his  enemies  see-  most,  and,  for  its  soreness, 
strike  first.  And  Richard's  personal  deformity  is  regarded 
not  only  as  the  proper  outshaping  and  physiognomy  of  a 
certain  original  malignity  of  soul,  but  also  as  aggravating  that 
malignity  in  turn  ;  his  shape  having  grown  ugly  because  his 
spirit  was  bad,  and  his  spirit  growing  worse  because  of  his 


INTRODUCTION.  1 5 

ugly  shape.  For  his  ill-looks  invite  reproach,  and  reproach 
quickens  his  malice  ;  and  because  men  hate  to  look  on  him, 
therefore  he  craves  all  the  more  to  be  looked  on ;  and,  for 
the  gaining  of  his  wish  in  this  point,  he  covets  nothing  so 
much  as  the  being  able  through  fear  to  compel  that  which 
inclination  denies.  Thus  experience  generates  in  him  a 
most  inordinate  lust  of  power;  while  the  circumstantial 
impossibility  of  coming  at  this  save  by  crime  puts  him  upon 
such  a  course  of  intellectual  training  and  practice  as  may 
enable  him  to  commit  crimes,  and  still  bar  off  the  natural 
consequences. 

Moreover  his  extreme  vanity  results  in  a  morbid  sensitive- 
ness to  any  signs  of  neglect  or  scorn ;  and  these  being  espe- 
cially offensive  to  himself,  he  therefore  has  the  greater  delight 
in  venting  them  on  others  :  as  taunts  and  scoffs  are  a  form 
of  power  which  he  feels  most  keenly,  he  thence  grows  fond 
of  using  them  as  an  apt  form  whereby  to  make  his  power 
felt.  For  even  so  bad  men  naturally  covet  to  be  wielding 
upon  others  the  causes  and  instruments  of  their  own  suffer- 
ings. Hence  the  bitterly-sarcastic  humour  which  Richard 
indulges  so  freely,  and  with  such  prodigious  effect.  Of 
course  his  sensitiveness  is  keenest  touching  the  very  particular 
wherein  his  vanity  is  most  thwarted  and  wounded  :  he  thinks 
of  nothing  so  much  as  the  ugliness  that  balks  his  desire,  and 
resents  nothing  so  sharply  as  the  opinion  or  feeling  it  arrays 
against  him.  Accordingly  his  first  and  heaviest  shots  of  sar- 
casm are  at  those  who  twit  him  on  that  score.  So,  in  the 
scene  where  the  Lancastrian  Prince  of  Wales  is  killed,  Rich- 
ard seems  unmoved  till  the  Prince  hits  him  in  that  eye,  when 
his  wrath  takes  fire  at  once,  and  bursts  out  in  the  reply,  "  By 
Heaven,  brat,  I'll  plague  you  for  that  word." 

All  which  explains  the  cause  of  Richard's  being  so  prone 


T6  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

to  "  descant  on  his  own  deformity."  His  thoughts  brood 
upon  this,  because  it  is  the  sorest  spot  in  his  condition ;  and 
he  becomes  intent  on  making  it  the  source  of  a  dearer  grati- 
fication than  any  it  deprives  him  of,  —  the  consciousness  of 
such  mental  powers  as  can  bear  him  onward  and  upward  in 
spite  of  those  disadvantages.  Thus  his  sense  of  personal 
disgrace  begets  a  most  hateful  and  malignant  form  of  pride, 
—  the  pride  of  intellectual  force  and  mastery.  Hence  he 
comes  to  glory  in  the  matter  of  his  shame,  to  exaggerate  it, 
and  hang  over  it,  as  serving  to  approve,  to  set  off,  and  mag- 
nify his  strength  and  fertility  of  wit ;  as  who  would  say, 
Nature  indeed  made  me  the  ^reproach  and  scorn  of  men, 
nevertheless  I  have  made  myself  their  wonder  and  applause  ; 
and  though  my  body  be  such  that  men  could  not  bear  the 
sight  of  me,  yet  I  have  managed  to  charm  their  eyes. 

In  this  way  the  man's  galling  wakefulness  to  his  own 
unsightly  shape  festers  and  malignities  into  a  kind  of  self- 
pleasing  virulence.  Nor  is  this  ail.  For,  on  much  the  same 
principle,  he  nurses  to  the  highest  pitch  his  consciousness 
also  of  moral  deformities.  So  far  from  palliating  his  wicked- 
ness to  himself,  or  skulking  behind  any  subterfuges,  or  try- 
ing in  any  way  to  dodge  the  sense  of  it,  he  rather  makes 
love  to  it,  and  exults  in  spreading  it  out  and  turning  it  round 
before  his  inward  eye,  and  even  stimulates  his  vision  of  it ; 
as  if  he  were  so  charmed  with  the  sight  that  he  could  not 
bear  to  lose  any  moment  of  it.  To  succeed  by  wrong,  to 
rise  by  crime,  to  grow  great  by  inverting  the  moral  order  of 
things,  is  in  his  view  the  highest  proof  of  genius  and  skill. 
So  he  cooks  both  his  moral  and  personal  ugliness  into  food 
of  intellectual  pride.  The  worse  he  sees  himself  to  be,  the 
higher  he  stands  in  his  own  esteem,  because  this  argues  in 
him  the  greater  superiority  to  other  men  in  force  of  mind. 


INTRODUCTION.  \J 

This  aspect  of  the  man  is  indeed  startling,  but  I  think  it  is 
fully  borne  out  by  his  soliloquies  in  the  Third  Part  of  King 
Henry  the  Sixth  ;  especially  that  in  Act  hi.,  scene  2  : 

Well,  say  there  is  no  kingdom,  then,  for  Richard  ; 

What  other  pleasure  can  the  world  afford  ? 

I'll  make  my  heaven  in  a  lady's  lap, 

And  deck  my  body  in  gay  ornaments, 

And  witch  sweet  ladies  with  my  words  and  looks. 

0  miserable  thought  !  and  more  unlikely 
Than  to  accomplish  twenty  golden  crowns  ! 
Why,  Love  forswore  me  in  my  mother's  womb  : 
And,  for  I  should  not  deal  in  her  soft  laws, 

She  did  corrupt  frail  Nature  with  some  bribe, 
To  shrink  mine  arm  up  like  a  wither'd  shrub  ; 
To  make  an  envious  mountain  on  my  back, 
Where  sits  deformity  to  mock  my  body  ; 
To  shape  my  legs  of  an  unequal  size  ; 
To  disproportion  me  in  every  part. 
Then,  since  this  Earth  affords  no  joy  to  me, 
But  to  command,  to  check,  to  o'erbear  such 
As  are  of  better  person  than  myself, 
I'll  make  my  heaven  to  dream  upon  the  crown, 
And,  whiles  I  live,  t'  account  this  world  but  Hell, 
Until  my  head,  that  this  mis-shaped  trunk  bears, 
Be  round  impaled  with  a  glorious  crown. 
Why,  I  can  smile,  and  murder  whiles  I  smile  ; 
And  cry  Content  to  that  which  grieves  my  heart  ; 
And  wet  my  cheeks  with  artificial  tears, 
And  frame  my  face  to  all  occasions  : 

1  can  add  colours  to  the  chameleon  ; 
Change  shapes  with  Proteus  for  advantages  ; 
And  set  the  murderous  Machiavel  to  school. 

So  much  for  the  Poet's  Richard  as  his  character  is  seen 
growing  and  taking  shape.  His  innate  malice  has  had  fit- 
ting exercise  and  nurture  amidst  the  rancours  and  fierceness 
of  civil  slaughter  :  by  his  immunities  of  rank  and  station,  his 
native  strength  of  will  has  been  pampered  into  a  towering 


1 8  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

audacity  of  thought  and  purpose  :  the  constant  presence  and 
ever-shifting  forms  of  danger  have  trained  him  to  a  most  pro- 
tean hypocrisy :  he  is  a  consummate  master  alike  in  the  arts 
of  dissembling  and  of  simulation  ;  can  counterfeit  brusque- 
ness,  meekness,  innocence,  humility,  sorrow,  anger,  indigna- 
tion, artlessness,  and  piety ;  and  can  play  the  blusterer,  the 
wag,  the  boon  companion,  the  penitent,  the  lover,  the  devo- 
tee, the  hot  partisan,  the  hearty  friend,  the  cool  adviser,  and 
the  passionate  avenger;  each  in  turn,  or  several  of  them 
together,  as  the  occasion  prompts,  or  the  end  requires.  But, 
whatever  sentiment  he  is  feigning,  or  whatever  part  he  is 
playing,  his  biting,  malicious  wit  is  ever  in  action,  as  if  this 
were  an  original  impulse  with  him,  and  the  natural  pastime 
of  his  faculties.  Many  strong  instances  of  this  occur  in  the 
plays  where  he  is  growing,  but  nothing  to  what  we  have  from 
the  full-grown  Richard  in  the  play  that  bears  his  name. 
Any  quotations  in  this  kind  would  use  up  too  much  space  ; 
so  I  must  rest  with  noting  that  we  have  a  good  sample  in 
Act  i.,  scene  3,  where,  coming  abruptly  into  the  presence  of 
the  Queen  and  her  friends,  he  counterfeits  passion  as  the 
language  of  grieved  and  injured  virtue  ;  and  a  still  better 
one  in  Act  iv.,  scene  2,  where  he  plays  off  his  caustic  banter 
on  "the  deep-revolving  witty  Buckingham."  In  his  pride 
of  intellectual  superiority,  he  looks  with  intense  scorn  on  all 
in  any  sort  touched  with  honesty ;  they  are  game  to  him  ; 
and  his  supreme  delight  is  in  mocking  at  such  "  simple  gulls  " 
as  Clarence,  Hastings,  Stanley,  Buckingham  ;  and  it  is  by  his 
dry,  stinging  pungency  of  speech  that  he  engineers  his  con- 
tempt of  them  to  the  spot.  Those  whom  it  is  not  in  his 
power  or  his  policy  to  kill  he  loves  at  least  to  torment  with 
wounding  flouts. 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

Richard's  Intellect. 

I  have  said  that  the  moral  complexion  of  Shakespeare's 
Richard  was  mainly  taken  from  the  Historians.  Intellectually, 
however,  his  proportions  are  drawn  much  beyond  what  the 
history  accords  him.  I  suppose  there  was  very  good  reason 
for  this.  For,  to  have  set  forth  such  a  moral  physiognomy 
in  dramatic  form,  with  only  his  actual  endowment  of  mind, 
would  scare  consist  with  so  much  of  pleasure  in  his  gifts  as 
was  required  to  countervail  the  horror  of  his  crimes.  Such  a 
measure  of  depravity,  stripped  of  the  disguise  which  it  neces- 
sarily keeps  up  in  real  life,  might  indeed  be  valuable  as  truth, 
but  would  hardly  do  as  poetry.  Which  may  aptly  suggest 
the  different  laws  of  History  and  Art.  Now  the  method  of 
History  is  to  please  because  it  instructs ;  of  Art,  to  instruct 
because  it  pleases.  Such,  at  least,  is  the  best  way  I  can  find 
of  marking  the  difference  in  question.  The  forms  of  poetry 
are  relished,  not  as  being  fitted  to  facts,  but  as  they  fit  the 
mind.  Nor  does  this  infer  any  defect  of  real  instructiveness 
in  Art ;  for  whatever  pleasure  springs  in  virtue  of  such  cor- 
respondence with  our  better  nature  carries  refreshment  and 
invigoration  in  its  touch. 

Practically,  no  man  ever  understood  this  thing  better  than 
Shakespeare.  Nor,  perhaps,  is  his  understanding  thereof 
better  shown  anywhere  than  in  Richard.  The  lines  of  his 
wickedness  as  traced  in  history  are  somewhat  deepened  in 
the  play,  and  its  features  are  charged  with  boisterous  life ; 
making,  all  together,  a  fearful  picture,  and  such  as,  without 
counterpoising  attractions,  would  be  apt  to  shock  and  revolt 
the  beholder.  But  his  intellectuality  is  idealized  so  far  and 
in  such  sort  as  to  season  the  impression  of  his  moral  deformity 
with  the  largest  and  most  various  mental  entertainment.     If 


20  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

Richard  is  all  villain,  he  is  an  all-accomplished  one.  And  any 
painful  sense  of  his  villainy  is  spirited  away  by  his  thronging 
diversions  of  thought,  his  unflagging  gayety  of  spirits,  his 
prompt,  piercing,  versatile  wit.  Nay,  his  very  crimes  beget 
occasion  for  these  enchantments,  while  every  demand  seems 
in  effect  to  replenish  his  stock :  and  thus  the  hateful  in  his 
character  is  so  compensated  by  the  admirable,  that  we  are 
more  than  reconciled  to  his  company,  though  nowise  recon- 
ciled to  his  crimes. 

This  point  is  well  illustrated  in  Richard's  wooing  of  Lady 
Anne,  where  the  rays  of  his  character  are  all  gathered,  as  it 
were,  into  a  focus.  Now,  whatever  may  have  been  the  facts 
in  the  case,  it  is  certain  that  Richard  was  at  the  time  generally 
believed  by  the  Lancastrians  to  have  had  a  hand  in  killing 
both  Henry  the  Sixth  and  Edward  his  son.  It  is  also  certain 
that  within  two  years  after  their  death  Richard  was  married 
to  Edward's  widow,  who  must  in  all  reason  be  supposed  to 
have  shared  in  the  common  belief  of  her  party.  How  that 
party  felt  on  the  subject  well  appears  in  that  the  late  King 
was  revered  by  them  as  a  martyr,  and  his  tomb  hallowed  as 
the  abode  of  miraculous  efficacies  ;  for  which  cause  Richard 
had  his  bones  removed  to  a  more  secluded  place.  On 
Richard's  part,  the  chief  motive  to  the  marriage  probably 
was,  that  he  might  have  a  share  in  the  immense  estates  of  the 
lady's  father,  who  was  Richard  Neville,  the  great  Earl  of  War- 
wick, known  in  history  as  "the  King- maker,"  and  in  Shake- 
speare as  "  the  setter-up  and  puller-down  of  kings."  For,  as 
Clarence,  having  married  the  elder  daughter,  grasped  at  the 
whole ;  and  as  Richard  proposed  by  taking  the  younger  to 
acquire  a  part ;  hence  arose  the  fierce  strife  between  them, 
from  which  grew  the  general  persuasion  that  Richard  was 
somehow  the   cause   of  his   brother's    death.     Perhaps,   as 


INTRODUCTION.  21 

indicating  the  manner  and  spirit  of  the  contest,  it  should 
be  mentioned  that  Clarence,  to  thwart  Richard's  purpose,  at 
first  had  the  lady  concealed  from  his  pursuit  several  months  in 
the  disguise  of  a  cook-maid ;  and  that,  when  at  last  the  former 
saw  he  could  not  prevent  the  marriage,  he  swore  that  the  lat- 
ter "should  not  part  the  livelihood  with  him." 

So  that  the  Poet  is  nowise  answerable  for  this  difficulty : 
it  was  in  the  history ;  and  the  best  he  could  do  was  to  fur- 
nish such  a  solution  of  it  as  would  stand  with  the  conditions 
of  dramatic  effect.  Before  solving  the  difficulty,  however, 
he  greatly  augments  it  by  suppression  of  time.  Richard 
begins  and  finishes  his  courtship  of  the  lady  over  the  very- 
coffin  of  the  royal  saint  whose  death  she  is  mourning,  and 
whom  he  is  supposed  to  have  murdered.  Yet  his  triumph, 
such  is  the  Poet's  management,  seems  owing  not  so  much 
to  any  special  vice  or  defect  in  her  as  to  his  witchcraft  of 
tongue  and  wit,  so  put  in  play  as  to  disconcert  all  her  powers 
of  resistance.  In  a  word,  it  is  because  the  man  is  simply 
irresistible.  And  it  should  be  remembered  in  her  behalf, 
that  his  art  succeeds  equally  in  beguiling  King  Edward, 
Clarence,  Hastings,  Buckingham,  and  others.  His  towering 
audacity,  which,  springing  from  entire  confidence  in  his 
powers,  prevails  in  part  by  the  very  boldness  of  its  attempts  ; 
his  flexibility  and  suppleness  of  thought,  turning  himself  in- 
differently to  all  occasions,  forms,  and  modes  of  address; 
his  perfect  self-possession  and  presence  of  mind,  never  at 
a  loss  for  a  shift,  nor  betrayed  into  a  misstep,  nor  surprised 
into  a  pause ;  his  wily  dissimulation,  and  more  wily  "frank- 
ness, silencing  her  charges  by  pleading  guilty  to  them,  parry- 
ing her  blows  by  inviting  them,  disarming  her  hatred  by 
owning  its  justice;  and  his  simulating  deep  contrition  for 
past  misdeeds,  and  the  inspiration  of  her  virtue  and  beauty 


22  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

as  the  cause  of  it ;  —  such  are  the  parts  of  the  sly,  subtle, 
unfearing,  remorseless  Richard  that  are  wrought  out  in  his 
courtship  of  Lady  Anne. 

The  scene  is  indeed  far  from  being  the  best,  or  even 
among  the  best,  in  the  play ;  but  it  combines  a  remarkable 
variety  of  characteristic  points,  and  happily  exemplifies  the 
Poet's  method  of  diverting  off  the  offensiveness  of  Richard's 
acts  by  the  entertainment  of  his  gifts.  In  these  respects, 
we  have  a  repetition  of  the  scene  afterwards,  when  he  in  like 
manner  triumphs,  or  seems  to  triumph,  over  the  fears  and 
scruples  of  Elizabeth.  But  indeed  the  Poet's  work  is  shaped 
and  ordered  from  the  outset  with  a  special  view  to  the  point 
in  hand ;  the  utmost  care  being  taken,  that  in  our  first  im- 
pression of  the  full-grown  Richard  his  thought-swarming  head 
may  have  the  start  of  his  bloody  hand.  Which  order,  by  the 
way,  is  clean  reversed  in  Cibber's  patch-work  preparation 
of  the  play  ;  the  murder  of  the  sainted  Henry  being  there 
foisted  in  at  the  opening,  so  that  admiration  of  Richard's 
intellect  is  forestalled  by  abhorrence  of  his  wickedness.  As- 
suredly it  is  neither  wise  nor  right  thus  to  tamper  with  the 
Poet's  workmanship.  In  the  play  as  he  made  it,  the  opening 
soliloquy,  so  startling  in  its  abruptness,  and  so  crammed  with 
poetry  and  thought,  has  the  effect  of  duly  pre-engaging  our 
minds  with  the  hero's  active,  fertile,  scheming  brain  :  our 
impression  is  of  one  unrelenting  indeed,  and  incapable  of 
fear,  but  who  looks  well  before  he  strikes,  and  who  is  at 
least  as  remarkable  for  his  powers  of  mind  as  for  his  abuse 
of  them.  Thus,  in  the  original  drama,  our  feelings  are  from 
the  first  properly  set  and  toned  to  the  scope  and  measure  of 
the  terrible  as  distinguished  from  the  horrible  ;  the  reverse 
of  which  takes  place  in  the  Cibberian  profanation.  And  the 
organic  law  of  the  work  plainly  requires  that  some  such  in- 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

itiative  be  given  to  the  penetrating  and  imperturbable  sagacity 
which  presides  over  all  the  other  elements  of  Richard's  char- 
acter, and  everywhere  pioneers  to  his  purpose. 

Richard's  irresistible  arts  of  insinuation,  how  he  can  at 
once,  and  almost  in  the  same  breath,  plant  terrors  and 
sweeten  them  away,  is  well  shown  in  the  brief  scene  with 
RatclirT  and  Catesby,  when  he  is  preparing  to  meet  the 
invading  Richmond  : 

Rich.   Some  light-foot  friend  post  to  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  :  — 
Ratcliff,  thyself,  —  or  Catesby ;  where  is  he  ? 

Cate.   Here,  my  good  lord. 

Rich.   Fly  to  the  Duke.  —  [To  Rat.]    Post  thou  to  Salisbury : 
When  thou  comest  thither,—  \To  CATE.]    Dull,  unmindful  villain, 
Why  stay'st  thou  here,  and  go'st  not  to  the  Duke  ? 

Cate.   First,  mighty  liege,  tell  me  your  Highness'  pleasure, 
What  from  your  Grace  I  shall  deliver  to  him. 

Rich.   O,  true,  good  Catesby  :  bid  him  levy  straight 
The  greatest  strength  and  power  he  can  make, 
And  meet  me  suddenly  at  Salisbury. 

Here,  by  his  bland  apology  implied  in  "  O,  true,  good 
Catesby,"  which  drops  so  easily  that  it  seems  to  spring 
fresh  from  his  heart,  he  instantly  charms  out  the  sting  of 
his  former  words  ;  and  we  feel  that  the  man  is  knit  closer  to 
him  than  ever.  Yet  his  kingly  dignity  is  not  a  whit  impaired, 
nay,  is  even  heightened,  by  the  act,  partly  from  his  gracious- 
ness  of  manner,  and  partly  from  his  quick  art  in  putting  the 
apology  under  a  sort  of  transparent  disguise. 

It  should  be  observed  that  Richard,  with  all  his  inborn 
malignity,  still  does  not  properly  hate  those  whom  he  kills  : 
they  stand  between  him  and  his  purpose  ;  and  he  has 
"neither  pity,  love,  nor  fear,"  that  he  should  blench  or  stick 
to  hew  them  out  of  the  way.  His  malice  wantons  in  biting 
taunts   and  caustic  irony ;   he  revels  in  teasing  and  gallin^ 


24  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

others  with  bitter  mocks  and  jerks ;  but  he  is  too  self-repres- 
sive and  too  politic  to  let  his  malice  run  out  in  gratuitous 
cruelties.  A  reign  of  terror  planted  and  upheld  by  a  guil- 
lotine of  malicious  wit  is  as  far  as  his  ambition  and  sagacity 
will  permit  him  to  go  in  that  direction.  For  Shakespeare 
could  never  have  conceived  of  the  English  people  as  tolerat- 
ing even  for  a  day  a  reign  of  terror  founded  on  a  guillo- 
tine of  steel.  And  Richard  is  prudent  enough  to  restrain 
his  innate  virulence  from  attempting  so  suicidal  a  course  as 
that.  But  he  has  at  the  same  time  a  certain  redundant,  im- 
pulsive, restless  activity  of  nature,  so  that  he  cannot  hold 
still ;  and  as  his  thought  seizes  with  amazing  quickness  and 
sureness  where  and  when  and  how  to  cut,  so  he  is  equally 
sudden  and  sure  of  hand.  It  is  as  if  such  an  excess  of  life 
and  energy  had  been  rammed  into  his  little  body  as  to  strain 
and  bulge  it  out  of  shape. 

Alleged  Faults  of  the  Delineation. 

I  have  observed  that  Richard  is  a  villain  with  full  con- 
sciousness ;  and  that,  instead  of  endeavouring  in  any  way  to 
hide  from  his  crimes,  he  rather  fondles  and  caresses  them 
as  food  of  intellectual  pride.  And  such  is  Coleridge's  view. 
"  Pride  of  intellect,"  says  he,  "is  the  characteristic  of  Rich- 
ard carried  to  the  extent  of  even  boasting  to  his  own  mind 
of  his  villainy.  Shakespeare  here  develops,  in  a  tone  of  sub- 
lime morality,  the  dreadful  consequences  of  placing  the  moral 
in  subordination  to  the  mere  intellectual  being."  In  this  re- 
spect, Richard  transcends  the  Poet's  other  crime  heroes,  Iago 
and  Edmund,  who,  with  all  their  steeping  in  hell-venom,  are 
still  unable  to  look  their  hellish  purposes  steadily  in  the  face, 
and  seek  refuge  in  certain  imaginary  wrongs  which  it  is  the 


INTRODUCTION.  25 

part  of  manhood  to  revenge  either  on  particular  persons  or 
on  society  at  large. 

This  feature  of  Richard  transpires  audibly,  and  with  not 
a  little  of  special  emphasis,  in  his  soliloquies,  both  those  in 
the  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  the  Sixth,  and  also  those  m 
the  present  play.  It  has  been  questioned,  and  is  indeed 
fairly  questionable,  whether  the  delineation  in  this  point 
does  not  overpass  the  natural  limits  of  human  wickedness. 
One  of  the  authors  of  Guesses  at  Truth  thinks  the  Poet 
"  has  somewhat  exaggerated  the  diabolical  element"  in  the 
speeches  in  question.  "  If,"  says  he,  "we  compare  the  way 
in  which  Iago's  plot  is  first  sown,  and  springs  up,  and  grad- 
ually grows  and  ripens  in  his  brain,  with  Richard's  down- 
right enunciation  of  his  projected  series  of  crimes  from  the 
first,  we  may  discern  the  contrast  between  the  youth  and 
the  mature  manhood  of  the  mightiest  intellect  that  ever 
lived  upon  Earth."  Again,  after  noting  how  Richard's  sense 
of  personal  deformity  acts  as  an  irritant  of  his  innate  malice, 
the  writer  proceeds  thus  :  "  I  cannot  but  think  that  Shake- 
speare would  have  made  a  somewhat  different  use  even  of 
this  motive,  if  he  had  rewritten  the  play  in  the  maturity  of 
his  intellect.  Would  not  Richard  then,  like  Edmund  and 
Iago,  have  palliated  and  excused  his  crimes  to  himself,  and 
sophisticated  and  played  tricks  with  his  conscience?"  And 
the  writer  affirms  withal,  that  "it  is  as  contrary  to  nature 
for  a  man  to  anatomize  his  heart  and  soul  thus,  as  it  would 
be  to  make  him  dissect  his  own  body." 

Metaphors  are  rather  ticklish  things  to  reason  with ;  and 
the  sentence  last  quoted  goes  somewhat  to  discredit  the 
writer's  criticism  in  certain  points  which  I  am  apt  to  think 
well  taken.  For  in  fact  men  often  do  practise  a  degree  of 
self-anatomy  in  their  mental  and  moral  parts,  sucli  as  were 


26  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

obviously  impossible  as  regards  their  bodily  structure.  Now 
Richard  as  drawn  by  the  Poet  in  action  no  less  than  in 
speech  has  a  dare-devil  intellectuality,  in  the  strength  of 
which,  for  aught  I  can  see,  he  might  inspect  and  scrutinize 
himself  as  minutely  and  as  boldly  as  he  would  another  person, 
or  as  another  person  would  him.  And  why  might  he  not, 
from  the  same  cause,  grow  and  harden  into  a  habit  of  facing 
his  blackest  purposes  as  unflinchingly  as  he  does  his  unsightly 
person,  and  even  of  taking  pleasure  in  over-painting  their 
wickedness  to  himself,  in  order  at  once  to  stimulate  and  to 
gratify  his  lust  of  the  brain?  And  does  not  his  most  dis- 
tinctive feature,  as  compared  with  Iago  and  Edmund,  stand 
mainly  in  this,  that  intellectual  pride  is  in  a  more  exclusive 
manner  the  constituent  of  his  character?  The  critic,  be  it 
observed,  specially  faults  certain  of  Richard's  soliloquies,  as 
if  there  were  something  exceptionally  wrong  in  these  ;  and 
the  question  with  me  is,  whether  these  are  not  in  perfect 
keeping  with  his  character  as  transpiring  in  action  through- 
out the  play.  For  it  is  manifest  that,  in  what  he  does,  no 
less  than  in  what  he  there  says,  his  hypocrisy  is  without  the 
least  shade  of  self-delusion.  The  most  constant,  the  most 
versatile,  the  most  perfect  of  actors,  he  is  never  a  whit  taken 
in  by  his  own  acting :  he  has,  in  consummation,  the  art  to 
conceal  his  art  from  others ;  and  because  this  is  what  he 
chiefly  glories  in,  therefore  he  takes  care  that  it  may  not  be- 
come in  any  degree  a  secret  to  himself.  Moral  obliquity  so 
played  as  to  pass  for  moral  rectitude  is  to  him  the  test  and 
measure  of  intellectual  strength  and  dexterity ;  for  which 
cause  he  delights  not  only  to  practise  it,  but  also  to  contem- 
plate himself  while  practising  it,  and  even  while  designing 
it.  And  herein  he  differs  from  all  real-life  actors,  where  it 
is  hardly  possible  but  that  hypocrisy  and  self-deceit  should 


INTRODUCTION.  2J 

slide  into  each  other :  hence  it  is  that  hypocrites  are  so  apt 
to  end  by  turning  fanatics,  and  vice  versa,  as  common  ob- 
servation testifies. 

But  this  is  making  Richard  out  an  improbable  character, 
—  a  character  running  to  a  height  qf  guilt  where  no  man 
could  sustain  himself  in  being?  Perhaps  so.  And  my  pur- 
pose is  not  so  much  to  vindicate  the  soliloquies  as  to  suggest 
whether  the  charge  raised  from  them  will  not  hold  equally 
against  the  whole  delineation.  If  I  am  right  in  thinking 
that  the  soliloquies  strictly  cohere  with  his  general  action, 
it  follows  that  both  are  in  fault,  or  neither :  so  that,  if  the 
Poet  be  there  in  error,  he  is  at  least  consistently  so.  In- 
stead, therefore,  of  rejecting  the  forecited  criticism,  I  should 
rather  incline  to  extend  it  over  the  substance  and  body  of 
the  play  ;  in  the  very  conception  of  which  we  seem  to  have 
somewhat  of  the  mistake,  so  incident  to  youthful  genius,  of 
seeking  for  excellence  rather  by  transcending  Nature  than 
by  closing  with  her  heartily,  and  going  smoothly  along  with 
her. 

Richard's  Abnormal  Individuality. 

It  is  plain  that  such  a  man  as  Richard  must  either  cease 
to  be  himself,  or  else  must  be  himself  alone.  Isolation,  vir- 
tual or  actual,  is  his  vital  air,  the  breath,  the  necessary  con- 
dition of  his  life.  One  of  his  character,  without  his  position, 
would  have  to  find  solitude ;  Richard,  by  his  position,  has 
the  alternative  of  creating  it :  the  former  must  be  where 
none  others  are  ;  the  latter,  where  all  others  are  in  effect  as 
if  they  were  not.  For  society  is  in  its  nature  a  complexion 
of  mutualities,  and  every  rule  pertaining  to  it  works  both 
ways  :  it  is  a  partnership  of  individualities,  some  of  them  sub- 
ordinate indeed,  and  some  superior ;  but  yet  in  such  sort  as 


28  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

to  presuppose  a  net-work  of  ties  running  and  recurring  from 
each  to  each ;  so  that  no  one  can  urge  a  right  without  infer- 
ring a  duty,  nor  claim  a  bond  without  owning  himself  bound. 
But  Richard's  individuality  can  abide  no  partner,  either  as 
equal,  or  as  second,  or  in  any  other  degree.  There  is  no 
sharing  any  thing  with  him,  in  however  unequal  portions ; 
no  acting  with  him,  as  original,  self-moving  agents,  but  only 
from  him,  as  the  objects  and  passive  recipients  of  his  activity. 
Such  is  the  form  and  scope  of  his  individuality,  that  other 
men's  cannot  stand  in  subordination  to  it,  but  must  either 
crush  it,  or  fly  from  it,  or  be  absorbed  into  it ;  and  the 
moment  any  one  goes  to  acting  otherwise  than  as  a  limb  of 
his  person,  or  an  organ  of  his  will,  there  is  a  virtual  declara- 
tion of  war  between  them,  and  the  issue  must  hang  on  a  trial 
of  strength  or  of  stratagem. 

Hence  there  is,  properly  speaking,  no  interaction  between 
Richard  and  the  other  persons  of  the  drama.  He  is  the  all- 
in-all  of  the  scene.  And  herein  is  this  play  chiefly  distin- 
guished from  the  others,  and  certainly,  as  a  work  of  art,  not 
distinguished  for  the  better,  that  the  entire  action,  in  all  its 
parts  and  stages,  so  far  at  least  as  it  has  any  human  origin 
and  purpose,  both  springs  from  the  hero  as  its  source,  and 
determines  in  him  as  its  end.  So  that  the  drama  is  not  so 
much  a  composition  of  co-operative  characters,  mutually  de- 
veloping and  developed,  as  the  prolonged  yet  hurried  out- 
come of  a  single  character,  to  which  the  other  persons  serve 
but  as  exponents  and  conductors ;  as  if  he  were  a  volume  of 
electricity  disclosing  himself  by  means  of  others,  and  quench- 
ing their  active  powers  in  the  very  process  of  doing  so.  The 
most  considerable  exception  to  this  is  Queen  Margaret, 
whose  individuality  shoulders  itself  in  face  to  face  with  Rich- 
ard's;, her   passionate    impulse    wrestling    evenly   with   his 


INTRODUCTION.  29 

deliberate  purpose,  and  her  ferocious  temper  being  provoked 
to  larger  and  hotter  eruptions  by  all  attempts  at  restraint  or 
intimidation.  This,  to  be  sure,  is  partly  because  she  can  do 
nothing ;  while  at  the  same  time  her  tongue  is  all  the  more 
eager  and  powerful  to  blast,  forasmuch  as  she  has  no  hands 
to  strike. 

The  preceding  remarks  may  go  far  to  explain  the  great 
and  lasting  popularity  of  this  play  on  the  stage.  There 
being  no  one  to  share  with  the  hero  in  the  action  and  inter- 
est of  the  piece,  this  renders  it  all  the  better  for  theatrical 
starring ;  for  which  cause  most  of  the  great  actors  have  nat- 
urally been  fond  of  appearing  in  it,  and  play-goers  of  seeing 
them  in  it.  Besides,  the  hero,  as  before  remarked,  is  himself 
essentially  an  actor,  though  an  actor  jf  many  parts,  sometimes 
acting  one  of  them  after  another,  and  sometimes  several  of 
them  together  :  and  the  fact  that  his  character  is  much,  of  it 
assumed,  and  carried  through  as  a  matter  of  art,  probably 
makes  it  somewhat  easier  for  another  to  assume.  At  all 
events,  the  difficulty,  one  would  suppose,  must  be  much  less 
in  proportion  to  the  stage-effect  than  in  reproducing  the  deep 
tragfc  passions  of  Lear  and  Othello,  as  these  burst  up  from 
the  original  founts  of  nature. 

"Working's  of  his  Conscience. 

f 
Richard,  however,  is  not  all  hypocrite  :  his  courage  and 
his  self-control  at  least  are  genuine  ;  nor  is  there  any  thing 
false  or  counterfeit  in  his  acting  of  these.  And  his  strength 
of  will  is  exerted  even  more  in  repressing  his  own  nature 
than  in  oppressing  others.  Here  it  is,  perhaps,  that  we 
have  the  most  admirable  feature  of  the  delineation.  Such 
a  vigour  of  self-command,  the  central  force  of  all  great  char- 


30  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

acters,  seldom  fails  to  captivate  the  judgment,  or  to  inspire 
something  like  respect ;  and,  when  carried  to  such  a  height 
as  in  Richard,  it  naturally  touches  common  people  with 
wonder  and  awe,  as  being  wellnigh  superhuman.  In  this 
respect,  he  strongly  resembles  Lady  Macbeth,  that  he  does 
absolute  violence  to  his  nature  in  outwrestling  the  powers 
of  conscience.  In  his  waking  moments,  he  never  betrays, 
except  in  one  instance,  any  sense  of  guilt,  any  pangs  of 
remorse ;  insomuch  that  he  seems  to  have  a  hole  in  his 
head,  where  the  moral  faculties  ought  to  be.  But  such  a 
hole  can  nowise  stand  with  judgment  and  true  sagacity, 
which  Richard  certainly  has  in  a  high  degree.  And  it  is 
very  much  to  the  point  that,  as  in  Lady  Macbeth,  his 
strength  of  will  is  evidently  overstrained  in  keeping  down 
the  insurgent  moral  forces  of  his  being.  But  this  part  of 
his  nature  asserts  itself  in  his  sleep,  when  his  powers  of  self- 
repression  are  suspended  :  then  his  involuntary  forces  rise 
in  insurrection  against  the  despotism  of  his  voluntary.  In 
his  speech  to  the  army  near  the  close,  he  describes  con- 
science as  "  a  word  that  cowards  use,  devised  at  first  to  keep 
the  strong  in  awe  "  ;  and  this  well  shows  how  hard  he  strives 
to  hide  from  others,  and  even  from  himself,  the  workings  of 
that  deity  in  his  breast :  but  the  horrid  dreams  which  infest 
his  pillow  and  plague  his  slumbers,  and  which  are  disclosed 
to  us  by  Lady  Anrfe,  are  a  conclusive  record  of  the  torturing 
thoughts  that  have  long  been  rending  and  harrowing  his 
inner  man  in  his  active  career,  and  of  the  extreme  violence 
his  nature  has  suffered  from  the  tyranny  of  will  in  repressing 
all  outward  signs  of  the  work  going  on  within.  That  his 
conscience  in  sleep  should  thus  rouse  itself  and  act  the  fury 
in  his  soul,  to  avenge  the  wrongs  of  his  terrible  self-despotism 
when  awake,  —  this  it  is  that,  more  than  any  thing  else,  vin- 


INTRODUCTION.  3 1 

dicates  his  partnership  in  humanity,  and  keeps  him  within 
the  circle  of  our  human  sympathies. 

Richard's  inexorable  tenacity  of  purpose  and  his  overbear- 
ing self-mastery  have  their  strongest  display  in  the  catastro- 
phe. He  cannot  indeed  prolong  his  life  ;  but  he  makes  his 
death  serve  in  the  highest  degree  the  end  for  which  he  has 
lived  ;  dying  in  a  perfect  transport  of  heroism,  insomuch 
that  we  may  truly  say,  "  nothing  in  his  life  became  him  like 
the  leaving  it."  Nay,  he  may  even  be  said  to  compel  his 
own  death,  when  a  higher  power  than  man's  has  cut  off 
all  other  means  of  honour  and.  triumph.  Herein,  too,  the 
Poet  followed  the  history  :  but  in  the  prerogatives  of  his  art 
he  found  out  a  way,  which  history  knows  not  of,  to  satisfy 
the  moral  feelings ;  representing  the  hero  as  in  Hands  that 
can  well  afford  to  let  him  defy  all  the  powers  of  human 
avengement.  Inaccessible  to  earthly  strokes,  or  accessible 
to  them  only  in  a  way  that  adds  to  his  earthly  honour,  yet 
this  dreadful  impunity  is  recompensed  in  the  agonies  of  an 
embosomed  hell ;  and  our  moral  nature  reaps  a  stern  satis- 
faction in  the  retributions  which  are  rendered  vocal  and 
articulate  by  the  ghosts  that  are  made  to  haunt  his  sleeping 
moments.  For  even  so  the  Almighty  sometimes  chooses, 
apparently,  to  vindicate  His  law  by  taking  the  punishment 
directly  and  exclusively  into  His  own  hands.  And,  surely, 
His  vengeance  is  never  so  awful  as  when  subordinate  minis- 
tries are  thus  dispensed  with. 

I  here  refer,  of  course,  to  what  takes  place  the  night 
before  the  battle  of  Bosworth-field.  The  matter  was  evi- 
dently suggested  by  the  history,  which  gives  it  thus  :  "  The 
fame  went,  that  he  had  the  same  night  a  terrible  dream  ; 
for  it  seemed  to  him,  being  asleep,  that  he  did  see  divers 
images  like  terrible  devils,  which  pulled  and  haled  him,  not 


2,2  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

suffering  him  to  take  any  rest.  The  which  strange  vision 
not  so  suddenly  strake  his  heart  with  fear,  but  it  stuffed  his 
head  with  many  busy  and  dreadful  imaginations."  The 
effect  of  this  vision  is  best  told  by  Richard  himself,  when 
he  starts  from  his  couch  in  an  ecstasy  of  fright : 

Give  me  another  horse  !    bind  up  my  wounds  !  — 
Have  mercy,  Jesu  !  —  Soft  !   I  did  but  dream. 

0  coward  conscience,  how  dost  thou  afflict  me !  — 
The  lights  burn  blue.     It  is  now  dead  midnight. 
Cold  fearful  drops  stand  on  my  trembling  flesh. 
My  conscience  hath  a  thousand  several  tongues, 
And  every  tongue  brings  in  a  several  tale, 

And  every  tale  condemns  me  for  a  villain. 

1  shall  despair.     There  is  no  creature  loves  me  ; 
And,  if  I  die,  no  soul  shall  pity  me. 

Rat.    \Entering^\    My  lord,  — 

Rich.  Who's  there  ? 

Rat.   My  lord,  'tis  I.     The  early  village-cock 
Hath  twice  done  salutation  to  the  morn  ; 
Your  friends  are  up,  and  buckle  on  their  armour. 

Rich.   O  Ratcliff,  I  have  dream'd  a  fearful  dream ! 
What  thinkest  thou,  will  our  friends  prove  all  true  ? 

Rat.   No  doubt,  my  lord. 

Rich.  O  Ratcliff,  I  fear,  I  fear ! 

Methought  the  souls  of  all  that  I  had  murder'd 
Came  to  my  tent  ;  and  every  one  did  threat 
To-morrow's  vengeance  on  the  head  of  Richard. 

Rat.   Nay,  good  my  lord,  be  not  afraid  of  shadows. 

Rich.   By  the  apostle  Paul,  shadows  to-night 
Have  struck  more  terror  to  the  heart  of  Richard 
Than  can  the  substance  of  ten  thousand  soldiers 
Armed  in  proof  and  led  by  shallow  Richmond. 

Thus  the  still  small  voice,  which  Richard  so  tyrannically 
strangles  while  consciousness  is  vigilant,  takes  its  turn  of 
tyranny  with  him 'when  his  other  forces  are  in  abeyance. 
And  I  suppose  his  intense,  feverish  activity  of  mind  and 
body  when  awake  springs  in  part  from  the  gnawings  of  the 


INTRODUCTION.  33 

worm :  he  endeavours,  or  rather  is  impelled,  to  stifle  or  lose 
the  sense  of  guilt  in  a  high-pressure  stress  and  excitement 
of  thought  and  work.  For  so  the  smothered  pangs  of  re- 
morse often  act  as  potent  stimulants  or  irritants  of  the  intel- 
lect and  will ;  the  hell  within  burning  the  fiercer  for  being 
repressed,  and  so  heating  the  brain  into  restless,  convulsive 
activity.  In  this  way,  the  very  conscience  of  crime  may 
have  the  effect  of  plunging  the  subject  into  further  crimes : 
Remorse 

Works  in  his  guilty  hopes  and  selfish  fears, 
And,  while  she  scares  him,  goads  him  to  his  fate. 

And  it  is  through  the  secret  working  of  this  power  that 
Henry's  prophecy  touching  Richmond,  and  also  the  fortune- 
teller's prediction  which  made  the  hero  start  on  seeing  the 
castle  at  Exeter,  and  hearing  it  called  Rougemont,  stick  so 
fast  in  his  memory,  and  sit  so  heavy  on  his  soul  through 
the  closing  struggle.  As  Gervinus  says,  "he  who  in  his 
realistic  free-thinking  was  fain  to  deny  all  higher  powers, 
and  by  his  hypocrisy  to  deceive  even  Heaven  itself,  suc- 
cumbs at  last  to  their  inevitable  stroke." 

Character  of-  Margaret. 

The  introduction  of  Margaret  in  this  play  has  no  formal 
warrant  in  history.  After  the  battle  of  Tewksbury,  May, 
14 7 1,  she  was  confined  in  the  Tower  till  1475,  when,  being 
ransomed  by  her  father,  she  went  into  France,  and  died 
there  in  1482.  So  that  the  part  she  takes  in  these  scenes 
is,  throughout,  a  dramatic  fiction.  And  a  very  judicious 
piece  of  fiction  it  is  too.  Nor  is  it  without  a  basis  of  truth  ; 
for,  though  absent  in  person,  she  was  notwithstanding  pres- 
ent in  spirit,  and  in  the  memory  of  her  voice,  which  seemed 


34  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

to  be  still  ringing  in  the  ears  of  both  friends  and  foes.  Her 
character,  too,  like  Richard's,  has  its  growth  and  shaping  in 
the  preceding  plays  of  King  He  my  the  Sixth  ;  which  makes 
it  needful  to  revert  to  certain  matters  there  presented. 

Henry  the  Fifth  had  made  great  conquests  in  France,  and 
died  in  1422,  leaving  the  crown  to  his  infant  son,  afterwards 
Henry  the  Sixth,  who  at  the  age  of  twenty-two  was  married 
to  Margaret  of  Anjou.  During  his  nonage,  what  with  the 
rising  spirit  of  France,  and  what  with  the  fierce  feuds  that 
sprang  up  amongst  the  English  leaders,  the  provinces  in 
France  were  recovered  one  after  another  to  the  French 
crown.  The  English  people  were  vastly  proud  of  those 
conquests,  and  were  stung  almost  to  madness  at  the  loss 
of  them.  Hence  grew  the  long  series  of  civil  wars  known 
as  "the  Wars. of  the  Roses."  The  great  and  fiery  spirit  of 
Margaret  was  present  and  active  all  through  that  conflict. 
The  irritations  caused  by  the  losses  in  France  are  repre- 
sented by  Shakespeare  as  so  many  eggs  of  discord  in  the 
nest  of  English  life,  and  Margaret  as  the  hot-breasted  fury 
that  hatched  them  into  effect ;  her  haughty,  vindictive  tem- 
per, her  indomitable  energy,  and  fire-spouting  tongue  fitting 
her  to  be,  as  indeed  she  was,  a  constant  provoker  and  stirrer- 
up  of  hatreds  and  strifes. 

Much  has  been  said  by  one  critic  and  another  about  the 
Poet's  Lancastrian  prejudices  as  manifested  in  this  series  of 
plays.  One  may  well  be  curious  to  know  whether  those  pre- 
judices are  to  be  held  responsible  for  the  portrait  he  gives  of 
Margaret,  wherein  we  have,  so  to  speak,  an  abbreviature  and 
compendium  of  nearly  all  the  worst  vices  of  her  time.  The 
character,  however  lifelike  and  striking*'in  its  effect,  is  coloured 
much  beyond  what  sober  history  warrants  :  though  some  of 
the  main  features  are  not  without  a  basis  of  fact,  still  the  com- 


INTRODUCTION.  35 

position  and  expression  as  a  whole  has  hardly  enough  of  his- 
torical truth  to  render  it  a  caricature.  A  bold,  ferocious,  and 
tempestuous  woman,  void  alike  of  delicacy,  of  dignity,  and 
of  discretion,  all  the  bad  passions  out  of  which  might  be 
engendered  the  madness  of  civil  war  seem  to  flock  and  hover 
about  her  footsteps.  Her  speech  and  action,  however,  impart 
a  wonderful  vigour  and  lustihood  to  the  scenes  wherein  she 
moves  ;  and  perhaps  it  was  only  by  exaggerating  her,  or  some 
other  person,  into  a  sort  of  representative  character,  that  the 
springs  and  processes  of  that  long  national  bear-fight  could  be 
developed  in  a  poetical  or  dramatic  form.  Her  penetrating 
intellect  and  unrestrainable  volubility  discourse  forth  the  mo- 
tives and  principles  of  the  combantant  factions  ;  while  in  her 
remorseless  impiety  and  revengeful  ferocity  is  impersonated, 
as  it  were,  the  very  genius  and  spirit  of  the  terrible  conflict. 
So  that  we  may  regard  her  as,  in  some  sort,  an  ideal  con- 
centration of  that  murderous  ecstasy  which  seized  upon  the 
nation.  And  it  should  be  observed  withal,  that  popular 
tradition,  sprung  from  the  reports  of  her  enemies,  and  cher- 
ished by  patriotic  feeling,  had  greatly  overdrawn  the  wicked- 
ness of  Margaret,  to  the  end,  apparently,  that  it  might  have 
something  foreign  whereon  to  father  the  evils  resulting  from 
her  husband's  weakness  and  the  moral  distemper  of  the 
times. 

The  dramatic  character  of  Margaret,  whether  as  transpir- 
ing at  Court  or  in  the  field,  is  sustained  at  the  same  high 
pitch  through  all  the  plays  wherein  she  figures.  Afflictions 
do  but  open  in  her  breast  new  founts  of  imbitterment :  her 
speech  is  ever  teeming  with  the  sharp  answer  that  engenders 
wrath ;  and  out  of  every  wound  issues  the  virulence  that  is 
sure  to  provoke  another  blow.  If  any  one  thinks  that  her 
fcrocity  is  strained  up  to  a  pitch  incompatible  with  her  sex, 


2)6  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

and  unnecessary  for  the  occasion  ;  perhaps  it  will  be  deemed 
a  sufficient  answer,  that  the  spirit  of  such  a  war  could  scarce 
be  dramatically  conveyed  without  the  presence  of  a  fury, 
and  that  the  Furies  have  always  been  represented  as  females. 

I  will  add  a  few  words  touching  the  reason  which  seems 
to  have  justified  the  Poet  in  carrying  on  the  part  of  Mar- 
garet, against  the  literal  truth  of  history,  into  the  scenes  of 
King  Richard  the  Third. 

Now  it  is  considerable  that  in  the  earlier  plays  Richard 
is  made  several  years  older  than  he  really  was.  Old  enough, 
however,  he  was  in  fact,  to  have  the  spirit  of  the  times  thor- 
oughly transfused  into  his  character.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  pungent  seasoning  sprinkled  in  here  and  there  from 
the  bad  heart  and  busy  brain  of  the  precocious  Richard  is  a 
material  addition  to  those  plays  in  an  artistic  point  of  view. 
But  there  was,  I  think,  good  cause  in  the  substantial  truth 
of  things  why  Richard  should  be  there  just  as  he  is.  In 
point  of  moral  history,  it  was  but  right  to  forecast  the  style 
of  character  which  the  proceedings  then  on  foot  were  likely 
to  generate  and  hand  down  to  after-times.  And  as  in  the 
earlier  plays  Richard  supplies  such  a  forecast,  so  in  the  later 
play  Margaret  supplies  a  corresponding  retrospect.  She  was 
continued  on  the  scene,  to  the  end,  apparently,  that  the  par- 
ties might  have  a  terrible  present  remembrancer  of  their 
former  deeds  ;  just  as  the  manhood  of  Richard  had  been 
anticipated  for  the  purpose,  as  would  seem,  of  forecasting  the 
final  issues  from  the  earlier  stages  of  that  multitudinous  trag- 
edy. So  that  there  appears  to  be  some  reason  in  the  ways 
of  Providence,  as  well  as  in  the  laws  of  Art,  why  Margaret 
should  still  be  kept  in  presence,  as  the  fitting  counterpart 
of  that  terrible  man,. —  so  merry-hearted,  subtle-witted,  and 
bloody-handed,  whose  mental  efficacy  turns  perjury,  murder, 


INTRODUCTION.  37 

and  what  is  worse,  if  aught  worse  there  be,  to  poetry,  —  as 
he  grows  on  from  youth  to  manhood,  and  from  manhood  to 
his  end,  at  once  the  offspring  and  the  avenger  of  civil 
butchery. 

As  for  the  part  which  Margaret  takes  in  the  scenes  of  King 
Richard  the  Third,  I  have  but  little  to  add  respecting  it. 
Her  condition  is  vastly  different  indeed  from  what  it  was  in 
the  earlier  plays,  but  her  character  remains  the  same.  She 
is  here  stripped  of  arms  and  instruments,  so  that  'her  thoughts 
can  no  longer  work  out  in  acts.  But,  for  this  very  cause,  her 
Amazonian  energies  concentrate  themselves  so  much  the 
more  in  her  speech ;  and  her  eloquence,  while  retaining  all 
its  strength  and  fluency,  burns  the  deeper,  forasmuch  as  it  is 
the  only  organ  of  her  mind  that  she  has  left.  In  brief,  she 
is  still  the  same  high-grown,  wide-branching  tree,  now  ren- 
dered leafless  indeed,  and  therefore  all  the  fitter  for  the 
blasts  of  heaven  to  howl  and  whistle  through  !  Long  suffer- 
ing has  deepened  her  fierceness  into  sublimity.  At  once 
vindictive  and  broken-hearted,  her  part  runs  into  a  most 
impressive  blending  of  the  terrible  and  the  pathetic.  Wal- 
pole,  in  his  Historic  Doubts,  remarks  that  in  this  play  the 
Poet  "  seems  to  deduce  the  woes  of  the  House  of  York  from 
the  curses  which  Queen  Margaret  had  vented  against  them." 
Might  it  not  as  well  be  said  that  her  woes  are  deduced  from 
the  curse  formerly  laid  upon  her  by  the  Duke  of  York?  I 
can  perceive  no  deduction  in  either  case  :  each  seems  but 
to  have  a  foresight  of  future  woe'  to  the  other,  as  the  proper 
consequence  of  past  or  present  crimes.  The  truth  is,  Mar- 
garet's curses  do  but  proclaim  those  moral  retributions  of 
which  God  is  the  author,  and  Nature  His  minister ;  and  per- 
haps the  only  way  her  former  character  could  be  carried  on 
into  these  scenes  was  by  making  her  seek  indemnity  for  her 


3 8  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

woes  in  ringing  changes  upon  the  woes  of  others.  She  is  a 
sort  of  wailing  or  ululating  chorus  to  the  thick-thronging 
butcheries  and  agonies  that  wind  their  course  through  the 
play.  A  great,  brave,  fearful  woman  indeed,  made  sacred 
by  all  the  anguishes  that  a  wife  and  a  mother  can  know  ! 

Minor  Characters. 

Of  the  other  characters  in  this  play  probably  little  need  be 
said.  —  Hastings  and  Buckingham  neither  get  nor  deserve 
any  pity  from  us.  They  have  done  all  they  could  to  nurse 
and  prepare  the  human  tiger  that  finally  hunts  them  to  death. 
Their  thorough  steeping  in  the  wickedness  of  the  times,  and 
their  reckless  participation,  either  by  act  or  by  sympathy  in 
Richard's  slaughters,  mark  them  out  as  worthy  victims  when, 
from  motives  no  better  than  he  is  actuated  by,  they  under- 
take to  block  the  course  which  they  have  themselves  exulted 
to  see  that  living  roll  of  hell-fire  pursue. 

Stanley  gauges  the  hero  rightly  from  the  first,  penetrates 
his  closest  designs,  and  then  adroitly  fathers  the  results  of 
his  own  insight  upon  some  current  superstition  of  omens  or 
dreams.  Without  sharing  in  any  of  Richard's  crimes  or 
defiling  his  hands  at  all  with  blood,  he  turns  Richard's 
weapons  against  him,  and  fairly  beats  him  at  his  own  game. 
His  relationship  to  Richmond  naturally  marks  him  out  for 
suspicion  :  he  forecasts  this  from  afar,  and  with  a  kind  of 
honest  knavery  so  shapes  his  course  that  he  can  easily  parry 
or  dodge  or  quiet  the  suspicion  when  it  comes.  With  clean 
purposes,  he  dissembles  them  as  completely  as  Richard  does 
his  foul  ones.  He  is  in  secret  correspondence  with  Rich- 
mond all  along ;  yet  carries  it  so,  that  no  wind  •  thereof  gets 
abroad.     His  art  takes   on  the   garb   of  perfect  frankness, 


INTRODUCTION.  39 

candour,  and  simplicity,  which  is  art  indeed.  He  counsels 
Dorset  to  speed  his  flight  to  Richmond,  and  gives  him  let- 
ters ;  then  goes  straight  to  Richard,  and  tells  him  Dorset 
has  fled.  He  is  also  the  first  to  inform  Richard  that  "  Rich- 
mond is  on  the  seas,"  and  that  "  he  makes  for  England,  here 
to  claim  the  crown."  By  this  timely  speaking  of  what  is 
true,  but  what  he  would  naturally  be  least  expected  to  dis- 
close, he  makes  a  passage  for  the  full-grown  deceit  which 
he  is  presently  forced  to  use.  But  he  justly  holds  it  a  work 
of  honesty  to  deceive  such  an  arch-deceiver  in  such  a  cause. 
And  his  patriotism  and  rectitude  of  purpose  are  amply 
shown  in  that,  when  the  crisis  comes,  he  stakes  what  is 
dearest  in  the  world  to  him,  for  the  deliverance  of  his  coun- 
try from  the  butchering  tyrant.  This  was  a  good  beginning 
for  the  noble  and  illustrious  House  of  Stanley,  which  has,  I 
believe,  in  all  ages  since  stood  true  alike  to  loyalty  and 
liberty. 

The  parts  of  Lady  Anne,  of  Elizabeth,  the  Duchess  of 
York,  and  the  two  young  Princes,  are  skilfully  managed  so 
as  to  diversify  and  relieve  what  would  else  be  a  prolonged 
monotony  of  atrocious  wickedness  and  intellectual  circus- 
riding.  I  say  relieve,  for  the  change  from  the  society  of 
such  consummate  hypocrisies  and  villainies  to  that  of  heart- 
rending sorrow  is  a  relief :  nay,  it  is  almost  a  positive  happi- 
ness thus  to  escape  now  and  then  from  the  doers  of  wrong, 
and  breathe  awhile  with  the  sufferers  of  wrong. 

Lady  Anne's  seeming  levity  in  yielding  to  the  serpent 
flatteries  of  the  wooing  homicide  is  readily  forgiven  in  the 
sore  burden  of  grief  which  it  entails  upon  her,  in  her  subdued 
gentleness  to  other  destined  victims,  and  in  the  sad  resigna- 
tion with  which  she  forecasts  the  bitterness  of  her  brief  future. 


40  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

Her  mature  is  felt  to  be  all  too  soft  to  stand  against  the  crafty 
and  merciless  tormentor  into  whose  hand  she  has  given 
herself;  and  she  seems 

Like  a  poor  bird  entangled  in  a  snare, 

Whose  heart  still  flutters,  though  her  wings  forbear 

To  stir  in  useless  struggle. 

Elizabeth  is  prudent,  motherly,  and  pitiful,  withal  by  no 
means  lacking  in  strength  and  spirit.  Stanley,  Margaret, 
and  the  Duchess  excepted,  she  is  the  only  person  in  the 
play  who  reads  correctly  the  hero's  character.  From  the 
slaughter  of  her  kindred  at  Pomfret,  her  instinctive  feminine 
sagacity  gathers  at  once  the  whole  scheme  of  what  is  coming, 
and  anticipates  the  utter  ruin  of  her  House.  But  she  is  so 
benetted  round  with  intriguing  arts,  and,  what  is  still  worse, 
so  beset  with  the  friendly  assurances  of  minds  less  penetrat- 
ing than  hers,  that  all  her  defences  prove  of  no  avail  in  the 
chief  point.  It  was  both  wise  and  kind  in  the  Poet  to 
represent  her  voice  as  so  untuned  to  the  language  of  im- 
precation, that  she  has  to  call  on  one  so  eloquent  in  curses 
as  Margaret  to  do  her  cursing  for  her.  In  the  scene  where 
Richard  wooes  so  persistently  for  her  daughter's  hand,  it 
appears  something  uncertain  whether  she  is  really  beguiled 
and  won  by  his  wizard  rhetoric,  or  whether  she  only  tem- 
porizes, and  feigns  a  reluctant  acquiescence,  and  so  at  last 
fairly  outwits  him.  Most  critics,  I  believe,  have  taken  the 
former  view ;  but  I  am  far  from  seeing  it  so  :  for  her  daugh- 
ter's hand  is  firmly  pledged  to  Richmond  already,  and  she 
is  in  the  whole  secret  of  the  plot  for  seating  him  on  the 
throne.  So  I  take  it  as  an  instance  of  that  profound  yet 
innocent  and  almost  unconscious  guile  which  women  are 
apt  to  use  in  defence  of  those  they  love,  and  which  so  often 


INTRODUCTION.  41 

proves   an   overmatch   for   all   the   resources    of  deliberate 
craft. 

The  two  Princes  are  charmingly  discriminated,  and  the 
delineation  of  them,  though  compressed  into  a  few  brief 
speeches,  is  an  exquisite  piece  of  work.  The  elder  is  in- 
quisitive, thoughtful,  cautious  in  his  words,  hardly  knowing 
whether  to  fear  his  uncle  or  not,  and,  with  a  fine  instinctive 
tact,  veiling  his  doubt  under  a  pregnant  equivoque.  The 
younger  is  pert,  precocious,  and  clever,  and  prattles  out  his 
keen  childish  wit,  in  perfect  freedom  from  apprehension, 
and  quite  innocent  of  the  stings  it  carries.  Their  guileless 
intelligence  and  sweet  trustfulness  of  disposition  make  a  cap- 
ital foil  to  the  Satanic  subtlety  and  virulent  intellectuality  of 
Richard. 

General  Remarks. 

This  drama  has,  in  my  judgment,  many  and  great  faults, 
some  of  which  I  nave  noted  already.  Certain  scenes  and 
passages  excepted,  the  workmanship  in  all  its  parts,  in  lan- 
guage, structure  of  the  verse,  and  quality  of  tone,  is  greatly 
below  what  we  find  in  the  Poet's  later  plays.  In  many  places, 
there  is  an  overstudied  roundness  of  diction  and  regularity  of 
movement ;  therewithal  the  persons  often  deliver  themselves 
too  much  in  the  style  of  set  speeches,  and  rather  as  authors 
striving  for  effect  than  as  men  and  women  stirred  by  the  real 
passions  and  interests  of  life ;  there  is  at  times  an  artificial 
and  bookish  tang  in  the  dialogue,  and  many  strains  of  elabo- 
rate jingle  made  by  using  the  same  word  in  different  senses  : 
all  smacking  as  if  the  Poet  wrote  more  from  what  he  had 
read  in  books,  or  heard  at  the  theatre,  than  from  what  his 
most  prying,  quick,  and  apprehensive  ear  had  caught  of  the 
unwritten  drama  of  actual  and  possible  men.     In  illustration 


42  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

of  the  point,  I  may  aptly  refer  to  the  hero's  soliloquy  when 
he  starts  so  wildly  from  his  "  fearful  dream  "  ;  some  parts  of 
which  are  in  or  near  the  Poet's  best  style,  others  in  his  worst. 
The  good  parts  I  have  quoted  already,  and  those  are  indeed 
good  enough :  the  rest  is  made  up  of  forced  conceits  and 
affectations,  such  as  Nature  utterly  refuses  to  own ;  albeit 
the  plays  and  novels  of  that  time  were  generally  full  of  them. 
Here  is  a  brief  specimen  : 

What  do  I  fear  ?  myself?  there's  none  else  by  : 

Richard  loves  Richard  ;  that  is,  I  am  I. 

Is  there  a  murderer  here  ?     No  ;  —  yes,  I  am  : 

Then  fly.    What,  from  myself  ?     Great  reason  why, — 

Lest  I  revenge  myself  upon  myself. 

Alack,  I  love  myself.    Wherefore  ?  for  any  good 

That  I  myself  have  done  unto  myself? 

O,  no !  alas,  I  rather  hate  myself 

For  hateful  deeds  committed  by  myself. 

It  is  hard  to  believe  that  Shakespeare  could  have  written  this 
at  any  time  of  his  life,  or  that  the  speaker  was  meant  to  be 
in  earnest  in  twisting  such  riddles  ;  but  he  was.  Some  have 
indeed  claimed  to  see  a  reason  for  the  thing  in  the  speaker's 
state  of  mind ;  but  this  view  is,  to  my  thinking,  quite  upset 
by  the  better  parts  of  the  same  speech. 

On  the  whole,  then,  I  should  say  that  in  this  piece  the 
author  is  struggling  and  vibrating  between  the  native  impulses 
of  his  genius  and  the  force  of  custom  and  example  ;  or  like 
one  just  passing  out  of  youth  into  manhood,  and  fluctuating 
between  the  two.  For  even  so,  in  some  of  his  plays,  the 
Poet  seems  going  more  by  fashion  than  by  inspiration,  or  con- 
sulting now  what  is  within  him,  now  what  is  around  him.  And 
I  think  it  stands  to  reason,  that  he  could  not  have  reached 
his  own  high  ways  of  art  without  first  practising  in  the  ways 
already  open  and  approved.     Of  course,  as  experience  grad- 


INTRODUCTION.  43 

ually  developed  his  native  strength,  and  at  the  same  time 
taught  him  what  this  was  sufficient  for,  he  would  naturally 
throw  aside  more  and  more  the  aids  of  custom  and  precedent ; 
since  these  would  come  to  be  felt  as  incumbrances  in  pro- 
portion as  he  grew  able  to  do  better  without  them. 

And  this  would  naturally  hold  much  more  in  his  efforts 
at  tragedy  than  at  comedy.  For  the  elements  of  comedy, 
besides  being  more  light  and  wieldy  in  themselves,  had 
been  playing  freely  about  his  boyhood,  and  mingling  in  his 
earliest  observation  of  human  life  and  character  :  so  that 
here  he  would  be  apt  to  cast  himself  more  quickly  and 
unreservedly  upon  Nature,  as  he  had  been  used  to  meet  and 
converse  with  her.  Tragedy,  on  the  other  hand,  must  in  all 
reason  have  been  to  him  a  much  more  artificial  thing ;  and 
he  would  needs  require  both  a  larger  measure  and  a  stronger 
faculty  of  observation  and  experience,  before  he  could  find 
the  elements  of  it  in  Nature,  and  become  able  to  digest  and 
modulate  them  into  the  many-toned  yet  severe  and  nicely- 
balanced  harmony  of  Dramatic  Art.  Is  it  not  clear,  then, 
that  in  proportion  as  he  lacked  the  power  to  grasp  and  wield 
the  forces  of  tragedy,  in  his  first  efforts  in  that  kind,  he 
would  be  mainly  governed  by  what  stood  before  him,  and 
that  the  adventitious  helps  and  influences  of  the  time  would 
be  prominently  reproduced  in  his  work?  Therefore  it  is,  no 
doubt,  that  his  earlier  comedies  are  so  much  more  Shake- 
spearian in  style  and  spirit  and  characterization  than  his 
tragedies  of  the  same  period.  For  can  it  be  questioned  that 
such  a  man  so  circumstanced  would  both  find  himself  and 
make  others  find  him  sooner  in  comedy  than  in  tragedy  ? 
At  all  events,  it  is  certain  that  his  earlier  labours  in  both 
kinds  were,  to  a  great  extent,  specimens  of  imitation  ;  though, 
indeed,  of  imitation  surpassing  its  models.     It  seems  in  fact 


44  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

to  have  been  through  the  process  of  imitation  that  his  char- 
acter and  idiom  got  worked  out  into  free  and  self-reliant 
action. 

So  that,  as  I  have  elsewhere  remarked,  it  is  a  great  mis- 
take to  regard  Shakespeare  as  one  with  whom  the  ordinary 
laws  and  methods  of  intellectual  growth  and  virtue  had  little 
or  nothing  to  do.  He  must  indeed  have  been  a  prodigious 
infant ;  yet  an  infant  he  unquestionably  was  *  and  had  to 
proceed  by  the  usual  paths  from  infancy  to  manhood,  how- 
ever unusual  may  have  been  the  ease  and  speed  of  his 
passage.  Dowered  perhaps  with  such  a  portion  of  genius 
as  hath  fallen  to  no  other  mortal,  still  his  powers  had  to 
struggle  through  the  common  infirmities  and  incumbrances 
of  our  nature.  For,  assuredly,  his  mighty  mind  was  not 
born  full-grown  and  ready- furnished  for  the  course  and 
service  of  Truth,  but  had  to  creep,  totter,  and  prattle ; 
much  study,  observation,  experience,  in  a  word,  a  long, 
severe  tentative  process  being  required  to  insinew  and  dis- 
cipline and  regulate  his  genius  into  power. 


KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 


PERSONS   REPRESENTED. 


King-  Edward  the  Fourth 
Edward;  Prince  of  Wale? 


J 


his  Sons. 


his  Brothers. 


Richard,  Duke  of  York 
Duke  of  Clarence, 
Duke  of  Gloster, 
A  young  Son  of  Clarence. 
Henry  Tudor,  Earl  of  Richmond. 
BOURCHIER,  Primate  of  England. 
ROTHERHAM,  Archbishop  of  York. 
John  Morton,  Bishop  of  Ely. 
Stafford,  Duke  of  Buckingham. 
John  Howard,  Duke  of  Norfolk. 
Thomas,  his  Son,  Earl  of  Surrey. 
WOODVILLE,  Earl  Rivers. 
Marquess  of  Dorset,      \  Sons  of  the 
Richard  Lord  Grey,  )      Queen. 
John  de  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford. 
William  Lord  Hastings. 
Thomas  Lord  Stanley. 


Elizabeth,  Queen  of  Edward  IV. 
Margaret,  Widow  of  Henry  VI. 
Cecily,  Duchess  of  York. 
Lady  Anne. 
A  young  Daughter  of  Clarence. 

Lords  and  other  Attendants  ;  two  Gentlemen,  a  Pursuivant,  Scrivener,  Citi- 
zens, Murderers,  Messengers,  Ghosts,  Soldiers,  &c. 


Francis  Lord  Lovel. 

Sir  Thomas  Vaughan. 

Sir  Richard  Ratcliff. 

Sir  William  Catesby. 

Sir  James  Tyrrel. 

Sir  William  Brandon. 

Sir  James  Blunt. 

Sir  Walter  Herbert. 

Sir  Robert  Brakenbury. 

Christopher  Urswick,  a  Priest. 

Another  Priest. 

Lord  Mayor  of  London. 

Sheriff  of  Wiltshire. 


Scene.  —  England. 


ACT  I. 

Scene  I.  —  London.     A  Street 
Enter  Gloster. 

Glos.    Now  is  the  Winter  of  our  discontent 
Made  glorious  Summer  by  this  sun,1  of  York ; 

1  The  cognizance  of  Edward  IV.  was  a  sun,  in  memory  of  the  three  suns 


46  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

And  all  the  clouds  that  lour'd  upon  our  House 

In  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ocean  buried. 

Now  are  our  brows  bound  with  victorious  wreaths ; 

Our  bruised  arms  hung  up  for  monuments  ; 

Our  stern  alarums  changed  to  merry  meetings, 

Our  dreadful  marches  to  delightful  measures.2 

Grim-visaged  war  hath  smooth'd  his  wrinkled  front ; 

And  now  —  instead  of  mounting  barbed  3  steeds 

To  fright  the  souls  of  fearful 4  adversaries  — 

He  capers  nimbly  in  a  lady's  chamber 

To  the  lascivious  pleasing  of  a  lute. 

But  I,  that  am  not  shaped  for  sportive  tricks, 

Nor  made  to  court  an  amorous  looking-glass ; 

I,  that  am  rudely  stamp'd,  and  want  love's  majesty 

To  strut  before  a  wanton  ambling  nymph ; 

I,  that  am  curtail'd  of  this  fair  proportion,5 

Cheated  of  feature  by  dissembling  Nature,6 

which  are  said  to  have  appeared  at  the  battle  he  gained  over  the  Lancas- 
trians at  Mortimer's  Cross.     See  Third  Part  of  Henry  the  Sixth,  ii.  I. 

2  Measure  was  the  name  of  a  dance.     See  Much  Ado,  page  42,  note  5. 

s  Barbed  is  caparisoned  or  clothed  in  the  trappings  of  war.  The  word 
is  properly  barded,  from  equus  bardatus.    • 

4  Fea?ful  was,  as  it  still  is,  used  in  the  two  opposite  senses  of  terrible  and 
timorous.     Here  it  probably  has  the  former. 

5  Proportion  for  form,  shape,  or  personal  aspect.  Repeatedly  so.  "  This 
fair  proportion "  may  refer  to  what  has  just  been  spoken  of  as  "  love's 
majesty."  But  this  is  probably  here  used  indefinitely,  and  with  something 
of  a  sneer.  The  demonstrative  pronouns  were,  and  still  are,  often  used 
thus.  So  in  2  Henry  IV.,  i.  2  :  "This  apoplexy  is,  as  I  take  it,  a  kind  of 
lethargy." 

6  Feature  in  the  sense  of  form  ox  figure,  and  referring  to  the  person  in 
general.  So  in  More's  description  of  Richard  :  "  Little  of  stature,  ill-featured 
of  limbs,  crook-backed."  —  Dissembling,  here,  is  sometimes  explained  to 
mean,  not  deceiving,  but  putting  together  or  assembling  things  not  semblable, 
as  a  brave  mind  and  a  deformed  body.  It  maybe  so  ;  but  the  word  cheated 
seems  to  make  rather  strongly  against  this  explanation. 


SCENE  I.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  47 

Deform'd,  unfinish'd,  sent  before  my  time 

Into  this  breathing  world,  scarce  half  made  up, 

And  that  so  lamely  and  unfashionable, 

That  dogs  bark  at  me  as  I  halt  by  them ;  — 

Why,  I,  in  this  weak  piping  time  of  peace, 

Have  no  delight  to  pass  away  the  time, 

Unless  to  spy  my  shadow  in  the  sun, 

And  descant  on  mine  own  deformity  : 

And  therefore  —  since  I  cannot  prove  a  lover, 

To  entertain  these  fair  well-spoken  days  — 

I  am  determined  to  prove  a  villain, 

And  hate  the  idle  pleasures  of  these  days. 

Plots  have  I  laid,  inductions  7  dangerous, 

By  drunken  prophecies,  libels,  and  dreams, 

To  set  my  brother  Clarence  and  the  King 

In  deadly  hate  the  one  against  the  other : 

And,  if  King  Edward  be  as  true  and  just 

As  I  am  subtle,  false,  and  treacherous, 

This  day  should  Clarence  closely  be  mew'd  up,8 

About  a  prophecy,  which  says  that  G 

Of  Edward's  heirs  the  murderer  shall  be. 

Dive,  thoughts,  down  to  my  soul :  here  Clarence  comes.  — 

Enter  Clarence,  guarded,  and  Brakenbury. 

Brother,  good  day  :  what  means  this  armed  guard 
That  waits  upon  your  Grace  ? 

Clar,  His  Majesty, 


7  Inductions  are  beginnings,  preparations  ;  things  that  draw  on  or  induce 
events.     Shakespeare  has  the  word  just  so  in  two  other  places. 

8  To  mew  up  was  a  term  in  falconry ;  hawks  being  shut  up  or  confined  in 
a  mew  during  the  season  of  moulting. 


4§  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

Tendering  9  my  person's  safety,  hath  appointed 
This  conduct 10  to  convey  me  to  the  Tower. 

Glos.    Upon  what  cause  ? 

Clar.  Because  my  name  is  George. 

Glos.    Alack,  my  lord,  that  fault  is  none  of  yours ; 
He  should,  for  that,  commit  your  godfathers  : 
O,  belike  his  Majesty  hath  some  intent 
That  you  shall  be  new-christen'd  in  the  Tower. 
But  what's  the  matter,  Clarence?  may  I  know? 

Clar.    Yea,  Richard,  when  I  know ;  for  I  protest 
As  yet  I  do  not :  but,  as  I  can  learn, 
He  hearkens  after  prophecies  and  dreams ; 
And  from  the  cross-row  n  plucks  the  letter  G, 
And  says  a  wizard  told  him  that  by  G 
His  issue  disinherited  should  be  ; 
And,  for12  my  name  of  George  begins  with  G, 
It  follows  in  his  thought  that  I  am  he. 
These,  as  I  learn,  and  such-like  toys 13  as  these, 
Have  moved  his  Highness  to  commit  me  now. 

Glos.   Why,  this  it  is,  when  men  are  ruled  by  women  : 
'Tis  not  the  King  that  sends  you  to  the  Tower ; 
My  Lady  Grey  his  wife,  Clarence,  'tis  she 


9  To  tender  a  thing  is  to  be  careful  of  it,  to  have  a  tender  regard  for  it,  to 
hold  it  dear.     See  Hamlet,  page  73,  note  27. 

10  Conduct  for  conductor,  or  escort.     See  Twelfth  Night,  p.  105,  note  20. 

11  Cross-row  is  an  abbreviation  of  Christ-cross-row,  and  means  the  alpha- 
bet, which  is  said  to  have  been  so  called,  either  because  a  cross  was  placed 
before  it,  or  because  it  was  written  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  to  be  used  as  a 
sort  of  charm. 

12  For  is  here  equivalent  to  because  ;  a  frequent  usage. 

13  Toys  for  whims,  fancies,  or  freaks  of  imag'mation.  So  in  Hamlet,  i.  4  : 
"  The  very  place  puts  toys  of  desperation  into  every  brain  that  looks  so 
many  fathoms  to  the  sea,"  &c. 


SCENE  I.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  49 

That  tempers 14  him  to  this  extremity. 

Was  it  not  she,  and  that  good  man  of  worship, 

Antony  Woodeville,15  her  brother  there, 

That  made  him  send  Lord  Hastings  to  the  Tower, 

From  whence  this  present  day  he  is  deliver'd  ? 

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

Clar.    By  Heaven,  I  think  there  is  no  man  secure 
But  the  Queen's  kindred,  and  night-walking  heralds 
That  trudge  betwixt  the  King  and  Mistress  Shore. 
Heard  ye  not  what  an  humble  suppliant 
Lord  Hastings  was  to  her  for  his  delivery  ? 

Glos.    Humbly  complaining  to  her  Deity 
Got  my  Lord  Chamberlain  his  liberty. 
I'll  tell  you  what ;  I  think  it  is  our  way, 
If  we  will  keep  in  favour  with  the  King, 
To  be  her  men,  and  wear  her  livery  : 
The  jealous  o'erworn  widow  and  herself,16 
Since  that  our  brother  dubb'd  them  gentlewomen, 
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. 

Glos.    Even  so  ;  an  please  your  Worship,  Brakenbury, 
You  may  partake  of  any  thing  we  say  : 
We  speak  no  treason,  man  :  we  say  the  King 


14  Tempers  is  frames ;  fashions \  or  disposes. 

15  This  name  is  here  three  syllables.     Commonly  spelt  Woodville. 

16  The  widow  is  Queen  Elizabeth,  the  name  of  whose  deceased  husband 
was  Grey.  Herself  refers  to  Mrs.  Jane  Shore,  quite  a  noted  character  of 
the  time,  whom  King  Edward  is  said  to  have  cherished  as  a  sort  of  left-hand 
wife.    She  was  much  mixed  up  with  the  intrigues  of  the  Court. 


50  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

Is  wise  and  virtuous  ;  and  his  noble  Queen 

Well  struck  in  years,  fair,  and  not  jealous  : 

We  say  that  Shore's  wife  hath  a  pretty  foot, 

A  cherry  lip,  a  bonny  eye,  a  passing  pleasing  tongue ; 

And  the  Queen's  kindred  are  made  gentlefolks  : 

How  say  you,  sir?  can  you  deny  all  this? 

Brak.    With  this,  my  lord,  myself  have  nought  to  do. 

GIos.    Nought  to  do  with  Mistress  Shore  !  I  tell  thee,  fellow, 
He  that  doth  naught 17  with  her,  excepting  one, 
Were  best  to  do  it  secretly,  alone. 

Brak.    What  one,  my  lord  ? 

GIos.    Her  husband,  knave  :  wouldst  thou  betray  me  ? 

Brak.   Beseech  your  Grace  to  pardon  me  ;  and,  withal, 
Forbear  your  conference  with  the  noble  duke. 

Clar.    We  know  thy  charge,  Brakenbury,  and  will  obey. 

GIos.    We  are  the  Queen's  abjects,18  and  must  obey. — 
Brother,  farewell :   I  will  unto  the  King  ; 
And  whatsoe'er  you  will  employ  me  in, — ■ 
Were  it  to  call  King  Edward's  widow  sister, — 
I  will  perform  it  to  enfranchise  you. 
Meantime,  this  deep  disgrace  in  brotherhood 
Touches  me  deeper  than  you  can  imagine. 

Clar.    I  know  it  pleaseth  neither  of  us  well. 

GIos.    Well,  your  imprisonment  shall  not  be  long ; 
I  will  deliver  you,  or  else  lie  for  you  :  19 
Meantime  have  patience. 

17  Richard  is  quibbling  between  nought  and  naught,  the  latter  of  which 
has  the  sense  of  bad,  as  in  our  word  naughty. 

18  The  lowest  of  her  subjects.  This  substantive  is  found  in  Psalm  xxxv. 
15  :  "Yea,  the  very  abjects  came  together  against  me  unawares,  making 
mouths  at  me,  and  ceased  not." 

19  Or  else  lie  in  prison  in  your  stead.  But  a  quibble  is  probably  intended 
between  the  two  senses  of  lie. 


SCENE  I.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  5 1 

Clar.  I  must  perforce  :  farewell. 

\_Exeunt  Clarence,  Brakenbury,  and  Guard. 

Glos.    Go,,  tread  the  path  that  thou  shalt  ne'er  return, 
Simple,  plain  Clarence  !     I  do  love  thee  so, 
That  I  will  shortly  send  thy  soul  to  Heaven, 
If  Heaven  will  take  the  present  at  our  hands. 
But  who  comes  here  ?  the  new-deliver'd  Hastings  ? 

Enter  Hastings. 

Hast.    Good  time  of  day  unto  my  gracious  lord  ! 

Glos.   As  much  unto  my  good  Lord  Chamberlain  ! 
Well  are  you  welcome  to  the  open  air. 
How  hath  your  lordship  brook'd  imprisonment  ? 

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

Glos.    No  doubt,  no  doubt ;  and  so  shall  Clarence  too  ; 
For  they  that  were  your  enemies  are  his, 
And  have  prevail'd  as  much  on20  him  as  you. 

Hast.    More  pity  that  the  eagle  should  be  mew'd, 
While  kites  and  buzzards  prey  at  liberty. 

Glos.    What  news  abroad  ? 

Hast.    No  news  so  bad  abroad  as  this  at  home  : 
The  King  is  sickly,  weak,  and  melancholy, 
And  his  physicians  fear  him21  mightily. 

Glos.   Now,  by  Saint  Paul,22  this  news  is  bad  indeed. 
O,  he  hath  kept  an  evil  diet  long, 
And  overmuch  consumed  his  royal  person  : 


20  Prevail'd  on  is  here  used  for  prevail'd  against. 

21  Fear  for  him,  of  course.    This  mode  of  speech  was  not  uncommon. 
See  The  Merchant,  page  157,  note  1. 

22  "  By  Saint  Paul  "  was  in  fact  Richard's  favourite  oath. 


52  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

Tis  very  grievous  to  be  thought  upon. 
What,  is  he  in  his  bed  ? 

Hast.   He  is. 

Glos.    Go  you  before,  and  I  will  follow  you.  — 

[Exit  Hastings. 
He  cannot  live,  I  hope  ;  and  must  not  die 
Till  George  be  pack'd  with  post-haste  up  to  Heaven. 
I'll  in,  to  urge  his  hatred  more  to  Clarence, 
With  lies  well  steel'd  with  weighty  arguments ; . 
And,  if  I  fail  not  in  my  deep  intent, 
Clarence  hath  not  another  day  to  live  : 
Which  done,  God  take  King  Edward  to  His  mercy, 
And  leave  the  world  for  me  to  bustle  in  ! 
For  then  I'll  marry  Warwick's  youngest  daughter  :23 
What  though  I  kill'd  her  husband  and  her  father? 
The  readiest  way  to  make  the  wench  amends, 
Is  to  become  her  husband  and  her  father : 
The  which  will  I ;  not  all  so  much  for  love 
As  for  another  secret  close  intent,24 
By  marrying  her  which  I  must  reach  unto. 
But  yet  I  run  before  my  horse  to  market : 
Clarence  still  breathes  ;  Edward  still  lives  and  reigns  : 
When  they  are  gone,  then  must  I  count  my  gains.        \_Exit. 


23  This  was  Lady  Anne,  daughter  of  Richard  Neville,  the  great  Earl  of 
Warwick,  known  in  history  as  the  "  king-maker."  She  had  been  married 
to  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  son  of  King  Henry  the  Sixth.  Her  young 
husband  was  killed,  murdered,  it  was  said,  at  the  battle  of  Tewksbury,  which 
took  place  May  4th,  1471.  Her  oldest  sister,  Isabella,  wife  to  the  Clarence 
of  this  play,  had  died  some  time  before. 

24  This  "secret  close  intent"  probably  was  to  get  into  his  hands  the  son 
and  daughter  of  Clarence,  who  had  been  left  in  the  care  of  Lady  Anne  their 
aunt,  and  had  succeeded  to  the  larger  portion  of  the  vast  estates  of  their 
grandfather,  the  great  Earl  of  Warwick. 


SCENE  II.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  53 


Scene  II.  —  The  Same.     Another  Street. 

Enter  the  corpse  of  King  Henry  the  Sixth,  borne  in  an  open 
coffin,  Gentlemen  with  halberds  to  guard  it,  —  among  them 
Tressel  and  Berkeley  ;  and  Lady  Anne  as  Mourner. 

Anne.    Set  down,  set  down  your  honourable  load, — 
If  honour  may  be  shrouded  in  a  hearse,  — 
Whilst  I  awhile  obsequiously1  lament 
Th'  untimely  fall  of  virtuous  Lancaster.  — 

\The  Beareis  set  down  the  coffin. 
Poor  key-cold2  figure  of  a  holy  king  ! 
Pale  ashes  of  the  House  of  Lancaster  ! 
Thou  bloodless  remnant  of  that  royal  blood  ! 
Be't  lawful  that  I  invocate  thy  ghost 
To  hear  the  lamentations  of  poor  Anne, 
Wife  to  thy  Edward,  to  thy  slaughter'd  son, 
Stabb'd  by  the  selfsame  hand  that  made  these  wounds  ! 
Lo,  in  these  windows  that  let  forth  thy  life, 
I  pour  the  helpless  balm  of  my  poor  eyes  : 
O,  cursed  be  the  hand  that  made  these  holes  ! 
Cursed  the  heart  that  had  the  heart  to  do  it ! 
Cursed  the  blood  that  let  this  blood  from  hence  ! 
More  direful  hap  betide  that  hated  wretch 
That  makes  us  wretched  by  the  death  of  thee, 

1  To  lament  obsequiously  is  to  make  the  lamentation  proper  to  obsequies, 
or  rites  of  burial.     See  Hamlet,  page  60,  note  21. 

*  2  As  cold  as  a  key ;  but  why  a  key  should  be  taken  for  an  image  of  cold- 
ness is  not  very  clear.  The  usage  is  not  uncommon  in  the  old  writers. 
Shakespeare  has  it  again  in  Lucrece :  "  And  then  in  key-cold  Lucrece' 
bleeding  stream  he  falls."  Thus,  also,  in  Holland's  Pliny  :  "  In  this  habite, 
disguised  as  hee  sat,  hee  was  starke  dead  and  key-cold  before  any  man  per- 
ceived it." 


54  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

Than  I  can  wish  to  adders,  spiders,  toads,     ' 

Or  any  creeping  venom'd  thing  that  lives  ! 

If  ever  he  have  child,  abortive  be  it, 

Prodigious,3  and  untimely  brought  to  light, 

Whose  ugly  and  unnatural  aspect 

May  fright  the  hopeful  mother  at  the  view ; 

And  that  be  heir  to  his  unhappiness  !4 

If  ever  he  have  wife,  let  her  be  made 

More  miserable  by  the  death  of  him 

Than  I  am  made  by  my  young  lord  and  thee  !  — 

Come,  now  towards  Chertsey  with  your  holy  load, 

Taken  from  Paul's  to  be  interred  there  ; 

And  still,  as  you  are  weary  of  the  weight, 

Rest  you,  whiles  I  lament  King  Henry's  corse. 

\The  Bearers  take  up  the  coffin  and  move  foi'wards. 

Enter  Gloster. 

Glos.    Stay,  you  that  bear  the  corse,  and  set  it  down. 

Anne.   What  black  magician  conjures  up  this  fiend, 
To  stop  devoted  charitable  deeds  ? 

Glos.   Villains,  set  down  the  corse  ;  or,  by  Saint  Paul, 
I'll  make  a  corse  of  him  that  disobeys  ! 

i  Gent.    My  lord,  stand  back,  and  let  the  coffin  pass. 

Glos.    Unmanner'd  dog  !  stand  thou,  when  I  command  : 
Advance5  thy  halberd  higher  than  my  breast, 
Or,  by  Saint  Paul,  I'll  strike  thee  to  my  foot, 

3  Prodigious  for  monstrous ;  one  of  the  Latin  senses  of  the  word.  Such 
births  were  held  to  be  of  evil  omen.  See  A  Midsummer-Night 's  Dream, 
page  112,  note  25. 

4  Unhappiness  here  means  mischievousness,  or  propensity  to  mischief. 
The  Poet  has  it  several  times  in  this  sense.     See  Much  Ado,  p.  53,  note  32. 

5  Here,  as  often,  advance  is  raise  or  lift  zip.  —  Unmannerd,  in  the  pre- 
ceding line,  is  unma?inerly,  or  insolent. 


SCENE  II. 


KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  55 


And  spurn  upon  thee,  beggar,  for  thy  boldness. 

\_The  Bearei's  set  down  the  coffin. 
Anne.   What,  do  you  tremble  ?  are  you  all  afraid  ? 

Alas,  I  blame  you  not ;  for  you  are  mortal, 

And  mortal  eyes  cannot  endure  the  Devil.  — 

Avaunt,  thou  dreadful  minister  of  Hell ! 

Thou  hadst  but  power  over  his  mortal  body, 

His  soul  thou  canst  not  have  ;  therefore  be  gone. 
Glos.  Sweet  saint,  for  charity,  be  not  so  curst.6 
Anne.  Foul  devil,  for  God's  sake,  hence,  and  trouble  us  not ; 

For  thou  hast  made  the  happy  Earth  thy  hell, 

Fill'd  it  with  cursing  cries  and  deep  exclaims. 

If  thou  delight  to  view  thy  heinous  deeds, 

Behold  this  pattern  of  thy  butcheries.  — 

O,  gentlemen,  see,  see  !  dead  Henry's  wounds 

Open  their  congeal'd  mouths  and  bleed7  afresh  !  — 

Blush,  blush,  thou  lump  of  foul  deformity ; 

For  'tis  thy  presence  that  exhales  8  this  blood 

From  cold  and  empty  veins,  where  no  blood  dwells  : 

Thy  deed,  inhuman  and  unnatural, 

Provokes  this  deluge  most  unnatural.  — 

O  God,  which  this  blood  madest,  revenge  his  death  ! 

O  Earth,  which  this  blood  drink'st,  revenge  his  death  ! 


6  Curst  is  sharp-tongued,  or  fierce  and  bitter  of  speech.  Repeatedly  so. 
See  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream,  page  jj,  note  26. 

7  This  is  founded  on  Holinshed's  account  of  Henry's  funeral :  "  The  dead 
corps  was  conveied  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  bleed.  From  thense  he  was  caried  to  the  Blackfriers,  and  bled  there 
likewise."  —  It  used  to  be  thought  that  the  body  of  a  murdered  person 
would  bleed  afresh,  if  touched  or  approached  by  the  murderer. 

8  Shakespeare  repeatedly  has  exhale  in  the  sense  of  draw  out.  In 
Henry  V.  Pistol  uses  it  imperatively,  meaning,  "  draw  thy  sword." 


56  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

Either,  Heaven,  with  lightning  strike  the  murderer  dead ; 
Or,  Earth,  gape  open  wide,  and  eat  him  quick,9 
As  thou  dost  swallow  up  this  good  King's  blood, 
Which  his  hell-govern'd  arm  hath  butchered  ! 

Glos.    Lady,  you  know  no  rules  of.  charity, 
Which  renders  good  for  bad,  blessings  for  curses. 

Anne.   Villain,  thou  know'st  no  law  of  God  nor  man  : 
No  beast  so  fierce  but  knows  some  touch  of  pity. 

Glos.    But  I  know  none,  and  therefore  am  no  beast. 

Anne.    O  wonderful,  when  devils  tell  the  truth  ! 

Glos.    More  wonderful,  when  angels  are  so  angry. 
Vouchsafe,  divine  perfection  of  a  woman, 
Of  these  supposed  crimes,  to  give  me  leave, 
By  circumstance,  but  to  acquit  myself.  ~ 

Anne.    Vouchsafe,  diffused  10  infection  of  a  man, 
For  these  known  evils,  but  to  give  me  leave, 
By  circumstance,  to  curse  thy  cursed  self. 

Glos.    Fairer  than  tongue  can  name  thee,  let  me  have 
Some  patient  leisure  to  excuse  myself. 

Anne.    Fouler  than  heart  can  think  thee,  thou  canst  make 
No  Excuse  current,  but  to  hang  thyself. 

Glos.    By  such  despair,  I  should  accuse  myself. 

Anne.   And,  by  despairing,  shouldst  thou  stand  excused 
For  doing  worthy  vengeance  on  thyself, 
That  didst  unworthy  slaughter  upon  others. 

Glos.    Say,  that  I  slew  them  not. 

Anne.  Why,  then  they  are  not  dead  : 

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

9  Quick  is  alive  or  living ;  so  that  the  meaning  is  swallow  him  alive.    So 
in  Hamlet,  v.  i :  "  Be  buried  quick  with  her,  and  so  will  I."     See,  also,  The 

Winter's  Tale,  page  117,  note  18. 

10  Diffused  sometimes  meant  dark,  obscure,  uncouth,  or  confused. 


SCENE  II.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  57 

Glos.    I  did  not  kill  your  husband. 

Anne.  Why,  then  he  is  alive. 

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

Anne.    In  thy  foul  throat  thou  liest :  Queen  Margaret  saw 
Thy  murderous  falchion  smoking  in  his  blood ; 
The  which  thou  once  didst  bend  against  her  breast, 
But  that  thy  brothers  beat  aside  the  point. 

Glos.    I  was  provoked  by  her  slanderous  tongue, 
That  laid  their  guilt n  upon  my  guiltless  shoulders. 

Anne.   Thou  wast  provoked  by  thy  bloody  mind, 
That  never  dreamt  on  aught  but  butcheries  : 
Didst  thou  not  kill  this  King? 

Glos.  I  grant  ye. 

Anne.    Dost  grant  me,  hedgehog  ?  then,  God  grant  me  too 
Thou  mayst  be  damned  for  that  wicked  deed  ! 
O,  he  was  gentle,  mild,  and  virtuous  ! 

Glos.   The  fitter  for  the  King  of  Heaven,  that  hath  him. 

Anne.    He  is  in  Heaven,  where  thou  shalt  never  come. 

Glos.   Let  him  thank  me,  that  holp  12  to  send  him  thither ; 
For  he  was  fitter  for  that  place  than  Earth. 

Anne.   And  thou  unfit  for  any  place  but  Hell. 

Glos.   Yes,  one  place  else,  if  you  will  hear  me  name  it. 

Anne.    Some  dungeon. 

Glos.  Your  bed-chamber. 

Anne.    Ill  rest  betide  the  chamber  where-  thou  liest ! 

Glos.   So  will  it,  madam,  till  I  lie  with  you. 

Anne.    I  hope  so. 

Glos.  I  know  so.     But,  gentle  Lady  Anne,  — 

11  The  guilt  of  his  brothers  who  slew  the  Prince. 

12  Holp  or  holpen  is  the  old  preterite  form  of  the  verb  to  help.  It  occurs 
very  often  in  the  English  Psalter,  which  is  a  much  older  version  of  the 
Psalms  than  that  in  the  Bible. 


58  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

To  leave  this  keen  encounter  of  our  wits, 
And  fall  somewhat  into  a  slower  method,  — 
Is  not  the  causer  of  the  timeless  13  deaths 
Of  these  Plantagenets,  Henry  and  Edward, 
As  blameful  as  the  executioner? 

Anne.   Thou  wast  the  cause,  and  most  accursed  th'  effect.14 

Glos.    Your  beauty  was  the  cause  of  that  effect ; 
Your  beauty  that  did  haunt  me  in  my  sleep 
To  undertake  the  death  of  all  the  world, 
So  I  might  live  one  hour  in  your  sweet  bosom. 

Anne.    If  I  thought  that,  I  tell  thee,  homicide, 
These  nails  should  rend  that  beauty  from  my  cheeks. 

Glos.    These  eyes  could  not  endure  that  beauty'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. 

Anne.    Black  night  o'ershade  thy  day,  and  death  thy  life  ! 

Glos.    Curse  not  thyself,  fair  creature  ;  thou  art  both. 

Anne.    I  would  I  were,  to  be  revenged  on  thee. 

Glos.    It  is  a  quarrel  most  unnatural, 
To  be  revenged  on  him  that  loveth  thee. 

A?me.    It  is  a  quarrel  just  and  reasonable, 
To  be  revenged  on  him  that  kill'd  my  husband. 

Glos.    He  that  bereft  thee,  lady,  of  thy  husband, 
Did  it  to  help  thee  to  a  better  husband. 

Anne.    His  better  doth  not  breathe  upon  the  Earth. 

Glos.    He  lives  that  loves  thee  better  than  he  could. 

13  Timeless,  here,  is  unt'wiely.  A  frequent  use  of  the  word  in  Shake- 
speare's time.  So  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  v.  3 :  "  Poison,  I  see,  hath  been  his 
timeless  end."  In  the  first  speech  of  this  scene,  we  have  a  like  use  of  help- 
less for  unhelping  or  unavailing :  "  I  pour  the  helpless  balm  of  my  poor 
eyes." 

14  And  most  accursed  is  the  effect ;  effect  referring  to  their  death. 


SCENE  II.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  59 

Anne.    Name  him. 

Glos.  Plantagenet. 

Anne.  Why,  that  was  he. 

Glos.   The  selfsame  name,  but  one  of  better  nature. 

Anne.    Where  is  he? 

Glos.  Here.  \_She  spits  at  him.~\  Why  dost 

thou  spit  at  me  ? 

Anne.    Would  it  were  mortal  poison,  for  thy  sake  ! 

Glos.   Never  came  poison  from  so  sweet  a  place. 

Anne.    Never  hung  poison  on  a  fouler  toad. 
Out  of  my  sight  !  thou  dost  infect  mine  eyes. 

Glos.   Thine  eyes,  sweet  lady,  have  infected  mine. 

Anne.   Would  they  were  basilisks,15  to  strike  thee  dead  ! 

Glos.    I  would  they  were,  that  I  might  die  at  once ; 
For  now  they  kill  me  with  a  living  death. 
Those  eyes  of  thine  from  mine  have  drawn  salt  tears, 
Shamed  their  aspects  with  store  of  childish  drops  : 
These  eyes,  which  never  shed  remorseful 16  tear,  — 
Not  when  my  father  York  and  Edward  wept 
To  hear17  the  piteous  moan  that  Rutland  made 
When  black-faced  Clifford  shook  his  sword  at  him ; 
Nor  when  thy  warlike  father,  like  a  child, 
Told  the  sad  story  of  my  father's  death, 
And  twenty  times  made  pause  to  sob  and  weep, 

15  The  Poet  has  several  allusions  to  this  imaginary  power  of  the  reptile, 
called  basilisk  from  its  having  on  the  head  some  resemblance  to  a  crown ; 
the  name  being  from  the  Greek,  and  signifying  a  little  king.  So  Bacon, 
Advancement  of  Learning,  xxi.  9  :  "  For,  as  the  fable  goeth  of  the  basilisk, 
that  if  he  see  you  first,  you  die  for  it;  but  if  you  see  him  first,  he  dieth  ;  so 
is  it  with  deceits  and  evil  arts."     See  The  Winter's  Tale,  page  58,  note  51. 

16  Remorse  was  continually  used  for  pity,  remorseful  ior  pitiful. 

17  Wept  at  hearing  ;  the  infinitive  used  gerundively.  The  Poet  abounds 
in  this  usage.    See  Julius  Ccesar,  page  137,  note  2. 


60  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

That  all  the  standers-by  had  wet  their  cheeks, 

Like  trees  bedash'd  with  rain ;  —  in  that  sad  time 

My  manly  eyes  did  scorn  an  humble  tear ; 

And  what  these  sorrows  could  not  thence  exhale, 

Thy  beauty  hath,  and  made  them  blind  with  weeping. 

I  never  sued  to  friend  nor  enemy ; 

My  tongue  could  never  learn  sweet  smoothing  words ; 

But,  now  thy  beauty  is  proposed  my  fee, 

My  proud  heart  sues,  and  prompts  my  tongue  to  speak. 

\_She  looks  scornfully  at  him. 
Teach  not  thy  lips  such  scorn ;  for  they  were  made 
For  kissing,  lady,  not  for  such  contempt. 
If  thy  revengeful  heart  cannot  forgive, 
Lo,  here  I  lend  thee  this  sharp-pointed  sword ; 
Which  if  thou  please  to  bide  in  this  true  breast, 
And  let  the  soul  forth  that  adoreth  thee, 
I  lay  it  naked  to  the  deadly  stroke, 
And  humbly  beg  the  death  upon  my  knee. 

[  Gives  her  his  sword,  and  lays  his  breast  open,  kneeling. 
Nay,  do  not  pause ;  for  I  did  kill  King  Henry,  — 

\_She  offers  at  his  breast  with  his  sword. 
But  'twas  thy  beauty  that  provoked  me. 
Nay,  now  dispatch ;  'twas  I  that  stabb'd  young  Edward,  — 

[She  again  offers  at  his  breast. 
But  'twas  thy  heavenly  face  that  set  me  on. 

[She  lets  fall  the  sword. 
Take  up  the  sword  again,  or  take  up  me. 

Anne.   Arise,  dissembler  :  though  I  wish  thy  death, 
I  will  not  be  thy  executioner. 

Glos.   Then  bid  me  kill  myself,  and  I  will  do  it. 

[Rises,  and  takes  up  his  sword. 

Anne.    I  have  already. 


SCENE  II. 


KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  6 1 


Glos.  That  was  in  thy  rage  : 

Speak  it  again,  and,  even  with  the  word, 
This  hand,  which  for  thy  love  did  kill  thy  love, 
Shall  for  thy  love  kill  a  far  truer  love  ; 
To  both  their  deaths  shalt  thou  be  accessary. 

Anne.    I  would  I  knew  thy  heart. . 

Glos.    'Tis  figured  in  my  tongue. 

Anne.    I  fear  me  both  are  false. 

Glos.   Then  never  man  was  true. 

Anne.    Well,  well,  put  up  your  sword. 

Glos.    Say,  then,  my  peace  is  made. 

Anne.   That  shalt  thou  know  hereafter. 

Glos.    But  shall  I  live  in  hope  ? 

Anne.   All  men,  I  hope,  live  so. 

Glos.   Vouchsafe  to  wear  this  ring. 

Anne.   To  take,  is  not  to  give.  [She  puts  on  the  ring. 

Glos.    Look,  how  my  ring  encompasseth  thy  finger, 
Even  so  thy  breast  encloseth  my  poor  heart ; 
Wear  both  of  them,  for  both  of  them  are  thine. 
And,  if  thy  poor  devoted  servant  may 
But  beg  one  favour  at  thy  gracious  hand, 
Thou  dost  confirm  his  happiness  for  ever. 

Anne.    What  is  it  ? 

Glos.   That  it  may  please  you  leave  these  sad  designs 
To  him  that  hath  more  cause  to  be  a  mourner, 
And  presently  repair  to  Crosby-place  ; 
Where  —  after  I  have  solemnly  interr'd, 
At  Chertsey  monastery,  this  noble  King, 
And  wet  his  grave  with  my  repentant  tears  — 
I  will  with  all  expedient 18  duty  see  you  : 

18  Expedient  for  expeditious.     Repeatedly  so.     So  in  King  yohn,  ii.  i  : 
"  His  marches  are  expedient  to  this  town." 


62  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  1. 

For  divers  unknown  reasons,  I  beseech  you, 
Grant  me  this  boon. 

Anne.    With  all  my  heart ;  and  much  it  joys  me  too 
To  see  you  are  become  so  penitent.  — 
Tressel  and  Berkeley,  go  along  with  me. 

Glos.   Bid  me  farewell. 

Anne.  Tis  more  than  you  deserve ; 

But,  since  you  teach  me  how  to  flatter  you, 
Imagine  I  have  said  farewell  already. 

[Exeunt  Lady  Anne,  Tressel,  and  Berkeley. 

Glos.    Sirs,  take  up  the  corse. 

Gent.  Towards  Chertsey,  noble  lord? 

Glos.    No,  to  White-Friars  ;  there  attend 19  my  coming.  — 

\Exeunt  all  but  Gloster. 
Was  ever  woman  in  this  humour  woo'd? 
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,  tears  in  her  eyes, 
The  bleeding  witness  of  her  hatred  by ; 
Having  God,  her  conscience,  and  these  bars  against  me, 
And  I  no  friends  to  back  my  suit  withal 
But  the  plain  devil  and  dissembling  looks, 
And  yet  to  win  her,  —  all. the  world  to  nothing  !20 
Ha! 

Hath  she  forgot  already  that  brave  Prince, 
Edward,  her  lord,  whom  I,  some  three  months  since, 
Stabb'd  in  my  angry  mood  at  Tewksbury?21 

19  Here,  as  often,  attend  is  wait  for  or  await.     So  in  Coriolanus,  i.  I : 
"  Your  company  to  th'  Capitol ;  where  our  greatest  friends  attend  us  !  " 

20  "  The  chances  against  me  were  as  all  the  world  to  nothing." 

21  This  fixes  the  time  of  the  scene  to  August,  1471.     King  Edward,  how- 


SCENE  II.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  63 

A  sweeter  and  a  lovelier  gentleman  — 

Framed  in  the  prodigality  of  Nature, 

Young,  wise,  and  valiant,  and,  no  doubt,  right  royal  — 

The  spacious  world  cannot  again  afford  : 

And  will  she  yet  abase22  her  eyes  on  me, 

That  cropp'd  the  golden  prime  of  this  sweet  Prince, 

And  made  her  widow  to  a  woeful  bed  ? 

On  me,  whose  all  not  equals  Edward's  moiety? 

On  me,  that  halt  and  am  mis-shapen  thus  ? 

My  dukedom  to  a  beggarly  denier,23 

I  do  mistake  my  person  all  this  while  : 

Upon  my  life,  she  finds,  although  I  cannot, 

Myself  to  be  a  marvellous  proper 24  man. 

I'll  be  at  charges  for  a  looking-glass  ; 

And  entertain  a  score  or  two  of  tailors 

To  study  fashions  to  adorn  my  body  : 

Since  I  am  crept  in  favour  with  myself, 

I  will  maintain  it  with  some  little  cost. 

But  first  I'll  turn  yon  fellow  in25  his  grave; 

And  then  return  lamenting  to  my  love.  — 

Shine  out,  fair  Sun,  till  I  have  bought  a  glass, 

That  I  may  see  my  shadow  as  I  pass.  \_Exit. 

ever,  is  introduced  in  the  second  Act  dying.  That  King  died  in  April, 
1483 ;  consequently  there  is  an  interval  between  this  Act  and  the  next  of 
almost  twelve  years.  Clarence,  who  is  represented  in  the  preceding  scene 
as  committed  to  the  Tower  before  the  burial  of  King  Henry  VI.,  was  in  fact 
not  confined  till  February,  1478,  nearly  seven  years  afterwards. 

22  To  abase  is  to  cast  down,  to  lower,  or  to  let  fall, 

23  A  small  coin,  the  twelfth  part  of  a  French  sous. 

24  Marvellous  is  here  used  adverbially.     Proper  for  handsome  or  well- 
proportioned..     See  The  Merchant,  page  91,  note  17. 

25  Shakespeare  uses  in  or  into  indifferently,  as  suits  his  verse. 


64  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

Scene  III.  —  The  Same.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 
Enter  Queen  Elizabeth,  Rivers,  and  Grey. 

Riv.    Have  patience,  madam  :  there's  no  doubt  his  Maj- 
esty- 
Will  soon  recover  his  accustom'd  health. 

Grey.    In  that  you  brook  it  ill,  it  makes  him  worse  : 
Therefore,  for  God's  sake,  entertain  good  comfort, 
And  cheer  his  Grace  with  quick 1  and  merry  words. 

Q.  Eliz.    If  he  were  dead,  what  would  betide  of  me  ? 

Riv.    No  other  harm  but  loss  of  such  a  lord. 

Q.  Eliz.   The  loss  of  such  a  lord  includes  all  harms. 

Grey.   The  Heavens  have  bless'd  you  with  a  goodly  son, 
To  be  your  comforter  when  he  is  gone. 

Q.  Eliz.    Ah,  he  is  young ;  and  his  minority 
Is  put  into  the  trust  of  Richard  Gloster, 
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  2  yet : 
But  so  it  must  be,  if  the  King  miscarry. 

Enter  Buckingham  and  Stanley.3 

Grey.    Here  come  the  Lords  of  Buckingham  and  Stanley. 

1  Quick,  here,  is  lively,  sprightly.  So  in  Love  s  Labours  Lost,  i.  1 :  "  But 
is  there  no  quick  recreation  granted  ?  " 

2  A  thing  was  said  to  be  determined,  when  it  was  resolved  upon ;  con- 
cluded, when  it  was  formally  passed,  so  as  to  be  a  ground  of  action. 

3  Henry  Stafford,  the  present  Duke  of  Buckingham,  was  descended,  on 
his  father's  side,  from  Thomas  of  Woodstock,  the  fifth  son  of  Edward  III. 
On  his  mother's  side  he  was  descended  from  John  of  Ghent,  third  son  of 
the  same  great  Edward.  He  was  as  accomplished  and  as  unprincipled  as 
he  was  nobly  descended*.  —  Thomas  Lord  Stanley  was  Lord  Steward  of  the 
King's  household  to  Edward  IV. 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  6$ 

Buck.    Good  time  of  day  unto  your  royal  Grace  ! 

Stan.    God  make  your  Majesty  joyful  as  you  have  been  ! 

Q.  Eliz.   The  Countess  Richmond,4  good   my  Lord   of 
Stanley, 
To  your  good  prayer  will  scarcely  say  amen. 
Yet,  Stanley,  notwithstanding  she's  your  wife, 
And  loves  not  me,  be  you,  good  lord,  assured 
I  hate  not  you  for  her  proud  arrogance. 

Stan.   I  do  beseech  you,  either  not  believe 
The  envious  slanders  of  her  false  accusers ; 
Or,  if  she  be  accused  on  true  report, 
Bear  with  her  weakness,  which,  I  think,  proceeds 
From  wayward  sickness,  and  no  grounded  malice. 

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

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

Q.  Eliz.   What  likelihood  of  his  amendment,  lords  ? 

Buck.    Madam,  good  hope  ;  his  Grace  speaks  cheerfully. 

Q.  Eliz.    God  grant  him  health  !     Did  you  confer  with 
him? 

Buck.    Ay,  madam  :  he  desires  to  make  atonement 5 
Between  the  Duke  of  Gloster  and  your  brothers, 
And  between  them  and  my  Lord  Chamberlain ; 

4  The  Countess  of  Richmond  was  Margaret,  the  only  child  of  John  Beau- 
fort, the  first  Duke  of  Somerset,  and  so  was  descended  from  John  of  Ghent 
through  the  Beaufort  branch  of  his  family ;  born  out  of  wedlock.  Margaret's 
first  husband  was  Edmund,  Earl  of  Richmond,  son  of  Owen  Tudor,  by 
whom  she  became  the  mother  of  Henry  VII.  Afterwards  she  was  married 
successively  to  Sir  Henry  Stafford,  uncle  of  Buckingham,  and  to  the  Lord 
Stanley  of  this  play,  but  had  no  more  children.  She  lived  to  a  great  age, 
and  was  so  highly  reputed  for  prudence  and  virtue,  that  her  grandson, 
Henry  VIII.,  was  mainly  guided  by  her  advice  in  forming  his  first  council. 

5  Atonement  is  reconciliation,  at-one-ment.  See  As  You  Like  It,  page  137, 
note  20. 


66  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

And  sent  to  warn  6  them  to  his  royal  presence. 

Q.  Eliz.  .Would  all  were  well !  but  that  will  never  be  : 
I  fear  our  happiness  is  at  the  height. 

Enter  Gloster,  Hastings,  and  Dorset. 

Glos.   They  do  me  wrong,  and  I  will  not  endure  it: 
Who  are  they  that  complain  unto  the  King 
That  I,  forsooth,  am  stern,  and  love  them  not? 
By  holy  Paul,  they  love  his  Grace  but  lightly 
That  fill  his  ears  with  such  dissentious  rumours. 
Because  I  cannot  natter  and  speak  fair, 
Smile  in  men's  faces,  smooth,  deceive,  and  cog,7 
Duck  with  French  nods  and  apish  courtesy, 
I  must  be  held  a  rancorous  enemy. 
Cannot  a  plain  man  live  and  think  no  harm, 
But  thus  his  simple  truth  must  be  abused 
By  silken,  sly,  insinuating  Jacks  ? 

Riv.   To  whom  in  all  this  presence  speaks  your  Grace  ? 

Glos.   To  thee,  that  hast  nor  honesty  nor  grace. 
When  have  I  injured  thee?  when  done  thee  wrong?  — 
Or  thee  ?  —  or  thee  ?  —  or  any  of  your  faction  ? 
A  plague  upon  you  all !     His  royal  Grace  — ■ 
Whom  God  preserve  better  than  you  would  wish  !  — 
Cannot  be  quiet  scarce  a  breathing-while, 
But  you  must  trouble  him  with  lewd  8  complaints. 

Q.  Eliz.    Brother  of  Gloster,  you  mistake  the  matter. 
The  King,  of  his  own  royal  disposition, 

6  To  wa?-n  was  used  for  to  summon. 

7  To  smooth,  or  to  soothe,  is,  in  old  language,  to  insinuate  and  beguile 
with  flattery;  to  cog,  is  to  cajole  and  cheat.  Repeatedly  so.  See  Much 
Ado,  page  109,  note  8. 

8  Lewd  in  its  old  sense  of  knavish,  -wicked,  or  base. 


SCENE  ill.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  6? 

And  not  provoked  by  any  suitor  else ; 
Aiming,  belike,  at  your  interior  hatred, 
That  in  your  outward  action  shows  itself 
Against  my  children,  brothers,  and  myself, 
Makes  him  to  send,  that  thereby  he  may  gather 
The  ground  of  your  ill-will,  and  so  remove  it. 

Glos.    I  cannot  tell :  the  world  is  grown  so  bad. 
That  wrens  may  prey  where  eagles  dare  not  perch  : 
Since  every  Jack  became  a  gentleman, 
There's  many  a  gentle  person  made  a  Jack.9 

Q.  Eliz.    Come,  come,  we  know  your  meaning,  brother 
Gloster ; 
You  envy  my  advancement  and  my  friends'  : 
God  grant  we  never  may  have  need  of  you  ! 

Glos.    Meantime,  God  grants  that  we  have  need  of  you  : 
Our  brother  is  imprison'd  by  your  means, 
Myself  disgraced,  and  the  nobility 
^leld  in  contempt ;  while  great  promotions 
Are  daily  given  to  ennoble  those 
That  scarce,  some  two  days  since,  were  worth  a  noble. 

Q.  Eliz.    By  Him  that  raised  me  to  this  careful  height 
From  that  contented  hap  which  I  enjoy'd, 
I  never  did  incense  his  Majesty 
Against  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  but  have  been 
An  earnest  advocate  to  plead  for  him. 
My  lord,  you  do  me  shameful  injury, 
Falsely  to  draw  me  in  these  vile  suspects. 

Glos.   You  may  deny  that  you  were  not  the  cause 

9  Jack  was  a  common  term  of  contempt  or  reproach.  Richard  is  refer- 
ring to  the  Queen's  kindred,  her  sons,  the  Greys,  and  her  brothers,  the 
Woodvilles,  who,  by  her  marriage  with  the  King,  were  suddenly  raised 
from  a  far  inferior  rank  to  all  but  the  highest. 


68  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

Of  my  Lord  Hastings'  late  imprisonment. 

Riv.    She  may,  my  lord  ;  for  — 

Glos.    She  may,  Lord  Rivers  !  why,  who  knows  not  so? 
She  may  do  more,  sir,  than  denying  that : 
She  may  help  you  to  many  fair  preferments ;    - 
And  then  deny  her  aiding  hand  therein, 
And  lay  those  honours  on  your  high  desert. 
What  may  she  not  ?     She  may,  —  ay,  marry,  may  she,  — 

Riv.    What,  marry,  may  she  ? 

Glos.    What,  marry,  may  she  !  marry  with  a  king, 
A  bachelor,  a  handsome  stripling  too  : 
I  wis10  your  grandam  had  a  worser  match. 

Q.  Eliz.    My  Lord  of  Gloster,  I  have  too  long  borne 
Your  blunt  upbraidings  and  your  bitter  scoffs  : 
By  Heaven,  I  will  acquaint  his  Majesty 
With  those  gross  taunts  I  often  have  endured. 
I  had  rather  be  a  country  servant-maid 
Than  a  great  queen,  with  this  condition, 
To  be  so  baited,  scorn'd,  and  stormed  at : 

Enter  Queen  Margaret,  behind. 

Small  joy  have  I  in  being  England's  Queen. 

Q.  Mar.    \_Aside.~\    And  lessen'd  be  that  small,  God,  I  be- 
seech Him  ! 
Thy  honour,  state,  and  seat  is  due  to  me. 

Glos.   What  !  threat  you  me  with  telling  of  the  King? 
Tell  him,  and  spare  not :  look,  what  I  have  said 
I  will  avouch  in  presence  of  the  King  : 

10  Dyce  thinks  that  the  writers  of  Shakespeare's  time  used  /  wis  "  as 
equivalent  to  /  ween."  Here  it  seems  to  have  about  the  sense  of  /  think, 
I  guess,  or,  as  they  say  at  the  South,  /  reckon.  See  The  Merchant,  page  130, 
note  9. 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  69 

I  dare  adventure  to  be  sent  to  th'  Tower. 
'Tis  time  to  speak ;  my  pains  are  quite  forgot. 

Q.  Mar.    \_Aside^\    Out,    devil !    I    remember   them    too 
well : 
Thou  kill'dst  my  husband  Henry  in  the  Tower, 
And  Edward,  my  poor  son,  at  Tewksbury. 

Glos.    Ere  you  were  queen,  ay,  or  your  husband  king, 
I  was  a  pack-horse  in  his  great  affairs ; 
A  weeder-out  of  his  proud  adversaries, 
A  liberal  rewarder  of  his  friends  : 
To  royalize  his  blood  I  spilt  mine  own. 

Q.  Mar.    \_Aside.~\    Ay,  and  much  better  blood  than  his 
or  thine. 

Glos.   In  all  which  time  you  and  your  husband  Grey 
Were  factious  for  the  House  of  Lancaster  ;  — 
And,  Rivers,  so  were  you  :  —  was  not  your  husband 
In  Margaret's  battle  ll  at  Saint  Alban's  slain? 
Let  me  put  in  your  minds,  if  you  forget, 
What  you  have  been  ere  now,  and  what  you  are  ; 
Withal,  what  I  have  been,  and  what  I  am. 

Q.  Mar.    \_Aside.~]    A  murderous  villain,  and  so  still  thou 
art. 

11  Battle  here  probably  means  army.  A  common  use  of  the  word  in  old 
writers.  —  Sir  John  Grey,  the  Queen's  former  husband,  fell  in  what  is  known 
as  the  second  battle  of  Saint  Alban's,  which  took  place  February  18,  1461. 
In  that  battle  the  Lancastrians  were  victorious,  Queen  Margaret  being  at 
the  head  of  the  army  on  that  side.  Their  advantage,  however,  was  much 
more  than  lost  at  the  great  battle  of  Towton,  fought  on  the  29th  of  March 
following,  and  one  of  the  fiercest  and  bloodiest  in  the  long  series  of  wars 
known  as  the  Wars  of  the  Roses.  Upon  this  triumph  of  the  Yorkists,  many 
of  the  Lancastrians,  and  among  them  the  Greys,  were  attainted,  and  stripped 
of  their  possessions.  It  was  upon  her  throwing  herself  at  the  feet  of  King 
Edward,  and  soliciting  a  reversal  of  the  attainder  in  behalf  of  her  destitute 
children,  that  the  Lady  Grey  first  won  his  pity,  which  soon  warmed  into 
love.     See  Third  Part  of  Henry  the  Sixth,  iii.  2. 


JO  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

GIos.    Poor  Clarence  did  forsake  his  father,  Warwick ; 
Ay,  and  forswore  himself,  —  which  Jesu  pardon  !  — 

Q.  Mar.    \_Aside.~\    Which  God  revenge  ! 

Glos.    —  To  fight  on  Edward's  party,  for  the  crown  ; 
And  for  his  meed,  poor  lord,  he  is  mew'd  up. 
I  would  to  God  my  heart  were  flint,  like  Edward's  ; 
Or  Edward's  soft  and  pitiful,  like  mine  : 
I  am  too  childish-foolish  for  this  world. 

Q.  Ma?\    [Aside.']     Hie   thee   to    Hell   for   shame,    and 
leave  this  world, 
Thou  cacodemon  ! 12  there  thy  kingdom  is. 

Riv.    My  Lord  of  Gloster,  in  those  busy  days 
Which  here  you  urge  to  prove  us  enemies, 
We  follow'd  then  our  lord,  our  lawful  King : 
So  should  we  you,  if  you  should  be  our  king. 

Glos.    If  I  should  be  !     I  had  rather  be  a  pedler : 
Far  be  it  from  my  heart,  the  thought  of  it ! 

Q.  Eliz.    As  little  joy,  my  lord,  as  you  suppose 
You  should  enjoy,  were  you  this  country's  King, 
As  little  joy  may  you  suppose  in  me, 
That  I  enjoy,  being  the  Queen  thereof. 

Q.  Mar.    [Aside. .]    As  little  joy  enjoys  the  Queen  thereof; 
For  I  am  she,  and  altogether  joyless. 

I  can  no  longer  hold  me  patient.  —  [Advancing. 

Hear  me,  you  wrangling  pirates,  that  fall  out 
In  sharing  that  which  you  have  pill'd  13  from  me  ! 
Which  of  you  trembles  not  that  looks  on  me  ? 
If  not,  that,  I  being  queen,  you  bow  like  subjects, 
Yet  that,  by  you  deposed,  you  quake  like  rebels?  — 

12  A  cacodemon  is  an  evil  spirit,  a  fiend.     The  word  is  Greek. 

13  To  pill  is  to  pillage.     It  is  often  used  with  to  poll  or  strip.     "  Kildare 
did  use  to  pill  and  poll  his  friendes,  tenants,  and  reteyners."  —  HOLINSHED. 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  7 1 

Ah,  gentle  villain,  do  not  turn  away  ! 

Glos.    Foul  wrinkled  witch,  what  makest14  thou  in  my 
sight  ? 

Q.  Mar.    But  repetition  of  what  thou  hast  marr'd ; 
That  will  I  make  before  I  let  thee  go. 

Glos.   Wert  thou  not  banished  on  pain  of  death  ? 15 

Q.  Afar.    I  was  ; 
But  I  do  find  more  pain  in  banishment 
Than  death  can  yield  me  here  by  my  abode. 
A  husband  and  a  son  thou  owest  to  me,  — 
And  thou  a  kingdom,  —  all  of  you  allegiance  : 
The  sorrow  that  I  have,  by  right  is  yours ; 
And  all  the  pleasures  you  usurp  are  mine. 

Glos.   The  curse  my  noble  father  laid  on  thee, 
When  thou  didst  crown  his  warlike  brows  with  paper, 
And  with  thy  scorns  drew'st  rivers  from  his  eyes  ; 
And  then,  to  dry  them,  gavest  the  duke  a  clout 
Steep'd  in  the  faultless  blood  of  pretty  Rutland  ;  — 
His  curses,  then  from  bitterness  of  soul 
Denounced  against  thee,  are  all  fall'n  upon  thee ; 
And  God,  not  we,  hath  plagued  thy  bloody  deed.16 

Q.  Eliz.    So  just  is  God,  to  right  the  innocent. 

14  "  What  makest  thou  "  is  old  language  for  "  what  doest  thou."  Here  it 
means,  "  what  business  have  you  in  this  place  ?  "  See  As  You  Like  It, 
page  57,  note  4.  —  Gentle,  in  the  line  before,  is  high-born. 

is  Margaret  fled  into  France  after  the  battle  of  Hexham,  in  1464,  and 
Edward  issued  a  proclamation  prohibiting  any  of  his  subjects  from  aiding 
her  return,  or  harbouring  her,  should  she  attempt  to  revisit  England.  She 
remained  abroad  till  April,  1471,  when  she  landed  at  Weymouth.  After 
the  battle  of  Tewksbury,  in  May,  1471,  she  was  confined  in  the  Tower, 
where  she  continued  a  prisoner  till  1475,  when  she  was  ransomed  by  her 
father  Reignier,  and  removed  to  France,  where  she  died  in  1482. 

16  The  matter  here  referred  to  is  set  forth  at  length  in  the  Third  Part  of 
Henry  the  Sixth,  Act  i.  scene  4. 


72  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

Hast.    O,  'twas  the  foulest  deed  to  slay  that  babe, 
And  the  most  merciless  that  e'er  was  heard  of ! 

Riv.   Tyrants  themselves  wept  when  it  was  reported. 

Dor.    No  man  but  prophesied  revenge  for  it. 

Buck.    Northumberland,  then  present,  wept  to  see  it. 

Q.  Mar.    What  !  were  you  snarling  all  before  I  came, 
Ready  to  catch  each  other  by  the  throat, 
And  turn  you  all  your  hatred  now  on  me  ? 
Did  York's  dread  curse  prevail  so  much  with  Heaven, 
That  Henry's  death,  my  lovely  Edward's  death, 
Their  kingdom's  loss,  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  Edward  my  son,  that  was  Prince  of  Wales, 
Die  in  his  youth  by  like  untimely  violence  ! 
Thyself  a  queen,  for  me  that  was  a  queen, 
Outlive  thy  glory,  like  my  wretched  self ! 
Long  mayst  thou  live  to  wail  thy  children's  loss ; 
And  see  another,  as  I  see  thee  now, 
Deck'd  in  thy  rights,  as  thou  art  stall'd  in  mine  ! 
Long  die  thy  happy  days  before  thy  death; 
And,  after  many  lengthen'd  hours  of  grief, 
Die  neither  mother,  wife,  nor  England's  Queen  !  — 
Rivers  and  Dorset,  you  were  standers-by,  — 
And  so  wast  thou,  Lord  Hastings,  —  when  my  son 
Was  stabb'd  with  bloody  daggers  :  God,  I  pray  Him, 
That  none  of  you  may  live  his  natural  age, 
But  by  some  unlook'd  accident  cut  off ! 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  73 

Glos.    Have     done    thy    charm,    thou    hateful    wither'd 
hag! 

Q.  Mar.    And  leave  out  thee  ?  stay,  dog,  for  thou  shalt 
hear  me. 
If  Heaven  have  any  grievous  plague  in  store 
Exceeding  those  that  I  can  wish  upon  thee, 
O,  let  them 17  keep  it  till  thy  sins  be  ripe, 
And  then  hurl  down  their  indignation 
On  thee,  the  troubler  of  the  poor  world's  peace  ! 
The  worm  of  conscience  still  be-gnaw  thy  soul ! 
Thy  friends  suspect  for  traitors  while  thou  livest. 
And  take  deep  traitors  for  thy  dearest  friends  ! 
No  sleep  close  up  that  deadly  eye  of  thine, 
Unless  it  be  while  some  tormenting  dream 
Affrights  thee  with  a  hell  of  ugly  devils  ! 
Thou  elvish-mark'd,  abortive,  rooting  hog  ! 18 
Thou  that  wast  seal'd  in  thy  nativity 
The  slave  of  Nature  and  the  son  of  Hell ! 
Thou  slander  of  thy  heavy  mother's  womb  ! 
Thou  loathed  issue  of  thy  father's  loins  ! 
Thou  rag  of  honour  !   thou  detested  — 

Glos.    Margaret. 

Q.  Mar.  Richard  ! 

Glos.  Ha ! 

Q.  Mar.  I  call  thee  not. 

Glos.    I  cry  thee  mercy,  then ;  for  I  did  think 

17  Them  refers  to  Heaven,  the  latter  being  a  collective  noun. 

18  She  calls  him  hog,  in  allusion  to  his  cognizance,  which  was  a  boar. 
"  The  expression,"  says  Warburton,  "  is  fine :  remembering  her  youngest 
son,  she  alludes  to  the  ravage  which  hogs  make  with  the  finest  flowers  in 
gardens ;  and  intimating  that  Elizabeth  was  to  expect  no  other  treatment 
for  her  sons."  —  Elvish-mark 'd  refers  to  the  old  belief  that  deformities  of 
person  were  the  work  of  malignant  or  mischievous  fairies  or  elves. 


74  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

That  thou  hadst  call'd  me  all  these  bitter  names. 

Q.  Mar.   Why,  so  I  did  ;  but  look'd  for  no  reply. 
O,  let  me  make  the  period  to  my  curse  ! 

Glos.    Tis  done  by  me,  and  ends  in  —  Margaret. 

Q.  Eliz.   Thus  have  you  breathed  your  curse  against  your- 
self. 

Q.  Mar.   Poor  painted  Queen,  vain  flourish  of  my  fortune  ! 
Why  strew'st  thou  sugar  on  that  bottled  spider,19 
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  that  poisonous  bunch-back'd  toad. 

Hast.    False-boding  woman,  end  thy  frantic  curse, 
Lest  to  thy  harm  thou  move  our  patience. 

Q.  Mar.   Foul  shame  upon  you  !  you  have  all  moved  mine. 

Riv.   Were  you  well  served,  you  would  be  taught  your  duty. 

Q.  Mar.   To  serve  me  well,  you  all  should  do  me  duty, 
Teach  me  to  be  your  queen,  and  you  my  subjects  : 
O,  serve  me  well,  and  teach  yourselves  that  duty  ! 

Dor.    Dispute  not  with  her ;  she  is  lunatic. 

Q.  Mar.    Peace,  master  marquess,  you  are  malapert : 
Your  fire-new 20  stamp  of  honour  is  scarce  current : 
O,  that  your  young  nobility  could  judge 
What  'twere  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. 

Glos.    Good  counsel,  marry  :  —  learn  it,  learn  it,  marquess. 

Dor.    It  touches  you,  my  lord,  as  much  as  me. 

Glos.    Ay,  and  much  more  ;  but  I  was  born  so  high  : 

19  Alluding  to  Richard's  form  and  venom.    A  bottled  spider  is  a  large, 
bloated  spider  ;  supposed  to  contain  venom  in  proportion  to  its  size. 

20  Fire-new  is  the  old  term  for  what  we  call  brand-new. 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  75 

Our  eyrie21  buildeth  in  the  cedar's  top, 

And  dallies  with  the  wind,  and  scorns  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  wrath 
Hath  in  eternal  darkness  folded  up. 
Your  eyrie  buildeth  in  our  eyrie's  nest :  — 
O  God,  that  see'st  it,  do  not  suffer  it ; 
As  it  was  won  with  blood,  lost  be  it  so  ! 

Riv.    Peace,  peace,  for  shame,  if  not  for  charity. 

Q.  Mar.   Urge  neither  charity  nor  shame  to  me : 
Uncharitably  with  me  have  you  dealt, 
And  shamefully  by  you  my  hopes  are  butcher'd. 
My  charity  is  outrage,  life  my  shame  ; 22 
And  in  that  shame  still  live  my  sorrow's  rage  ! 

Buck.    Have  done,  have  done. 

Q.  Mar.    O  princely  Buckingham,  I'll  kiss  thy  hand, 
In  sign  of  league  and  amity  with  thee  : 
Now  fair  befall  thee  and  thy  noble  House  ! 
Thy  garments  are  not  spotted  with  our  blood, 
Nor  thou  within  the  compass  of  my  curse. 

Buck.    Nor  no  one  here  ;   for  curses  never  pass 
The  lips  of  those  that  breathe  them  in  the  air. 

Q.  Ma?\    I'll  not  believe  but  they  ascend  the  sky, 
And  there  awake  God's  gentle-sleeping  peace. 
O  Buckingham,  take  heed  of  yonder  dog  ! 

21  Eyrie  for  brood.  This  word  properly  signified  a  brood  of  eagles,  or 
hawks  ;  though  in  later  times  often  used  for  the  nest  of  those  birds  of  prey. 
Its  etymology  is  from  eyren,  eggs. 

22  "  Outrage  is  the  only  charity  shown  me,  and  a  life  of  shame,  dishonour, 
is  all  the  life  permitted  me."  "My  charity"  may  mean  either  the  charity 
done  by  me  or  that  done  to  me  ;  here  it  means  the  latter.  For  similar  in- 
stances of  construction,  see  The  Tempest,  page  138,  note  23. 


y6  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

Look,  when  he  fawns  he  bites  ;  and,  when  he  bites, 

His  venom  tooth  will  rankle  to  the  death  : 

Have  not  to  do  with  him,  beware  of  him ; 

Sin,  death,  and  Hell  have  set  their  marks  on  him ; 

And  all  their  ministers  attend  on  him. 

Glos.   What  doth  she  say,  my  Lord  of  Buckingham? 

Buck.    Nothing  that  I  respect,  my  gracious  lord. 

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  sorrow, 
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. 

Hast.    My  hair  doth  stand  on  end  to  hear  her  curses. 

Riv.   And  so  doth  mine  :  I  muse  23  why  she's  at  liberty. 

Glos.    I  cannot  blame  her  :  by  God's  holy  Mother, 
She  hath  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  knowledge. 

Glos.   Yet  you  have  all  the  vantage  of  her  wrong. 
I  was  too  hot  to  do  somebody  good 
That  is  too  cold  in  thinking  of  it  now. 
Marry,  as  for  Clarence,  he  is  well  repaid; 
He  is  frank 'd  up  24  to  fatting  for  his  pains  : 
God  pardon  them  that  are  the  cause  of  it ! 

Riv.    A  virtuous  and  a  Christian-like  conclusion, 
To  pray  for  them  that  haye  done  scathe  to  us. 

23  To  muse  is,  in  old  usage,  to  marvel  or  to  -wonder. 

24  a  frank  is  a  pen  or  coop  in  which  hogs  and  other  animals  were  con- 
fined while  fatting.  To  be  franked  up  was  to  be  closely  confined.  To 
f ranch,  or  frank,  was  to  stuff,  to  cram,  or  fatten. 


SCENE  in.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  77 

Glos.    So  do  I  ever,  being  well  advised  ;  25  — 
[Aside. ~\    For,  had  I  cursed  now,  I  had  cursed  myself. 

Ente?'  Catesby. 

Cafes.    Madam,  his  Majesty  doth  call  for  you,  — ■ 
And  for  your  Grace,  —  and  you,  my  noble  lords. 

Q.  Eliz.    Catesby,  I  come.  —  Lords,  will  you  go  with  me  ? 

Riv.   We  wait  upon  your  Grace. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Gloster. 

Glos.    I  do  the  wrong,  and  first  begin  to  brawl. 
The  secret  mischiefs  that  I  set  abroach 
I  lay  unto  the  grievous  -charge  of  others. 
Clarence,  whom  I  indeed  have  laid  in  darkness, 
I  do  beweep  to  many  simple  gulls ; 
Namely,  to  Hastings,  Stanley,  Buckingham ; 
And  say  it  is  the  Queen  and  her  allies 
That  stir  the  King  against  the  duke  my  brother. 
Now,  they  believe  it ;  and  withal  whet  me 
To  be  revenged  on  Rivers,  Vaughan,  Grey : 
But  then  I  sigh  ;  and,  with  a  piece  of  Scripture, 
Tell  them  that  God  bids  us  do  good  for  evil : 
And  thus  I  clothe  my  naked  villainy 
With  old  odd  ends  stol'n  out  of  Holy  Writ ; 
And  seem  a  saint,  when  most  I  play  the  devil. 
But,  soft !  here  come  my  executioners.  — 

Enter  two  Murderers. 

How  now,  my  hardy,  stout-resolved  26  mates  ! 

25  "  Being  well  advised  "  is  the  same  as  having  well  considered,  or,  as  we 
now  say,  speaking  or  acting  advisedly.  See  The  Merchant,  page  i8o, 
note  i.  —  Scathe,  in  the  line  before,  is  an  old  word  for  harm. 

26  Stout-resolved  is  the  same  in  sense  as  boldly  resolute  ;  or,  as  we  might 
say,  men  of  iron  resolution. 


?8  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

Are  you  now  going  to  dispatch  this  thing  ? 

i  Murd.    We    are,    my   lord ;    and    come    to    have    the 
warrant, 
That  we  may  be  admitted  where  he  is. 

Glos.    Well  thought  upon ;  I  have  it  here  about  me  : 

[  Gives  the  warrant. 
When  you  have  done,  repair  to  Crosby-place. 
But,  sirs,  be  sudden  in  the  execution, 
Withal  obdurate,  do  not  hear  him  plead ; 
For  Clarence  is  well-spoken,  and  perhaps 
May  move  your  hearts  to  pity,  if  you  mark  him. 

i  Murd.   Tut,  tut,  my  lord,  we  will  not  stand  to  prate ; 
Talkers  are  no  good  doers  :  be  assured 
We  go  to  use  our  hands,  and  not  our  tongues. 

Glos.   Your  eyes  drop  millstones,27  when  fools'  eyes  drop 
tears  : 
I  like  you,  lads  ;  about  your  business  straight ; 
Go,  go,  dispatch. 

i  Murd.  We  will,  my  noble  lord.  \_Exeunt. 

Scene  IV.  —  The  Same.     A  Room  in  the  Tower. 
Enter  Clarence  and  Brakenbury. 

Brak.    Why  looks  your  Grace  so  heavily  to-day? 

Clar.    O,  I  have  pass'd  a  miserable  night, 
So  full  of  fearful  dreams,  of  ugly  sights, 
That,  as  I  am  a  Christian  faithful  man, 
I  would  not  spend  another  such  a  night, 

27  Weeping  millstones  was  a  proverbial  phrase  used  of  persons  not  apt 
to  weep.  It  occurs  in  the  tragedy  of  Cczsar  and  Pompey,  1607.  "  Men's  eyes 
must  mill-stones  drop,  when  fools  shed  tears." 


scene  iv.  KING   RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  79 

Though  'twere  to  buy  a  world  of  happy  days ; 
So  full  of  dismal  terror  was  the  time  ! 

Brak.   What  was  your  dream,  my  lord  ?  I  pray  you,  tell  me. 

Clar.    Methought  that  I  had  broken  from  the  Tower, 
And  was  embark'd  to  cross  to  Burgundy ; l 
And,  in  my  company,  my  brother  Gloster  j 
Who  from  my  cabin  tempted  me  to  walk 
Upon  the  hatches  :  thence  we  look'd  toward  England, 
And  cited  up  a  thousand  heavy  times, 
During  the  wars  of  York  and  Lancaster, 
That  had  befall'n  us.     As  we  paced  along 
Upon  the  giddy  footing  of  the  hatches, 
Methought  that  Gloster  stumbled ;  and,  in  falling, 
Struck  me,  that  thought  to  stay  him,  overboard 
Into  the  tumbling  billows  of  the  main. 
O  Lord  !  methought,  what  pain  it  was  to  drown  ! 
What  dreadful  noise  of  water  in  mine  ears  ! 
What  ugly  sights  of  death  within  mine  eyes  ! 
Methought  I  saw  a  thousand  fearful  wrecks ; 
A  thousand  men  that  fishes  gnaw'd  upon ; 
Wedges  of  gold,  great  anchors,  heaps  of  pearl, 
Inestimable  stones,  unvalued2  jewels, 
All  scattered  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea : 
Some  lay  in  dead  men's  skulls ;  and,  in  those  holes 
Where  eyes  did  once  inhabit,  there  were  crept  — 
As  'twere  in  scorn  of  eyes  —  reflecting  gems, 
That  woo'd  the  slimy  bottom  of  the  deep, 
And  mock'd  the  dead  bones  that  lay  scatter'd  by. 

1  Clarence  was  desirous  to  aid  his  sister  Margaret  against  the  French 
King,  who  invaded  her  jointure  lands  after  the  death  of  her  husband,  Charles 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  who  was  killed  at  Nanci,  in  January,  1477. 

2  Unvalued  for  invaluable,  not  to  be  valued,  inestimable. 


80  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  act  I. 

Brak.    Had  you  such  leisure  in  the  time  of  death 
To  gaze  upon  the  secrets  of  the  deep  ? 

Clar.    Methought  I  had  ;  and  often  did  I  strive 
To  yield  the  ghost :  but  still  the  envious  3  flood 
Stopt-in  my  soul,  and  would  not  let  it  forth 
To  find  the  empty,  vast,  and  wandering  air ; 
But  smother'd  it  within  my  panting  bulk,4 
Which  almost  burst  to  belch  it  in  the  sea. 

Brak.    Awaked  you  not  with  this  sore  agony? 

Clar.    No,  no,  my  dream  was  lengthen'd  after  life  : 
O,  then  began  the  tempest  to  my  soul ! 
I  pass'd,  methought,  the  melancholy  flood, 
With  that  grim  ferryman  which  poets  write  of, 
Unto  the  kingdom  of  perpetual  night. 
The  first  that  there  did  greet  my  stranger  soul 
Was  my  great  father-in-law,  renowned  Warwick ; 
Who  cried  aloud,  What  scourge  for  perjury 
Can  this  dark  monarchy  afford  false  Clarence  ? 
And  so  he  vanish'd  :  then  came  wandering  by 
A  shadow  like  an  angel,  with  bright  hair 
Dabbled  in  blood ;  and  he  shriek'd  out  aloud, 

3  Envious  in  the  sense  of  malicious,  which  was  then  its  more  common 
meaning.  So  in  the  preceding  scene :  "  The  envious  slanders  of  her  false 
accusers." 

4  Bulk  was  used  for  breast.  So  in  Hamlet,  ii.  2 :  "  He  raised  a  sigh  so 
piteous  and  profound,  that  it  did  seem  to  shatter  all  his  bulk,  and  end  his 
being."  —  Vast,  in  the  line  before,  is  void  or  waste  ;  like  the  Latin  vastus. — 
The  "  wandering  air  "  is  the  aerial  expanse  where  the  soul  would  be  free  to 
use  its  wings,  and  roam  at  large.  So  in  the  description  of  Raphael's  voy- 
age to  the  Earth,  Paradise  Lost,  v.  267  : 

He  speeds,  and  through  the  vast  ethereal  sky 
Sails  between  worlds  and  worlds,  with  steady  wing, 
Now  on  the  polar  winds,  then  with  quick  fan 
Winnows  the  buxom  air. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  8 1 

Clarence  is  coi7ie,  false,  fleeting?  perjured  Clarence, 
That  stabb 'd  me  in  the  field  by  Tewksbury  : 
Seize  on  him,  Furies,  take  him  to  your  torments  / 
With  that,  methought,  a  legion  of  foul  fiends 
Environ'd  me,  and  howled  in  mine  ears 
Such  hideous  cries,  that,  with  the  very  noise, 
I  trembling  waked,  and,  for  a  season  after, 
Could  not  believe  but  that  I  was  in  Hell ; 
Such  terrible  impression  made  my  dream. 

Brak.    No  marvel,  lord,  though  it  affrighted  you ; 
I  am  afraid,  methinks,  to  hear  you  tell  it. 

Clar.    O  Brakenbury,  I  have  done  those  things, 
That  now  give  evidence  against  my  soul, 
For  Edward's  sake  ;  and  see  how  he  requites  me  !  — 
O  God  !  if  my  deep  prayers  cannot  appease  Thee, 
But  Thou  wilt  be  avenged  on  my  misdeeds, 
Yet  execute  Thy  will  on  me  alone  ; 
O,  spare  my  guiltless  wife  6  and  my  poor  children  !  — 
Keeper,  I  pr'ythee,  sit  by  me  awhile  ; 
My  soul  is  heavy,  and  I  fain  would  sleep. 

Brak.   I  will,  my  lord  :  God  give  your  Grace  good  rest !  — 

[Clarence  sleeps  in  a  chair. 
Sorrow  breaks  seasons  and  reposing  hours, 
Makes  the  night  morning,  and  the  noontide  night. 
Princes  have  but  their  titles  for  their  glories, 
An  outward  honour  for  an  inward  toil ; 
And,  for  unfelt  imaginations, 


5  Fleeting  ox  flitting,  in  old  language,  was  used  for  uncertain,  inconstant, 
fluctuating.  Clarence  broke  his  oath  with  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  and  joined 
the  army  of  his  brother  Edward. 

6  The  wife  of  Clarence  died  before  he  was  apprehended  and  confined  in 
the  Tower.    See  page  52,  note  23. 


82  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

They  often  feel  a  world  of  restless  cares  : 7 
So  that,  between  their  titles  and  low  name, 
There's  nothing  differs  but  the  outward  fame. 

Enter  the  two  Murderers. 

i  Murd.    Ho  !  who's  here  ? 

Brak.   What  wouldst  thou,  fellow?  and  how  earnest  thou 
hither  ? 

i  Murd.    I  would  speak  with  Clarence,  and  I  came  hither 
on  my  legs. 

Brak.   What,  so  brief? 

2  Murd.    'Tis  better,  sir,  than  to  be  tedious.  —  Let  him 
see  our  commission  ;  and  talk  no  more. 

[i  Murd.  gives  a  paper  to  Brak.,  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. 
Here  are  the  keys  ;  there  sits  the  duke  asleep  : 
I'll  to  the  King ;  and  signify  to  him 
That  thus  I  have  resign'd  to  you  my  charge. 

i  Murd.   You  may,  sir ;  'tis  a  point  of  wisdom  :  fare  you 
well.  \_Exit  Brakenbury. 

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

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

2  Murd.   When  he  wakes  !  why,  fool,  he  shall  never  wake 
till  the  judgment-day. 

i  Murd.   Why,  then  he'll  say  we  stabb'd  him  sleeping. 

7  For  imaginary  pleasures  which  are  unfelt  by  them,  they  often  endure  a 
great  burden  of  restless  cares,  which  they  feel,  to  their  cost. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  83 

2  Murd.  The  urging  of  that  word  judgment  hath  bred  a 
kind  of  remorse  in  me. 

1  Murd.    What,  art  thou  afraid  ? 

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

1  Murd.    I  thought  thou  hadst  been  resolute. 

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

1  Murd.  I'll  back  to  the  Duke  of  Gloster,  and  tell  him 
so. 

2  Murd.  Nay,  I  pr'ythee,  stay  a  little  :  I  hope  my  holy 
humour  will  change ;  it  was  wont  to  hold  me  but  while  one 
tells  twenty. 

1  Murd.    How  dost  thou  feel  thyself  now  ? 

2  Murd.  Faith,  some  certain  dregs  of  conscience  are  yet 
within  me. 

1  Murd.    Remember  our  reward,  when  the  deed's  done. 

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

1  Murd.    Where's  thy  conscience  now? 

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

1  Murd.  So,  when  he  opens  his  purse  to  give  us  our  re- 
ward, thy  conscience  flies  out. 

2  Murd.  Tis  no  matter ;  let  it  go ;  there's  few  or  none 
will  entertain  it. 

1  Murd.   What  if  it  come  to  thee  asrain  ? 

o 

2  Murd.  I'll  not  meddle  with  it ;  it  makes  a  man  a  cow- 
ard :  a  man  cannot  steal,  but  it  accuseth  him ;  a  man  can- 
not swear,  but  it  checks  him  :  'tis  a  blushing  shame-faced 
spirit  that  mutinies  in  a  man's  bosom;  it  fills  one  full  of 
obstacles  :  it  made  me  once  restore  a  purse  of  gold,  that  by 
chance  I  found ;  it  beggars  any  man  that  keeps  it :  it  is 
turn'd  out  of  all  towns  and  cities  for  a  dangerous  thing ;  and 


84  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

every  man  that  means  to  live  well  endeavours  to  trust  to 
himself  and  live  without  it. 

i  Murd.  Zounds,  it  is  even  now  at  my  elbow,  persuading 
me  not  to  kill  the  duke. 

2  Murd.  Take  the  Devil  in  thy  mind,  and  believe  him  not : 8 
he  would  insinuate  with  thee  but  to  make  thee  sigh. 

i  Murd.    I  am  strong-framed  ;  he  cannot  prevail  with  me. 

2  Micrd.  Spoke  like  a  tall  fellow9  that  respects  his  reputa- 
tion.    Come,  shall  we  fall  to  work  ? 

i  Murd.  Take  him  over  the  costard  with  the  hilts 10  of 
thy  sword,  and  then  throw  him  into  the  malmsey-butt  in  the 
next  room. 

2  Murd.    O  excellent  device  !  and  make  a  sop  n  of  him. 

i  Murd.    Soft !  he  wakes. 

2  Murd.    Strike  ! 

i  Murd.    No,  we'll  reason 12  with  him. 

8  Him  refers  to  conscie?zce,  not  to  Devil.  —  To  insinuate  with  is  to  ?nake 
friends  with,  to  play  upon,  to  beguile.  The  idea  of  conscience  trying  to 
wheedle  and  steal  a  man  out  of  the  Devil's  leading  is  a  most  Shakesperian 
stroke  of  art.  And  the  grim  humour  of  these  hired  cut-throats  in  thus 
jesting  away  the  approaches  of  preventive  remorse  is  a  capital  instance  of 
the  Poet's  inwardness  with  Nature.  For  even  so  men  often  laugh  and 
sport  themselves  through  the  perpetration  of  crime ;  the  supremacy  of  the 
moral  law,  the  self-assertive  rights  of  conscience  instinctively  prompting 
them  to  such  tricks  of  evasion.  I  can  hardly  think  of  any  one  particular 
wherein  Shakespeare's  moral  sanity  of  genius  is  more  pregnantly  mani- 
fested. 

9  That  is,  a  bold,  stout-hearted  fellow.  See  Twelfth  Night,  page  35, 
note  4. 

10  Hills,  the  plural  form,  was  commonly  used  where  we  should  use  hilt. 
—  Costard,  of  course,  is  put  for  head.  The  word  properly  means  apple,  and 
was  thus  applied  from  similarity  of  shape. 

11  A  sop  is  anything  soaked  or  steeped  in  liquor. 

12  Here,  as  often,  to  reason  is  to  talk  or  converse.  See  The  Merchant, 
page  126,  note  3.  —  Soft!  second  line  before,  is  the  old  exclamative  for 
hold!  stay!  or  not  too  fast  / 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  85 

Clar.    [  Waking."]   Where  art  thou,  keeper?  give  me  a  cup 
of  wine. 

1  Murd.   You  shall  have  wine  enough,  my  lord,  anon. 

Clar.    In  God's  name,  what  art  thou  ? 

1  Murd.    A  man,  as  you  are. 

Clar.    But  not,  as  I  am,  royal.       • 

I  Murd.    Nor  you,  as  we  are,  loyal. 

Clar.   Thy  voice  is  thunder,  but  thy  looks  are  humble. 

1  Murd.    My  voice  is  now  the   King's,   my  looks  mine 
own. 

Clar.    How  darkly  and  how  deadly  dost  thou  speak  ! 
Your  eyes  do  menace  me  :  why  look  you  pale  ? 
Who  sent  you  hither  ?     Wherefore  do  you  come  ? 

Both  Murd.   To,  to,  to  — 

Clar.    To  murder  me  ? 

Both  Murd.    Ay,  ay. 

Clar.   You  scarcely  have  the  hearts  to  tell  me  so, 
And  therefore  cannot  have  the  hearts  to  do  it. 
Wherein,  my  friends,  have  I  offended  you  ? 

1  Murd.    Offended  us  you  have  not,  but  the  King. 
Clar.    I  shall  be  reconciled  to  him  again. 

2  Murd.    Never,  my  lord  ;  therefore  prepare  to  die. 
Clar.    Are  you  call'd  forth  from  out  a  world  of  men    . 

To  slay  the  innocent  ?     What  is  my  offence  ? 
Where  is  the  evidence  that  doth  accuse  me  ? 
What  lawful  quest 13  have  given  their  verdict  up 
Unto  the  frowning  judge  ?  or  who  pronounced 
The  bitter  sentence  of  poor  Clarence'  death? 
Before  I  be  convict 14  by  course  of  law, 

13  Quest  here  means  a  jury  of  inquest. 

14  Convict  for  convicted.    Such  shortened  preterites  are  very  frequent. 
See  The  Tempest,  page  56,  note  43. 


86  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD,  ACT  L 

To  threaten  me  with  death  is  most  unlawful. 
I  charge  you,  as  you  hope  to  have  redemption 
By  Christ's  dear  blood  shed  for  our  grievous  sins, 
That  you  depart,  and  lay  no  hands  on  me  : 
The  deed  you  undertake  is  damnable. 

i  Murd.   What  we  will  do,  we  do  upon  command. 

2  Murd.   And  he  that  hath  commanded  is  our  King. 

Clar.    Erroneous  vassals  !  the  great  King  of  kings 
Hath  in  the  table  of  His  law  commanded 
That  thou  shalt  do  no  murder  :  will  you,  then, 
Spurn  at  His  edict,  and  fulfil  a  man's  ? 
Take  heed ;  for  He  holds  vengeance  in  His  hand, 
To  hurl  upon  their  heads  that  break  His  law. 

2  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. 

i  Murd.    And,  like  a  traitor  to  the  name  of  God, 
Didst  break  that  vow ;  and  with  thy  treacherous  blade 
Unripp'dst  the  bowels  of  thy  sovereign's  son. 

2  Murd.    Whom  thou  wast  sworn  to  cherish  and  defend. 

I  Murd.    How  canst  thou  urge  God's  dreadful  law  to  us, 
When  thou  hast  broke  it  in  such  dear  degree? 

Clar.    Alas  !  for  whose  sake  did  I  that  ill  deed? 
For  Edward,  for  my  brother,  for  his  sake  : 
He  sends  you  not  to  murder  me  for  this ; 
For  in  that  sin  he  is  as  deep  as  I. 
If  God  will  be  avenged  for  the  deed, 
O,  know  you  yet,  He  doth  it  publicly : 
Take  not  the  quarrel  from  His  powerful  arm ; 
He  needs  no  indirect  nor  lawless  course 
To  cut  off  those  that  have  offended  Him. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  8/ 

i  Murd.    Who  made  thee,  then,  a  bloody  minister, 
When  gallant- springing  brave  Plantagenet, 
That  princely  novice,  was  struck  dead  by  thee  ? 

Clar.    My  brother's  love,  the  Devil,  and  my  rage. 

i  Murd.    Thy  brother's  love,  our  duty,  and  thy  fault, 
Provoke  us  hither  now  to  slaughter  thee. 

Clar.    If  you  do  love  my  brother,  hate  not  me  ; 
I  am  his  brother,  and  I  love  him  well. 
If  you  are  hired  for  meed,  go  back  again, 
And  I  will  send  you  to  my  brother  Gloster, 
Who  shall  reward  you  better  for  my  life 
Than  Edward  will  for  tidings  of  my  death. 

2  Murd.   You  are  deceived,  your  brother  Gloster  hates 
you. 

Clar.    O,  no,  he  loves  me,  and  he  holds  me  dear : 
Go  you  to  him  from  me. 

Both  Murd.  Ay,  so  we  will. 

Clar.   Tell  him,  when  that  our  princely  father  York 
Bless'd  his  three  sons  with  his  victorious  arm, 
And  charged  us  from  his  soul  to  love  each  other, 
He  little  thought  of  this  divided  friendship  : 
Bid  Gloster  think  of  this,  and  he  will  weep. 

i  Murd.    Ay,  millstones  ;  as  he  lesson'd  us  to  weep. 

Clar.    O,  do  not  slander  him,  for  he  is  kind. 

i  Micrd.    Right, 
As  snow  in  harvest.     Come,  you  deceive  yourself: 
'Tis  he  that  sends  us  to  destroy  you  here. 

Clar.  It  cannot  be  ;  for  he  bewept  my  fortune, 
And  hugg'd  me  in  his  arms,  and  swore,  with  sobs, 
That  he  would  labour  my  delivery. 

i  Murd.    Why,  so  he  doth,  when  he  delivers  you 
From  this  Earth's  thraldom  to  the  joys  of  Heaven. 


88  KIN£    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  I. 

2  Murd.    Make  peace  with  God,  for  you  must  die,  my  lord. 

Clar.    Hast  thou  that  holy  feeling  in  thy  soul, 
To  counsel  me  to  make  my  peace  with  God, 
And  art  thou  yet  to  thy  own  soul  so  blind, 
That  thou  wilt  war  with  God  by  murdering  me  ? 
Ah,  sirs,  consider,  he  that  set  you  on 
To  do  this  deed  will  hate  you  for  the  deed. 

2  Murd.    What  shall  we  do  ? 

Clar.  Relent,  and  save  your  souls. 

1  Murd.    Relent !  'tis  cowardly  and  womanish. 
Clar.    Not  to  relent  is  beastly,  savage,  devilish. 

My  friend,  I  spy  some  pity  in  thy  looks  : 
O,  if  thine  eye  be  not  a  flatterer, 
Come  thou  on  my  side,  and  entreat  for  me  : 
A  begging  prince  what  beggar  pities  not  ? 

i  Murd.   Ay,  \Stabbing  him.']  thus,  and  thus :  if  all  this 
will  not  do, 
I'll  drown  you  in  the  malmsey- butt  within. 

\_Exit,  with  the  body. 

2  Murd.    A  bloody  deed,  and  desperately  dispatch'd  ! 
How  fain,  like  Pilate,  would  I  wash  my  hands 

Of  this  most  grievous  murder  ! 

Re-enter  i  Murderer. 

i  Murd.    How  now  !  what  mean'st  thou,  that  thou  help'st 
me  not? 
By  Heaven,  the  duke  shall  know  how  slack  you've  been.     . 

2  Murd.    I  would  he  knew  that  I  had  saved  his  brother  ! 
Take  thou  the  fee,  and  tell  him  what  I  say ; 
For  I  repent  me  that  the  duke  is  slain.  \_Exit. 

i  Murd.    So  do  not  I :  go,  coward  as  thou  art.  — 
Well,  I'll  go  hide  the  body  in  some  hole, 


SCENE  I.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  89 

Till  that  the  duke  give  order  for  his  burial : 

And,  when  I  have  my  meed,  I  will  away ; 

For  this  will  out,  and  then  I  must  not  stay.15  [Exit 


ACT   II. 

Scene  I. — London.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  King  Edward,  led  in  sick,  Queen  Elizabeth,  Dorset, 
Rivers,  Hastings,  Buckingham,  Grey,  and  others. 

K.  Edit).    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  ; 
And  now  in  peace  my  soul  shall  part l  to  Heaven, 
Since  I  have  made  my  friends  at  peace  on  Earth. 
Rivers  and  Hastings,  take  each  other's  hand ; 
Dissemble  not  your  hatred,  swear  your  love.2 

15  The  Duke  of  Clarence  was  arraigned  for  treason  before  the  Parlia- 
ment, convicted,  and  sentence  of  death  passed  upon  him.  This  was  in 
February,  1478,  and  a  few  days  later  it  was  announced  that  he  had  died  in 
the  Tower.  So  that  this  first  Act  of  the  play  embraces  a  period  of  nearly 
seven  years,  the  death  of  King  Henry  having  occurred  in  May,  1471.  The 
manner  of  Clarence's  death  has  never  been  ascertained.  It  was  generally 
attributed  to  the  machinations  of  Richard.  There  was  a  fierce  grudge  be- 
tween the  two  Dukes,  growing  out  of  their  rapacity  towards  the  Warwick 
estates.     See  page  52,  note  24. 

1  Part  for  depart ;  the  two  being  often  used  indiscriminately. 

2  To  dissemble  is,  strictly,  to  put  off  the  show  of  what  is,  as  to  simulate  is 
to  put  on  the  show  of  what  is  not.  So  here  the  meaning  is,  "  Do  not  merely 
put  off  the  show  of  hatred,  but  eradicate  it  altogether,  and  swear  love  into 
its  place." 


90  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  II. 

Riv.    By  Heaven,  my  soul  is  purged  from  grudging  hate ; 
And  with  my  hand  I  seal  my  true  heart's  love. 

Hast.    So  thrive  I,  as  I  truly  swear  the  like  V 

K.  Edw.    Take  heed  you  dally  not  before  your  King ; 
Lest  He  that  is  the  supreme  King  of  kings 
Confound  your  hidden  falsehood,  and  award 
Either  of  you  to  be  the  other's  end. 

Hast.    So  prosper  I,  as  I  swear  perfect  love  ! 

Riv.    And  I,  as  I  love  Hastings  with  my  heart ! 

K.  Edw.    Madam,  yourself  are  not  exempt  in  this,  — 
Nor  you,  son  Dorset,  —  Buckingham,  nor  you  ;  — 
You  have  been  factious  one  against  the  other. 
Wife,  love  Lord  Hastings,  let  him  kiss  your  hand ; 
And  what  you  do,  do  it  unfeignedly. 

Q.  Eliz.    There,  Hastings  ;  I  will  never  more  remember 
Our  former  hatred,  so  thrive  I  and  mine  ! 

K.  Edw.    Dorset,   embrace   him ;  —  Hastings,  love  lord 
marquess. 

Dor.   This  interchange  of  love,  I  here  protest, 
Upon  my  part  shall  be  inviolable. 

Hast.    And  so  swear  I.  [They  embrace. 

K.  Edw.   Now,  princely  Buckingham,  seal  thou  this  league 
With  thy  embracements  to  my  wife's  allies, 
And  make  me  happy  in  your  unity. 

Buck.  \To  the  Queen.]    Whenever  Buckingham  doth  turn 
his  hate 
Upon  your  Grace,  but3  with  all  duteous  love 

-  s  A  very  uncommon  use  of  but,  which  is  here  equivalent  to  and  not,  or, 
better,  to  or  not.  The  full  sense  appears  to  be,  "  Whenever  Buckingham 
doth  turn  his  hate  upon  you,  or  rather  when  he  doth  not  with  all  duteous 
love,"  &c.  For  another  like  instance  of  but,  see  The  Winter  s  Tale,  page  69. 
note  19. 


SCENE  I.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  9 1 

Doth  cherish  you  and  yours,  God  punish  me 
With  hate  in  those  where  I  expect  most  love  ! 
When  I  have  most  need  to  employ  a  friend, 
And  most  assured  that  he  is  a  friend, 
Deep,  hollow,  treacherous,  and  full  of  guile, 
Be  he  unto  me  !  this  do  I  beg  of  God, 
When  I  am  cold  in  zeal  to  you  or  yours. 

[Embracing  Rivers,  &c. 

K.  Edw.   A  pleasing  cordial,  princely  Buckingham, 
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. 

Glos.    Good  morrow  to  my  sovereign  King  and  Queen  ; 
And,  princely  peers,  a  happy  time  of  day  ! 

K.  Edw.    Happy,  indeed,  as  we  have  spent  the  day. 
Brother,  we  have  done  deeds  of  charity ; 
Made  peace  of  enmity,  fair  love  of  hate, 
Between  these  swelling  wrong-incensed  peers. 

Glos.   A  blessed  labour,  my  most  sovereign  liege. 
Among  this  princely  heap,4  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  : 
'Tis  death  to  me  to  be  at  enmity ; 

4  Heap  for  throng,  crowd,  or  gathering,  occurs  repeatedly.  So  in  Julius 
Ccesar,  i.  3  :  "  And  there  were  drawn  upon  a  heap  a  hundred  ghastly  women, 
transformed  with  their  fear." 


92  .  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD0  ACT  II. 

I  hate  it,  and  desire  all  good  men's  love.  — 

First,  madam,  I  entreat  true  peace  of  you, 

Which  I  will  purchase  with  my  duteous  service ;  — 

Of  you,  my  noble  cousin  Buckingham, 

If  ever  any  grudge  were  lodged  between  us  ;  — 

Of  you,  Lord  Rivers,  —  and,  Lord  Grey,  of  you, 

That  all  without  desert  have  frown'd  on  me ;  — 

Dukes,  earls,  lords,  gentlemen  ;  —  indeed,  of  all. 

I  do  not  know  that  Englishman  alive 

With  whom  my  soul  is  any  jot  at  odds 

More  than  the  infant  that  is  born  to-night : 

I  thank  my  God  for  my  humility. 

Q.  Eliz.   A  holiday  shall  this  be  kept  hereafter : 
I  would  to  God  all  strifes  were  well  compounded.  — 
My  sovereign  lord,  I  do  beseech  your  Highness 
To  take  our  brother  Clarence  to  your  grace. 

Glos.    Why,  madam,  have  I  offer'd  love  for  this, 
To  be  so  flouted  in  this  royal  presence  ? 
Who  knows  not  that  the  gentle  duke  is  dead?  \_They  all  start. 
You  do  him  injury  to  scorn  his  corse. 

K.  Edw.    Who  knows  not  he  is  dead  !  who  knows  he  is  ? 

Q.  Eliz.   All-seeing  Heaven,  what  a  world  is  this  ! 

Buck.    Look  I  so  pale,  Lord  Dorset,  as  the  rest? 

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

K.  Edw.    Is  Clarence  dead  ?  the  order  was  reversed. 

Glos.    But  he,  poor  man,  by  your  first  order  died, 
And  that  a  winged  Mercury  did  bear ; 
Some  tardy  cripple  bore  the  countermand, 
That  came  too  lag  to  see  him  buried. 
God  grant  that  some,  less  noble  and  less  loyal, 
Nearer  in  bloody  thoughts,  but  not  in  blood, 


scene  I.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  93 

Deserve  not  worse  than  wretched  Clarence  did, 
And  yet  go  current  from  suspicion  ! 

Enter  Stanley. 

Stan.    A  boon,  my  sovereign,  for  my  sendee  done  ! 

K.  Edw.    I  pr'ythee,  peace  ;  my  soul  is  full  of  sorrow. 

Stan.    I  will  not  rise,  unless  your  Highness  hear  me. 

K.  Edw.    Then  say  at  once  what  is  it  thou  request'st. 

Stan.   The  forfeit,5  sovereign,  of  my  servant's  life  ; 
Who  slew  to-day  a  riotous  gentleman 
Lately  attendant  on  the'  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

K.  Edw.    Have  I  a  tongue  to  doom  my  brother's  death, 
And  shall  that  tongue  give  pardon  to  a  slave  ? 
My  brother  kill'd  no  man  :  his  fault  was  thought, 
And  yet  his  punishment  was  bitter  death. 
Who  sued  to  me  for  him  ?  who,  in  my  rage, 
Kneel'd  at  my  feet,  and  bade  me  be  advised?6 
Who  spoke  of  brotherhood  ?  who  spoke  of  love  ? 
Who  told  me  how  the  poor  soul  did  forsake 
The  mighty  Warwick,  and  did  fight  for  me  ? 
Who  told  me,  in  the  field  at  Tewksbury, 
When  Oxford  had  me  down,  he  rescued  me, 
And  said,  Dear  brother,  live,  and  be  a  king? 
Who  told  me,  when  we  both  lay  in  the  field 
Frozen  almost  to  death,  how  he  did  lap  me 
Even  in  his  garments,  and  did  give  himself, 
All  thin  and  naked,  to  the  numb-cold  night? 
All  this  from  my  remembrance  brutish  wrath 
Sinfully  pluck'd,  and  not  a  man  of  you 

5  He  means  a  remission  of  the  forfeit ;  the  servant  having  forfeited  his 
life  by  the  act.  of  homicide. 

6  Advised,  again,  for  considerate,  or  cautious.     See  page  77,  note  25. 


94  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IL 

Had  so  much  grace  to  put  it  in  my  mind. 

But  when  your  carters  or  your  waiting- vassals 

Have  done  a  drunken  slaughter,  and  defaced 

The  precious  image  of  our  dear  Redeemer, 

You  straight  are  on  your  knees  for  pardon,  pardon ; 

And  I,  unjustly  too,  must  grant  it  you  : 

But  for  my  brother  not  a  man  would  speak, 

Nor  I,  ungracious,  speak  unto  myself 

For  him,  poor  soul.     The  proudest  of  you  all 

Have  been  beholding  7  to  him  in  his  life ; 

Yet  none  of  you  would  once  plead  for  his  life. — 

O  God,  I  fear  Thy  justice  will  take  hold 

On  me,  and  you,  and  mine,  and  yours  for  this  !  — 

Come,  Hastings,  help  me  to  my  closet.  —  Ah, 

Poor  Clarence  ! 

\_Exeunt  the  King,  the  Queen,  Hastings,  Rivers, 

Dorset,  and  Grey. 

Glos.    This  is  the  fruit  of  rashness  !     Mark'd  you  not 
How  that  the  guilty  kindred  of  the  Queen 
Look'd  pale  when  they  did  hear  of  Clarence'  death? 
O,  they  did  urge  it  still  unto  the  King  ! 
God  will  revenge  it.     But,  come,  let  us  m, 
To  comfort  Edward  with  our  company. 

Buck.   We  wait  upon  your  Grace.  \_Exeunt. 

7  Beholding  where  we  should  use  beholden.    Always  so  in  Shakespeare. 
The  word  means  obliged  or  indebted. 


SCENE  II.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  95 


Scene  II.  —  The  Same.     Another  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  the  Duchess  of  York}  with  a  Son  and  Daughter  of 

Clarence. 

Son.    Good  grandam,  tell  us,  is  our  father  dead? 

Duch.    No,  boy. 

Daugh.    Why  do  you  weep  so  oft,  and  beat  your  breast, 
And  cry,  O  Clarence,  my  unhappy  son  ! 

Son.   Why  do  you  look  on  us,  and  shake  your  head, 
And  call  us  orphans,  wretches,  castaways, 
If  that  our  noble  father  be  alive  ? 

Duch.    My  pretty  cousins,2  you  mistake  me  both  • 
I  do  lament  the  sickness  of  the  King, 
As  loth  to  lose  him,  not  your  father's  death : 
It  were  lost  sorrow  to  wail  one  that's  lost. 

Son.   Then,  grandam,  you  conclude  that  he  is  dead. 
The  King  my  uncle  is  to  blame  for  this  : 
God  will  revenge  it ;  whom  I  will  imp6rtune 
With  daily  prayers  all  to  that  effect. 

Daugh.    And  so  will  I. 

Duch.   Peace,  children,  peace  !    the  King  doth  love  you 
well : 
Incapable  3  and  shallow  innocents, 

1  Cicely,  daughter  of  Ralph  Neville,  first  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  and 
widow  of  Richard  Duke  of  York,  who  was  killed  at  the  battle  of  Wakefield, 
1460.     She  survived  her  husband  thirty-five  years,  living  till  the  year  1495. 

2  The  Duchess  is  speaking  to  her  grandchildren,  cousin  being  then  used 
for  this  relation,  as  well  as  for  nephetv,  niece,  and  indeed  for  kindred  gen- 
erally.    The  word  grandchild  does  not  occur  in  Shakespeare. 

3  Incapable  is  here  used  nearly,  if  not  exactly,  in  the  sense  of  unconscious  ; 
meaning  that  unconsciousness  of  evil  which  renders  children  unsuspecting. 
So  in  Hamlet,  iv.  4 :  "As  one  incapable  of  her  own  distress." 


g6  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  II. 

You  cannot  guess  who  caused  your  father's  death. 

Son.    Grandam,  we  can ;  for  my  good  uncle  Gloster 
Told  me,  the  King,  provoked  to't  by  the  Queen, 
Devised  impeachments  to  imprison  him  : 
And,  when  my  uncle  told  me  so,  he  wept, 
And  pitied  me,  and  kindly  kiss'd  my  cheek ; 
Bade  me  rely  on  him  as  on  my  father, 
And  he  would  love  me  dearly  as  his  child. 

Duch.   Ah,  that  deceit  should  steal  such  gentle4  shapes, 
And  with  a  virtuous  visor  hide  deep  vice  ! 
He  is  my  son ;  ay,  and  therein  my  shame ; 
Yet  from  my  dugs5  he  drew  not  this  deceit. 

Son.   Think  you  my  uncle  did  dissemble,6  grandam? 

Ditch.   Ay,  boy. 

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

Enter  Queen  Elizabeth,  distractedly ;  Rivers  and  Dorset 

following  her. 

Q.  Eliz.    O,  who  shall  hinder  me  to  wail  and  weep, 

To  chide  my  fortune,  and  torment  myself  ? 

I'll  join  with  black  despair  against  my  soul, 

And  to  myself  become  an  enemy. 

Duch.   What  means  this  scene  of  rude  impatience?7 
Q.  Eliz.   To  make  an  act  of  tragic  violence  : 


4  Gentle  here  means  well-born  or  high-born,  as  opposed  to  simple  or  low- 
born. So  in  i.  3,  of  this  play :  "  Ah,  gentle  villain,  do  not  turn  away." 
Spoken  to  Richard  by  Margaret. 

5  This  word  was  formerly  thought  good  enough  for  the  most  refined  lips 
and  the  choicest  strains  of  poetry. 

6  Dissemble  was  used,  as  it  still  is,  both  for  feigning  and  for  concealing 
thoughts  and  feelings.  Here  it  has  the  sense  of  to  simulate  or  to  feign. 
See  page  89,  note  2. 

7  The  endings  -ience  and  -iance,  as  well  as  -ion,  -ian,  and  -ious,  are  often 


SCENE  II.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  97 

Edward,  my  lord,  thy  son,  our  King,  is  dead  ! 

Why  grow  the  branches  when  the  root  is  gone  ? 

Why  wither  not  the  leaves  that  want  their  sap  ? 

If  you  will  live,  lament ;  if  die,  be  brief,8 

That  our  swift-winged  souls  may  catch  the  King's ; 

Or,  like  obedient  subjects,  follow  him 

To  his  new  kingdom  of  perpetual  rest. 

Duch.    Ah,  so  much  interest  have  I  in  thy  sorrow 
As  I  had  title  in  thy  noble  husband  ! 
I  have  bewept  a  worthy  husband's  death, 
And  lived  by  looking  on  his  images  : 9 
But  now  two  mirrors  of  his  princely  semblance 
Are  crack'd  in  pieces  by  malignant  death, 
And  I  for  comfort  have  but  one  false  glass, 
That  grieves  me  when  I  see  my  shame  in  him. 
Thou  art  a  widow  ;  yet  thou  art  a  mother, 
And  hast  the  comfort  of  thy  children  left  thee  : 
But  death  hath  snatch'd  my  husband  from  mine  arms, 
And  pluck'd  two  crutches  from  my  feeble  hands, 
Clarence  and  Edward.     O,  what  cause  have  I  — 
Thine  being  but  a  moiety  of  my  grief — 
To  over-go  thy  plaints  and  drown  thy  cries  ! 

Son.   Ah,  aunt,  you  wept  not  for  our  father's  death  ! 
How  can  we  aid  you  with  our  kindred  tears  ? 

Daicgh.    Our  fatherless  distress  was  left  unmoan'd  ; 
Your  widow-dolour  likewise  be  unwept ! 

used  as  two  syllables  by  Shakespeare,  especially  at  the  end  of  a  verse.  So, 
here,  i?f7patience  is,  properly,  four  syllables.  And  so  in  the  preceding  scenes 
we  have  the  line,  "  Lest  to  thy  harm  thou  move  our  patience"  and  the  line, 
"  And,  for  unfelt  imaginations  "  ;  where  -ience  and  -ions  are  strictly  dissyllabic. 

8  That  is,  "  be  quick."     Brief  is  often  used  so,  as  also  briefly  for  quickly. 
So  in  Macbeth,  ii.  I :  "  Let's  briefly  put  on  manly  readiness." 

9  "  His  images"  are  the  children  who  represented  and  resembled  him. 


98  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  II. 

Q.  Eliz.    Give  me  no  help  in  lamentation  ; 
I  am  not  barren  to  bring  forth  complaints  : 
All  springs  reduce  10  their  currents  to  mine  eyes, 
That  I,  being  govern 'd  by  the  watery  Moon, 
May  send  forth  plenteous  tears  to  drown  the  world  ! 
Ah  for  my  husband,  for  my  dear  lord  Edward  ! 

Children.    Ah  for  our  father,  for  our  dear  lord  Clarence  ! 

Duch.    Alas  for  both,  both  mine,  Edward  and  Clarence  ! 

Q.  Eliz.    What  stay  had  I  but  Edward?  and  he's  gone. 

Children.    What  stay  had  we  but  Clarence  ?  and  he's  gone. 

Di    7     "TV  it  stays  had  I  but  they?  and  they  are  gone. 
Eliz.    Was  never  widow  had  so  dear  a  loss  ! 

Children.   Were  never  orphans  had  so  dear  a  loss  ! 
as  never  mother  had  so  dear  a  loss  ! 
Alas,  I  a  1  the  mother  of  these  griefs  ! 
rheir  woes  are  parcell'd,  mine  are  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  do  not  they  :  — 
Alas,  you  three,  on  me,  threefold  distress'd, 
Pour  all  your  tears  !    I  am  your  sorrow's  nurse, 
And  I  will  pamper  it  with  lamentations. 

Dor.    Comfort,  dear  mother  :  God  is  much  displeased 
That  you  take  with  unthankfulness  His  doing : 
In  common  worldly  things  'tis  calFd  ungrateful 
With  dull  unwillingness  to  repay  a  debt 
Which  with  a  bounteous  hand  was  kindly  lent ; 
Much  more  to  be  thus  opposite  with  Heaven, 

10  Reduce  in  the  Latin  sense  of  lead  or  bring  back.  Repeatedly  so.  In 
the  next  line,  the  Moon  is  called  watery  from  her  connection  with  the  tides. 
In  Hamlet,  i.  1,  she  is  called  "the  moist  star,"  for  the  same  reason. 


SCENE  II.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  99 

For  it  requires  the  royal  debt  it  lent  you. 

Riv.    Madam,  bethink  you,  like  a  careful  mother, 
Of  the  young  Prince  your  son  :  send  straight  for  him ; 
Let  him  be  crown' d ;  in  him  your  comfort  lives  : 
Drown  desperate  sorrow  in  dead  Edward's  grave, 
And  plant  your  joys  in  living  Edward's  throne. 

Enter  Gloster,  Buckingham,  Stanley,  Hastings,  Ratcliff, 

and  others. 

Glos.    Sister,  have  comfort :   all  of  us  have  cause 
To  wail  the  dimming  of  our  shining  star ; 
But  none  can  cure  their  harms  by  wailing  them.  — 
Madam,  my  mother,  I  do  cry  you  mercy  ; n 
I  did  not  see  your  Grace  :  humbly  on  my  knee 
I  crave  your  blessing. 

Duck.    God  bless  thee  ;  and  put  meekness  in  thy  breast, 
Love,  charity,  obedience,  and  true  duty  ! 

Glos.    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. 

Buck.   You  cloudy  princes  and  heart-sorrowing  peers, 
That  bear  this  mutual  heavy  load  of  moan, 
Now  cheer  each  other  in  each  other's  love  : 
Though  we  have  spent  our  harvest  of  this  King, 
We  are  to  reap  the  harvest  of  his  son. 
The  broken  rancour  of  your  high-swoln  hearts, 
But  lately  splinter'd,  knit,  and  join'd  together, 
Must  gently  be  preserved,  cherish'd,  and  kept : 12 

11  "  I  cry  you  mercy  "  is  an  old  phrase  for  "  I  ask  your  pardon." 

12  This  passage  is  touched  with  a  sort  of  grammatical  paralysis,  but  the 
sense  is  not  very  obscure.     Their  hearts  had  been  swollen  high  with  ran- 


100  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  II. 

Me  seemeth  good,  that,  with'  some  little  train, 
Forthwith  from  Ludlow  the  young  Prince  be  fet 13 
Hither  to  London,  to  be  crown 'd  our  king. 

Riv.   Why  with  some  little  train,  my  Lord  of  Buckingham  ? 

Buck.    Marry,  my  lord,  lest,  by  a  multitude, 
The  new-heal'd  wound  of  malice  should  break  out ; 
Which  would  be  so  much  the  more  dangerous, 
By  how  much  the  Estate  H  is  green  and  yet  ungovern'd  : 
Where  every  horse  bears  his  commanding  rein, 
And  may  direct  his  course  as  please  himself, 
As  well  the  fear  of  harm  as  harm  apparent,15 
In  my  opinion,  ought  to  be  prevented. 

Glos.    I  hope  the  King  made  peace  with  all  of  us  ; 
And  the  compact  is  firm  and  true  in  me. 

Hast.    And  so  in  me  ;  and  so,  I  think,  in  all : 
Yet,  since  it  is  but  green,  it  should  be  put 
To  no  apparent  likelihood  of  breach, 
Which  haply  by  much  company  might  be  urged  : 
Therefore  I  say  with  noble  Buckingham, 
That  it  is  meet  so  few  should  fetch  the  Prince. 

Stan.    And  so  say  I. 

Glos.   Then  be  it  so  ;  .and  go  we  to  determine 
Who  they  shall  be  that  straight  shall  post  to  Ludlow.  — 

cour,  but  the  rancour  has  been  broken  out  of  them ;  and  as  the  broken 
parts  have  been  but  lately  splintered,  and  knit  and  joined  together,  so  the 
union  must  be  gently  preserved,  &c. 

13  Fet  is  an  old  preterite  form  of  fetch.  The  poet  has  it  in  several  other 
instances.  —  Prince  Edward,  as  Prince  of  Wales,  was  in  fact  living  at  this 
time  under  the  governance  of  his  maternal  uncle,  the  Earl  of  Rivers,  at  Lud- 
low Castle ;  his  presence  being  deemed  necessary  to  restrain  the  Welshmen, 
who  were  something  wild  and  apt  to  be  disorderly. 

14  "  The  Estate"  here  means  "  the  State."  In  reference  to  the  governing 
part  of  the  Commonwealth,  the  two  words  anciently  had  the  same  meaning. 

15  Apparent  in  its  old  sense  of  evident  or  manifest.     Repeatedly  so. 


SCENE  in.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  10 1 

Madam,  —  and  you,  my  mother,  —  will  you  go 
To  give  your  censures16  in  this  business? 

\_Exett?it  all  but  Buckingham  and  Gloster. 

Buck.    My  lord,  whoever  journeys  to  the  Prince, 
For  God's  sake,  let  not  us  two  stay  at  home  ; 
For,  by  the  way,  I'll  sort  occasion, 
As  index  17  to  the  story  we  late  talk'd  of, 
To  part  the  Queen's  proud  kindred  from  the  Prince. 

Glos.    My  other  self,  my  counsel's  consistory, 
My  oracle,  my  prophet  !  my  dear  cousin, 
I,  as  a  child,  will  go  by  thy  direction. 
Towards  Ludlow  then,  for  we'll  not  stay  behind.       [Exeunt. 

Scene  III.  —  The  Same.     A  Street. 
Enter  two  Citizens,  meeting. 

1  Cit.    Good  morrow,  neighbour  :  whither  away  so  fast  ? 

2  Cit.    I  promise  you  I  scarcely  know  myself : 
Hear  you  the  news  abroad  ? 

i  Cit.  Yes  ;  that  the  King  is  dead. 

2  Cit.    Ill  news,  by'r  Lady  ;  seldom  comes  the  better  : 
I  fear,  I  fear  'twill  prove  a  giddy  world. 

Enter  a  third  Citizen. 

3  Cit.    Neighbours,  God  speed  ! 

i  Cit.  Give  you  good  morrow,  sir. 

16  That  is,  your  judgments,  your  opinions.  See  The  Winter's  Tale,  page 
63,  note  1. 

17  The  index  of  a  book  was  formerly  set  at  the  beginning ;  hence,  prob- 
ably, the  word  came  to  be  used  in  the  sense  of  opening  or  introduction.  So 
in  iv.  4  of  this  play :  "The  flattering  index  of  a  direful  pageant."  And  in 
Othello,  ii.  1 :  "  An  index  and  obscure  prologue  to  the  history  of  lust  and 
foul  thoughts."  — Sort,  in  the  line  before,  is  used  for  select  ox  pick. 


102  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  II. 

j  Cit.    Doth   the    news    hold   of    good    King    Edward's 
death  ? 

2  Cit.    Ay,  sir,  it  is  too  true ;  God  help,  the  while  ! 

j  Cit.   Then,  masters,  look  to  see  a  troublous  world. 

i  Cit.    No,  no  ;  by  God's  good  grace  his  son  shall  reign. 

j  Cit.   Woe  to  that  land  that's  govern'd  by  a  child  ! 1 

2  Cit.    In  him  there  is  a  hope  of  government ; 
That,  in  his  nonage,  Council  under  him, 
And,  in  his  full  and  ripen'd  years,  himself, 
No  doubt,  shall  then,  and  till  then,  govern  well.2 

i  Cit.    So  stood  the  State  when  Henry  the  Sixth 
Was  crown'd  in  Paris  but  at  nine  months  old. 

j  Cit.   Stood  the  State  so  ?     No,  no,  good  friends,  God 
wot; 
For  then  this  land  was  famously  enrich'd 
With  politic  grave  counsel ;  then  the  King 
Had  virtuous  uncles  to  protect  his  Grace. 

i  Cit.   Why,  so  hath  this,  both  by  his  father  and  mother. 

j  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, 
Will  touch  us  all  too  near,  if  God  prevent  not. 
O,  full  of  danger  is  the  Duke  of  Gloster  ! 
And  the  Queen's  sons  and  brothers  haught  and  proud  : 
And,  were  they  to  be  ruled,  and  not  to  rule, 
This  sickly  land  might  solace  as  before. 

i  Cit.    Come,  come,  we  fear  the  worst ;  all  will  be  well. 

1  So  in  Ecclesiastes,  x.  16 :  "  Woe  to  thee,  O  land  !  when  thy  king  is  a 
child." 

2  We  may  hope  well  of  his  government  in  all  circumstances  ;  we  may 
hope  this  of  his  Council  while  he  is  in  his  nonage,  and  of  himself  in  his 
riper  years. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  IO3 

j  Cit.    When  clouds    are    seen,  wise    men   put   on   their 
cloaks  ; 
When  great  leaves  fall,  then  Winter  is  at  hand ; 
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 3  it  so, 
'Tis  more  than  we  deserve,  or  I  expect. 

2  Cit.   Truly,  the  hearts  of  men  are  full  of  fear : 
You  cannot  reason  4  almost  with  a  man 
That  looks  not  heavily  and  full  of  dread. 

J  Cit.    Before  the  days  of  change,  still  5  is  it  so  : 
By  a  divine  instinct  men's  minds  mistrust 
Ensuing  danger ;  as,  by  proof,  we  see 
The  waters  swell  before  a  boisterous  storm. 
But  leave  it  all  to  God.  —  Whither  away? 

2  Cit.    Marry,  we  were  sent  for  to  the  justices. 

J  Cit.   And  so  was  I :  I'll  bear  you  company.      \_Exeunt. 


Scene  IV.  —  The  Same.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  the  Archbishop  of  York,  the  young  Duke  of  York, 
Queen  Elizabeth,  and  the  Duchess  of  York. 

Arch.    Last  night,  I  hear,  they  lay  at  Northampton ; 
At  Stony- Stratford  will  they  be  to-night ; 
To-morrow,  or  next  day,  they  will  be  here. 

Duch.    I  long  with  all  my  heart  to  see  the  Prince  : 
I  hope  he  is  much  grown  since  last  I  saw  him. 

3  If  God  allot  or  ordain  it  so.     Sort  in  the  Latin  sense  of  sors. 

4  Reason,  again,  for  talk  or  converse.     See  page  84,  note  12. 

5  Still,  here,  is  always,  continually.     Often  so. 


104  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IL 

Q.  Eliz.    But  I  hear,  no ;  they  say  my  son  of  York 
Has  almost  overta'en  him  in  his  growth. 

York.    Ay,  mother ;  but  I  would  not  have  it  so. 

Duch.    Why,  my  young  cousin,  it  is  good  to  grow. 

York.    Grandam,  one  night,  as  we  did  sit  at  supper, 
My  uncle  Rivers  talk'd  how  I  did  grow 
More  than  my  brother :  Ay,  quoth  my  uncle  Gloster, 
Small  herbs  have  grace,  great  weeds  do  grow  apace  : 
And  since,  methinks,  I  would  not  grow  so  fast, 
Because  sweet  flowers  are  slow,  and  weeds  make  haste. 

Ditch.    Good  faith,  good  faith,  the  saying  did  not  hold 
In  him  that  did  object  the  same  to  thee  : 
He  was  the  wretched'st  thing  when  he  was  young, 
So  long  a-growing  and  so  leisurely, 
That,  if  his  rule  were  true,  he  should  be  gracious. 

Arch.    And  so,  no  doubt,  he  is,  my  gracious  madam. 

Duch.    I  hope  he  is  ;  but  yet  let  mothers  doubt. 

York.    Now,  by  my  troth,  if  I  had  been  remember'd, 
I  could  have  given  my  uncle's  Grace  a  flout, 
To  touch  his  growth  nearer  than  he  touch'd  mine. 

Duch.    How,  my  young  York  ?     I  pr'ythee,  let  me  hear  it. 

York.    Marry,  they  say  my  uncle  grew  so  fast 
That  he  could  gnaw  a  crust  at  two  hours  old  : 
'Twas  full  two  years  ere  I  could  get  a  tooth. 
Grandam,  this  would  have  been  a  biting  jest. 

Duch.    I  pr'ythee,  pretty  York,  who  told  thee  this  ? 

York.    Grandam,  his  nurse. 

Duch.    His  nurse  !  why,  she  was  dead  ere  thou  wast  born. 

York.    If  'twere  not  she,  I  cannot  tell  who  told  me. 

Q.  Eliz.   A  parlous 1  boy  :  —  go  to,  you  are  too  shrewd. 

1  Parlous  is  a  popular  form  of perilous ;  jocularly  used  for  alarming. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  IO5 

Arch.    Good  madam,  be  not  angry  with  the  child. 
Q.  Eliz.    Pitchers  have  ears. 
Arch.    Here  comes  a  messenger.  — 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

What  news  ? 

Mess.    Such  news,  my  lord,  as  grieves  me  to  report. 

Q.  EUz.    How  doth  the  Prince  ? 

Mess.  Well,  madam,  and  in  health. 

Duch.    What  is  thy  news,  then? 

Mess.    Lord  Rivers  and  Lord  Grey  are  sent  to  Pomfret, 
With  them  Sir  Thomas  Vaughan,  prisoners. 

Duch.   Who  hath  committed  them  ? 

Mess.  The  mighty  Dukes 

Gloster  and  Buckingham. 

Q.  Eliz.  For  what  offence  ? 

Mess.    The  sum  of  all  I  can  1  have  disclosed : 
Why  or  for  what  these  nobles  were  committed 
Is  all  unknown  to  me,  my  gracious  lady. 

Q.  Eliz.   Ah  me,  I  see  the  downfall  of  our  House  ! 
The  tiger  now  hath  seized  the  gentle  hind  j 
Insulting  tyranny  begins  to  jet 
Upon  the  innocent  and  awless  2  throne  : 
Welcome,  destruction,  blood,  and  massacre  ! 
I  see,  as  in  a  map,  the  end  of  all. 

Duch.   Accursed  and  unquiet  wrangling  days, 
How  many  of  you  have  mine  eyes  beheld  ! 

2  To  jet  upon  means  here  boldly  to  encroach  upon.  So  in  Titus  Androni- 
cus,  ii.  1 :  "  And  think  you  not  how  dangerous  it  is  to  jet  tipon  a  prince's 
right  ?  "  And  in  an  old  manuscript  play  of  Sir  Thomas  More  :  "  It  is  hard 
when  Englishmens  pacience  must  be  thus  jetted  on  by  straungers.  —  Awless 
is  unreverenced,  not  looked  upon  with  awe. 


I06  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IL 

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 
Clean  over-blown,  themselves,  the  conquerors, 
Make  war  upon  themselves  ;  brother  to  brother, 
Blood  to  blood,  self  against  self :  O,  preposterous 
And  frantic  outrage,  end  thy  damned  spleen ; 
Or  let  me  die,  to  look  on  death  no  more  ! 

Q.  Eliz.    Come,  come,  my  boy  ;  we  will  to  sanctuary.  — 
Madam,  farewell. 

Duch.  Stay,  I  will  go  with  you. 

Q.  Eliz.   You  have  no  cause. 

Arch.   \To  the  Queen.]  My  gracious  lady,  go; 

And  thither  bear  your  treasure  and  your  goods. 
For  my  part,  I'll  resign  unto  your  Grace 
The  seal  I  keep  :  and  so  betide  to  me 
As  well  I  tender  you  and  all  of  yours  ! 
Come,  I'll  conduct  you  to  the  sanctuary.  \Exeunt. 


SCENE  I.  KING   RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  107 


ACT    III. 

Scene  I.  —  London.     A  Street. 

The  trumpets  sound.     Enter  the  Prince  of  Wales,  Gloster, 
Buckingham,  Cardinal  Bourchier,1  Catesby,  and  others. 

Buck.    Welcome,  sweet  Prince,  to  London,  to  your  cham- 
ber.2 

Glos.    Welcome,  dear  cousin,  my  thoughts'  sovereign  : 
The  weary  way  hath  made  you  melancholy. 

Prince.    No,  uncle  ;  but  our  crosses  on  the  way 
Have  made  it  tedious,  wearisome,  and  heavy : 
I  want  more  uncles  here  to  welcome  me. 

Glos.    Sweet  Prince,  th'  untainted  virtue  of  your  years 
Hath  not  yet  dived  into  the  world's  deceit ; 
Nor  more  can  you  distinguish  of  a  man 
Than  of  his  outward  show ;  which,  God  he  knows, 
Seldom  or  never  jumpeth  3  with  the  heart. 
Those  uncles  which  you  want  were  dangerous ; 
Your  Grace  attended  to  their  sugar'd  words, 
But  look'd  not  on  the  poison  of  their  hearts  : 

1  Thomas  Bourchier  was  made  a  Cardinal,  and  elected  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury  in  1464.     He  died  in  i486. 

2  London  was  anciently  called  camera  regis,  that  is,  the  king's  chamber. 
Thus  in  Buckingham's  speech  to  the  citizens  as  given  by  More  :  "  The 
prince,  by  this  noble  citie  as  his  speciall  chamber,  and  the  speciall  well  re- 
nowned citie  of  this  realme,  much  honourable  fame  receiveth  among  all 
other  nations." 

3  To  jump  with  is  to  agree  or  correspond  with.  So  in  1  King  He7iry  IV., 
i.  2  :  "  Well,  Hal,  well ;  and  in  some  sort  it  jumps  with  my  humour."  See, 
also,  The  Merchant,  page  129,  note  5. 


IOS  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  ill. 

God  keep  you  from  them,  and  from  such  false  friends  ! 
Prince.    God  keep  me  from  false  friends  !  but  they  were 

none. 
Glos.    My  lord,  the  Mayor  of  London  comes  to  greet  you. 

Enter  the  Lord  Mayor  and  his  Train. 

May.    God  bless  your  Grace  with  health  and  happy  days  ! 

Prince.    I    thank   you,  good    my  lord;  —  and   thank  you 
all.  —  [Mayor  and  his  Train  retire. 

I  thought  my  mother,  and  my  brother  York, 
Would  long  ere  this  have  met  us  on  the  way  : 
Fie,  what  a  slug  is  Hastings,  that  he  comes  not 
To  tell  us  whether  they  will  come  or  no  ! 

Buck.   And,  in  good  time,  here  comes  the  sweating  lord. 

Enter  Hastings. 

Prince.   Welcome,  my  lord  :  what,  will  our  mother  come  ? 

Hast.    On  what  occasion,  God  he  knows,  not  I, 
The  Queen  your  mother,  and  your  brother  York, 
Have  taken  sanctuary  :  the  tender  prince 
Would  fain  have  come  with  me  to  meet  your  Grace, 
But  by  his  mother  was  perforce  withheld. 

Buck.    Fie,  what  an  indirect  and  peevish  course 
Is  this  of  hers  !  —  Lord  Cardinal,  will  your  Grace 
Persuade  the  Queen  to  send  the  Duke  of  York 
Unto  his  princely  brother  presently? 
If  she  deny, — Lord  Hastings,  go  with  him, 
And  from  her  jealous  arms  pluck  him  perforce. 

Card.    My  Lord  of  Buckingham,  if  my  weak  oratory 
Can  from  his  mother  win  the  Duke  of  York, 
Anon  expect  him  here  ;  but,  if  she  be  obdurate 
To  mild  entreaties,  God  in  Heaven  .forbid 
We  should  infringe  the  holy  privilege 


SCENE  I.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ICX) 

Of  blessed  sanctuary  !  not  for  all  this  land 
Would  I  be  guilty  of  so  great  a  sin. 

Buck.    You  are  too  senseless-obstinate,  my  lord, 
Too  ceremonious  and  traditional ; 4 
Weigh  it  but  with  the  grossness  of  this  age.5 
You  break  not  sanctuary  in  seizing  him  : 
The  benefit  thereof  is  always  granted 
To  those  whose  dealings  have  deserved  the  place, 
And  those  who  have  the  wit  to  claim  the  place  : 
This  Prince  hath  neither  claim'd  it  nor  deserved  it ; 
Therefore,  in  mine  opinion,  cannot  have  it : 
Then,  taking  him  from  thence  that  is  not  there, 
You  break  no  privilege  nor  charter  there. 
Oft  have  I  heard  of  sanctuary-men ; 
But  sanctuary- children  ne'er  till  now. 

Card.    My  lord,  you  shall  o'er-rule  my  mind  for  once.  — 
Come  on,  Lord  Hastings,  will  you  go  with  me  ? 

Hast.    I  will,  my  lord. 

Prince.    Good  lords,  make  all  the  speedy  haste  you  may.  — 

\_Exeunt  Cardinal  and  Hastings. 
Say,  uncle  Gloster,  if  our  brother  come, 
Where  shall  we  sojourn  till  our  coronation? 

Glos.   Where  it  seems  best  unto  your  royal  self. 
If  I  may  counsel  you,  some  day  or  two 

4  Ceremonious  for  superstitious,  or  tenacious  of  formalities ;  traditional 
for  adherent  to  received  customs. 

5  Weigh  is  in  the  same  construction  with  are  in  the  second  line  before, 
the  copulative  and  being  understood.  And  to  weigh,  as  the  word  is  here 
used,  is  to  judge  or  to  consider.  So  that  the  sense  of  the  whole  is,  "You  are 
too  much  swayed  by  popular  forms  and  traditions,  and  you  judge  the  mat- 
ter only  in  accordance  with  the  gross  and  undistinguishing  superstition  - 
which  now  prevails."  Such  is,  in  substance,  Heath's  explanation  of  the 
passage.    See  Critical  Notes. 


110  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

Your  Highness  shall  repose  you  at  the  Tower ; 
Then  where  you  please,  and  shall  be  thought  most  fit 
For  your  best  health  and  recreation. 

Prince.    I  do  not  like  the  Tower,  of  any  place.  — 
Did  Julius  Caesar  build  that  place,  my  lord  ? 

Buck.   He  did,  my  gracious  lord,  begin  that  place ; 
Which,  since,  succeeding  ages  have  re-edified. 

Prince.    Is  it  upon  rec6rd,  or  else  reported 
Successively  from  age  to  age,  he  built  it? 

Buck.   Upon  rec6rd,  my  gracious  lord. 

Prince.   But  say,  my  lord,  it  were  not  register' d, 
Methinks  the  truth  should  live  from  age  to  age, 
As  'twere  retail'd 6  to  all  posterity, 
Even  to  the  general  all-ending  day. 

Glos.    \_Aside.~\    So  wise  so  young,  they  say,  do  ne'er  live 
long. 

Prince.    What  say  you,  uncle  ? 

Glos.    I  say,  without  characters,7  fame  lives  long. — 
[Aside. ~]    Thus,  like  the  formal  Vice,8  Iniquity, 

6  That  is,  recounted.  Minsheu,  in  his  Dictionary,  1617,  besides  the  verb 
retail,  in  the  mercantile  sense,  has  the  verb  to  retaile  or  retell.  Richard 
uses  the  word  again  in  the  fourth  Act,  when  speaking  to  the  Queen  of  her 
daughter :  "  To  whom  I  will  retail  my  conquests  won." 

7  Without  the  help  of  letters  or  inscriptions.  See  The  Winter's  Tale, 
page  159,  note  5, 

8  Of  that  distinguished  personage,  the  Vice  or  Jester  of  the  old  Moralities, 
some  account  is  given  in  Twelfth  Night,  p.  119,  n.  17.  His  part  appears  to 
have  been  on  all  occasions  much  the  same,  consisting  in  a  given  round  or 
set  form  of  action ;  for  which  cause,  probably,  the  epithet  foi'mal  is  here 
applied  to  him.  The  following  is  Gifford's  description  of  him :  "  He  ap- 
pears to  have  been  a  perfect  counterpart  of  the  harlequin  of  the  modern 
stage,  and  had  a  twofold  office,  —  to  instigate  the  hero  of  the  piece  to  wick- 
edness, and  at  the  same  time  to  protect  him  from  the  Devil,  whom  he  was 
permitted  to  buffet  and  baffle  with  his  wooden  sword,  till  the  process  of  the 
story  required  that  both  the  protector  and  the  protected  should  be  carried 


scene  I.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  Ill 

I  moralize  two  meanings  in  one  word.9 

Prince.    That  Julius  Caesar  was  a  famous  man ; 
With  what  his  valour  did  enrich  his  wit, 
His  wit  set  down  to  make  his  valour  live  : 
Death  makes  no  conquest  of  this  conqueror ; 
For  now  he  lives  in  fame,  though  not  in  life. — 
I'll  tell  you  what,  my  cousin  Buckingham, — 

Buck.    What,  my  gracious  lord  ? 

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

Glos.    [Aside. ,]    Short  Summers  lightly10  have  a  forward 
Spring. 

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

Enter  York,  with  the  Cardinal  and  Hastings. 

Prince.    Richard  of  York  !  how  fares  our  loving  brother  ? 
York.    Well,  my  dread  lord ;  so  must  I  call  you  now. 
Prince.    Ay,  brother,  —  to  our  grief,  as  it  is1  yours  : 


off  by  the  fiend  ;    or  the  latter  driven  roaring  from  the  stage,  by  some 
miraculous  interposition  in  favour  of  the  repentant  offender." 

9  Heath  explains  as  follows  :  "Thus  my  moralities,  or  the  sententious 
expressions  I  have  just  uttered,  resemble  those  of  the  Vice,  Iniquity,  in  the 
play ;  the  indecencies  which  lie  at  the  bottom  are  sheltered  from  exception 
and  the  indignation  they  would  excite  if  nakedly  delivered,  under  the  am- 
biguity of  a  double  meaning."  The  writer  adds,  "  The  term  mo?-alize  is 
only  introduced  in  allusion  to  the  title  of  our  old  dramatic  pieces,  which 
were  commonly  called  Moralities,  in  which  the  Vice  was  always  one  of  the 
shining  characters."  It  is  to  be  noted  further,  that,  as  the  Vice  acted  the 
part  of  a  buffoon  or  jester,  he  was  wont  "  to  deal  largely  in  double  mean- 
ings, and  by  the  help  of  them  to  aim  at  cracking  a  jest  or  raising  a  laugh." 

10  Lightly,  here,  is  commonly  or  usually.  So  in  an  old  proverb  preserved 
by  Ray  :  "  There's  lightning  lightly  before  thunder." 


112  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

Too  late  n  he  died  that  might  have  kept  that  title, 
Which  by  his  death  hath  lost  much  majesty. 

Glos.    How  fares  our  cousin,  noble  Lord  of  York? 

York.    I  thank  you,  gentle  uncle.     O,  my  lord, 
You  said  that  idle  weeds  are  fast  in  growth : 
The  Prince  my  brother  hath  outgrown  me  far. 

Glos.    He  hath,  my  lord. 

York.  And  therefore  is  he  idle  ? 

Glos.    O,  my  fair  cousin,  I  must  not  say  so. 

York.    Then  is  he  more  beholding  to  you  than  I. 

Glos.    He  may  command  me  as  my  sovereign ; 
But  you  have  power  in  me  as  in  a  kinsman. 

York.    I  pray  you,  uncle,  give  me  this  dagger. 

Glos.    My  dagger,  little  cousin?  with  all  my  heart. 

Prince.   A  beggar,  brother  ? 

York.    Of  my  kind  uncle,  that  I  know  will  give  ; 
And  being  but  a  toy,  which  is  no  grief  to  give. 

Glos.   A  greater  gift  than  that  I'll  give  my  cousin. 

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

Glos.   Ay,  gentle  cousin,  were  it  light  enough. 

York.    O,  then,  I  see  you'll  part  but  with  light  gifts ; 
In  weightier  things  you'll  say  a  beggar  nay. 

Glos.    It  is  too  heavy  for  your  Grace  to  wear. 

York.    I'd  weigh  it  lightly,  were  it  heavier.12 

Glos.    What,  would  you  have  my  weapon,  little  lord  ? 

York.    I  would,  that  I  might  thank  you,  as  —  as — you  call 
me. 

11  Too  late  for  too  lately  ;  meaning,  it  is  too  short  a  time  since  his  death, 
not  to  be  "  to  our  grief,  as  it  is  yours." 

12  York  is  playing  on  the'  word  lightly,  and  means,  in  one  sense,  "  I  hold 
it  cheap,"  or  "  I  care  little  for  it."  So  in  Love's  Labours  Lost,  v.  2 :  "  You 
weigh  me  not !  —  O,  that's  you  care  not  for  me." 


SCENE  I.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  113 

Glos.    How  ? 

York.    Little. 

Prince.    My  Lord  of  York  will  still  be  cross 13  in  talk  : 
Uncle,  your  Grace  knows  how  to  bear  with  him. 

York.   You  mean,  to  bear  me,  not  to  bear  with  me  :  — 
Uncle,  my  brother  mocks  both  you  and  me  ; 
Because  that  I  am  little,  like  an  ape,14 
He  thinks  that  you  should  bear  me  on  your  shoulders. 

Buck.    \_Aside  to  Hastings.]    With  what  a  sharp -provided 
wit  he  reasons  ! 15 
To  mitigate  the  scorn  he  gives  his  uncle, 
He  prettily  and  aptly  taunts  himself: 
So  cunning  and  so  young  is  wonderful. 

Glos.    My  lord,  will't  please  you  pass  along? 
Myself  and  my  good  cousin  Buckingham 
Will  to  your  mother,  to  entreat  of  her 
To  meet  you  at  the  Tower  and  welcome  you. 

York.   What,  will  you  go  unto  the  Tower,  my  lord? 

Prince.    My  Lord  Protector  needs  will  have  it  so. 

York.    I  shall  not  sleep  in  quiet  at  the  Tower. 

Glos.   Why,  what  should  you  fear? 

York.    Marry,  my  uncle  Clarence'  angry  ghost : 
My  grandam  told  me  he  was  murder 'd  there. 


13  Cross  in  a  logical  sense,  not  in  a  moral ;  opposing,  or  speaking  at  cross- 
purposes  ;  taking  him  in  a  wrong  sense. 

14  York  alludes  to  the  hump  on  Gloster's  back,  which  was  commodious 
for  carrying  burdens.  So  in  Ulpian  Fulwell's  Ars  Adulandi,  1576 :  "  Thou 
hast  an  excellent  back  to  carry  my  lord's  ape." 

15  Provided  seems  to  mean  furnished,  pregnant,  prompt ;  or  it  may  be  an 
instance  of  the  passive  form  with  an  active  sense,  forecasting,  provident. 
We  have  the  former  sense  in  -well-provided,  which  means  well-furnished  or 
well-supplied. —  Here,  again,  reasons  has  the  sense,  apparently,  of  talks  or 
converses.     See  page  103,  note  4. 


114  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

Prince.    I  fear  no  uncles  dead. 

Glos.    Nor  none  that  live,  I  hope. 

Prince.    An  if  they  live,  I  hope  I  need  not  fear.- 
But  come,  my  lord ;  and  with  a  heavy  heart, 
Thinking  on  them,  go  I  unto  the  Tower. 

\Sennet.   Exeunt  the  Prince,  York,  Hastings,  Cardinal, 
and  others  ;  also  the  Lord  Mayor  and  his  Train. 

Buck.   Think  you,  my  lord,  this  little  prating  York 
Was  not  incensed  by  his  subtle  mother 
To  taunt  and  scorn  you  thus  opprobriously  ? 

Glos.    No  doubt,  no  doubt :   O,  'tis  a  parlous  boy ; 
Bold,  quick,  ingenious,  forward,  capable  : 
He's  all  the  mother's,  from  the  top  to  toe. 

Buck.  Well,  let  them  rest.  —  Come  hither,  Catesby.     Thou 
Art  sworn  as  deeply  to  effect  what  we  intend 
As  closely  to  conceal  what  we  impart : 
Thou  know'st  our  reasons  urged  upon  the  way : 
What  think' st  thou  ?  is  it  not  an  easy  matter 
To  make  William  Lord  Hastings  of  our  mind, 
For  the  instalment  of  this  noble  duke 
In  the  seat  royal  of  this  famous  isle  ! 

Cate.   He  for  his  father's  sake  so  loves  the  Prince, 
That  he  will  not  be  won  to  aught  against  him. 

Buck.   What  think'st  thou,  then,  of  Stanley?  will  not  he? 

Cate.    He  will  do  all  in  all  as  Hastings  doth. 

Buck.    Well,  then  no  more  but  this  :  go,  gentle  Catesby, 
And,  as  it  were  far  off,  sound  thou  Lord  Hastings, 
How  he  doth  stand  affected  to  our  purpose  ; 
And  summon  him  to-morrow  to  the  Tower, 
To  sit  about  the  coronation. 
If  thou  dost  find  him  tractable  to  us, 
Encourage  him,  and  show  him  all  our  reasons  : 


SCENE  I.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  115 

If  he  be  leaden,  icy-cold,  unwilling, 
Be  thou  so  too  ;  and  so  break  off  your  talk, 
And  give  us  notice  of  his  inclination  : 
For  we  to-morrow  hold  divided  Councils, 
Wherein  thyself  shalt  highly  be  employ'd. 

Glos.    Commend  me  to  Lord  William  :  tell  him,  Catesby, 
rlis  ancient  knot  of  dangerous  adversaries 
To-morrow  are  let  blood  at  Pomfret- castle  ; 
And  bid  my  friend,  for  joy  of  this  good  news, 
Give  Mistress  Shore  one  gentle  kiss  the  more. 

Buck.    Good  Catesby,  go,  effect  this  business  soundly. 

Gate.    My  good  lords  both,  with  all  the  heed  I  can. 

Glos.    Shall  we  hear  from  you,  Catesby,  ere  we  sleep  ? 

Cate.   You  shall,  my  lord. 

Glos.   At  Crosby-place,  there  shall  you  find  us  both. 

[Exit  Catesby. 

Buck.    My  lord,  what  shall  we  do,  if  we  perceive 
Lord  Hastings  will  not  yield  to  our  complots  ? 

Glos.    Chop  off  his  head,  man  :  somewhat  we  will  do  : 
And,  look,  when  I  am  king,  claim  thou  of  me 
Th'  earldom  of  Hereford,  and  the  movables 
Whereof  the  King  my  brother  stood  possess'd. 

Buck.    I'll  claim  that  promise  at  your  Grace's  hand. 

Glos.   And  look  to  have  it  .yielded  with  all  kindness. 
Come,  let  us  sup  betimes,  that  afterwards 
We  may  digest  our  complots  in  some  form. 


Il6  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

Scene  II.  —  Before  Lord  Hastings'  House. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  [Knocking."]    My  lord  !  my  lord  !  — 

Hast  [  Within.~\    Who  knocks  ? 

Mess.  One  from  the  Lord  Stanley. 

Hast.  [Within.]    What  is' t  o'clock? 

Mess.  Upon  the  stroke  of  four. 

Enter  Hastings. 

Hast.    Cannot  thy  master  sleep  these  tedious  nights  ? 

Mess.    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  this  night 
He  dreamt  the  boar  had  rased x  off  his  helm  : 
Besides,  he  says  there  are  two  Councils  held ; 
And  that  may  be  determined  at  the  one 
Which  may  make  you  and  him  to  rue  at  th'  other. 
Therefore  he  sends  to  know  your  lordship's  pleasure, 
If  presently  you  will  take  horse  with  him, 
And  with  all  speed  post  with  him  toward  the  North, 
To  shun  the  danger  that  his  soul  divines. 

Hast.    Go,  fellow,  go,  return  unto  thy  lord ; 
Bid  him  not  fear  the  separated  Councils  : 
His  Honour  and  myself  are  at  the  one, 

1  Rased  or  rashed  was  a  term  commonly  used  to  describe  the  violence 
inflicted  by  a  boar.  Nott  derives  it  from  Arracher,  French,  to  root  zip,  to 
draw,  tear,  ox  pull  up.     So  in  The  Faerie  Queene,  v.  3,  8  : 

There  Marinell  great  deeds  of  amies  did  shew ; 
And  through  the  thickest  like  a  lyon  flew, 
Rashing  off  helmes,  and  ryving  plates  asonder. 


SCENE  II.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  11/ 

And  at  the  other  is  my  good  friend  Catesby ; 
Where  nothing  can  proceed  that  toucheth  us 
Whereof  I  shall  not  have  intelligence. 
Tell  him  his  fears  are  shallow,  wanting  instance  : 2 
And  for  his  dreams,  I  wonder  he's  so  fond3 
To  trust  the  mockery  of  unquiet  slumbers  : 
To  fly  the  boar  before  the  boar  pursues, 
Were  to  incense  the  boar  to  follow  us, 
And  make  pursuit  where  he  did  mean  no  chase. 
Go,  bid  thy  master  rise  and  come  to  me  ; 
And  we  will  both  together  to  the  Tower, 
Where  he  shall  see  the  boar4  will  use  us  kindly. 

Mess.    I'll  go,  my  lord,  and  tell  him  what  you  say.    [Exit- 
Enter  Catesby. 

Cate.    Many  good  morrows  to  my  noble  lord  ! 

Hast.    Good  morrow,  Catesby ;  you  are  early  stirring  : 
What  news,  what  news,  in  this  our  tottering  State  ? 

Cate.    It  is  a  reeling  world,  indeed,  my  lord ; 
And  I  believe  will  never  stand  upright 
Till  Richard  wear  the  garland  of  the  realm. 

Hast.    How  !   wear .  the   garland  !    dost    thou    mean    the 
crown  ? 

Cate.   Ay,  my  good  lord. 

Hast.  I'll  have  this  crown  of  mine  cut  from  my  shoulders 
Before  I'll  see  the  crown  so  foul  misplaced. 

2  Without  example,  or  without  any  matter-of-fact,  to  mstance,  or  allege  in- 
proof.  So  in  The  Merry  Wives,  ii.  2,  Ford  says  of  his  wife,  "  Now,  could  I 
come  to  her  with  any  detection  in  my  hand,  my  desires  had  instance  and 
argument  to  commend  themselves." 

8  Fond,  here,  as  usual,  is  foolish,  or  weak. 

4  Of  course  the  boar  is  Richard,  whose  crest  was  adorned  with  the  figure 
of  that  amiable  beast. 


Il8  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

But  canst  thou  guess  that  he  doth  aim  at  it  ? 

Cate.    Ay,  on  my  life  ;  and  hopes  to  find  you  forward 
Upon  his  party  for  the  gain  thereof: 
And  thereupon  he  sends  you  this  good  news, 
That  this  same  very  day  your  enemies, 
The  kindred  of  the  Queen,  must  die  at  Pomfret. 

Hast.    Indeed,  I  am  no  mourner  for  that  news, 
Because  they  have  been  still  my  adversaries : 
But,  that  I'll  give  my  voice  on  Richard's  side,, 
To  bar  my  master's  heirs  in  true  descent, 
God  knows  I  will  not  do  it  to  the  death. 

Cate.    God  keep  your  lordship  in  that  gracious  mind  ! 

Hast.    But  I  shall  laugh  at  this  a  twelve-month  hence, 
That  they  who  brought  me  in  my  master's  hate, 
I  live  to  look  upon  their  tragedy. 
Well,  Catesby,  ere  a  fortnight  make  me  older, 
I'll  send  some  packing  that  yet  think  not  on't. 

Cate.    'Tis  a  vile  thing  to  die,  my  gracious  lord, 
When  men  are  unprepared  and  look  not  for  it. 

Hast.    O  monstrous,  monstrous  !  and  so  falls  it  out 
With  Rivers,  Vaughan,  Grey  :   and  so  'twill  do 
With  some  men  else,  that  think  themselves  as  safe 
As  thou  and  I ;  who,  as  thou  know'st,  are  dear 
To  princely  Richard  and  to  Buckingham. 

Cate.   The  princes  both  make  high  account  of  you, — 
\A'side.~\    For  they  account  his  head  upon  the  bridge. 

Hast.    I  know  they  do ;  and  I  have  well  deserved  it.  — 

Enter  Stanley. 

Come  on,  come  on ;  where  is  your  boar-spear,  man  ? 
Fear  you  the  boar,  and  go  so  unprovided  ? 

Stan.   My  lord,  good  morrow ;  —  good  morrow,  Catesby  :  — 


SCENE  ii.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  I  19 

You  may  jest  on,  but,  by  the  holy  Rood,5 
I  do  not  like  these  several  Councils,  I. 

Hast.    My  lord,  I  hold  my  life  as  dear  as  you  do  yours ; 
And  never  in  my  days,  I  do  protest, 
Was  it  more  precious  to  me  than  'tis  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 ; 
And  they,  indeed,  had  no  cause  to  mistrust ; 
But  yet,  you  see,  how  soon  the  day  o'ercast. 
This  sudden  stab  of  rancour  I  misdoubt : 
Pray  God,  I  say,  I  prove  a  needless  coward  !6 
What,  shall  we  toward  the  Tower?  the  day  is  spent. 

Hast.    Come,  come,  have  with  you.     Wot  you  what,  my 
lord? 
To-day  the  lords  you  talk  of  are  beheaded. 

Stan.    They,  for  their  truth,  might  better  wear  their  heads 
Than  some  that  have  accused  them  wear  their  hats. 
But  come,  my  lord,  let  us  away. 

Enter  a  Pursuivant.7 

Hast.    Go  on  before  ;  I'll  talk  with  this  good  fellow.  — 

\_Exeunt  Stanley  and  Catesby. 
How  now,  sirrah  !  how  goes  the  world  with  thee  ? 

5  "The  holy  Rood"  is  the  cross  or  crucifix.     A  frequent  oath. 

6  To  "  prove  a  needless  coward  "  here  means,  evidently,  to  prove  a  cow- 
ard needlessly  or  without  cause.  Shakespeare  has  many  instances  of  like 
construction. 

7  A  pursuivant  is  now  a  State  messenger,  or  one  having  authority  to 
execute  warrants  :  the  word  formerly  meant  a  junior  officer  of  the  Heralds' 
College.  In  More's  history  this  Pursuivant  is  spoken  of  as  being  also 
named  Hastings. 


120  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

Purs.   The  better  that  your  lordship  please  to  ask. 

Hast.    I  tell  thee,  man,  'tis  better  with  me  now 
Than  when  thou  mett'st  me  last  where  now  we  meet : 
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  are  put  to  death, 
A.nd  I  in  better  state  than  e'er  I  was. 

Purs.    God  hold  it,8  to  your  Honour's  good  content ! 

Hast.    Gramercy,  fellow  :  there,  drink  that  for  me. 

\Throwing  him  his  purse. 

Purs.    God  save  your  lordship  !  \_Exit. 

Enter  a  Priest. 

Priest.   Well  met,  my  lord ;  I'm  glad  to  see  your  Honour. 

Hast.    I  thank  thee,  good  Sir  John,  with  all  my  heart. 
I'm  in  your  debt  for  your  last  exercise  ;  9 
Come  the  next  Sabbath,  and  I  will  content  you. 

Enter  Buckingham.  r 

Buck.    What,  talking  with  a  priest,  Lord  Chamberlain  ! 
Your  friends  at  Pomfret,  they  do  need  the  priest ; 
Your  Honour  hath  no  shriving- work 10  in  hand. 

Hast.    Good  faith,  and  when  I  met  this  holy  man, 
The  men  you  talk  of  came  into  my  mind. 
What,  go  you  toward  the  Tower  ? 

8  "  God  hold  it "  is  God  continue  it.  —  Gramercy,  in  the  next  line,  is  great 
thanks  ;  from  the  French  grand  merci. 

9  Exercise  here  probably  means  religious  instruction.  —  Sir  was  in  com- 
mon use  as  a  clerical  title.  Thus  we  have  Sir  Oliver  Martext  in  As  You 
Like  It,  and  Sir  Hugh  Evans  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

10  Shriving  or  shrift  is  an  old  word  for  confession  and  absolution. 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  121 

Buck.    I  do,  my  lord ;  but  long  I  cannot  stay  there  : 
I  shall  return  before  your  lordship  thence. 

Hast.    Nay,  like  enough,  for  I  stay  dinner  there. 

Buck.  \_Aside.~]    And  supper  too,  although  thou  know'st  it 
not. — 
Come,  will  you  go  ? 

Hast.  I'll  wait  upon  your  lordship.      [Exeunt. 

Scene  III.  —  Pomfret.     Before  the  Castle. 

Enter  Ratcliff,  with  a  Gtiard,  conducting  Rivers,  Grey, 
and  Vaughan  to  Execution. 

Riv.    Sir  Richard  Ratcliff,  let  me  tell  thee  this, 
To-day  shalt  thou  behold  a  subject  die 
For  truth,  for  duty,  and  for  loyalty. 

Grey.    God  keep  the  Prince  from  all  the  pack  of  you  ! 

knot  you  are  of  damned  blood-suckers. 

Vaugh.   You  live  that  shall  cry  woe  for  this  hereafter. 

Rat.   Dispatch ;  the  limit 1  of  your  lives  is  out. 

Riv.    O  Pomfret,  Pomfret !  O  thou  bloody  prison, 
'atal  and  ominous  to  noble  peers  ! 
rithin  the  guilty  closure  of  thy  walls 
Richard  the  Second  here  was  hack'd  to  death ; 
And,  for  more  slander  to  thy  dismal  seat, 
We  give  thee  up  our  guiltless  blood  to  drink. 

Grey.    Now  Margaret's  curse  is  fall'n  upon  our  heads, 
When  she  exclaim'd  on  Hastings,  you,  and  I, 
ror  standing  by  when  Richard  stabb'd  her  son. 

1  Limit,  here,  is  equivalent  to  appointed  time  ;  to  appoint  being  one  of  the 
old  meanings  of  to  limit.  So  in  Measure  for  Measure,  iii.  I :  "  Between 
which  time  of  the  contract  and  limit  of  the  solemnity,"  &c. 


122  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

Riv.   Then  cursed  she  Richard,  then  cursed  she  Bucking- 
ham, 

Then  cursed  she  Hastings  :  —  O,  remember,  God, 

To  hear  her  prayers  for  them,  as  now  for  us  ! 

And,  for  my  sister  and  her  princely  sons, 

Be  satisfied,  dear  God,  with  our  true  blood, 

Which,  as  Thou  know'st,  unjustly  must  be  spilt. 
Rat.    Make  haste  ;  the  hour  of  death  is  expirate.2 
Riv.    Come,  Grey,  —  come,  Vaughan,  —  let   us  here  em- 
brace : 

Farewell,  until  we  meet  again  in  Heaven.  \_Exeunt. 

Scene  IV.  —  London.     A  Room  in  the  Tower. 

Buckingham,  Stanley,  Hastings,  the  Bishop  of  Ely,3  Rat- 
cliff,  Lovel,  and  others,  sitting  at  a  table  ;  Officers  of  the 
Council  attending. 

Hast.    Now,  noble  peers,  the  cause  why  we  are  met 
Is,  to  determine  of  the  coronation. 
In  God's  name,  speak;  when  is  the  royal  day? 

Buck.   Are  all  things  ready  for  that  royal  time  ? 

Stan.   They  are  ;  and  wants  but  nomination.4 

Ely.   To-morrow,  then,  I  judge  a  happy  5  day. 

2  Expirate  for  expirated,  that  is,  expired.  So,  before,  convict  for  con- 
victed.    See  page  85,  note  14. 

3  Dr.  John  Morton,  who  was  elected  to  the  see  of  Ely  in  1478.  He  was 
advanced  to  the  see  of  Canterbury  in  i486,  and  appointed  Lord  Chancellor 
in  1487.  He  died  in  the  year  1500.  This  prelate  first  devised  the  scheme 
of  putting  an  end  to  the  long  contest  between  the  Houses  of  York  and  Lan- 
caster, by  a  marriage  between  Henry  Earl  of  Richmond  and  Elizabeth,  the 
eldest  daughter  of  Edward  IV. ;  and  was  a  principal  agent  in  bringing  that 
arrangement  about. 

4  And  there  wants  or  is  wanting  but  a  naming  of  the  time. 

5  Happy  here  means  auspicious,  the  same  as  the  Latin  felix. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 23 

Buck.    Who  knows  the  Lord  Protector's  mind  herein  ? 
Who  is  most  inward  6  with  the  noble  duke  ? 

Ely.    Your  Grace,  we  think,  should  soonest  know  his  mind. 

Buck.    We  know  each  other's  faces  :  for  our  hearts, 
He  knows  no  more  of  mine  than  I  of  yours  ; 
Nor  I  of  his,  my  lord,  than  you  of  mine.  — 
Lord  Hastings,  you  and  he  are  near  in  love. 

Hast.    I  thank  his  Grace,  I  know  he  loves  me  well ; 
But,  for  his  purpose  in  the  coronation, 
I  have  not  sounded  him,  nor  he  deliver'd 
His  gracious  pleasure  any  way  therein  : 
But  you,  my  noble  lords,  may  name  the  time ; 
And  in  the  duke's  behalf  I'll  give  my  voice, 
Which,  I  presume,  he'll  take  in  gentle  part. 

Ely.    In  happy  time,  here  comes  the  duke  himself. 

Enter  Gloster. 

Glos.    My  noble  lords  and  cousins  all,  good  morrow. 
I  have  been  long  a  sleeper  :  but,  I  trust, 
My  absence  doth  neglect  no  great  design, 
Which  by  my  presence  might  have  been  concluded. 

Buck.    Had  you  not  come  upon  your  cue,7  my  lord, 
William  Lord  Hastings  had  pronounced  your  part, — 
I  mean,  your  voice,  —  for  crowning  of  the  King. 

Glos.   Than  my  Lord  Hastings  no  man  might  be  bolder ; 
His  lordship  knows  me  well,  and  loves  me  well.  — 
My  Lord  of  Ely,  when  I  was  last  in  Holborn, 

6  Inward,  as  here  used,  is  intimate  or  cotifidential.  The  same  word  oc- 
curs as  a  substantive  with  the  same  sense  in  Measure  for  Measttre,  iii.  2: 
"  Sir,  I  was  an  inward  of  his." 

7  An  expression  borrowed  from  the  stage :  the  cue,  queue,  or  tail  of  a 
speech  being  the  last  words,  and  so  indicating  to  the  next  speaker  when  to 
take  his  turn. 


124  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

I  saw  good  strawberries  in  your  garden  there-: 
I  do  beseech  you  send  for  some  of  them.8 

Ely.    Marry,  and  will,  my  lord,  with  all  my  heart.      [Exit. 

Glos.    Cousin  of  Buckingham,  a  word  with  you. 

[Takes  him  aside. 
Catesby  hath  sounded  Hastings  in  our  business, 
And  finds  the  testy  gentleman  so  hot, 
That  he  will  lose  his  head  ere  give  consent 
His  master's  child,  as  worshipfully  he  terms  it, 
Shall  lose  the  royalty  of  England's  throne. 

Buck.   Withdraw  you  hence,  my  lord ;  I'll  follow  you. 

[Exit  Gloster,  followed  by  Buckingham. 

Stan.   We  have  not  yet  set  down  this  day  of  triumph. 
To-morrow,  in  my  judgment,  is  too  sudden ; 
For  I  myself  am  not  so  well  provided 
As  else  I  would  be,  were  the  day  prolong'd. 

Re-enter  the  Bishop  of  Ely. 

Ely.    Where  is  my  lord  the  Duke  of  Gloster  ? 
I  have  sent  for  these  strawberries. 

Hast.    His  Grace  looks  cheerfully  and  smooth  to-day ; 
There's  some  conceit  or  other  likes9  him  well, 

8  This  easy  affability  and  smoothness  of  humour  when  going  about  the 
blackest  and  bloodiest  crimes  is  one  of  the  most  telling  strokes  in  this  ter- 
rible portrait.  The  incident  is  thus  related  in  the  History  :  "  These  lords  so 
sitting  togither  communing  of  this  matter,  the  protector  came  in  amongst 
them  first  about  nine  of  the  clocke,  saluting  them  courteouslie,  and  excusing 
himselfe  that  had  been  from  them  so  long,  saieng  merilie  that  he  had  beene 
a  sleeper  that  daie.  After  a  little  talking  with  them  he  said  unto  the  bishop 
of  Elie,  My  lord,  you  have  verie  good  strawberies  at  your  garden  in  Hol- 
borne  ;  I  require  you,  let  us  have  a  messe  of  them.  Gladlie,  my  lord,  quoth 
he ;  would  God  I  had  some  better  thing  as  readie  to  your  pleasure  as  that ! 
And  therewithall  in  all  hast  he  sent  his  servant  for  a  messe  of  strawberies." 

9  Some  thought  or  conception  that  pleases  him  well.  Conceit  is  generally 
so  in  old  writers,  and  likes  very  often  so. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 25 

When  he  doth  bid  good-morrow  with  such  spirit. 
I  think  there's  ne'er  a  man  in  Christendom 
Can  lesser  hide  his  love  or  hate  than  he ; 
For  by  his  face  straight  shall  you-  know  his  heart. 

Stan.    What  of  his  heart  perceive  you  in  his  face 
By  any  likelihood  he  show'd  to-day  ? 

Hast.    Marry,  that  with  no  man  here  he's  offended ; 
For,  were  he,  he  had  shown  it  in  his  looks. 

Re-enter  Gloster  and  Buckingham. 

Glos.    I  pray  you  all,  tell  me  what  they  deserve 
That  do  conspire  my  death  with  devilish  plots 
Of  damned  witchcraft,  and  that  have  prevail'd 
Upon  my  body  with  their  hellish  charms  ? 

Hast.   The  tender  love  I  bear  your  Grace,  my  lord, 
Makes  me  most  forward  in  this  noble  presence 
To  doom  th'  offenders  :   whosoe'er  they  be,- 
I  say,  my  lord,  they  have  deserved  death. 

Glos.   Then  be  your  eyes  the  witness  of  their  evil : 
Look  how  I  am  bewitch'd  ;  behold  mine  arm 
Is,  like  a  blasted  sapling,  wither'd  up  : 
And  this  is  Edward's  wife,  that  monstrous  witch, 
Consorted  with  that  harlot-woman  Shore, 
That  by  their  witchcraft  thus  have  marked  me. 

Hast.    If  they  have  done  this  thing,  my  gracious  lord,  — 

Glos.    If !  thou  protector  of  this  damned  harlot, 
Talk'st  thou  to  me  of  ifs  ?     Thou  art  a  traitor  :  — 
Off  with  his  head  !  now,  by  Saint  Paul,  I  swear 
I  will  not  dine  until  I  see  the  same.  — 
Lovel  and  Ratcliff,10  look  that  it  be  done  :  — 

10  In  the  preceding  scene,  we  have  Ratcliff  at  Pomfret,  conducting  Rivers, 
Grey,  and  Vaughan  to  death  ;  yet  the  events  of  that  scene  and  this  are  rep- 


126  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

The  rest,  that  love  me,  rise  and  follow  me. 

\_Exeunt  all  but  Hastings,  Lovel,  and  Ratcliff. 

Hast   Woe,  woe  for  England  !  not  a  whit  for  me  ; 
For  I,  too  fond,  might  have  prevented  this. 
Stanley  did  dream  the  boar  did  rase  his  helm ; 
But  I  disdain'd  it,  and  did  scorn  to  fly  : 
Three  times  to-day  my  foot-cloth  horse11  did  stumble, 
And  started  when  he  look'd  upon  the  Tower, 
As  loth  to  bear  me  to  the  slaughter-house. 
O,  now  I  need  the  priest  that  spake  to  me : 
I  now  repent  I  told  the  pursuivant, 
As  too  triumphing,  how  mine  enemies 
To-day  at  Pomfret  bloodily  were  butcher'd, 
And  I  myself  secure  in  grace  and  favour.  — 
O  Margaret,  Margaret,  now  thy  heavy  curse 
Is  lighted  on  poor  Hastings'  wretched  head  ! 

Rat.    Dispatch,  my  lord  ;  the  duke  would  be  at  dinner  : 
Make  a  short  shrift ;  he  longs  to  see  your  head. 

Hast.    O  momentary  grace  of  mortal  men, 
Which  we  more  hunt  for  than  the  grace  of  God  ! 
Who  builds  his  hope  in  air  of  your  fair  looks, 
Lives  like  a  drunken  sailor  on  a  mast, 
Ready,  with  every  nod,  to  tumble  down 
Into  the  fatal  bowels  of  the  deep. 

Lov.    Come,  come,  dispatch ;  'tis  bootle'ss  to  exclaim. 

resented  as  occurring  the  same  day.  Knight  thinks  "  this  is  one  of  those 
positions  in  which  the  Poet  has  trusted  to  the  imagination  of  his  audience 
rather  than  to  their  topographical  knowledge."  It  may  be  so,  but  it  seems 
to  me  much  more  likely  to  have  been  a  simple  oversight  on  the  Poet's  part. 
11  A  foot-cloth  was  a  kind  of  housing  that  covered  the  body  of  the  horse, 
and  reached  nearly  to  the  ground.  A  foot-cloth  horse  was  a  palfrey  covered 
with  such  housings,  used  for  state ;  and  was  the  usual  mode  of  conveyance 
for  the  rich,  at  a  period  when  carriages  were  unknown. 


SCENE  V.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  127 

Hast.    O  bloody  Richard  !  —  miserable  England  ! 
I  prophesy  the  fearfull'st  time  to  thee 
That  ever  wretched  age  hath  look'd  upon.  — 
Come,  lead  me  to  the  block  ;  bear  him  my  head  : 
They  smile  at  me  who  shortly  shall  be  dead.12  \_Exeunt. 


Scene  V.  —  The  Same.     The  Tower-walls. 

Enter  Gloster  and  Buckingham,  in  rusty  armour,  marvel- 
lous ill-favoured. 

Glos.    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 1  and  mad  with  terror  ? 

Buck.   Tut,  I  can  counterfeit  the  deep  tragedian ; 
Speak  and  look  back,  and  pry  on  every  side, 
Tremble  and  start  at  wagging  of  a  straw, 
Intending2  deep  suspicion  :  ghastly  looks 
Are  at  my  service,  like  enforced  smiles ; 
And  both  are  ready  in  their  offices, 
At  any  time,  to  grace  my  stratagems. 

12  William  Lord  Hastings  was  beheaded  on  the  13th  of  June,  1483.  His 
eldest  son  by  Catharine  Neville,  daughter  of  Richard  Neville,  Earl  of  Salis- 
bury, and  widow  of  William  Lord  Bonville.was  restored  to  his  honours  and 
estate  by  King  Henry  VII.  in  the  first  year  of  his  reign. 

1  Dhstrmight  is  an  old  form  of  distracted. 

2  Intend  is  repeatedly  used  by  Shakespeare  for  pretend.  So,  again,  in 
the  seventh  scene  of  this  Act :  "  Intend  some  fear."  Also,  in  Lucrece  :  "  For 
then  is  Tarquin  brought  unto  his  bed,  intending  weariness  with  heavy  sprite." 
On  the  other  hand,  the  Poet  repeatedly  has  pretend  and  its  derivatives  in 
the  sense  of  intend.    See,  also,  Much  Ado,  page  56,  note  2. 


128  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

But  what,  is  Catesby  gone  ? 

Glos.    He  is ;  and,  see,  he  brings  the  Mayor  along. 
Buck.    Let  me  alone  to  entertain  him. — 

Enter  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Catesby. 

Lord  Mayor,  — 
Glos.    Look  to  the  drawbridge  there  ! 

Buck.  Hark  !  a  drum. 

Glos.    Catesby,  o'erlook  the  walls. 

Buck.    Lord  Mayor,  the  reason  we  have  sent  for  you,  — 

Glos.    Look  back,  defend  thee  ;  here  are  enemies. 

Buck.    God  and  our  innocence  defend  and  guard  us  ! 

Glos.   Be  patient,  they  are  friends,  RatclifT  and  Lovel. 

Enter  Lovel  and  Ratcliff,  with  Hastings'  head. 

Lov.    Here  is  the  head  of  that  ignoble  traitor, 
The  dangerous  and  unsuspected  Hastings. 

Glos.    So  dear  I  loved  the  man,  that  I  must  weep. 
I  took  him  for  the  plainest  harmless  creature 
That  breathed  upon  the  Earth  a  Christian  ; 
Made  him  my  book,  wherein  my  soul  recorded 
The  history  of  all  her  secret  thoughts  : 
So  smooth  he  daub'd3  his  vice  with  show  of  virtue, 
That,  his  apparent  open  guilt  omitted,  — 
I  mean,  his  conversation4  with  Shore's  wife, — 
He  lived  from  all  attainder  of  suspect.5 

Buck.   Well,  well,  he  was  the  covert'st  shelter'd  traitor 

3  To  daub  was  used  for  to  disguise,  to  cover  over.    So  in  King  Lear,  iv.  i : 
"  I  cannot  daub  it  further." 

4  Familiar  intercourse  ;   what  is  now   called   criminal  conversation.  — 
Apparent,  again,  in  the  sense  oi  manifest.     See  page  ioo,  note  15. 

6  Suspect  for  suspicion.    So,  before,  in  i.  3 :  "  You  do  me  shameful  injury, 
falsely  to  draw  me  in  these  vile  suspects!' 


SCENE  V.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 29 

That  ever  lived.  — 

Would  you  imagine,  or  almost  believe,  — 

Were't  not  that,  by  great  preservation, 

We  live  to  tell  it  you,  —  the  subtle  traitor 

This  day  had  plotted,  in  the  Council-house, 

To  murder  me  and  my  good  Lord  of  Gloster  ? 

May.    What,  had  he  so? 

Glos.   What,  think  you  we  are  Turks  or  infidels  ? 
Or  that  we  would,  against  the  form  of  law, 
Proceed  thus  rashly  in  the  villain's  death, 
But  that  the  extreme  peril  of  the  case, 
The  peace  of  England  and  our  persons'  safety, 
Enforced  us  to  this  execution  ? 

May.    Now,  fair  befall  you  !  he  deserved  his  death ; 
And  your  good  Graces  both  have  well  proceeded, 
To  warn  false  traitors  from  the  like  attempts. 
I  never  look'd  for  better  at  his  hands, 
After  he  once  fell  in  with  Mistress  Shore. 

Buck.    Yet  had  we  not  determined  he  should  die, 
Until  your  lordship  came  to  see  his  end ; 
Which  now  the  loving  haste  of  these  our  friends, 
Somewhat  against  our  meaning,  have  6  prevented ; 
Because,  my  lord,  we  would  have  had  you  hear 
The  traitor  speak,  and  timorously  confess 
The  manner  and  the  purpose  of  his  treason  ; 
That  you  might  well  have  signified  the  same 
Unto  the  citizens,  who  haply  may 
Misconstrue  us  in  him,  and  wail  his  death. 

May.    But,  my  good  lord,  your  Grace's  word  shall  serve, 

6  Properly  it  should  be  has.  But  the  old  writers  have  many  such  in- 
stances where  the  verb  is  made  to  agree  with  the  nearest  substantive,  as 
with  friends  here,  instead  of  its  proper  subject. 


I3O  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

As  well  as  I  had  seen,  and  heard  him  speak ; 
And  do  not  doubt,  right  noble  princes  both, 
But  I'll  acquaint  our  duteous  citizens 
With  all  your  just  proceedings  in  this  case. 

Glos.    And  to  that  end  we  wish'd  your  lordship  here, 
T'  avoid  the  censures  of  the  carping  world. 

Buck.   But  since  you  come  too  late  of7  our  intent, 
Yet  witness  what  you  hear  we  did  intend  : 
And  so,  my  good  Lord  Mayor,  we  bid  farewell.     • 

\Exit  Lord  Mayor- 

Glos.    Go,  after,  after,  cousin  Buckingham. 
The  Mayor  towards  Guildhall  hies  him  in  all  post : 
There,  at  your  meetest  vantage  of  the  time, 
Infer8  the  bastardy  of  Edward's  children  : 
Tell  them  how  Edward  put  to  death  a  citizen, 
Only  for  saying  he  would  make  his  son 
Heir  to  the  crown ;  meaning,  indeed,  his  house, 
Which,  by  the  sign  thereof,  was  termed  so.9 
Moreover,  urge  his  hateful  luxury, 
And  bestial  appetite  in  change  of  lust ; 
Which  stretch'd  unto  their  servants,  daughters,  wives, 
Even  where  his  raging  eye  or  savage  heart, 
Without  control,  listed  to  make  a  prey. 

Buck.    Doubt  not,  my  lord,  I'll  play  the  orator 

7  In  common  speech  a  similar  phrase  is  used,  "  to  come  short  of  a.  thing." 

8  Infer  is  here  used  in  the  sense  of  introduce  or  bring  forward ;  one  of 
its  Latin  senses.  So  in  iv.  4,  of  this  play  :  "  Infer  fair  England's  peace  by 
this  alliance." 

9  This  person  was  one  Walker,  a  substantial  citizen  and  grocer,  at  the 
Crow7i  in  Cheapside.  These  topics  of  Edward's  cruelty,  lust,  unlawful  mar- 
riage, &c,  are  enlarged  upon  in  that  most  extraordinary  invective,  the  peti- 
tion presented  to  Richard  before  his  accession,  which  was  afterwards  turned 
into  an  Act  of  Parliament. 


SCENE  V.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  I3I 

As  if  the  golden  fee  for  which  I  plead 
Were  for  myself :  and  so,  my  lord,  adieu. 

Glos.    If  you  thrive  well,  bring  them  to  Baynard's  Castle  ; 10 
Where  you  shall  find  me  well  accompanied 
With  reverend  fathers  and  well-learned  bishops. 

Buck.    I  go  ;  and  towards  three  or  four  o'clock 
Look  for  the  news  that  the  Guildhall  affords.  \_Exit. 

Glos.    Go,  Lovel,  with  all  speed  to  Doctor  Shaw, — 
\To  Cate.]    Go  thou  to  Friar  Penker  :  n  —  bid  them  both 
Meet  me  within  this  hour  at  Baynard's  Castle. — 

\_Exeunt  Lovel,  Catesby,  and  Ratcliff. 
Now  will  I  in,  to  take  some  privy  order, 
To  draw  the  brats  of  Clarence  out  of  sight ; 
And  to  give  notice  that  no  manner  person 12 
Have  any  time  recourse  unto  the  Princes.  \_Exit 

10  This  castle  was  built  by  Baynard,  a  nobleman  who  is  said  to  have  come 
in  with  William  the  Conqueror.  It  stood  on  the  bank  of  the  river  in 
Thames-street,  but  has  been  swept  away  by  the  commercial  necessities  of 
London. 

11  Dr.  Shaw  was  brother  to  the  Lord  Mayor;  Penker,  according  to 
Speed,  was  provincial  of  the  Augustine  friars;  and  both  were  popular 
preachers  of  the  time. 

12  The  expression  "  no  manner  person  "  is  according  to  the  idiom  of  the 
time.  —  "  The  brats  of  Clarence  "  were  Edward  and  Margaret,  known  after- 
wards as  Earl  of  Warwick  and  Countess  of  Salisbury. 


132  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

Scene  VI.  ■ — ■  The  Same.     A  Street. 

Enter  a  Scrivener.1 

Scriv.    Here  is  th'  indictment  of  the  good  Lord  Hastings ; 
Which  in  a  set  hand  fairly  is  engross 'd,2 
That  it  may  be  to-day  read  o'er  in  Paul's. 
And  mark  how  well  the  sequel  hangs  together : 
Eleven  hours  I  have  spent  to  write  it  over, 
For  yesternight  by  Catesby  was  it  sent  me ; 
The  precedent 3  was  full  as  long  a-doing  : 
And  yet  within  these  five  hours  Hastings  lived, 
Untainted,  unexamined,  free,  at  liberty. 
Here's  a  good  world  the  while  !     Why,  who's  so  gross 
That  cannot  see  this  palpable  device  ? 
Yet  who  so  bold  but  says  he  sees  it  not  ? 
Bad  is  the  world ;  and  all  will  come  to  naught 
When  such  ill  dealing  must  be  seen  in  thought.4  [Exit. 

1  A  scrivener  is,  literally,  a  writer  or  a  scribe.  The  term  was  applied  to 
a  class  of  men  whose  special  business  it  was  to  draw  up  or  to  transcribe 
legal  writings  and  instruments. 

2  To  engross,  as  the  word  is  here  used,  is  to  copy  legal  or  other  docu- 
ments in  a  clear,  legible  hand  for  public  use.  —  In  the  olden  time,  St.  Paul's 
Cathedral  was  used  as  a  sort  of  exchange,  and  all  sorts  of  notices  were 
posted  there  for  the  public  eye.  The  edifice  was  not  used  in  Shakespeare's 
time,  it  having  been  set  on  fire  by  a  stroke  of  lightning  and  the  roof  burnt 
off  early  in  Elizabeth's  reign.  The  present  St.  Paul's  was  not  built  till  the 
time  of  Charles  the  Second. 

3  The  original  draft  from  which  the  copy  was  made. 

4  "Seen  in  thought  is  seen  in  silence"  —  I  am  not  certain  whether  the  last 
word  of  the  preceding  line  should  be  nought  or  naught.    With  the  latter,  the 

'sense  is  about  the  same  as  in  our  phrase  of  " going  to  the  bad"    See  page 
50,  note  17. 


SCENE  VII.  KtNG    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 33 

Scene  VII.  —  The  Same.     Court  of  BaynarcFs  Castle. 
Enter  Gloster  and  Buckingham,  meeting. 

Glos.    How  now,  how  now  !  what  say  the  citizens  ? 

Buck.    Now,  by  the  hoty  Mother  of  our  Lord, 
The  citizens  are  mum,  say  not  a  word. 
j  Glos.   Touch'd  you  the  bastardy  of  Edward's  children  ? 

Buck.    I  did ;  with  his  contract  with  Lady  Lucy,5 
And  his  contract  by  deputy  in  France  ; 
Th'  insatiate  greediness  of  his  desires  ; 
His  tyranny  for  trifles  ;  his  own  bastardy  : 6 
Withal  I  did  infer 7  your  lineaments, 
Being  the  right  idea  8  of  your  father, 
Both  in  your  form  and  nobleness  of  mind ; 
Laid  open  all  your  victories  in  Scotland, 
Your  discipline  in  war,  wisdom  in  peace, 
Your  bounty,  virtue,  fair  humility ; 
Indeed,  left  nothing  fitting  for  the  purpose 
Untouch'd,  or  slightly  handled,  in  discourse  : 


5  The  King  had  been  familiar  with  this  lady  before  his  marriage  with  the 
present  Queen,  to  obstruct  which  his  mother  alleged  a  precontract  between 
them.  But  Elizabeth  Lucy,  being  sworn  to  speak  the  truth,  declared  that 
the  King  had  not  been  affianced  to  her.  Edward,  however,  had  been  mar- 
ried to  Lady  Eleanor  Butler,  widow  of  Lord  Butler  of  Sudley,  and  daughter 
to  the  great  Earl  of  Shrewsbury.  On  this  ground  his  children  were  de- 
clared illegitimate  by  the  only  Parliament  convened  by  Richard ;  but  nothing 
was  said  of  Elizabeth  Lucy. 

6  This  tale  is  supposed  to  have  been  first  propagated  by  the  Duke  of 
Clarence  when  he  obtained  a  settlement  of  the  crown  on  himself  and  his 
issue  after  the  death  of  Henry  VI.  Sir  Thomas  More  says  that  the  Duke 
of  Gloster,  soon  after  Edward's  death,  revived  this  scandal. 

7  Infer  again  as  explained  in  note  8,  page  130. 

8  Idea  is  here  used  in  the  right  classic  sense  of  image  or  likeness. 


134  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

And,  when  my  oratory  drew  toward  end, 

I  bade  them  that  did  love  their  country's  good 

Cry,  God  save  Richard,  England' 's  royal  King! 

Glos.   And  did  they  so  ? 

Buck.    No,  so  God  help  me,  they  spake  not  a  word ; 
But,  like  dumb  statuas  9  or  breathing  stones, 
Stared  each  on  other,  and  look'd  deadly  pale. 
Which  when  I  saw,  I  reprehended  them ; 
And  ask'd  the  Mayor  what  meant  this  wilful  silence  : 
His  answer  was,  The  people  were  not  used 
To  be  spoke  to  but  by  the  recorder. 
Then  he  was  urged  to  tell  my  tale  again : 
Thus  saith  the  duke,  thus  hath  the  duke  inferred ; 
But  nothing  spake  in  warrant  from  himself. 
When  he  had  done,  some  followers  of  mine  own, 
At  lower  end  o'  the  hall,  hurl'd  up  their  caps, 
And  some  ten  voices  cried,  God  save  King  Richard 7 
And  thus  I  took  the  vantage  of  those  few  : 
Thanks,  gentle  citizens  and  friends,  quoth  I ; 
This  general  applause  and  cheerful  shout 
Argues  your  wisdom  and  your  love  to  Richard  : 
And  even  here  brake  off,  and  came  away. 

Glos.t  What  tongueless  blocks  were  they  !  would  they  not 
speak  ? 

Buck.    No,  by  my  troth,  my  lord. 

Glos.    Will  not  the  Mayor,  then,  and  his  brethren,  come  ? 
'  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,10  good  my  lord  ; 

9  Statue  was  very  often  written  and  printed  statua,  as  a  trisyllable. 
1°  Churchmen  was  formerly  used  of  what  are  now  called  clergymen. 


SCENE  VII. 


KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  135 


For  on  that  ground  I'll  make  a  holy  descant :  n 

And  be  not  easily  won  to  our  request ; 

Play  the  maid's  part ;  still  answer  nay,  and  take  it. 

Glos.    I  go  ;  and  if  you  plead  as  well  for  them 
As  I  can  say  nay  to  thee  for  myself, 
No  doubt  we'll  bring  it  to  a  happy  issue. 

Buck.  Go,  go,  up  to  the  leads ; 12  the  Lord  Mayor  knocks.  — 

\_Exit  Gloster. 

Enter  the  Lord  Mayor,  Aldermen,  and  Citizens. 

Welcome,  my  lord  :  I  dance  attendance  here  ; 
I  think  the  duke  will,  not  be  spoke  withal.  — 

Enter,  from  the  Castle,  Catesby. 

Now,  Catesby,  what  says  your  lord  to  my  request  ? 

Cate.    He  doth  entreat  your  Grace,  my  noble  lord, 
To  visit  him  to-morrow  or  next  day  : 
He  is  within,  with  two  right-reverend  fathers, 
Divinely  bent  to  meditation ; 
And  in  no  worldly  suit  would  he  be  moved, 
To  draw  him  from  his  holy  exercise. 

Buck.    Return,  good  Catesby,  to  the  gracious  duke ; 
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  Grace. 

Cate.    I'll  signify  so  much  unto  him  straight.  [Exit. 

11  Ground  and  descant  were  technical  terms  in  music;  the  former  mean- 
ing the  original  air,  the  latter  the  variations. 

12  Formerly  many  buildings  were  roofed  with  lead.  "  Up  to  the  leads  " 
therefore  means  up  to  the  roof,  or  close  under  the  eaves ;  the  topmost  part 
of  the  building. 


I36  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  ill. 

Buck.   Ah,  ha,  my  lord,  this  prince  is  not  an  Edward  ! 
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 ; 
Not  sleeping,  to  engross13  his  idle  body, 
But  praying,  to  enrich  his  watchful  soul. 
Happy  were  England,  would  this  virtuous  prince  . 
Take  on  himself  the  sovereignty  thereof; 
But  sore  I  fear  we  shall  not  win  him  to  it. 

May.    Marry,  God  defend  his  Grace  should  say  us  nay  ! 

Buck.    I  fear  he  will.     Here  Catesby  comes  again.  — 

Re-enter  Catesby. 

Now,  Catesby,  what  says  his  Grace  ? 

Cate.    He  wonders  to  what  end  you  have  assembled 
Such  troops  of  citizens  to  come  to  him, 
His  Grace  not  being  warn'd  thereof  before  : 
He  fears,  my  lord,  you  mean  no  good  to  him. 

Buck.    Sorry  I  am  my  noble  cousin  should 
Suspect  me,  that  I  mean  no  good  to  him  : 
By  Heaven,  we  come  to  him  in  perfect  love ; 
And  so  once  more  return  and  tell  his  Grace.  — 

[Exit  Catesby. 
When  holy  and  devout  religious  men 

Are  at  their  beads,  'tis  much  to  draw  them  thence ; 
So  sweet  is  zealous  contemplation. 

Enter  Gloster,  in  a  gatteiy  above,  between  two  Bishops. 
Catesby  returns. 

May.   See,  where  his  Grace  stands  'tween  two  clergymen  ! 

13  That  is,  to  pamper,  fatten,  or  ?7iake gross. 


SCENE  VII.  KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  1 37 

Buck.   Two  props  of  virtue  for  a  Christian  prince, 
To  stay  him  from  the  fall  of  vanity  : 
And,  see,  a  book  of  prayer14  in  his  hand, — 
True  ornament  to  know  a  holy  man. — 
Famous  Plantagenet,  most  gracious  prince, 
Lend  favourable  ear  to  our  request ; 
And  pardon  us  the  interruption 
Of  thy  devotion  and  right  Christian  zeal. 

Glos.    My  lord,  there  needs  no  such  apology : 
I  rather  do  beseech  you  pardon  me, 
Who,  earnest  in  the  service  of  my  God, 
Neglect  the  visitation  of  my  friends. 
But,  leaving  this,  what  is  your  Grace's  pleasure? 

Buck.    Even  that,  I  hope,  which  pleaseth  God  above, 
And  all  good  men  of  this  ungovern'd  isle. 

Glos.    I  do  suspect  I  have  done  some  offence 
That  seems  disgracious  in  the  city's  eye ; 
And  that  you  come  to  reprehend  my  ignorance. 

Buck.   You  have,  my  lord  :  would  it  might  please  your 
Grace, 
On  our  entreaties,  to  amend  your  fault ! 

Glos.    Else  wherefore  breathe  I  in  a  Christian  land  ? 

Buck.    Know,  then,  it  is  your  fault  that  you  resign 
The  supreme  seat,  the  throne  majestical, 
The  scepter'd  office  of  your  ancestors, 
Your  state  of  fortune  and  your  due  of  birth, 
The  lineal  glory  of  your  royal  House, 
To  the  corruption  of  a  blemish'd  stock  : 
Whilst,  in  the  mildness  of  your  sleepy  thoughts,  — 

14  Prayer  is  used  by  Shakespeare  as  one  or  two  syllables  indifferently, 
to  suit  his  verse.  Here  it  is  a  dissyllable.  The  same  of  hour,  fire,  even, 
given,  power,  fiower,  toward  or  towards,  and  sundry  others. 


I38  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

Which  here  we  waken  to  our  country's  good, — 
This  noble  isle  doth  want  her  proper  limbs ; 
Her  face  defaced  with  scars  of  infamy, 
Her  royal  stock  graft  with  ignoble  plants, 
And  almost  shoulder'd  in 15  the  swallowing  gulf 
Of  dark  forgetfulness  and  deep  oblivion. 
Which  to  recure,16  we  heartily  solicit 
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, 
In  this  just  suit  come  I  to  move  your  Grace. 
Glos.    I  cannot  tell,  if  to  depart  in  silence, 
Or  bitterly  to  speak  in  your  reproof, 
Best  fitteth  my  degree  or  your  condition  : 
If  not  to  answer,  you  might  haply  think 
Tongue-tied  ambition,  not  replying,  yielded 
To  bear  the  golden  yoke  of  sovereignty, 

15  I?i  for  into,  the  two  being  often  used  indiscriminately.  —  To  shotelder, 
as  the  word  is  here  used,  is  to  thrust  or  heave  by  force  or  violence.  Stee- 
vens  quotes  a  similar  expression  from  Lyson's  Environs  of  London  :  "  Lyke 
tyraunts  and  lyke  madde  men  helpynge  to  shulderynge  other  of  the  sayd 
bannermen  ynto  the  dyche."  —  In  the  preceding  line,  graft  for  grafted,  as 
before  convict  for  convicted.     See  page  85,  note  14. 

16  To  recure  is  to  recover.  Spenser  has  the  word  repeatedly  in  the  same 
sense.     So  The  Faerie  Queene,  ii.  12,  19: 

Whose  mariners  and  merchants  with  much  toyle 
Labour 'd  in  vaine  to  have  recur  d  their  prize. 


SCENE  VII.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  139 

Which  fondly  you  would  here  impose  on  me ; 
If  to  reprove  you  for  this  suit  of  yours,     . 
So  season'd  with  your  faithful  love  to  me, 
Then,  on  the  other  side,  I  check'd  my  friends. 
Therefore,  —  to  speak,  and  to  avoid  the  first, 
And  then,  in  speaking,  not  t'  incur  the  last, — 
Definitively  thus  I  answer  you. 
Your  love  deserves  my  thanks  ;  but  my  desert 
Unmeritable 17  shuns  your  high  request. 
First,  if  all  obstacles  were  cut  away, 
And  that  my  path  were  even  to  the  crown, 
As  the  ripe  revenue  and  due  of  birth  ; 
Yet  so  much  is  my  poverty  of  spirit, 

So  mighty  and  so  many  my  defects, 

That  I  would  rather  hide  me  from  my  greatness  — 

Being  a  bark  to  brook  no  mighty  sea — 

Than  in  my  greatness  covet  to  be  hid, 

And  in  the  vapour  of  my  glory  smother'd. 

But,  God  be  thank'd,  there  is  no  need  of  me  • 

And  much  I  need,  to  help  you,  were  there  need  : 18 

The  royal  tree  hath  left  us  royal  fruit, 

Which,  mellow'd  by  the  stealing  hours  of  time, 

Will  well  become  the  seat  of  majesty, 

And  make,  no  doubt,  us  happy  by  his  reign. 

On  him  I  lay  what  you  would  lay  on  me, 

The  right  and  fortune  of  his  happy  stars ; 

Which  God  defend19  that  I  should  wring  from  him  ! 

17  Unmeritable  for  unmeriting.     This  indiscriminate  use  of  active  and 

passive  forms  occurs  very  often. 

is  "  And  I  fall  far  short  of  the  ability  to  help  you,  if  help  were  needed." 
19  "  God  defend"  is  the  same  as  God  forbid.     Repeatedly  used  thus  by 

Shakespeare;  and  a  common  usage  of  the  time. 


I40  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

Buck.    My  lord,  this  argues  conscience  in  your  Grace ; 
But  the  respects  thereof  are  nice  20  and  trivial, 
All  circumstances  well  considered. 
You  say  that  Edward  is  your  brother's  son  : 
So  say  we  too,  but  not  by  Edward's  wife ; 
For  first  he  was  contract  to  Lady  Lucy,  — 
Your  mother  lives  a  witness  to  his  vow,  — 
And  afterward  by  substitute  betroth'd 
To  Bona,  sister  to  the  King  of  France. 
These  both  put  by,  a  poor  petitioner, 
A  care-crazed  mother  of  a  many  children, 
A  beauty-waning  and  distressed  widow, 
Even  in  the  afternoon  of  her  best  days, 
Made  prize  and  purchase  of  his  wanton  eye, 
Seduced  the  pitch  and  height  of  his  degree 
To  base  declension  and  loathed  bigamy. 
More  bitterly  could  I  expostulate, 
Save  that,  for  reverence  to  some  alive,21 
I  give  a  sparing  limit  to  my  tongue. 
Then,  good  my  lord,  take  to  your  royal  self 
This  proffer'd  benefit  of  dignity  ; 
If  not  to  bless  us  and  the  land  withal, 
Yet  to  draw  forth  your  noble  ancestry 
From  the  corruption  of  abusing  time 
Unto  a  lineal  true -derived  course. 

May.    Do,  good  my  lord ;  your  citizens  entreat  you. 

Buck.   Refuse  not,  mighty  lord,  this  proffer'd  love. 

20  Respects  for  considerations  ;  a  frequent  sense  of  the  word.  —  Nice  here 
means  unimportant,  or,  perhaps,  over-scrupulous. 

21  Buckingham  here  hints  at  the  pretended  illegitimacy  of  Edward  and 
Clarence.  By  "some  alive"  he  means  the  Duchess  of  York,  the  mother  of 
Edward  and  Richard. 


SCENE  VII.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  I4I 

Cate.    O,  make  them  joyful,  grant  their  lawful  suit ! 

Glos.   Alas,  why  would  you  heap  those  cares  on  me  ? 
I  am  unfit  for  state  and  majesty. 
I  do  beseech  you,  take  it  not  amiss ; 
I  cannot  nor  I  will  not  yield  to  you. 

Buck.    If  you  refuse  it,  —  as,  in  love  and  zeal, 
Loth  to  depose  the  child,  your  brother's  son ; 
As  well  we  know  your  tenderness  of  heart, 
And  gentle,  kind,  effeminate  remorse,22 
Which  we  have  noted  in  you  to  your  kindred, 
And  equally  indeed  to  all  estates ;  — 
Yet,  whether  you  accept  our  suit  or  no, 
Your  brother's  son  shall  never  reign  our  King ; 
But  we  will  plant  some  other  in  the  throne, 
To  the  disgrace  and  downfall  of  your  House  : 
And  in  this  resolution  here  we  leave  you.  — 
Come,  citizens  :  zounds  !  I'll  entreat  no  more. 

Glos.   O,  do  not  swear,  my  Lord  of  Buckingham. 

\_Exit  Buckingham  :  the  Mayor,  Aldermen,  and 

Citizens  retiring. 

Cate.    Call  them  again,  sweet  prince,  accept  their  suit : 
If  you  deny  them,  all  the  land  will  rue  it. 

Glos.   Will  you  enforce  me  to  a  world  of  cares  ? 
Call  them  again. 

[Catesby  goes  to  the  Mayor,  <5rv.,  and  then  exit. 
—  I  am  not  made  of  stone, 
But  penetrable  to  your  kind  entreats, 
Albeit  against  my  conscience  and  my  soul.  — 

Re-enter  Buckingham  and  Catesby  ;  the  Mayor,  &c.}  coming 

forward. 

22  Remorse,  again,  for  pity or  compassion.    See  page  59,  note  16. 


142  KTNG    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  III. 

Cousin  of  Buckingham,  —  and  sage,  grave  men,  — 

Since  you  will  buckle  fortune  on  my  back, 

To  bear  her  burden,  wher  I  will  or  no, 

I  must  have  patience  to  endure  the  load : 

But,  if  black  scandal  or  foul-faced  reproach 

Attend  the  sequel  of  your  imposition, 

Your  mere  enforcement  shall  acquittance  23  me 

From  all  the  impure  blots  and  stains  thereof; 

For  God  he  knows,  and  you  may  partly  see, 

How  far  I  am  from  the  desire  of  this. 

May.    God  bless  your  Grace  !  we  see  it,  and  will  say  i  . 

Glos.    In  saying  so,  you  shall  but  say  the  truth. 

Buck.    Then  I  salute  you  with  this  royal  title  : 
Long  live  King  Richard,  England's  worthy  King  ! 

Mayor,  cfc.   Amen. 

Buck.   To-morrow  may  it  please  you  to  be  crown'd  ? 

Glos.    Even  when  you  please,  since  you  will  have  it  so. 

Buck.   To-morrow,  then,  we  will  attend  your  Grace  : 
And  so,  most  joyfully,  we  take  our  leave. 

Glos.    [To  the  Bishops.]    Come,  let  us  to  our  holy  work 
again.  — 
Farewell,  good  cousin ;  —  farewell,  gentle  friends.     [Exeunt. 

23  Acquittance  for  acquit,  because  the  verse  wanted  a  trisyllable. 


SCENE  I.  KING   RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 43 


ACT   IV. 

Scene  I.  —  London.     Before  the  Tozuer. 

Enter,  on  one  side,  Queen  Elizabeth,  Duchess  0/Yo-RK,  and 
Dorset  ;  on  the  other,  Anne  Duchess  of  Gloster,1  leading 
Lady  Margaret  Plantagenet,  Clarence's  young  Daugh- 
ter. 

Duch.   Who  meets  us  here?  my  niece  2  Plantagenet, 
Led  in  the  hand  of  her  kind  aunt  of  Gloster  ? 
Now,  for  my  life,  she's  wandering  to  the  Tower, 
On  pure  heart's  love,  to  greet  the  tender  Princes.  — 
Daughter,  well  met. 

Anne.  God  give  your  Graces  both 

A  happy  and  a  joyful  time  of  day  ! 

Q.  Eliz.    As  much  to  you,  good  sister  !     Whither  away  ? 

Anne.    No  further  than  the  Tower ;  and,  as  I  guess, 
Upon  the  like  devotion  as  yourselves, 
To  gratulate  the  gentle  Princes  there. 

Q.  Eliz.    Kind  sister,  thanks  :  we'll  enter  all  together : 
And,  in  good  time,  here  the  lieutenant  comes.  — 

Enter  Brakenbury. 

Master  lieutenant,  pray  you,  by  your  leave, 

1  We  have  not  seen  this  lady  since  the  second  scene  of  the  first  Act,  in 
vvhich  she  promised  to  meet  Richard  at  Crosby-place.  She  was  marrried  to 
him  about  the  year  1472. 

2  The  Duchess  is  speaking  to  what  we  should  call  her  grand-daughter. 
But  the  words  grand-son,  grand-daughter ,  grand-children,  are  not  used  by 
Shakespeare  at  all ;  their  places  being  supplied  by  nephew  and  niece  ;  some- 
times by  cousin. 


144  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

How  doth  the  Prince,  and  my  young  son  of  York  ? 

Brak.    Right  well,  dear  madam.     By  your  patience, 
I  may  not  suffer  you  to  visit  them ; 
The  King  hath  straitly  charged  the  contrary. 

Q.  Eliz.  The  King  !  who's  that? 

Brak.  I  mean  the  Lord  Protector. 

Q.  Eliz.   The  Lord  protect  him  from  that  kingly  title  ! 
Hath  he  set  bounds  between  their  love  and  me  ? 
I  am  their  mother ;  who  shall  bar  me  from  them  ? 

Duch.    I  am  their  father's  mother ;  I  will  see  them. 

Anne.   Their  aunt  I  am  in  law,  in  love  their  mother  : 
Then  bring  me  to  their  sights  ;  I'll  bear  thy  blame, 
And  take  thy  office  from  thee,  on  my  peril. 

Brak.    No,  madam,  no  ;  I  may  not  leave  it  so  : 3 
I'm  bound  by  oath,  and  therefore  pardon  me.  [Exit. 

Enter  Stanley. 

Stan.    Let  me  but  meet  you,  ladies,  one  hour  hence, 
And  I'll  salute  your  Grace  of  York  as  mother, 
And  reverend  looker-on,  of  two  fair  queens.  — 
[To  Anne.]  Come,  madam,  you  must  straight  to  Westminster, 
'There  to  be  crowned  Richard's  royal  Queen. 

Q.  Eliz.   Ah,  cut  my  lace  asunder, 
That  my  pent  heart  may  have  some  scope  to  beat, 
Or  else  I  swoon  with  this  dead-killing  news  ! 

Anne.   Despiteful  tidings  !     O  unpleasing  news  ! 

Dor.   Be  of  good  cheer  : — mother,  how  fares  your  Grace  ? 

Q.  Eliz.   O  Dorset,  speak  not  to  me,  get  thee  hence  ! 
Death  and  destruction  dog  thee  at  the  heels ; 
Thy  mother's  name  is  ominous  to  children. 

3  He  refers  to  his  office  or  charge,  which  she  has  offered  to  take  upon 
herself  at  her  own  risk  or  peril. 


•SCENE  I.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  145 

If  thou  wilt  outstrip  death,  go  cross  the  seas, 
And  live  with  Richmond,  from  the  reach  of  Hell : 
Go,  hie  thee,  hie  thee  from  this  slaughter-house, 
Lest  thou  increase  the  number  of  the  dead ; 
And  make  me  die  the  thrall  of  Margaret's  curse, 
Nor  mother,  wife,  nor  England's  counted  Queen. 

Stan.    Full  of  wise  care  is  this  your  counsel,  madam.  — 
Take  all  the  swift  advantage  of  the  hours ; 
You  shall  have  letters  from  me  to  my  son 
In  your  behalf,  to  meet  you  on  the  way : 
Be  not  ta'en  tardy  by  unwise  delay. 

Duch.    O  ill-dispersing  wind  of  misery  !  — 
O  my  accursed  womb,  the  bed  of  death  ! 
A  cockatrice  4  hast  thou  hatch'd  to  the  world, 
Whose  unavoided  eye  is  murderous. 

Stan.    Come,  madam,  come  ;  I  in  all  haste  was  sent. 

Anne.   And  I  in  all  unwillingness  will  go.  — • 
O,  would  to  God  that  the  inclusive  verge 
Of  golden  metal  that  must  round  my  brow 
Were  red-hot  steel,  to  sear  me  to  the  brain  I5 


4  The  cockatrice  was  so  called  from  its  fabled  generation  from  the  egg  of 
a  cock ;  the  term  being  derived  from  cock  and  after,  Anglo-Saxon  for  adder. 
Cockatrice,  it  seems,  was  but  another  name  for  the  basilisk.  So  in  Browne's 
Vulgar  Errors,  Book  iii.  chap.  7  :  "  Many  opinions  are  passant  concerning 
the  basilisk,  or  little  king  of  serpents,  commonly  called  the  cockatrice." 
And  again :  "  As  for  the  generation  of  the  basilisk,  that  it  proceedeth  from 
a  cock's  egg,  hatched  under  a  toad  or  serpent,  it  is  a  conceit  as  monstrous 
as  the  brood  itself."     See  page  59,  note  15. 

5  She  seems  to  allude  to  the  ancient  mode  of  punishing  a  regicide,  or 
other  criminals,  by  placing  a  crown  of  iron  heated  red-hot  upon  his  head. 
In  some  of  the  monkish  accounts  of  a  place  of  future  torments,  a  burning 
crown  is  likewise  appropriated  to  those  who  deprived  any  lawful  monarch 
of  his  kingdom.  The  Earl  of  Athol,  who  was  executed  for  the  murder  of 
James  I.,  King  of  Scots,  was  previous  to  death  crowned  with  a  hot  iron. 


I46  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

Anointed  let  me  be  with  deadly  venom ; 

And  die,  ere  men  can  say,  God  save  the  Queen  ! 

Q.  Eliz.    Go,  go,  poor  soul,  I  envy  not  thy  glory ; 
To  feed  my  humour,  wish  thyself  no  harm. 

Anne.    No  !  why  ?     When  he  that  is  my  husband  now 
Came  to  me,  as  I  follow'd  Henry's  corse ; 
When  scarce  the  blood  was  well  wash'd  from  his  hands 
Which  issued  from  my  other  angel  husband, 
And  that  dead  saint  which  then  I  weeping  follow'd  ; 
O,  when,  I  say,  I  look'd  on  Richard's  face, 
This  was  my  wish  :  Be  thou,  quoth  I,  accursed, 
For  making  me,  so  young,  so  old  a  widow  ! 
And,  when  thou  wedd'st,  let  sorrow  haunt  thy  bed ; 
And  be  thy  wife  —  if  any  be  so  mad — 
More  miserable  by  the  life  of  thee 
Than  thou  hast  made  me  by  my  dear  lord's  death  / 
Lo,  ere  I  can  repeat  this  curse  again, 
Even  in  so  short  a  space,  my  woman's  heart 
Grossly  grew  captive  to  his  honey  words, 
And  proved  the  subject  of  mine  own  soul's  curse, 
Which  ever  since  hath  kept  mine  eyes  from  rest ; 
For  never  yet  one  hour  in  his  bed 
Have  I  enjoy'd  the  golden  dew  of  sleep, 
But  have  been  waked  by  his  timorous  dreams.6 
Besides,  he  hates  me  for  my  father  Warwick ; 
And  will,  no  doubt,  shortly  be  rid  of  me. 


6  This  is  from  the  History :  "  He  tooke  ill  rest  a  nights,  laie  long  waking 
and  musing,  sore  wearied  with  care  and  watch,  rather  slumbered  than 
slept,  troubled  with  fear  full  dreames,  suddenlie  sometime  start  up,  lept  out 
of  his  bed,  and  ran  about  the  chamber ;  so  was  his  restless  heart  continu- 
allie  tossed  and  tumbled  with  the  tedious  impression  and  stormie  remem- 
brance of  his  abhominable  deed." 


SCENE  I  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  147 

Q.  Eliz.    Poor  heart,  adieu  !  I  pity  thy  complaining. 

Anne.    No  more  than  from  my  soul  I  mourn  for  yours. 

Q.  Eliz.    Farewell,  thou  woeful  welcomer  of  glory  ! 

Anne.   Adieu,  poor  soul,  that  takest  thy  leave  of  it ! 

Duch.    \_To  Dorset.]    Go  thou  to  Richmond,  and  good 
fortune  guide  thee  !  — 
\To  Anne.]    Go   thou  to   Richard,  and  good  angels  tend 

thee  !  — 
\To  Elizabeth.]    Go  thou  to  sanctuary,  and  good  thoughts 

possess  thee  !  — 
I  to  my  grave,  where  peace  and  rest  lie  with  me  ! 
Eighty  odd  years 7  of  sorrow  have  I  seen, 
And  each  hour's  joy  wreck'd  with  a  week  of  teen.8 

Q.  Eliz.    Stay  yet,  look  back  with  me  unto  the  Tower. — 
Pity,  you  ancient  stones,  those  tender  babes, 
Whom  envy  hath  immured  within  your  walls  ! 
Rough  cradle  for  such  little  pretty  ones  ! 
Rude  ragged  nurse,  old  sullen  playfellow 
For  tender  princes,  use  my  babies  well ! 
So  foolish  sorrow  bids  your  stones  farewell.  \_Exeunt. 

7  Shakespeare  seems  here  to  have  spoken  at  random.  The  present  scene 
is  in  1483.  Richard  Duke  of  York,  the  husband  of  this  lady,  had  he  been 
then  living,  would  have  been  but  seventy-three  years  old,  and  we  may  rea- 
sonably suppose  she  was  not  older :  nor  did  she  go  speedily  to  the  grave ; 
she  lived  till  1495. 

8  Teen  seems  to  have  been  rather  a  favourite  word  with  the  Poet  for 
grief  ox  sorrow.     See  The  Tempest,  page  51,  note  15, 


I48  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 


Scene  II. —  The  Same.     A  Room  of  State  in  the  Palace. 

Sennet.     Enter  Richard,  crowned;  Buckingham,  Catesby, 
a  Page,  and  others. 

K.  Rich.   Stand  all  apart.  —  Cousin  of  Buckingham, — 

Buck.    My  gracious  sovereign? 

K.  Rich.   Give  me  thy  hand.    \_Ascends  the  throne.~\  Thus 
high,  by  thy  advice 
And  thy  assistance,  is  King  Richard  seated  : 
But  shall  we  wear  these  honours  for  a  day  ? 
Or  shall  they  last,  and  we  rejoice  in  them? 

Buck.    Still  live  they,  and  for  ever  let  them  last ! 

K.  Rich.   Ah,  Buckingham,  now  do  I  play  the  touch,1 
To  try  if  thou  be  current  gold  indeed  : 
Young  Edward  lives  ;  think  now  what  I  would  speak. 

Buck.    Say  on,  my  loving  lord. 

K.  Rich.    Why,  Buckingham,  I  say,  I  would  be  king. 

Buck.   Why,  so  you  are,  my  thrice-renowned  liege. 

K.  Rich.    Ha  !  am  I  king  ?  'tis  so  :  but  Edward  lives. 

Buck.   True,  noble  prince. 

K.  Rich.  O  bitter  consequence, 

That  Edward  still  should  live  !     True,  noble  prince  I — 
Cousin,  thou  wert  not  wont  to  be  so  dull: 
Shall  I  be  plain  ?     I  wish  the  bastards  dead ; 
And  I  would  have  it  suddenly  perform'd. 
What  say'st  thou  now  ?  speak  suddenly,2  be  brief. 

Buck.   Your  Grace  may  do  your  pleasure. 

K.  Rich.   Tut,  tut,  thou  art  all  ice,  thy  kindness  f>  jzes  : 

1  To  play  the  touch  is  to  do  the  office  of  the  touchstone,  that  is,  a  test,  to 
prove  the  quality  of  a  thing. 

2  Suddenly  is  here  the  same  as  quickly. 


SCENE  II.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  I49 

Say,  have  I  thy  consent  that  they  shall  die  ? 

Buck.    Give  me  some  breath,  some  little  pause,  my  lord, 
Before  I  positively  speak  herein  : 
I  will  resolve3  your  Grace  immediately.  [Exit. 

Cate.    [Aside  to  another.']    The  King  is  angry;    see,  he 
gnaws  his  lip. 

K.  Rich.    I  will  converse  with  iron- witted  fools 
And  unrespective  boys  :4  [Descends  from  his  throne. 

none  are  for  me 
That  look  into  me  with  considerate  eyes  : 
High-reaching  Buckingham  grows  circumspect. — 
Boy!  — 

Page.    My  lord? 

K.  Rich.    Know'st  thou  not  any  whom  corrupting  gold 
Would  tempt  unto  a  close  exploit  of  death  ? 

Page.    I  know  a  discontented  gentleman, 
Whose  humble  means  match  not  his  haughty  mind  : 
Gold  were  as  good  as  twenty  orators, 
And  will,  no  doubt,  tempt  him  to  any  thing. 

K.  Rich.    What  is  his  name  ? 

Page.  His  name,  my  lord,  is  Tyrrel. 

K.  Rich.    I  partly  know  the  man  :  go  call  him  hither.  — 

[Exit  Page. 
The  deep-revolving  witty5  Buckingham 

No  more  shall  be  the  neighbour  to  my  counsels  : 

Hath  he  so  long  held  out  with  me  untired, 

And  stops  he  now  for  breath  ?  well,  be  it  so.  — 

3  Resolve  in  the  sense  of  inform  or  satisfy  ;  a  frequent  usage. 

4  Unt'^fective  is  inconsiderate  or  unthoughtful ;  in  accordance  with  the 
old  use  of  respect.     See  page  140,  note  20. 

6  Witty  was  employed  to  signify  a  man  0/ sagacity,  wisdom,  or  judgment  ; 
or,  as  Baret  defines  it,  "  having  the  senses  sharp,  perceiving  or  foreseeing 
quicklie." 


I50  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

Enter  Stanley. 

How  now  !  what  news  with  you  ? 

Stan.    My  lord,  I  hear  the  Marquess  Dorset's  fled 
To  Richmond,  in  those  parts  beyond  the  seas 
Where  he  abides. 

K.  Rich.    Come  hither,  Catesby  :  rumour  it  abroad 

That  Anne,  my  wife,  is  very  grievous  sick ; 

I  will  take  order  for  her  keeping  close. 

Inquire  me  out  some  mean-born  gentleman, 

Whom  I  will  marry  straight  to  Clarence'  daughter ; 

The  boy  is  foolish,6  and  I  fear  not  him. 

Look,  how  thou  dream'st !     I  say  again,  give  out 

That  Anne  my  Queen  is  sick,  and  like  to  die  : 

About  it ;  for  it  stands  me  much  upon,7 

To  stop  all  hopes  whose  growth  may  damage  me.  —     . 

\_Exit  Catesby. 
I  must  be  married  to  my  brother's  daughter, 

Or  else  my  kingdom  stands  on  brittle  glass  : 

Murder  her  brothers,  and  then  marry  her  ! 

Uncertain  way  of  gain  !     But  I  am  in 

So  far  in  blood,  that  sin  will  pluck  on  sin  : 

Tear-falling  pity  dwells  not  in  this  eye.  — 

Re-enter  the  Page,  with  Tyrrel. 

6  This  youth,  who  is  known  in  history  as  Edward  Earl  of  Warwick,  was 
at  that  time  but  about  ten  years  old.  He  was  put  to  death  by  Henry  VII.  in 
1499  ;  he  being  then  the  only  surviving  male  of  the  Plantagenet  name.  The 
chroniclers  represent  him  as  little  better  than  an  idiot ;  but  his  stupidity  was 
most  likely  the  result  of  cruel  treatment;  he  being  confined  immediately 
after  the  battle  of  Bosworth,  and  his  education  totally  neglected.  It  was  the 
interest  of  the  reigning  powers  to  make  him  "foolish,"  or  at  least  to  have 
him  thought  so. 

7  This  is  an  old  idiomatic  phrase  for  it  behoves  me,  or,  as  we  should  now 
say,  it  stands  me  in  ha?id.    See  King  Richard  II.,  page  94,  note  14. 


scene  II.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 5 1 

Is  thy  name  Tyrrel? 

Tyr.   James  Tyrrel,  and  your  most  obedient  subject. 

K.  Rich.    Art  thou  indeed? 

Tyr.  Prove  me,  my  gracious  sovereign. 

K.  Rich.    Darest  thou  resolve  to  kill  a  friend  of  mine  ? 

Tyr.   Ay,  my  lord ; 
But  I  had  rather  kill  two  enemies. 

K.  Rich.   Why,  then  thou  hast  it :  two  deep  enemies, 
Foes  to  my  rest  and  my  sweet  sleep's  disturbers, 
Are  they  that  I  would  have  thee  deal  upon : 
Tyrrel,  I  mean  those  bastards  in  the  Tower. 

Tyr.    Let  me  have  open  means  to  come  to  them, 
And  soon  I'll  rid  you  from  the  fear  of  them. 

K.  Rich.   Thou  sing'st  sweet  music.     Hark,  come  hither, 
Tyrrel : 
Go,  by  this  token  :  rise,  and  lend  thine  ear  :  [  Whiskers. 

There  is  no  more  but  so  :  say  it  is  done, 
And  I  will  love  thee,  and  prefer  thee  for  it. 

Tyr.   I  will  dispatch  it  straight.  [Exit. 

Re-enter  Buckingham. 

Buck.    My  lord,  I  have  consider' d  in  my  mind 
The  late  demand  that  you  did  sound  me  in. 

K.  Rich.   Well,  let  that  rest.     Dorset  is  fled  to  Richmond. 

Buck.    I  hear  the  news,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.    Stanley,  he  is  your  wife's  son  :  well,  look  to  it. 

Buck.    My  lord,  I  claim  the  gift,  my  due  by  promise, 
For  which  your  honour  and  your  faith  is  pawn'd ; 
Th'  earldom  of  Hereford,  and  the  movables, 
The  which  you  promised  I  should  possess. 

K.  Rich.    Stanley,  look  to  your  wife  :  if  she  convey 
Letters  to  Richmond,  you  shall  answer  it. 


152  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

Buck.   What  says  your  Highness  to  my  just  request  ? 

K.  Rich.    I  do  remember  me,  Henry  the  Sixth 
Did  prophesy  that  Richmond  should  be  king, 
When  Richmond  was  a  little  peevish  boy. 
A  king  !  —  perhaps  — 

Buck.    My  lord,  — 

K.  Rich.  How  chance  the  prophet  could  not  at  that  time 
Have  told  me,  I  being  by,  that  I  should  kill  him  ? 

Buck.    My  lord,  your  promise  for  the  earldom,  — 

K.  Rich.    Richmond  !     When  last  I  was  at  Exeter, 
The  mayor  in  courtesy  show'd  me  the  castle, 
And  call'd  it  Rouge-mont :  at  which  name  I  started, 
Because  a  bard  of  Ireland  told  me  once, 
I  should  not  live  long  after  I  saw  Richmond. 

Buck.   My  lord,  — 

K.  Rich.    Ay,  what's  o'clock? 

Buck.    I  am  thus  bold  to  put  your  Grace  in  mind 
Of  what  you  promised  me. 

K.  Rich.  Well,  but  what's  o'clock? 

Buck.   Upon  the  stroke  of  ten. 

K.  Rich.  Well,  let  it  strike. 

Buck.   Why  let  it  strike  ? 

K.  Rich.    Because  that,  like  a  Jack,8  thou  keep'st  the  stroke 
Betwixt  thy  begging  and  my  meditation. 
I  am  not  in  the  giving  vein  to-day. 

8  This  alludes  to  the  Jack  of  the  clock,  which  was  a  figure  made  in  old 
clocks  to  strike  the  bell  on  the  outside.  Richard  compares  Buckingham  to 
one  of  the  automatons,  and  bids  him  not  to  suspend  the  stroke  on  the 
clock  bell,  but  strike,  that  the  noise  may  be  past,  and  himself  at  liberty  to 
pursue  his  meditations.  The  following  passage  from  Cotgrave  will  further 
elucidate  its  meaning :  "  A  jacke  of  the  clocke-house  ;  a  little  busie-body, 
medlar,  Jack-stickler  ;  one  that  has  an  oare  in  every  man's  boat,  or  his  hand 
in  every  man's  dish." 


SCENE  ill.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  153 

Buck.   Why,  then  resolve  me  whether  you  will  or  no. 

K.  Rich.   Thou  troublest  me ;  I  am  not  in  the  vein. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Buckingham. 

Buck.    Is  it  even  so  ?  rewards  he  my  true  service 
With  such  contempt  ?  made  I  him  king  for  this  ? 
O,  let  me  think  on  Hastings,  and  be  gone 
To  Brecknock,9  while  my  fearful  head  is  on  !  [Exit 


Scene  III.  —  Another  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  Tyrrel. 

Tyr.   The  tyrannous  and  bloody  act  is  done, 
The  most  arch  deed  of  piteous  massacre 
That  ever  yet  this  land  was  guilty  of. 
Dighton  and  Forrest,  whom  I  did  suborn 
To  do  this  ruthless  piece  of  butchery, 
Albeit  they  were  flesh'd  1  villains,  bloody  dogs, 
Melting  with  tenderness  and  mild  compassion, 
Wept  like  two  children  in  their  death's  sad  story. 
O,  thus,  quoth  Dighton,  lay  the  gentle  babes,  — 
Thus,  thus,  quoth  Forrest,  girdling  one  another 
Within  their  innocent  alabaster  arms  : 
Their  lips  were  fotcr  red  roses  on  a  stalk, 
Which  in  their  sum??ier  beauty  kissed  each  other. 
A  book  of  prayers  on  their  pillow  lay  ; 

9  Brecknock  was  the  name  of  Buckingham's  castle  in  Wales. 

1  The  verb  to  fiesh  is  defined  by  Richardson  "  to  train,  to  inure,  to  in- 
dulge, to  glut  or  satiate."  So  in  Henry  V.,  iii.  i :  "  And  the  fieslid  soldier 
rough   and  hard   of  heart,"  &c.      Also   in   Drayton's   Miseries  of  Queer. 

Margaret : 

Both  which  werej?eskt  abundantly  with  blood 

In  those  three  battles  they  had  won  before. 


154  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

Which  once,  quoth  Forrest,  almost  changed  my  mind ; 
But,  0,  the  Devil — there  the  villain  stopp'd; 
When  Dighton  thus  told  on  :    We  smothered 
The  most  replenished  sweet  work  of  Nature, 
That  from  the  prime  creation  e'er  she  framed. 
Hence  both  are  gone  with  conscience  and  remorse,2 
They  could  not  speak ;  and  so  I  left  them  both, 
To  bear  this  tidings  to  the  bloody  King : 
And  here  he  comes.  — 

Enter  King  Richard. 

All  health,  my  sovereign  lord  ! 

K.  Rich.    Kind  Tyrrel,  am  I  happy  in  thy  news  ? 

Tyr.    If  to  have  done  the  thing  you  gave  in  charge 
Beget  your  happiness,  be  happy  then, 
For  it  is  done. 

K.  Rich,  But  didst  thou  see  them  dead? 

Tyr.    I  did,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  And  buried,  gentle  Tyrrel? 

Tyr.   The  chaplain  of  the  Tower  hath  buried  them ; 
But  where,  to  say  the  truth,  I  do  not  know. 

K.  Rich.    Come  to  me,  Tyrrel,  soon  at 3  after  supper, 
When  thou  shalt  tell  the  process  of  their  death. 
Meantime,  but  think  how  I  may  do  thee  good, 
And  be  inheritor  of  thy  desire. 
Farewell  till  then. 

Tyr.  I  humbly  take  my  leave.  \_Exit. 

K.  Rich.   The  son  of  Clarence  have  I  pent  up  close  ; 

2  "  Conscience  and  remorse  "  probably  means  what  we  call  remorse  of 
conscience,  or,  simply,  remorse. 

3  Shakespeare  has  the  phrase  soon  at  several  times  in  the  sense  of  about. 
See  The  Merchant,  page  114,  note  1. 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  155 

His  daughter  meanly  have  I  match' d  in  marriage  ;4 
The  sons  of  Edward  sleep  in  Abraham's  bosom, 
And  Anne  my  wife  hath  bid  the  world  good  night. 
Now,  for  I  know  the  Bretagne  5  Richmond  aims 
At  young  Elizabeth,  my  brother's  daughter, 
And,  by  that  knot,  looks  proudly  on  the  crown, 
To  her  go  I,  a  jolly  thriving  wooer. 

Enter  Catesby. 

Cafe.    My  lord,  — 

K.  Rich.    Good  news   or  bad,   that  thou   comest   in   so 
bluntly? 

Cate.    Bad  news,  my  lord  :  Ely  is  fled  to  Richmond ; 
And  Buckingham,  back'd  with  the  hardy  Welshmen, 
Is  in  the  field,  and  still  his  power  increaseth. 

K.  Rich.    Ely  with  Richmond  troubles  me  more  near 
Than  Buckingham  and  his  rash-levied  strength. 
Come,  I  have  learn'd  that  fearful  commenting 
Is  leaden  servitor  to  dull  delay ; 6 
Delay  leads  impotent  and  snail-paced  beggary : 
Then  fiery  expedition  be  my  wing, 

4  The  daughter  of  Clarence  was  in  fact  married  to  Sir  Richard  Pole,  and 
hence  became  the  mother  of  Cardinal  Pole.  Sir  Richard  was  half-brother 
to  the  Countess  of  Richmond. 

5  He  thus  denominates  Richmond,  because  after  the  battle  of  Tewksbury 
he  had  taken  refuge  in  the  Court  of  Francis  II.,  Duke  of  Bretagne,  where 
by  the  procurement  of  Edward  IV.  he  was  kept  a  long  time  in  honourable 
custody. 

6  Fearful  commenting  is  timorous  or  cowardly  reflection  or  deliberation; 
leaden  of  course  is  heavy  or  sluggish  ;  servitor  is  an  old  form  for  servant ; 
used  whenever  a  trisyllable  is  wanted  with  that  meaning ;  and  delay  is  put 
for  procrastination  or  reluctance  to  act.  So  that  the  sense  is,  cowardly  de- 
liberation is  the  tardy,  lingering  slave  of  a  procrastinating  spirit  or  master. 
The  meaning  of  the  next  line  is,  that  procrastination  leads  on  to  or  super- 
induces feeble  and  creeping  or  slow-footed  beggary. 


156  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

Jove's  Mercury,  and  herald  for  a  king  !  7 

Go,  muster  men  :  my  counsel  is  my  shield  ;  8 

We  must  be  brief,  when  traitors  brave  the  field.9       [Exeunt. 


Scene  IV.  —  The  Same.     Before  the  Palaee. 

Enter  Queen  Margaret. 

Q.  Mar.    So,  now  prosperity  begins  to  mellow, 
And  drop  into  the  rotten  mouth  of  death. 
Here  in  these  confines  slily  have  I  lurk'd, 
To  watch  the  waning  of  mine  enemies. 
A  dire  induction l  am  I  witness  to, 
And  will  to  France  ;  hoping  the  consequence 
Will  prove  as  bitter,  black,  and  tragical. 
Withdraw  thee,  wretched  Margaret :  who  comes  here  ? 

[Retires. 

Enter  Queen  Elizabeth  and  the  Duchess  ^/"York. 

Q.  Eliz.   Ah,  my  poor  Princes  !  ah,  my  tender  babes  ! 
My  unblown  flowers,  new-appearing  sweets  ! 
If  yet  your  gentle  souls  fly  in  the  air, 
And  be  not  fix'd  in  doom  perpetual, 
Hover  about  me  with  your  airy  wings, 

7  "  Let  my  action  be  winged  with  the  speed  of  lightning."  Mercury  was 
the  old  god  of  dispatch,  and  so  was  Jupiter's  expressman.  The  text  is  made 
somewhat  obscure  by  the  omission  of  the  relative  ;  the  sense  being  "  expe- 
dition who  is  Jove's  Mercury,  and  so  is  a  king's  proper  herald." 

8  "  My  shield  is  my  counsel,  and  shall  deliberate  the  matter  for  me."  He 
means  that  he  is  going  to  discuss  or  debate  the  issue  not  with  words,  but 
with  knocks. 

9  To  "  brave  the  field  "  is,  probably,  to  challenge,  dare,  or  defy  one  to  the 
field  or  to  battle.  —  Brief,  again,  for  quick  or  speedy. 

1  Induction  here  is  prologue  ox  preparation.     See  page  47,  note  7. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  i5/ 

And  hear  your  mother's  lamentation  ! 

Q.  Mar.    [Aside.~\    Hover  about  her ;  say,  that  rignt  for 
right 
Hath  dimm'd  your  infant  morn  to  aged  night.2 

Duch.    So  many  miseries  have  crazed  my  voice, 
That  my  woe-wearied  tongue  is  still  and  mute. — 
Edward  Plantagenet,  why  art  thou  dead  ? 

Q.  Mar.  [Aside. ~]    Plantagenet  doth  quit3  Plantagenet, 
Edward  for  Edward  pays  a  dying  debt. 

Q.  Eliz.   Wilt  Thou,  O  God,  fly  from  such  gentle  lambs, 
And  throw  them  in  the  entrails  of  the  wolf? 
When  didst  Thou  sleep  while  such  a  deed  was  done? 

Q.  Mar.    [Aside. ,]    When  holy  Harry  died,  and  my  sweet 
son. 

Duch.    Dead  life,  blind  sight,  poor  mortal  living  ghost, 
Woe's  scene,  world's  shame,  grave's  due  by  life  usurp'd, 
Brief  abstract  and  record  of  tedious  days, 
Rest  thy  unrest  on  England's  lawful  earth,4       [Sitting  down. 
Unlawfully  made  drunk  with  innocent  blood  ! 

Q.  Eliz.    Ah,  that  thou  wouldst  as  soon  afford  a  grave 
As  thou  canst  yield  a  jnelancholy  seat ! 

2  Meaning,  apparently,  that  the  Divine  Justice,  which  was  alleged  in  i.  3, 
as  having  righted  others  against  her,  and  avenged  the  death  of  Rutland  by 
that  of  her  son  Edward,  is  now  turning  upon  her  side,  and  righting  her 
against  others. 

3  To  quit  was  often  used  for  to  acquit,  and  also  for  to  requite.  Here  it 
may  have  either  sense ;  perhaps  it  has  both  senses.  Margaret  may  regard 
the  death  of  her  Edward  as  having  been  avenged  by  that  of  the  other 
Edward ;  or  she  may  think  of  the  latter  as  offsetting,  or  atoning  for,  the 
former  :  so  that  the  requital  may  itself  serve  for  an  acquittal.  —  To  "  pay  a 
dying  debt  "  is,  I  suppose,  to  pay  a  debt  by  dying. 

4  It  is  not  very  apparent  why,  or  in  what  sense,  lawful  is  here  used : 
perhaps  merely  for  a  verbal  antithesis  to  unlawful.  Or  is  the  speaker  re- 
garding England  as  the  proper  seat  of  order  and  law? 


158  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  act  IV. 

Then  would  I  hide  my  bones,  not  rest  them  here. 
Ah,  who  hath  any  cause  to  mourn  but  I  ? 

[^Sitting  down  by  her. 

Q.  Mar.    \  Coming  forward^    If  ancient  sorrow  be  most 
reverend, 
Give  mine  the  benefit  of  seniory,5 
And  let  my  griefs  frown  on  the  upper  hand. 
If  sorrow  can  admit  society,  [Sitting  down  with  them. 

Tell  o'er  your  woes  again  by  viewing  mine  : 
I  had  an  Edward,  till  a  Richard  kill'd  him ; 
I  had  a  Harry,  till  a  Richard  kill'd  him  : 
Thou  Tiaclst  an  Edward,  till  a  Richard  kill'd  him  ; 
Thou  hadst  a  Richard,  till  a  Richard  kill'd  him. 

Duch.    I  had  a  Richard  too,  and  thou  didst  kill  him ; 
I  had  a  Rutland  too,  thou  holp'st  to  kill  him. 

Q.  Mar.   Thou  hadst  a  Clarence  too,  and  Richard  kill'd 
him. 
From  forth  the  kennel  of  thy  womb  hath  crept 
A  hell-hound  that  doth  hunt  us  all  to  death  : 
That  dog,  that  had  his  teeth  before  his  eyes,6 
To  worry  lambs,  and  lap  their  gentle  blood ; 
That  foul  defacer  of  God's  handiwork ; 
That  excellent-grand  tyrant  of  the  Earth, 

5  Seniory  is  but  a  shortened  form  of  seniority.  —  Ancient  here  has  the 
sense  of  aged  or  veteran.  Margaret's  sorrow  is  older  than  that  of  the  others. 
—  To  "  frown  on  the  upper  hand"  is  to  have  precedence  in  the  right  of 
expression. 

6  Alluding  to  the  tradition  that  Richard,  at  his  birth,  had  his  mouth 
armed  with  teeth.  So,  in  v.  6,  of  the  preceding  play,  Richard  says  in  refer- 
ence to  his  birth, 

The  midwife  wonder'd,  and  the  women  cried, 
O,  Jesus  bless  us,  he  is  borti  with  teeth  f 
And  so  I  was;  which  plainly  signified 
That  I  should  snarl,  and  bite,  and  play  the  dog. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 59 

That  reigns  in  galled  eyes 7  of  weeping  souls  ; 

Thy  womb  let  loose,  to  chase  us  to  our  graves. — 

O  upright,  just,  and  true-disposing  God, 

How  do  I  thank  Thee,  that  this  carnal8  cur 

Preys  on  the  issue  of  his  mother's  body, 

And  makes  her  pew-fellow9  with  others'  moan  ! 

Duch.    O  Harry's  wife,  triumph  not  in  my  woes  ! 
God  witness  with  me,  I  have  wept  for  thine. 

Q.  Mar.    Bear  with  me  ;  I  am  hungry  for  revenge, 
And  now  I  cloy  me  with  beholding  it. 
Thy  Edward  he  is  dead,  that  kill'd  my  Edward ; 
Thy  other  Edward  dead,  to  quit  my  Edward ; 
Young  York  he  is  but  boot,10  because  both  they 
Match  not  the  high  perfection  of  my  loss  : 
Thy  Clarence  he  is  dead  that  stabb'd  my  Edward ; 
And  the  beholders  of  this  tragic  play, 
Th'  adulterate11  Hastings,  Rivers,  Vaughan,  Grey, 
Untimely  smother'd  in  their  dusky  graves. 
Richard  yet  lives,  Hell's  black  intelligencer ; 
Only  reserved  their12  factor,  to  buy  souls, 
And  send  them  thither  :  but  at  hand,  at  hand, 

7  Eyes  inflamed  with  weeping,  or  made  red  with  "  eye-offending  brine." 
So  in  Hamlet,  i.  2 :  "  The  salt  of  most  unrighteous  tears  had  left  the  flush- 
ing in  her  galled  eyes." 

8  Carnal  for  sanguinary  or  blood-thirsty  ;  as  in  Hamlet,  v.  2 :  "  So  shall 
you  hear  of  carnal,  bloody,  and  unnatural  acts." 

9  Pew-fellow  is  companion  or  participator.  The  Poet  has  coach-fellow  in 
the  same  sense,  apparently. 

10  Boot  is  an  old  word  for  any  thing  thrown  into  a  bargain. 

11  Adulterate  is  stained  with  adultery.    Alluding  to  Jane  Shore. 

12  Their  refers  to  Hell,  which  is  used  as  a  collective  noun.  —  Intelligencer 
sometimes  has  the  sense  of  intelligencing  or  giving  i?ttelUgence.  Here  it 
seems  to  mean  spokesman,  mouth-piece,  or  organ  of  communication.  —  Of 
course  factor  is  agent. 


l60  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV, 

Ensues  his  piteous  and  unpitied  end : 
Earth  gapes,  Hell  burns,  fiends  roar,  saints  pray, 
To  have  him  suddenly  convey'd  from  hence.  — 
Cancel  his  bond  of  life,13  dear  God,  I  pray, 
That  I  may  live  to  say,  The  dog  is  dead ! 

Q.  Eliz.    O,  thou  didst  prophesy  the  time  would  come 
That  I  should  wish  for  thee  to  help  me  curse 
That  bottled  spider,  that  foul  bunch-back'd  toad  ! 

Q.  Afar.    I  call'd  thee  then  vain  flourish  of  my  fortune  ; 
I  call'd  thee  then  poor  shadow,  painted  queen ; 
The  presentation  of  but  what  I  was  ; 
The  flattering  index  of  a  direful  pageant ; 14 
One  heaved  a-high,  to  be  hurl'd  down  below ; 
A  mother  only  mock'd  with  two  sweet  babes  ; 
A  dream  of  what  thou  wert ;  a  breath,  a  bubble ; 
A  sign  of  dignity,  a  garish  flag 
To  be  the  aim  of  every  dangerous  shot ; 15 
A  queen  in  jest,  only  to  fill  the  scene. 
Where  is  thy  husband  now  ?  where  be  thy  brothers  ? 
Where  be  thy  two  sons?  wherein  dost  thou  joy? 
Who  sues  to  thee,  and  cries,  God  save  the  Queen? 
Where  be  the  bending  peers  that  flatter'd  thee  ? 
Where  be  the  thronging  troops  that  follow'd  thee  ? 
Decline  all  this 16  and  see  what  now  thou  art : 
For  happy  wife,  a  most  distressed  widow ; 

13  The  image  is  of  a  deed  or  indenture  securing  a  life-tenure  of  property. 
So  in  Macbeth,  iii.  2  :  "  Cancel  and  tear  to  pieces  that  great  bond  which  keeps 
me  paled." 

14  The  index  of  a  pageant  was  probably  a  painted  cloth  hung  up  before 
a  booth  where  a  pageant  was  to  be  exhibited.     See  page  101,  note  17. 

15  Alluding  to  the  dangerous  situation  of  those  persons  to  whose  care  the 
standards  of  armies  were  intrusted. 

16  That  is,  run  it  through  all  the  moods  and  tenses. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  l6l 

For  joyful  mother,  one  that  wails  the  name  ; 

For  queen,  a  very  caitiff  crown'd  with  care  ; 

For  one  being  sued-to,  one  that  humbly  sues ; 

For  one  commanding  all,  obey'd  of  none ; 

For  one  that  scorn'd  at  me,  now  scorn'd  of  me  : 

Thus  hath  the  course  of  justice  wheel'd  about, 

And  left  thee  but  a  very  prey  to  time ; 

Having  no  more  but  thought  of  what  thou  wert, 

To  torture  thee  the  more,  being  what  thou  art. 

Thou  didst  usurp  my  place,  and  dost  thou  not 

Usurp  the  just  proportion  of  my  sorrow  ? 

Now  thy  proud  neck  bears  half  my  burden'd  yoke  ; 

From  which  even  here  I  slip  my  wearied  head, 

And  leave  the  burden  of  it  all  on  thee. 

Farewell,  York's  wife  ;  and  queen  of  sad  mischance  : 

These  English  woes  will  make  me  smile  in  France. 

Q.  Eliz.    O  thou  well-skill'd  in  curses,  stay  awhile, 
And  teach  me  how  to  curse  mine  enemies  ! 

Q.  Mar.    Forbear  to  sleep  the  night,  and  fast  the  day ; 
Compare  dead  happiness  with  living  woe  ; 
Think  that  thy  babes  were  fairer  than  they  were, 
And  he  that  slew  them  fouler  than  he  is  : 
Bettering17  thy  loss  makes  the  bad-causer  worse  : 
Revolving  this  will  teach  thee  how  to  curse. 

Q.  Eliz.    My  words    are    dull ;    O,   quicken   them   with 
thine  ! 

Q.  Mar.   Thy  woes  will  make  them  sharp,  and  pierce  like 
mine.  \_Exit. 

Duch.   Why  should  calamity  be  full  of  words  ? 

17  Bettering  is  here  used  in  the  sense  of  exaggerating  or  mag?iifying, 
"  The  greater  you  conceive  your  loss  to  be,  the  worse  the  author  of  it  will 
seem." 


1 62  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

Q.  Eliz.   Windy  attorneys 18  to  their  client  woes, 
Airy  succeeders  of  intestate  joys,19 
Poor  breathing  orators  of  miseries  ! 
Let  them  have  scope  :  though  what  they  do  impart 
Help  nothing  else,  yet  do  they  ease  the  heart.20 

Duch.    If  so,  then  be  not  tongue-tied  :  go  with  me, 

And  in  the  breath  of  bitter  words  let's  smother 

My  damned  son,  that  thy  two  sweet  sons  smother'd. 

\_Drum  within, 
I  hear  his  drum  :  be  copious  in  exclaims. 

Enter  King  Richard  and  his  Train,  marching. 

K.  Rich.   Who  intercepts  me  in  my  expedition? 

Duch.    O,  she  that  might  have  intercepted  thee, 
By  strangling  thee  in  her  accursed  womb, 
From  all  the  slaughters,  wretch,  that  thou  hast  done  ! 

Q.  Eliz.    Hidest  thou  that  forehead  with  a  golden  crown, 
Where  should  be  branded,  if  that  right  were  right, 
The  slaughter  of  the  Prince  that  owed  that  crown, 
And  the  dire  death  of  my  poor  sons  and  brothers  ? 
Tell  me,  thou  villain-slave,  where  are  my  children  ? 

Duch.   Thou  toad,  thou  toad,  where  is  thy  brother  Clar- 
ence? 

18  Words  are  called  "  windy  attorneys,"  because  they  are  made  up  of 
wind.     In  his  Venus  and  Adonis  the  Poet  figures  the  tongue  as  the  heart's 

attorney : 

But  when  the  heart's  attorney  once  is  mute, 
The  client  breaks,  as  desperate  of  his  suit. 

19  The  joys,  being  all  consumed  and  passed  away,  have  died  intestate ; 
that  is,  have  made  no  will,  having  nothing  to  bequeath ;  and  mere  verbal 
complaints  are  their  successors,  but  inherit  nothing  but  misery. 

20  This  seems  to  have  been  rather  a  favourite  idea  with  the  Poet.     So  in 

Macbeth,  iv.  3 : 

Give  sorrow  words ;   the  grief  that  does  not  speak 
Whispers  the  o'erfraught  heart,  and  bids  it  break. 


SCENE  iv.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 63 

And  little  Ned  Plantagenet,  his  son  ? 

Q.  Eliz.   Where  is  the  gentle  Rivers,  Vaughan,  Grey  ? 

Duck.    Where  is  kind  Hastings? 

K.  Rich.    A  flourish,  trumpets  !  strike  alarum,  drums  ! 

Let  not  the  Heavens  hear  these  tell-tale  women 

Rail  on  the  Lord's  anointed  :  strike,  I  say  !  — 

{Flourish.    Alarum. 
Either  be  patient,  and  entreat  me  fair, 

Or  with  the  clamorous  report  of  war 

Thus  will  I  drown  your  exclamations. 

Duch.   Art  thou  my  son? 

K.  Rich.   Ay,  I  thank  God,  my  father,  and  yourself. 

Duch.   Then  patiently  hear  my  impatience. 

K.  Rich.    Madam,  I  have  a  touch  of  your  condition,21 
That  cannot  brook  the  accent  of  reproof. 

Duch.   O,  let  me  speak  ! 

K.  Rich.  Do,  then ;  but  I'll  not  hear. 

Duch.    I  will  be  mild  and  gentle  in  my  words. 

K.  Rich.   And  brief,  good  mother ;  for  I  am  in  haste. 

Duch.    Art  thou  so  hasty?     I  have  stay'd  for  thee, 
God  knows,  in  torment  and  in  agony. 

K.  Rich.   And  came  I  not  at  last  to  comfort  you  ? 

Duch.    No,  by  the  holy  Rood,  thou  know'st  it  well, 
Thou  earnest  on  Earth  to  make  the  Earth  my  hell. 
A  grievous  burden  was  thy  birth  to  me ; 
Tetchy  and  wayward  was  thy  infancy ; 
Thy  school-days  frightful,  desperate,  wild,  and  furious ; 
Thy  prime  of  manhood  daring,  bold,  and  venturous  ; 
Thy  age  confirm'd,  proud,  subtle,  bloody,  treacherous, 
More  mild,  but  yet  more  harmful-kind  in  hatred  : 

21  A  smack  or  spice  of  your  disposition  or  temper.     For  this  use  of  condi- 
tion see  As  You  Like  It,  page  46,  note  25. 


164  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

What  comfortable  hour  canst  thou  name, 
That  ever  graced  me  in  thy  company  ? 

K.  Rich.    Faith,  none,  but  Humphrey  Hower,22  that  call'd 
your  Grace 
To  breakfast  once  forth  of  my  company. 
If  I  be  so  disgracious  in  your  eye, 
Let  me  march  on,  and  not  offend  you,  madam.  — 
Strike  up  the  drum. 

Duck.  I  pr'ythee,  hear  me  speak. 

K.  Rich.   You  speak  too  bitterly. 

Duch.  Hear  me  a  word ; 

For  I  shall  never  speak  to  thee  again. 

K.  Rich.    So. 

Duch.    Either  thou'lt  die,  by  God's  just  ordinance, 
Ere  from  this  war  thou  turn  a  conqueror ; 
Or  I  with  grief  and  extreme  age  shall  perish, 
And  never  look  upon  thy  face  again. 


22  So  printed  in  the  old  copies.  No  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  pas- 
sage has  yet  been  discovered.  A  part  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  was  called 
Duke  Humphrey's  Walk,  because  Humphrey,  sometime  Duke  of  Glouces- 
ter, was  supposed  to  be  buried  there.  As  the  old  Cathedral  was  a  place  of 
great  resort,  those  who  were  hard  up  for  a  dinner  used  to  saunter  there, 
perhaps  in  the  hope  of  being  asked  to  dinner  by  some  of  their  acquaintance. 
Hence  grew  the  phrase  of  "  dining  with  Duke  Humphrey,"  used  of  those 
who  thus  "  waited  upon  Providence  "  for  a  chance  to  eat.  And  Steevens 
thinks  that  "  Shakespeare  might  by  this  strange  phrase,  Humphrey  Hour, 
have  designed  to  mark  the  hour  at  which  the  good  Duchess  was  as  hungry 
as  the  followers  of  Duke  Humphrey."  Singer  thinks  "  it  is  possible  that  by 
Humphrey  Hpwer  Richard  alludes  to  the  hour  of  his  birth,  the  hour  after 
which  his  mother  ate  out  of  his  company."  And  he  quotes  the  old  vulgar 
saying,  that  a  teeming  woman  feeds  two.  According  to  this,  Humphrey 
Hower  might  be  meant  as  the  name  of  the  physician  who  attended  the 
Duchess  when  her  Richard  was  born.  Staunton  "  apprehends  that  Humph- 
rey Hour  was  nothing  more  than  a  cant  phrase  for  eating-hour."  None  of 
these  explanations  can  hold  my  assent,  nor  can  I  think  of  any  better. 


SCENE  IV.  KING   RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 65 

Therefore  take  with  thee  my  most  heavy  curse ; 

Which,  in  the  day  of  battle,  tire  thee  more 

Than  all  the  c6mplete  armour  that  thou  wear'st ! 

My  prayers  on  the  adverse  party  fight ; 

And  there  the  little  souls  of  Edward's  children 

Whisper  the  spirits  of  thine  enemies, 

And  promise  them  success  and  victory. 

Bloody  thou  art,  bloody  will  be  thy  end ; 

Shame  serves  thy  life,  and  doth  thy  death  attend.         [Ex 

Q.  Eliz.   Though  far  more  cause,  yet  much  less  spirit 
curse 
Abides  in  me  ;  I  say  amen  to  her.  [  Go, 

K.  Rich.    Stay,    madam ;     I    must   speak    a   word  uj  4 
you. 

Q.  Eliz.    I  have  no  more  sons  of  the  royal  blood 
For  thee  to  murder  :  for  my  daughters,  Richard, 
They  shall  be  praying  nuns,  not  weeping  queens ; 
And  therefore  level  not  to  hit  their  lives. 

K.  Rich.   You  have  a  daughter  call'd  Elizabeth, 
Virtuous  and  fair,  royal  and  gracious. 

Q.  Eliz.    And  must  she  die  for  this  ?     O,  let  her  live, 
And  I'll  corrupt  her  manners,  stain  her  beauty  ; 
Slander  myself  as  false  to  Edward's  bed ; 
Throw  over  her  the  vale  of  infamy  : 
So  she  may  live  unscarr'd  of  bleeding  slaughter, 
I  will  confess  she  was  not  Edward's  daughter. 

K.  Rich.   Wrong  not  her  birth,  she  is  of  royal  blood. 

Q.  Eliz.   To  save  her  life,  I'll  say  she  is  not  so. 

K.  Rich.    Her  life  is  safest  only  in  her  birth. 

Q.  Eliz.   And  only  in  that  safety  died  her  brothers. 

K.  Rich.    Lo,  at  their  births  good  stars  were  opposite. 

Q.  Eliz.    No,  to  their  lives  bad  friends  were  contrary. 


166  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  act  iv. 

K.  Rich.   All  unavoided  23  is  the  doom  of  destiny. 

Q.  Eliz.    True,  when  avoided  grace  makes  destiny : 
My  babes  were  destined  to  a  fairer  death, 
If  grace  had  bless'd  thee  with  a  fairer  life. 

K.  Rich.   You  speak  as  if  that  I  had  slain  my  cousins. 

Q.  Eliz.    Cousins,  indeed  ;  and  by  their  uncle  cozen'd 
Of  comfort,  kingdom,  kindred,  freedom,  life. 
Whose  hand  soever  lanced  their  tender  hearts, 
Thy  head,  all  indirectly,24  gave  direction  : 
No  doubt  the  murderous  knife  was  dull  and  blunt 
Till  it  was  whetted  on  thy  stone-hard  heart, 
To  revel  in  the  entrails  of  my  lambs. 
But  that  still25  use  of  grief  makes  wild  grief  tame, 
My  tongue  should  to  thy  ears  not  name  my  boys 
Till  that  my  nails  were  anchor'd  in  thine  eyes ; 
And  I,  in  such  a  desperate  bay  of  death, 
Like  a  poor  bark,  of  sails  and  tackling  reft, 
Rush  all  to  pieces  on  thy  rocky  bosom. 

K.  Rich.    Madam,  so  thrive  I  in  my  enterprise 
And  dangerous  success  of  bloody  wars,26 
As  I  intend  more  good  to  you  and  yours 
Than  ever  you  and  yours  by  me  were  harm'd  ! 

Q.  Eliz.   What  good  is  cover'd  with  the  face  of  heaven, 


23  Unavoided  for  unavoidable.  So  the  endings  -ed  and  -able  were  often 
used  indiscriminately.     See  Richard  II.,  page  79,  note  35. 

24  Indirectly  here  means  wrongfully  or  wickedly  ;  probably  used  for  a 
sort  of  jingle  with  direction.  It  may  be  worth  noting,  however,  that  the 
radical  sense  of  right,  as  also  of  direct,  is  straight ;  while  that  of  wrong,  as 
also  of  indirect,  is  crooked. 

25  The  use  of  still  for  continually  is  very  frequent :  here  it  is  used  as  an 
adjective  with  the  same  sense,  contmual. 

2G  That  is,  the  bloody  wars  that  are  to  follow  ;  success  being  used  in  the 
Latin  sense  of  succession  or  sequel.     See  Much  Ado,  page  98,  note  14. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  167 

To  be  discovered,  that  can  do  me  good? 

K.  Rich.    Th'  advancement  of  your  children,  gentle  lady. 

Q.  Eliz.   Up  to  some  scaffold,  there  to  lose  their  heads  ? 

K.  Rich.    No,  to  the  dignity  and  height  of  honour, 
The  high  imperial  type  of  this  Earth's  glory.27 

Q.  Eliz.    Flatter  my  sorrows  with  report  of  it ; 
Tell  me  what  state,  what  dignity,  what  honour, 
Canst  thou  demise28  to  any  child  of  mine? 

K.  Rich.    Even  all  I  have  ;  ay,  and  myself  and  all, 
Will  I  withal  endow  a  child  of  thine ; 
So  in  the  Lethe  of  thy  angry  soul 
Thou  drown  the  sad  remembrance  of  those  wrongs 
Which  thou  supposest  I  have  done  to  thee. 

Q.  Eliz.    Be  brief,  lest  that  the  process  of  thy  kindness 
Last  longer  telling  than  thy  kindness'  date. 

K.  Rich.  Then  know,  that  from  my  soul  I  love  thy  daughter, 

Q.  Eliz.    My  daughter's  mother  thinks  it  with  her  soul. 

K.  Rich.    What  do  you  think  ? 

Q.  Eliz.    That  thou  dost  love  my  daughter  from  thy  soul : 
So,  from  thy  soul's  love,  didst  thou  love  her  brothers ; 
And,  from  my  heart's  love,29  I  do  thank  thee  for  it. 

K.  Rich.    Be  not  so  hasty  to  confound  my  meaning : 
I  mean,  that  with  my  soul  I  love  thy  daughter, 
And  do  intend  to  make  her  Queen  of  England. 

Q.  Eliz.   Well,  then,  who  dost  thou  mean  shall  be  her  king  ? 

K.  Rich.    Even  he  that  makes  her  queen  :  who  else  should 
be? 

27  That  is,  the  crown,  the  emblem  of  royalty. 

28  To  demise  is  to  grant,  from  demittere,  Latin. 

29  The  Queen  is  quibbling  between  the  different  senses  of  from  ;  one  of 
which  is  oitt  of,  as  when  we  say,  "  Speak  the  truth  from  the  heart " ;  the 
other,  that  of  separation  or  distance,  as  when  Hamlet  says  "  any  thing  so 
overdone  is  from  the  purpose  of  playing." 


1 68  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

Q.  Eliz.   What,  thou? 

K.  Rich.  Even  I :  what  think  you  of  it,  madam  ? 

Q.  Eliz.    How  canst  thou  woo  her? 

K.  Rich.  That  would  I  learn  of  you, 

As  one  being  best  acquainted  with  her  humour. 

Q.  Eliz.    And  wilt  thou  learn  of  me  ? 

K.  Rich.  Madam,  with  all  my  heart. 

Q.  Eliz.    Send  to  her,  by  the  man  that  slew  her  brothers, 
A  pair  of  bleeding  hearts  ;  thereon  engraved 
Edward  and  York  ;  then  haply  will  she  weep  : 
Therefore  present  to  her — as  sometime  Margaret 
Did  to  thy  father,  steep'd  in  Rutland's  blood — 
A  handkerchief;  which,  say  to  her,  did  drain 
The  purple  sap  from  her  sweet  brothers'  bodies, 
And  bid  her  dry  her  weeping  eyes  withal. 
If  this  inducement  move  her  not  to  love, 
Send  her  a  letter  of  thy  noble  deeds  ; 
Tell  her  thou  madest  away  her  uncle  Clarence, 
Her  uncle  Rivers  ;  ay,  and,  for  her  sake, 
Madest  quick  conveyance  with  her  good  aunt  Anne. 

K.  Rich.   You  mock  me,  madam  ;  this  is  not  the  way 
To  win  your  daughter. 

.    Q.  Eliz.  There's  no  other  way ; 

Unless  thou  couldst  put  on  some  other  shape, 
And  not  be  Richard  that  hath  done  all  this. 

K.  Rich.    Say  that  I  did  all  this  for  love  of  her? 

Q.  Eliz.  Nay,  then  indeed  she  cannot  choose  but  love  thee, 
Having  bought  love  with  such  a  bloody  spoil. 

K.  Rich.    Look,  what  is  done  cannot  be  now  amended  : 
Men  shall30  deal  unadvisedly  sometimes, 

30  Shall  for  will;  the  two  being  often  used  indiscriminately. —  Unad- 
visedly in  the  old  sense  of  inconsiderately,  rashly,  or  imprttdently.  See 
page  77,  note  25. 


scene  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 69 

Which  after-hours  give  leisure  to  repent. 

If  I  did  take  the  kingdom  from  your  sons, 

To  make  amends,  I'll  give  it  to  your  daughter. 

A  grandam's  name  is  little  less  in  love 

Than  is  the  doting  title  of  a  mother ; 

They  are  as  children  but  one  step  below, 

Even  of  your  mettle,  of  your  very  blood ; 

Of  all  one  pain, — save  for  a  night  of  groans 

Endured  of  her,  for  whom  you  bid31  like  sorrow. 

Your  children  were  vexation  to  your  youth ; 

But  mine  shall  be  a  comfort  to  your  age. 

The  loss  you  have  is  but  a  son  being  king, 

And  by  that  loss  your  daughter  is  made  queen. 

I  cannot  make  you  what  amends  I  would, 

Therefore  accept  such  kindness  as  I  can. 

Dorset  your  son,  that  with  a  fearful  soul 

Leads  discontented  steps  in  foreign  soil, 

This  fair  alliance  quickly  shall  call  home 

To  high  promotions  and  great  dignity : 

The  King,  that  calls  your  beauteous  daughter  wife5 

Familiarly  shall  call  thy  Dorset  brother ; 

Again  shall  you  be  mother  to  a  king, 

And  all  the  ruins  of  distressful  times 

Repair' d  with  double  riches  of  content. 

What !  we  have  many  goodly  days  to  see  : 

The  liquid  drops  of  tears  that  you  have  shed 

Shall  come  again,  transform 'd  to  orient  pearl, 

Advantaging  their  loan  with  interest 

Of  ten-times-double  gain  of  happiness. 

31  "Endured  of  her"  is  the  same  as  endured  by  her;  of  being  formerly 
used  in  such  cases  to  denote  the  relation  of  agent.  —  Bid  is  an  old  preterite 
form  for  bided,  suffered,  or  endured. 


I  JO  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  J 

:hen,  my  mother,  to  thy  daughter  go ; 
Make  bold  her  bashful  years  with  your  experience ; 
Prepare  her  ears  to  hear  a  wooer's  tale  : 
Put  in  her  tender  heart  th'  aspiring  flame 

olden  sovereignty- ;  acquaint  the  Princess 
With  the  sweet  silent  hours  of  marriage  joys  : 
And,  when  this  arm  of  mine  hath  chast. 
The  petty  rebel,  dull-brain'd  Buckingham, 
Bound  with  triumphant  garlands  will  I  come, 
And  lead  thy  daughter  to  a  conqueror's  bed ; 

horn  I  will  retail32  my  conquest  won, 
And  she  shall  be  sole  victress,  Caesar's  Caesar. 

Q.  Eliz.    What  were  I  best  to  say  ?  her  father's  brother 
lid  be  her  lord  ?  or  shall  I  say,  her  uncle  ? 
Or.  he  that  slew  her  brothers  and  her  uncle-  ? 
Under  what  title  shall  I  woo  for  thee, 

:  God.  the  law,  my  honour,  and  her  love, 
Can  make  seem  pleasing  to  her  tender  yeaa 

K.  Rich.    Infer  fair  England's  peace  by  this  alliance. 

Q.  Eliz.    Which  she  shall  purchase  with  still-lasting  war. 

K.  Rich.    Tell  her.  the  King,  that  may  command,  entreats. 

Q.  Eliz.    That  at  her  hands  which  the  King's  King  forbids. 

K.  Rich.    Say.  she  shall  be  a  high  and  mighty  queen. 

Q.  Eliz.    To  wail  the  title,  as  her  mother  doth. 

K.  Rich.    Say,  I  will  love  her  everlastingly. 

Q.  Eliz.    But  how  long  shall  that  tide33  ever  last? 

K.  Rich.    Sweetly  in  force  unto  her  fair  life's  end. 

Q.  Eliz.    But  how  long  fairly  shall  her  sweet  life  last  ? 

K.  Rich.    As  long  as  Heaven  and  Nature  lengthen  it. 

32  Retail,  again,  for  recount  or  tell  over.    See  page  no,  note  6. 

he  word  title  is  here  used  in  a  legal  or  forensic  sense,  for  interest  in 
an  estate.     So  savs  Heath. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  I J I 

Q.  Eliz.    As  long  as  Hell  and  Richard  like  of  it. 

K.  Rich.    Say,  I,  her  sovereign,  am  her  subject  now. 

Q.  Eliz.    But  she,  your  subject,  loathes  such  sovereignty. 

K.  Rich.    Be  eloquent 'in  my  behalf  to  her. 

Q.  Eliz.    An  honest  tale  speeds  best  being  plainly  told. 

K.  Rich.    Then,  plainly  to  her  tell  my  loving  tale. 

Q.  Eliz.    Plain  and  not  honest  is  too  harsh  a  style. 

K.  Rich.    Your  reasons  are  too  shallow  and  too  quick. 

Q.  Eliz.    O,  no,  my  reasons  are  too  deep  and  dead ; 34 
Too  deep  and  dead,  poor  infants,  in  their  graves. 

K.  Rich.    Harp  not  on  that  string,  madam  ;  that  is  past. 

Q.  Eliz.    Harp  on  it  still  shall  I  till  heart-strings  break. 

K.  Rich.    Now,    by   my    George,35   my   garter,    and    my 
crown,  — 

Q.  Eliz.    Profaned,  dishonour'd,  and  the  third  usurp'd. 

K.  Rich.    — I  swear  — 

Q.  Eliz.  .  By  nothing ;  for  this  is  no  oath  : 

Thy  George,  profaned,  hath  lost  his  holy  honour ; 
Thy  garter,  blemish'd,  pawn'd  his  knightly  virtue ; 
Thy  crown,  usurp'd,  disgraced  his  kingly  glory. 
If  something  thou  wouldst  swear  to  be  believed, 
Swear,  then, -by  something  that  thou  hast  not  wrong'd. 

K.  Rich.    Now,  by  the  world,  — 

Q.  Eliz.  'Tis  full  of  thy  foul  wrongs. 

K.  Rich.    My  father's  death, — 

Q.  Eliz.  Thy  life  hath  that  dishonour'd. 

K.  Rich.   Then,  by  myself, — 

34  The  Queen  implies  an  equivoque  on  quick,  which  is  used  by  Richard 
in  the  sense  of  prompt,  nimble,  or  rash;  and  she  plays  between  this  sense 
and  that  of  alive. 

35  This  was  a  figure  or  image  of  St.  George  on  horseback,  which  was 
worn  as  a  baJge  by  Knights  of  the  Garter. 


172  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

Q.  Eliz.  Thyself  is  self- misused. 

K.Rich.    Why,  then  by  God,— 

Q.  Eliz.  God's  wrong  is  most  of  all. 

If  thou  hadst  fear'd  to  break  an  oath  by  Him, 
The  unity  the  King  thy  brother  made 
Had  not  been  broken,  nor  my  brother  slain  : 
If  thou  hadst  fear'd  to  break  an  oath  by  Him, 
Th'  imperial  metal,  circling  now  thy  head, 
Had  graced  the  tender  temples  of  my  child ; 
And  both  the  Princes  had  been  breathing  here, 
Which  now,  two  tender  bedfellows  for  dust, 
Thy  broken  faith  hath  made  a  prey  for  worms. 
What  canst  thou  swear  by  now  ? 

K.  Rich.  The  time  to  come. 

Q.  Eliz.    That  thou  hast  wronged  in  the  time  o'erpast ; 
For  I  myself  have  many  tears  to  wash 
Hereafter  time,  for  time  past  wrong'd  by  thee. 
The  children  live,  whose  parents  thou  hast  slaughter'd, 
Ungovern'd  youth,  to  wail  it  in  their  age  • 
The  parents  live,  whose  children  thou  hast  butcher'd, 
Old  wither' d  plants,  to  wail  it  with  their  age. 
Swear  not  by  time  to  come ;  for  that  thou  hast 
Misused  ere  used,  by  time  misused  o'erpast. 

K.  Rich.    As  I  intend  to  prosper  and  repent, 
So  thrive  I  in  my  dangerous  affairs 
Of  hostile  arms  !  myself  myself  confound  ! 
Heaven  and  fortune  bar  me  happy  hours  ! 
Day,  yield  me  not  thy  light ;  nor,  night,  thy  rest ! 
Be  opposite  all  planets  of  good  luck 
To  my  proceeding  !  —  if,  with  pure  heart's  love, 
Immaculate  devotion,  holy  thoughts, 
I  tender  not  thy  beauteous  princely  daughter  ! 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1/3 

In  her  consists  my  happiness  and  thine ; 

Without  her,  follows  to  myself  and  thee, 

Herself,  the  land,  and  many  a  Christian  soul, 

Death,  desolation,  ruin,  and  decay : 

It  cannot  be  avoided  but  by  this ; 

It  will  not  be  avoided  but  by  this. 

Therefore,  dear  mother,  —  I  must  call  you  so,  — 

Be  the  attorney  of  my  love  to  her  : 

Plead  what  I  will  be,  not  what  I  have  been  j 

Not  my  deserts,  but  what  I  will  deserve  : 

Urge  the  necessity  and  state  of  times, 

And  be  not  peevish-fond 36  in  great  designs. 

Q.  Eliz.    Shall  I  be  tempted  of  the  Devil  thus  ? 

K.  Rich.   Ay,  if  the  Devil  tempt  thee  to  do  good. 

Q.  Eliz.    Shall  I  forget  myself  to  be  myself? 

K.  Rich.    Ay,  if  yourself  s  remembrance  wrong  yourself. 

Q.  Eliz.    Shall  I  go  win  my  daughter  to  thy  will  ? 

K.  Rich.   And  be  a  happy  mother  by  the  deed. 

Q.  Eliz.    I  go. — Write  to  me  very  shortly, 
And  you  shall  understand  from  me  her  mind.37 

K.  Rich.    Bear  her  my  true  love's  kiss  ;  and  so,  farewell. — 
\Kissing  her.     Exit  Queen  Elizabeth. 
Relenting  fool,  and  shallow-changing  woman  !  — 

Enter  Ratcliff  ;  Catesby  following. 

36  Both  fond  and  peevish  are  often  used  by  Shakespeare  for  foolish.  So 
in  scene  2  of  this  Act :  "  When  Richmond  was  a  little  peevish  boy."  The 
compound  seems  to  have  about  the  same  meaning  as  childish-foolish,  which 
occurs  in  i.  3,  of  this  play.     Ox  peevish  may  here  have  the  sense  of  perverse. 

37  This  representation  is  in  substance  historical ;  and  some  of  the  old 
chroniclers  are  rather  hard  on  Elizabeth  for  thus  yielding  to  Richard's  per- 
suasions. But  there  is  good  reason  to  think  that  she  outwitted  him,  and 
that  her  consent  was  but  feigned  in  order  to  gain  time,  and  to  save  her 
daughter  from  the  fate  that  had  overtaken  her  sons. 


J 

174  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

How  now  !  what  news  ? 

Rat.    My  gracious  sovereign,  on  the  western  coast 
Rideth  a  puissant  navy ;  to  the  shore 
Throng  many  doubtful  hollow-hearted  friends, 
Unarm'd  and  unresolved  to  beat  them  back  : 
'Tis  thought  that  Richmond  is  their  admiral ; 
And  there  they  hull,38  expecting  but  the  aid 
Of  Buckingham  to  welcome  them  ashore. 

K.  Rich.    Some  light-foot  friend  post  to  the  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk :  — 
Ratcliff,  thyself,  —  or  Catesby;  where  is  he? 

Cate.    Here,  my  good  lord. 

K.  Rich.    Fly  to  the   duke. —  \To  Ratcliff.]    Post  thou 
to  Salisbury  : 
When  thou  comest  thither,  —  \_To  Catesby.]    Dull,  unmind- 
ful villain, 
Why  stay'st  thou  here,  and  go'st  not  to  the  duke  ? 

Cate.    First,  mighty  liege,  tell  me  your  Highness'  pleasure, 
What  from  your  Grace  I  shall  deliver  to  him. 

K.  Rich.    O,  true,  good  Catesby  :   bid  him  levy  straight 
The  greatest  strength  and  power  he  can  make, 
And  meet  me  suddenly  at  Salisbury. 

Cate.    I  go.  [Exit. 

Rat.    What,  may  it  please  you,  shall  I  do  at  Salisbury  ? 

K.  Rich.   Why,  what  wouldst  thou  do  there  before  I  go  ? 

Rat.   Your  Highness  told  me  I  should  post  before. 

Enter  Stanley. 


38  A  ship  is  said  to  hull  when  she  hauls  in  her  sails,  and  lays-to,  without 
coming  to  anchor,  and  so  floats  hither  and  thither  as  the  waves  carry  her.  See 
Twelfth  Night,  page  50,  note  18.  —  Expecting,  here,  is  waiting  for.  Re- 
peatedly so. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 75 

K.  Rich.    My  mind  is  changed.  —  Stanley,  what  news  with 
you? 

Stan.    None  good,  my  liege,  to  please  you  with  the  hearing  • 
Nor  none  so  bad,  but  well  may  be  reported. 

K.  Rich.    Heyday,  a  riddle  !  neither  good  nor  bad  ! 
What  need'st  thou  run  so  many  miles  about, 
When  thou  mayst  tell  thy  tale  the  nearest  way  ? 
Once  more,  what  news  ? 

Stan.  Richmond  is  on  the  seas. 

K.  Rich.   There  let  him  sink,  and  be  the  seas  on  him, 
White -liver 'd  runagate  !  39  what  doth  he  there  ? 

Stan.    I  know  not,  mighty  sovereign,  but  by  guess. 

K.  Rich.    Well,  as  you  guess? 

Stan.    Stirr'd  up  by  Dorset,  Buckingham,  and  Ely, 
He  makes  for  England,  here,  to  claim  the  crown. 

K.  Rich.    Is  the  chair  empty  ?  is  the  sword  unsway'd  ? 
.  Is  the  King  dead?  the  empire  unpossess'd? 

What  heir  of  York  is  there  alive  but  we  ? 

* 

And  who  is  England's  King  but  great  York's  heir  ? 
Then,  tell  me,  what  makes  he  upon  the  seas  ? 

Stan.   Unless  for  that,  my  liege,  I  cannot  guess. 

K.  Rich.    Unless  for  that  40  he  comes  to  be  your  liege, 
You  cannot  guess  wherefore  the  Welshman  comes. 
Thou  wilt  revolt,  and  fly  to  him,  I  fear. 

Stan.    No,  mighty  liege  ;  therefore  mistrust  me  not. 

K.  Rich.   Where  is  thy  power,  then,  to  beat  him  back  ? 

39  Runagate  is  runaway  or  vagabond.  White-liver  d,  lily-liver  d,  and 
milk-livered  are  terms  denoting  extreme  cowardice.  In  v.  3,  Richard  calls 
Richmond  "  a  milksop."  Richmond  had  in  fact  escaped  the  fate  of  the 
Lancastrian  leaders  by  fleeing  into  France. 

40  The  words  for  that  are  here  equivalent  to  because  ;  a  common  usage 
with  the  old  writers.  Richard  chooses  to  take  the  phrase  in  another  sense 
than  Stanley  had  meant. 


I76  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

Where  be  thy  tenants  and  thy  followers  ? 
Are  they  not  now  upon  the  western  shore, 
Safe-c6nducting  the  rebels  from  their  ships  ? 

Stan.    No,  my  good  lord,  my  friends  are  in  the  North. 

K.  Rich.    Cold  friends  to  me  :  what  do  they  in  the  North, 
When  they  should  serve  their  sovereign  in  the  West  ? 

Stan.   They  have  not  been  commanded,  mighty  King : 
Pleaseth  your  Majesty  to  give  me  leave, 
I'll  muster  up  my  friends,  and  meet  your  Grace 
Where  and  what  time  your  Majesty  shall  please. 

K.  Rich.   Ay,  ay,  thou  wouldst  be  gone  to  join  with  Rich- 
mond : 
I  will  not  trust  you,  sir. 

Stan.  Most  mighty  sovereign, 

You  have  no  cause  to  hold  my  friendship  doubtful : 
I  never  was  nor  never  will  be  false. 

K.  Rich.    Go,  then,  and  muster  men.     But  leave  behind 
Your  son,  George  Stanley  :  Jook  your  faith  be  firm, 
Or  else  his  head's  assurance  is  but  frail. 

Stan.    So  deal  with  him  as  I  prove  true  to  you.         [Exit. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.    My  gracious  sovereign,  now  in  Devonshire, 
As  I  by  friends  am  well  advertised,41 
Sir  Edward  Courtney,  and  the  haughty  prelate 
Bishop  of  Exeter,  his  elder  brother, 
With  many  more  confederates,  are  in  arms. 

Enter  a  second  Messenger. 

2  Mess.    In  Kent,  my  liege,  the  Guildfords  are  in  arms ; 

41  Advertised  for  informed,  notified,  or  instructed,  occurs  repeatedly. 


SCENE  iv.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 


177 


And  every  hour  more  competitors42 

Flock  to  the  rebels,  and  their  power  grows  strong. 

Enter  a  third  Messenger. 

3  Mess.    My  lord,  the  army  of  great  Buckingham  — 

K.  Rich.    Out  on  ye,  owls  !  nothing  but  songs  of  death?43 

[Strikes  him. 
There,  take  thou  that,  till  thou  bring  better  news. 

3  Mess.   The  news  I  have  to  tell  your  Majesty 
Is,  that  by  sudden  floods  and  fall  of  waters, 
Buckingham's  army  is  dispersed  and  scatter'd ; 
And  he  himself  wander'd  away  alone, 
No  man  knows  whither. 

K.  Rich.  O,  I  cry  thee  mercy : 

There  is  my  purse  to  cure  that  blow  of  thine. 
Hath  any  well-advised  friend  proclaim'd 
Reward  to  him  that  brings  the  traitor  in  ? 

3  Mess.    Such  proclamation  hath  been  made,  my  lord. 

Enter  a  fourth  Messenger. 

4  Mess.   Sir  Thomas  Lovel  and  Lord  Marquess  Dorset, 
'Tis  said,  my  liege,  in  Yorkshire  are  in  arms. 

But  this  good  comfort  bring  I  to  your  Highness, 
The  Bretagne  navy  is  dispersed  by  tempest : 
Richmond,  in  Dorsetshire,  sent  out  a  boat 
Unto  the  shore,  to  ask  those  on  the  banks 
If  they  were  his  assistants,  yea  or  no  ; 
Who  answer'd  him,  they  came  from  Buckingham 
Upon  his  party  : 44  he,  mistrusting  them, 

42  Competitors  for  confederates  or  partners.     See  Twelfth  Night,  page 
114,  note  3. 

43  The  owl's  note  or  hoot  was  considered  ominous  or  ill-boding. 

44  "  Upon  his  party  "  is  to  take  part  with  him ;  to  fight  on  his  side. 


1/8  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  IV. 

Hoised  sail,  and  made  his  course  again  for  Bretagne. 

K.  Rich.    March  on,  march  on,  since  we  are  up  in  arms ; 
If  not  to  fight  with  foreign  enemies, 
Yet  to  beat  down  these  rebels  here  at  home. 

Re-enter  Catesby. 

Cate.    My  liege,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  is  taken,  — 
That  is  the  best  news  :  that  the  Earl  of  Richmond 
Is  with  a  mighty  power  landed  at  Milford, 
Is  colder  tidings,  yet  they  must  be  told.45 

K.  Rich.    Away  towards  Salisbury  !  while  we  reason  here,46 
A  royal  battle  might  be  won  and  lost :  — 
Some  one  take  order47  Buckingham  be  brought 
To  Salisbury ;  the  rest  march  on  with  me.  \_Flourish.  Exeunt. 


Scene  V.  —  A  Room  in  Lord  Stanley's  House. 

Enter  Stanley  and  Sir  Christopher  Urswick. 

Stan.    Sir  Christopher,  tell  Richmond  this  from  me  : 
That,  in  the  sty  of  the  most  bloody  boar, 
My  son  George  Stanley  is  frank'd  up  in  hold  : 
If  I  revolt,  off  goes  young  George's  head ; 
The  fear  of  that  holds  off  my  present  aid. 
But,  tell  me,  where  is  princely  Richmond  now  ? 

45  The  Earl  of  Richmond  embarked  with  about  two  thousand  men  at 
Harfleur,  in  Normandy,  August  i,  1485,  and  landed  at  Milford  Haven  on 
the  7th.  He  directed  his  course  to  Wales,  hoping  the  Welsh  would  receive 
him  cordially  as  their  countryman,  he  having  been  born  at  Pembroke,  and 
his  grandfather  being  Owen  Tudor,  who  married  Catharine  of  France,  the 
widow  of  Henry  the  Fifth  and  mother  of  Henry  the  Sixth. 

46  That  is,  "  while  we  are  talkhtg  here."     See  page  103,  note  4. 

47  To  take  order  is,  in  old  English,  to  adopt  measures,  or  give  directions. 


SCENE  I.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 79 

Chris.   At  Pembroke,  or  at  Ha'rford-West,1  in  Wales. 

Stan.    What  men  of  name  resort  to  him  ? 

Chris.    Sir  Walter  Herbert,  a  renowned  soldier ; 
Sir  Gilbert  Talbot,  Sir  William  Stanley ; 
Oxford,  redoubted  Pembroke,  Sir  James  Blunt, 
And  Rice  ap  Thomas,  with  a  valiant  crew ; 
And  many  more  of  noble  fame  and  worth : 
And  towards  London  they  do  bend2  their  course 
If  by  the  way  they  be  not  fought  withal. 

Stan.    Return  unto  thy  lord  ;  commend  me  to  him  : 
Tell  him  the  Queen  hath  heartily  consented 
He  shall  espouse  Elizabeth  her  daughter. 
These  letters  will  resolve  3  him  of  my  mind.     [  Giving  letters. 
Farewell.  \_Exeunt. 


ACT  V. 

Scene  I.  —  Salisbury.     An  open  Place. 

Enter   the  Sheriff,   and   Guard,  with  Buckingham,   led  to 

Execution. 

Buck.   Will  not  King  Richard  let  me  speak  with  him  ? 

Sher.    No,  my  good  lord  ;  therefore  be  patient. 

Buck.    Hastings,  and  Edward's  children,  Rivers,  Grey, 
Holy  King  Henry,  and  thy  fair  son  Edward, 
Vaughan,  and  all  that  have  miscarried 
By  underhand  corrupted  foul  injustice,  — 

1  This  name  in  full  is  Naverford-W 'est ;  shortened  for  metre's  sake,  of 
course.     The  place  lies  nearly  north  of  Pembroke. 

2  To  bend  occurs  often  in  the  sense  of  to  direct. 

3  Resolve,  again,  for  inform  or  satisfy.     See  page  149,  note  3. 


ISO  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  v. 

If  that  your  moody  discontented  souls 
Do  through  the  clouds  behold  this  present  hour, 
Even  for  revenge  mock  my  destruction  !  — 
This  is  All-Souls'  day,  fellows,  is  it  not  ? 

Sher.    It  is,  my  lord. 

Buck.   Why,  then  All-Souls'  day l  is  my  body's  doomsday. 
This  is  the  day  that,  in  King  Edward's  time, 
I  wish'd  might  fall  on  me,  when  I  was  found 
False  to  his  children  or  his  wife's  allies ; 
This  is  the  day  wherein  I  wish'd  to  fall 
By  the  false  faith  of  him  I  trusted  most ; 
This,  this  All-Souls'  day  to  my  fearful  soul 
Is  the  determined  respite  of  my  wrongs  :  2 
That  high  All-seer  that  I  dallied  with 
Hath  turn'd  my  feigned  prayer  on  my  head, 
And  given  in  earnest  what  I  begg'd  in  jest. 
Thus  doth  He  force  the  swords  of  wicked  men 
To  turn  their  own  points  on  their  masters'  bosoms  : 
Thus  Margaret's  curse  falls  heavy  on  my  neck  : 
When  he,  quoth  she,  shall  split  thy  heart  with  sorrow, 
Remember  Margaret  was  a  prophetess .  — 
Come,  sirs,  convey  me  to  the  block  of  shame  ; 
Wrong  hath  but  wrong,  and  blame  the  due  of  blame. 

[Exeunt. 

1  Buckingham  was  executed  on  All-Saints'  day,  November  I,  1483. 

2  That  is,  "  the  close  or  termination  of  the  period  for  which  the  punish- 
ment of  my  crimes  was  deferred. 


SCENE  II.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  l8l 


Scene  II.  — Plain  near  Tamworth. 

Enter,  with  drum  and  colours,  Richmond,3  Oxford,4  Sir 
James  Blunt,  Sir  Walter  Herbert,  and  others,  with 
Forces,  marching. 

Richm.    Fellows  in  arms,  and  my  most  loving  friends, 
Bruised  underneath  the  yoke  of  tyranny, 
Thus  far  into  the  bowels  of  the  land 
Have  we  march'd  on  without  impediment ; 
And  here  receive  we  from  our  father  Stanley 
Lines  of  fair  comfort  and  .encouragement. 
The  wretched,  bloody,  and  usurping  boar, 
That  spoils  your  summer  fields  and  fruitful  vines, 
Swills  your  warm  blood  like  wash,  and  makes  his  trough 
In  your  embowell'd  bosoms,* — this  foul  swine 
Lies  now  even  in  the  centre  of  this  isle, 
Near  to  the  town  of  Leicester,  as  we  learn  : 
From  Tamworth  thither  is  but  one  day's  march. 
In  God's  name,  cheerly  on,  courageous  friends, 
To  reap  the  harvest  of  perpetual  peace 
By  this  one  bloody  trial  of  sharp  war. 

8  It  has  already  been  noted  that  on  his  father's  side  the  Earl  of  Richmond 
was  grandson  to  Owen  Tudor.  His  mother  was  Margaret,  daughter  and 
heir  to  John  Beaufort,  the  first  Duke  of  Somerset,  and  great-granddaughter 
to  John  of  Ghent  by  Catharine  Swynford ;  on  which  account,  after  the 
death  of  Henry  VI.  and  his  son,  Richmond  was  looked  to  by  both  friends 
and  foes  as  the  next  male  representative  of  the  Lancastrian  line.  The  Lan- 
castrians all  regarded  him  as  their  natural  chief;  and  many  of  the  Yorkists 
accepted  him  because  of  his  having  bound  himself  by  solemn  oath  to  marry 
the  Princess  Elizabeth,  whom  they  of  course  considered  the  rightful  heir  to 
the  crown  after  the  death  of  her  brothers. 

4  This  Earl  of  Oxford  was  John  de  Vere,  whose  character,  together  with 
that  of  his  son  Arthur,  is  so  finely  delineated  in  Scott's  Anne  of  Geierstcln, 


1 82  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  v. 

Oxf.    Every  man's  conscience  is  a  thousand  swords, 
To  fight  against  this  guilty  homicide. 

Herb.    I  doubt  not  but  his  friends  will  turn  to  us. 

Blunt.    He  hath  no  friends  but  what  are  friends  for  fear, 
Which  in  his  dearest  need  will  shrink  from  him. 

Richm.   All   for   our   vantage.     Then,   in    God's    name, 
march : 
True  hope  is  swift,  and  flies  with  swallow's  wings ; 
Kings  it  makes  gods,  and  meaner  creatures  kings.    \_Exeunt. 


Scene  III.  —  Bosworth  Field. 

Enter  King  Richard  and  Forces,  the  Duke   of  Norfolk, 
Earl  of  Surrey,  and  others. 

K.  Rich.    Here  pitch  our  tents,  even  here   in   Bosworth 
field.  — 
My  Lord  of  Surrey,  why  look  you  so  sad  ? 
\    Sur.    My  heart  is  ten  times  lighter  than  my  looks. 

K.  Rich.    My  Lord  of  Norfolk,  — 

Nor.  Here,  most  gracious  liege. 

K.  Rich.    Norfolk,  we  must  have  knocks ;    ha  !  must  we 
not? 

Nor.   We  must  both  give  and  take,  my  loving  lord. 

K.  Rich.   Up  with  my  tent !  here  will  I  lie  to-night ; 

\Soldiers  begin  to  set  up  his  tent. 
But  where  to-morrow  ?     Well,  all's  one  for  that.  — 
Who  hath  descried  the  number  of  the  traitors  ? 

Nor.    Six  or  seven  thousand  is  their  utmost  power. 

K.  Rich.   Why,  our  battalia  trebles  that  account : 1 

1  Richmond's  forces   are   said  to  have  been  only   five  thousand;    and 
Richard's  army  consisted  of  about  twelve  thousand.     But  Lord  Stanley  lay 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 83 

Besides,  the  King's  name  is  a  tower  of  strength, 

Which  they  upon  the  adverse  party  want.  — 

Up  with  the  tent  !  —  Come,  noble  gentlemen, 

Let  us  survey  the  vantage  of  the  ground ; 

Call  for  some  men  of  sound  direction  :  2 

Let's  lack  no  discipline,  make  no  delay ; 

For,  lords,  to-morrow  is  a  busy  day.  \_Exeunt. 

Enter,  on  the  other  side  of  the  field,  Richmond,  Sir  William 
Brandon,  Oxford,  and  others.  Some  of  the  Soldiers 
pitch  Richmond's  tent. 

Richm.   The  weary  Sun  hath  made  a  golden  set, 
And,  by  the  bright  track  of  his  fiery  car, 
Gives  token  of  a  goodly  day  to-morrow.  —  % 

Sir  William  Brandon,  you  shall  bear  my  standard.  — 
Give  me  some  ink  and  paper  in  my  tent : 
I'll  draw  the  form  and  model  of  our  battle, 
Limit3  each  leader  to  his  several  charge, 
And  part  in  just  proportion  our  small  power.  — 
My  Lord  of  Oxford,  —  you,  Sir  William  Brandon,  — 
And  you,  Sir  Walter  Herbert,  —  stay  with  me.  — 
The  Earl  of  Pembroke  keeps  his  regiment : 4  — 

at  a  small  distance  with  three  thousand  men,  and  Richard  may  be  sup- 
posed to  have  reckoned  on  them  as  his  friends,  though  the  event  proved 
otherwise. 

2  Men  of  tried  judgment  and  approved  military  skill. 

3  That  is,  direct  or  appoint  the  leaders  what  part  they  are  separately  to 
perform  in  the  forthcoming  conflict.  The  Poet  has  to  limit  repeatedly  so. 
See  page  121,  note  1. 

4  "Keeps  his  regiment "  is,  in  our  phrase,  remains  with  his  command ; 
j-egiment  being  used,  not  for  the  regimental  portion  of  an  army,  but  in  the 
old  sense  of  government.  So,  in  the  next  speech,  it  is  said  that  Lord  Stan- 
ley's "  regiment  lies  half  a  mile  at  least  south  from  the  mighty  power  of  the 
King.  —  Keep  is  repeatedly  used  by  the  Poet  for  dwell  or  stay. 


184  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  V. 

Good  Captain  Blunt,  bear  my  good-night  to  him, 
And  by  the  second  hour  in  the  morning 
Desire  the  earl  to  see  me  in  my  tent : 
Yet  one  thing  more,  good  captain,  do  for  me,  — 
Where  is  Lord  Stanley  quarter'd,5  do  you  know? 

Blunt.   Unless  I  have  mista'en  his  colours  much, — 
Which  well  I  am  assured  I  have  not  done,  — 
His  regiment  lies  half  a  mile  at  least 
South  from  the  mighty  power  of  the  King. 

Richm.    If  without  peril  it  be  possible, 
Sweet  Blunt,  make  some  good  means  to  speak  with  him, 
And  give  him  from  me  this  most  needful  note. 

Blunt.   Upon  my  life,  my  lord,  I'll  undertake  it ; 
And  so,  God  give  you  quiet  rest  to-night ! 

Richm.   Good  night,  good  Captain  Blunt.    [Exit  Blunt.] 
—  Come,  gentlemen, 
Let  us  consult  upon  to-morrow's  business  : 
In  to  my  tent ;  the  air  is  raw  and  cold. 

[They  withdraw  into  the  tent. 

Re-enter,  to  his  tent,  King  Richard,  Norfolk,  Ratcliff, 
Catesby,  and  others. 

K.  Rich.   What  is't  o'clock? 

Cate.  ■  It's  supper-time,  my  lord ; 

It's  nine  o'clock. 

K.  Rich.  I  will  not  sup  to-night.  — 

What,  is  my  beaver  easier  than  it  was?6 


5  To  quarter  is  still  in  use  as  a  military  term  for  to  lodge  or  encamp. 

6  The  beaver  was  a  part  of  the  helmet  fixed  on  a  sort  of  hinge  at  the  ear, 
so  as  to  be  drawn  down  over  the  face  or  pushed  up  over  the  forehead,  as  the 
wearer  chose  or  had  occasion.  It  is  probably  in  reference  to  this  motion 
that  easier  is  used  of  it. 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 85 

And  all  my  armour  laid  into  my  tent  ? 

Cate.    It  is,  my  liege  ;  and  all  things  are  in  readiness. 

K.  Rich.    Good  Norfolk,  hie  thee  to  thy  charge ; 
Use  careful  watch,  choose  trusty  sentinels.* 

Nor.    I  go,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.    Stir  with  the  lark  to-morrow,  gentle  Norfolk. 

Nor.    I  warrant  you,  my  lord.  \Exit. 

K.  Rich.   Catesby,  — 

Cate.   My  lord? 

K.  Rich.  Send  out  a  pursuivant-at-arms 

To  Stanley's  regiment ;  bid  him  bring  his  power 
Before  sunrising,  lest  his  son  George  fall 
Into  the  blind  cave  of  eternal  night.  —  \_Exit  Catesby. 

Fill  me  a  bowl  of  wine.  —  Give  me  a  watch.7  — 
Saddle  white  Surrey  for  the  field  to-morrow.  — 
Look  that  my  staves  8  be  sound,  and  not  too  heavy.  — 
Ratcliff,  — 

Rat.    My  lord? 

K.  Rich.    Saw'st  thou  the  melancholy  Lord  Northumber- 
land? 

Rat.   Thomas  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  and  himself, 
Much  about  cock-shut  time,9  from  troop  to  troop 

7  In  calling  for  a  watch  Richard  evidently  does  not  mean  a  sentinel;  for 
that  guard  should  be  kept  about  his  tent  was  a  matter  of  course.  The 
watch  called  for  is,  no  doubt,  a  watch-light,  which  was  a  night-candle  so 
marked  as  to  indicate  how  long  it  had  burned,  and  thus  serve  the  purpose 
of  a  modern  watch. 

8  That  is,  the  staves  or  poles  of  his  lances.  It  was  the  custom  to  carry 
more  than  one  into  the  field. 

9  A  cock-shut  was  a  large  net  stretched  across  a  glade,  and  so  suspended 
upon  poles  as  easily  to  be  drawn  together,  and  was  employed  to  catch 
woodcocks.  These  nets  were  chiefly  used  in  the  twilight  of  the  evening, 
when  woodcocks  "  take  wing  to  go  and  get  water,  flying  generally  low;  and 
when  they  find  any  thoroughfare,  through  a  wood  or  range  of  trees,  they 


1 86  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  V. 

Went  through  the  army,  cheering  up  the  soldiers. 

K.  Rich.    So,  I  am  satisfied.  —  Give  me  a  bowl  of  wine  : 
I  have  not  that  alacrity  of  spirit, 

Nor  cheer  of  mind,  that  I  was  wont  to  have.   [  Wine  brought. 
Well,  set  it  down.  —  Is  ink  and  paper  ready  ? 

Rat.    It  is,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.    Bid  my  guard  watch ;  leave  me.  —  Ratcliff, 
About  the  mid  of  night  come  to  my  tent 
And  help  to  arm  me.  —  Leave  me,  I  say. 

[King  Richard,  retires  into  his  tent,  and  sleeps. 
Exeunt  Ratcliff  and  others. 

Richmond's  tent  opens,  and  discovers  him  and  his  Officers,  &c. 

Enter  Stanley. 

Stan.    Fortune  and  victory  sit  on  thy  helm  ! 

Richm.    All  comfort  that  the  dark  night  can  afford 
Be  to  thy  person,  noble  father-in-law  ! 
Tell  me,  how  fares  our  loving  mother? 

Stan.    I,  by  attorney,  bless  thee  from  thy  mother, 
Who  prays  continually  for  Richmond's  good  : 
So  much  for  that. — The  silent  hours  steal  on, 
And  flaky  darkness  breaks  within  the  East. 
In  brief,  ■. — for  so  the  season  bids  us  be, — 
Prepare  thy  battle  early  in  the  morning, 
And  put  thy  fortune  to  th'  arbitrement 
Of  bloody  strokes  and  mortal-staring  war.10 

venture  through."  The  artificial  glades  made  for  them  to  pass  through 
were  called  cock-roads.  Hence  cock-shut  time  and  cock-shut  light  were 
used  to  express  the  evening  twilight. 

10  "Mortal  staring  war  "  sounds  rather  odd  and  harsh,  but  probably 
means  war  looking  with  deadly  eye,  or  staring  fatally,  on  its  victims.  So 
the  Poet  very  often  uses  mortal  for  that  which  kills,  not  that  which  dies. 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 8/ 

I,  as  I  may,  —  that  which  I  would  I  cannot, — 

With  best  advantage  will  deceive  the  time, 

And  aid  thee  in  this  doubtful  shock  of  arms  : 

But  on  thy  side  I  may  not  be  too  forward, 

Lest,  being  seen,  thy  brother,  tender  George, 

Be  executed  in  his  father's  sight. 

Farewell :  the  leisure  n  and  the  fearful  time 

Cuts  off  the  ceremonious  vows  of  love 

And  ample  interchange  of  sweet  discourse, 

Which  so-long-sunder'd  friends  should  dwell  upon  : 

God  give  us  leisure  for  these  rites  of  love  ! 

Once  more,  adieu  :  be  valiant,  and  speed  well ! 

Richm.    Good  lords,  conduct  him  to  his  regiment : 
I'll  strive,  with  troubled  thoughts,  to  take  a  nap, 
Lest  leaden  slumber  peise 12  me  down  to-morrow, 
When  I  should  mount  with  wings  of  victory  : 
Once  more,  good  night,  kind  lords  and  gentlemen. — 

\_Exeunt  Officers,  cVv.,  with  Stanley. 
O  Thou,  whose  captain  I  account  myself, 
Look  on  my  forces  with  a  gracious  eye  ; 
Put  in  their  hands  Thy  bruising  irons  of  wrath, 
That  they  may  crush  down  with  a  heavy  fall 
Th'  usurping  helmets  of  our  adversaries  ! 
Make  us  Thy  ministers  of  chastisement, 
That  we  may  praise  Thee  in  the  victory  ! 
To  Thee  I  do  commend  my  watchful  soul, 
Ere  I  let  fall  the  windows  of  mine  eyes  : 

11  We  still  have  a  phrase  equivalent  to  this,  however  harsh  it  may  seem  : 
"  I  would  do  this  if  leisure  would  permit  "  ;  where  leisure  stands  for  want 
of  leisure.  So  in  King  Richard  II,  i.  I :  "  Which  then  our  leisure  would 
not  let  us  hear."     See  As  You  Like  It,  page  79,  note  7. 

12  Peise  is  an  old  form  of  poise,  weigh  ;  much  used  in  the  Poet's  time. 


1 88  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  V. 

Sleeping  and  waking,  O,  defend  me  still !  [Sleeps. 

The  Ghost  of  Prince  Edward,  son  to  King  Henry  the  Sixth, 
rises  between  the  two  tents. 

Ghost  of  P.  E.    [To  K.  Rich.]    Let  me  sit  heavy  on  thy 
soul  to-morrow  ! 
Think,  how  thou  stabb'dst  me  in  my  prime  of  youth 
At  Tewksbury  :  despair,  therefore,  and  die  !  — 
[To  Richm.]    Be  cheerful,  Richmond ;  for  the  wronged  souls 
Of  butcher'd  princes  fight  in  thy  behalf : 
King  Henry's  issue,  Richmond,  comforts  thee. 

The  Ghost  of  King  Henry  the  Sixth  rises. 

Ghost  of  K.  H.    [To  K.  Rich.]    When  I  was  mortal,  my 
anointed  body 
By  thee  was  punched  full  of  deadly  holes  : 
Think  on  the  Tower  and  me  :  despair,  and  die  ; 
Harry  the  Sixth  bids  thee  despair  and  die  !  — 
[To  Richm.]    Virtuous  and  holy,  be  thou  conqueror  ! 
Harry,  that  prophesied  thou  shouldst  be  king, 
Doth  comfort  thee  in  sleep  :  live  thou,  and  nourish  ! 

The  Ghost  of  Clarence  rises. 

Ghost  of  C.    [To  K.  Rich.]    Let  me  sit  heavy  on  thy  soul 
to-morrow  ! 
I,  that  was  wash'd  to  death  with  fulsome  wine,13 
Poor  Clarence,  by  thy  guile  betray'd  to  death  ! 

13  Fulsome  probably  has  reference  to  the  qualities  of  Malmsey  wine, 
which  was  peculiarly  sweet  and  luscious,  so  much  so  as  to  cloy  the  appetite 
after  a  little  drinking.  —  The  Poet  has  represented  Clarence  as  having  been 
killed  before  he  was  thrown  into  the  butt  of  wine.  But  one  report  gave  it 
that  he  was  drowned  in  such  a  cask  of  drink. 


SCENE  ill.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  189 

To-morrow  in  the  battle  think  on  me, 

And  fall  thy  edgeless  sword  :   despair,  and  die  !  — 

[To  Richm.]    Thou  offspring  of  the  House  of  Lancaster, 

The  wronged  heirs  of  York  do  pray  for  thee  : 

Good  angels  guard  thy  battle  !  live,  and  nourish  ! 

The  Ghosts  of  Rivers,  Grey,  and  Vaughan,  rise. 

Ghost  of  R.    {To  K.  Rich.]    Let  me  sit  heavy  on  thy  soul 
to-morrow, 
Rivers,  that  died  at  Pomfret !  despair,  and  die  ! 

Ghost  of  G.    [To  K.  Rich.]    Think  upon  Grey,  and  let 

thy  soul  despair  ! 
Ghost  of  V.    [To  K.  Rich.]    Think  upon  Vaughan,  and, 
with  guilty  fear, 
Let  fall  thy  pointless  lance  :  despair,  and  die  ! 

All  three.    [To  Richm.]    Awake,  and  think  our  wrongs  in 
Richard's  bosom 
Will  conquer  him  !  awake,  and  win  the  day  ! 

The  Ghost  of  Hastings  rises. 

Ghost  of  H.    [To  K.  Rich.]    Bloody  and  guilty,  guiltily 
awake, 
And  in  a  bloody  battle  end  thy  days  ! 
Think  on  Lord  Hastings  :  so  despair,  and  die  !  — 
[To  Richm.]    Quiet  untroubled  soul,  awake,  awake  ! 
Arm,  fight,  and  conquer,  for  fair  England's  sake  ! 

The  Ghosts  of  the  two  young  Princes  rise. 

Ghosts   of  the   two   P.    [To  K.  Rich.]    Dream  on   thy 
cousins  smother'd  in  the  Tower : 
Let  us  be  lead  within  thy  bosom,  Richard, 
And  weigh  thee  down  to  ruin,  shame,  and  death  ! 


I9O  KING    RICHARD    THE  '  THIRD.  ACT  V. 

Thy  nephews'  souls  bid  thee  despair  and  die  !  — 

\To  Richm.]    Sleep,  Richmond,  sleep  in  peace,  and  wake 

in  joy ; 
Good  angels  guard  thee  from  the  boar's  annoy  ! 
Live,  and  beget  a  happy  race  of  kings  ! 
Edward's  unhappy  sons  do  bid  thee  flourish. 

The  Ghost  of  Queen  Anne  rises. 

Ghost  of  Q.  A.    \_To  K.  Rich.]    Richard,  thy  wife,  that 
wretched  Anne  thy  wife, 
That  never  slept  a  quiet  hour  with  thee, 
Now  fills  thy  sleep  with  perturbations  : 
To-morrow  in  the  battle  think  on  me, 
And  fall  thy  edgeless  sword  :  despair,  and  die  !  — 
{To  Richm.]    Thou  quiet  soul,  sleep  thou  a  quiet  sleep; 
Dream  of  success  and  happy  victory  ! 
Thy  adversary's  wife  doth  pray  for  thee. 

The  Ghost  of  Buckingham  rises. 

Ghost  of  B.    {To  K.  Rich.]    The  first  was  I  that  help'd 
thee  to  the  crown  ; 
The  last  was  I  that  felt  thy  tyranny  :  x 

O,  in  the  battle  think  on  Buckingham, 
And  die  in  terror  of  thy  guiltiness  ! 
Dream  on,  dream  on*  of  bloody  deeds  and  death : 
Fainting,  despair ;  despairing,  yield  thy  breath  !  — 
\To  Richm.]    I  died  for  hope14  ere  I  could  lend  thee  aid : 
But  cheer  thy  heart,  and  be  thou  not  dismay' d  : 
God  and  good  angels  fight  on  Richmond's  side  ! 

14  Buckingham's  hope  of  aiding  Richmond  induced  him  to  take  up  arms : 
he  lost  his  life  in  consequence,  and  therefore  may  be  said  to  have  died  for 
hope ;  hope  being  the  cause  which  led  to  that  event. 


scene  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  IC)I 

And  Richard  fall  in  height  of  all  his  pride  ! 15 

\The  Ghosts  vanish.     King  Richard  starts  out 

of  his  dream. 
K.  Rich.    Give  me  another  horse,  —  bind  up  my  wounds,  — 
Have  mercy,  Jesu  !  —  Soft !  I  did  but  dream. — 

0  coward  conscience,  how  dost  thou  afflict  me  !— 
The  lights  burn  blue.  —  It  is  now  dead  midnight. 
Cold  fearful  drops  stand  on  my  trembling  flesh. 
What  do  I  fear?  myself?  there's  none  else  by  : 
Richard  loves  Richard  ;  that  is,  I  am  I. 

Is  there  a  murderer  here?     No  ; — yes,  I  am  : 

Then  fly.     What,  from  myself?     Great  reason  why, — 

Lest  I  revenge  myself  upon  myself. 

Alack,  I  love  myself.     Wherefore  ?  for  any  good 

That  I  myself  have  done  unto  myself? 

O,  no  !  alas,  I  rather  hate  myself 

For  hateful  deeds  committed  by  myself ! 

1  am  a  villain  :  yet  I  lie,  I  am  not. 

Fool,  of  thyself  speak  well : — fool,  do  not  flatter. 
My  conscience  hath  a  thousand  several  tongues, 
And  every  tongue  brings  in  a  several  tale, 
And  every  tale  condemns  me  for  a  villain. 
Perjury,  perjury,  in  the  high'st  degree ; 

15  In  this  series  of  speeches  the  Poet  has  with  happy  effect  given  a  "  local 
habitation  and  a  name"  to  what  is  thus  stated  in  the  Chronicles  :  "The 
fame  went,  that  he  had  the  same  night  a  terrible  dreame ;  for  it  seemed  to 
him,  being  asleepe,  that  he  did  see  diverse  images  like  terrible  divels,  which 
pulled  and  haled  him,  not  suffering  him  to  take  anie  quiet  or  rest.  The 
which  strange  vision  not  so  suddenlie  strake  his  heart  with  feare,  but  it 
stuffed  his  head  with  many  busie  and  dreadfull  imaginations.  For  incon- 
tinent after,  his  heart  being  almost  damped,  he  prognosticated  the  doubtfull 
chance  of  the  battle,  not  using  the  alacritie  and  mirth  of  mind  and  counte- 
nance as  he  was  accustomed  to  doo." 


I92  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  V. 

Murder,  stern  murder,  in  the  direst  degree ; 
All  several  sins,  all  used  in  each  degree, 
Throng  to  the  bar,  crying  all  Guilty  1  guilty  ! 
I  shall  despair.     There  is  no  creature  loves  me ; 
And,  if  I  die,  no  soul  shall  pity  me  : 
Nay,  wherefore  should  they,  since  that  I  myself 
Find  in  myself  no  pity  to  myself?16 

Re-enter  Ratcliff. 

Rat.    My  lord,  — 

K.  Rich.   Who's  there  ? 

Rat.    My  lord,  'tis  I.     The  early  village-cock 
Hath  twice  done  salutation  to  the  morn ; 
Your  friends  are  up,  and  buckle  on  their  armour. 

K.  Rich.    O  Ratcliff,  I  have  dream'd  a  fearful  dream  ! 
What  thinkest  thou,  will  our  friends  prove  all  true  ? 

Rat.    No  doubt,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.  O  Ratcliff,  I  fear,  I  fear  ! 

Methought  the  souls  of  all  that  I  had  murder'd 
Came  to  my  tent ;  and  every  one  did  threat 
To-morrow's  vengeance  on  the  head  of  Richard. 

Rat.    Nay,  good  my  lord,  be  not  afraid  of  shadows. 

K.  Rich.    By  the  apostle  Paul,  shadows  to-night 
Have  struck  more  terror  to  the  soul  of  Richard 
Than  can  the  substance  of  ten  thousand  soldiers 
Armed  in  proof 17  and  led  by  shallow  Richmond. 
It  is  not  yet  near  day.     Come,  go  with  me  ; 

16  In  this  strange  speech  there  are  some  ten  lines  in  or  near  the  Poet's 
best  style ;  the  others  are  in  his  worst ;  so  inferior  indeed,  that  it  is  not  easy 
to  understand  how  Shakespeare  could  have  written  them  at  all. 

17  "Armed  in  proof"  is  encased  in  armour  that  is  proof  against  warlike 
weapons.  Probably  the  phrase  is  meant  to  include  offensive  as  well  as  de- 
fensive armour. 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 93 

Under  our  tents  I'll  play  the  eaves-dropper, 
To  hear  if  any  mean  to  shrink  from  me. 

\_Exeunt  King  Richard  and  Ratcliff. 

Re-enter  Oxford,  with  other  Lords,  &c. 

Lords.    Good  morrow,  Richmond  ! 

Richm.    [  Waking.']    Cry  mercy,  lords  and  watchful  gen- 
tlemen, 
That  you  have  ta'en  a  tardy  sluggard  here. 

Lords.    How  have  you  slept,  my  lord  ? 

Richm.   The  sweetest  sleep,  and  fairest-boding  dreams 
That  ever  enter'd  in  a  drowsy  head, 
Have  I  since  your  departure  had,  my  lords. 
Methought  their  souls,  whose  bodies  Richard  murder'd, 
Came  to  my  tent,  and  cried,  On  /  victory  / 
I  promise  you,  my  heart  is  very  jocund 
In  the  remembrance  of  so  fair  a  dream. 
How  far  into  the  morning  is  it,  lords  ? 

Lords.    Upon  the  stroke  of  four. 

Richm.   Why,  then  'tis  time  to  arm  and  give  direction. — 

\_He  advances  to  the  Troops. 
More  than  I  have  said,  loving  countrymen, 
The  leisure 18  and  enforcement  of  the  time 
Forbids  to  dwell  upon  :  yet  remember  this, 
God  and  our  good  cause  fight  upon  our  side ; 
The  prayers  of  holy  saints  and  wronged  souls, 
Like  high-rear'd  bulwarks,  stand  before  our  faces ; 
Richard  except,  those  whom  we  fight  against 
Had  rather  have  us  win  than  him  they  follow  : 
For  what  is  he  they  follow  ?  truly,  gentlemen, 
A  bloody  tyrant  and  a  homicide  ; 

18  Leisure,  again,  for  want  of  leisure.     See  page  187,  note  11. 


194 


KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  V. 


One  raised  in  blood,  and  one  in  blood  establish 'd ; 

One  that  made  means  to  come  by  what  he  hath, 

And  slaughtered  those  that  were  the  means  to  help  him ; 

A  base  foul  stone,  made  precious  by  the  foil 

Of  England's  chair,  where  he  is  falsely  set ; 19 

One  that  hath  ever  been  God's  enemy  : 

Then,  if  you  fight  against  God's  enemy, 

God  will,  in  justice,  ward  you  as  His  soldiers ; 

If  you  do  sweat  to  put  a  tyrant  down, 

You  sleep  in  peace,  the  tyrant  being  slain ; 

If  you  do  fight  against  your  country's  foes, 

Your  country's  fat  shall  pay  your  pains  the  hire  ; 

If  you  do  fight  in  safeguard  of  your  wives, 

Your  wives  shall  welcome  home  the  conquerors ; 

If  you  do  free  your  children  from  the  sword, 

Your  children's  children  quit20  it  in  your  age. 

Then,  in  the  name  of  God  and  all  these  rights, 

Advance  your  standards,  draw  your  willing  swords. 

For  me,  the  ransom  of  my  bold  attempt 

Shall  be  this  cold  corpse  on  the  earth's  cold  face  ; 

But  if  I  thrive,  the  gain  of  my  attempt 

The  least  of  you  shall  share  his  part  thereof.  — 

Sound  drums  and  trumpets,  boldly,  cheerfully ; 

God  and  Saint  George  !  Richmond  and  victory  !      [Exeunt 

Re-enter  King  Richard,  Ratcliff,  Attendants,  and  Forces. 

K.  Rich.    What  said  Northumberland  as  touching  Rich- 
mond ? 
Rat.   That  he  was  never  trained  up  in  arms. 

19  "  England's  chair  "  is  the  throne.     The  allusion  is  to  the  practice  of 
setting  gems  of  little  worth,  with  a  bright-coloured  foil  under  them. 

20  Quit,  again,  in  the  sense  of  requite.     See  page  157,  note  3. 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 95 

K.  Rich.    He  said  the  truth  :  and  what  said  Surrey  then  ? 

Rat.    He  smiled,  and  said,  The  better  for  our  purpose. 

K.  Rich.    He  was  i'  the  right ;  and  so  indeed  it  is.  — 

\Clock  strikes. 
Tell  the  clock  there.  —  Give  me  a  calendar.  — 
Who  saw  the  Sun  to-day  ? 

Rat.  Not  I,  my  lord. 

K.  Rich.   Then  he  disdains  to  shine  j  for,  by  the  book, 
He  should  have  braved21  the  East  an  hour  ago  : 
A  black  day  will  it  be  to  somebody.  — 
Ratcliff,— 

Rat.   My  lord  ? 

K.  Rich.  The  Sun  will  not  be  seen  to-day ; 

The  sky  doth  frown  and  lour  upon  our  army. 
I  would  these  dewy  tears  were  from  the  ground. 
Not  shine  to-day  !     Why,  what  is  that  to  me 
More  than  to  Richmond  ?  for  the  selfsame  heaven 
That  frowns  on  me  looks  sadly  upon  him. 

Enter  Norfolk. 

Nor.   Arm,  arm,  my  lord ;  the  foe  vaunts  in  the  field. 

K.  Rich.    Come,  bustle,  bustle  ;  —  caparison  my  horse  ;  — 
Call  up  Lord  Stanley,  bid  him  bring  his  power : 
I  will  lead  forth  my  soldiers  to  the  plain, 
And  thus  my  battle  shall  be  ordered  : 
My  foreward  shall  be  drawn  out  all  in  length, 
Consisting  equally  of  Horse  and  Foot ; 
Our  archers  shall  be  placed  in  the  midst : 
John  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Thomas  Earl  of  Surrey, 
Shall  have  the  leading  of  this  Foot  and  Horse. 
They  thus  directed,  we  ourself  will  follow 

21  To  brave  is,  in  one  of  its  senses,  to  make  fine,  splendid,  ox  glorious. 


I96  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  v. 

In  the  main  battle  ;  whose  puissance  on  either  side 
Shall  be  well  winged  with  our  chiefest  Horse. 
This,  and  Saint  George  to  boot ! 22  —  What  think'st  thou, 
Norfolk? 

Nor.   A  good  direction,  warlike  sovereign. — 
This  found  I  on  my  tent  this  morning.  [  Giving  a  scroll. 

K.  Rich.    [Reads.]  Jockey  of  Norfolk,  be  not  too  bold, 
For  Dickon  thy  master  is  bought  and  sold.23 
A  thing  devised  by  the  enemy. — 
Go,  gentlemen,  every  man  unto  his  charge  : 
Let  not  our  babbling  dreams  affright  our  souls ; 
Conscience  is  but  a  word  that  cowards  use, 
Devised  at  first  to  keep  the  strong  in  awe  : 
Our  strong  arms  be  our  conscience,  swords  our  law. 
March  on,  join  bravely,  let  us  to't  pell-mell ; 
If  not  to  Heaven,  then  hand  in  hand  to  Hell.  — 
\To  his  Soldiers.]  What  shall  I  say  more  than  I  have  inferr'd  ?24 
Remember  whom  you  are  to  cope  withal ; 
A  sort25  of  vagabonds,  rascals,  and  runaways, 

22  This,  and  Saint  George  to  help  us,  into  the  bargain. 

23  So  in  the  Chronicles  :  "  John  duke  of  Norffolke  was  warned  by  diverse 
to  refrain  from  the  field,  insomuch  that  the  night  before  he  should  set  for- 
ward toward  the  king,  one  wrote  this  rime  upon  his  gate  : 

Jocke  of  Norffolke,  be  not  too  bold, 

For  Dickon  thy  maister  is  bought  and  sold." 

Jocky  and  Dickon  were  familiar  forms  of  John  and  Richard.  —  Bought  and 
sold  was  a  sort  of  proverbial  phrase  for  hopelessly  ruined  by  treacherous 
practices. 

24  Here  again  we  have  inferr'd  for  brought  forward  or  alleged. 

25  Sort  here  means  crew,  pack,  or  set.  So  in  2  Henry  VI.,  iii.  2 :  "  He 
was  the  lord  ambassador  sent  from  a  sort  of  tinkers  to  the  King."  And  in 
A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream,  iii.  2,  Puck  describes  Bottom  as  "  the  shal- 
lowest thickskin  of  that  barren  sort ";  referring  to  the  "  crew  of  patches  H 
who  are  getting  up  the  interlude  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbe. 


SCENE  III.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  1 97 

A  scum  of  Bretagnes,  and  base  lacquey  peasants, 

Whom  their  o'er-cloyed  country  vomits  forth 

To  desperate  ventures  and  assured  destruction. 

You  sleeping  safe,  they  bring  to  you  unrest ; 

You  having  lands,  and  bless'd  with  beauteous  wives, 

They  would  distrain26  the  one,  distain  the  other. 

And  who  doth  lead  them  but  a  paltry  fellow, 

Long  kept  in  Bretagne  at  our  mother's  cost?27 

A  milk-sop,  one  that  never  in  his  life 

Felt  so  much  cold  as  over  shoes  in  snow? 

Let's  whip  these  stragglers  o'er  the  seas  again ; 

Lash  hence  these  overweening  rags  of  France, 

These  famish'd  beggars,  weary  of  their  lives  ; 

Who,  but  for  dreaming  on  this  fond  exploit, 

For  want  of  means,  poor  rats,  had  hang'd  themselves  : 

If  we  be  conquer'd,  let  men  conquer  us, 

And  not  these  bastard  Bretagnes  ;  whom  our  fathers 

Have  in  their  own  land  beaten,  bobb'd,  and  thump'd, 

And,  on  rec6rd,  left  them  the  heirs  of  shame. 

Shall  these  enjoy  our  lands  ?  [Drum  afar  off.~]   Hark  !  I  hear 

their  drum.  — 
Fight,  gentlemen  of  England  !  fight,  bold  yeomen  ! 

26  Distrain  is  here  used  in  its  old  sense  of  lawless  seizure.  See  King 
Richard  II,  page  94,  note  13. 

27  This  should  be  "  at  our  brother's  cost."  Richmond  was  in  fact  held  in 
a  sort  of  honourable  custody  at  the  Duke  of  Bretagne's  Court,  his  means 
being  supplied  by  Charles,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  who  was  Richard's  brother- 
in-law.  Hall  gives  the  matter  thus  :  "  And  to  begyn  with  the  earle  of  Rich- 
mond Captaine  of  this  rebellion,  he  is  a  Welsh  mylkesoppe,  a  man  of  small 
courage,  and  of  lesse  experience  in  marcyall  acts  and  feates  of  warr,  brought 
up  by  my  brothers  meanes  and  myne  like  a  captive  in  a  close  cage  in  the 
court  of  Frances  duke  of  Britaine."  Holinshed  copied  Hall's  account,  but 
in  Holinshed's  second  edition  "  moothers  meanes "  got  misprinted  for 
"  brothers  meanes  "  ;  and  hence  the  Poet's  mistake. 


I98  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  V. 

Draw,  archers,  draw  your  arrows  to  the  head  ! 
Spur  your  proud  horses  hard,  and  ride  in  blood ; 
Amaze  the  welkin  with  your  broken  staves  !28 — 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

What  says  Lord  Stanley  ?  will  he  bring  his  power  ? 

Mess.    My  lord,  he  doth  deny  to  come. 

K.Rich.    Off  with  his  son  George's  head  ! 

Nor.    My  lord,  the  enemy  is  past  the  marsh  : 29 
After  the  battle  let  George  Stanley  die. 

K.  Rich.   A  thousand  hearts  are  great  within  my  bosom  : 
Advance  our  standards,  set  upon  our  foes ; 
Our  ancient  word  of  courage,  fair  Saint  George, 
Inspire  us  with  the  spleen  of  fiery  dragons  ! 
Upon  them  !     Victory  sits  on  our  helms.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  IV.  —  Another  Part  of  the  Field. 

Alarums :  excursions.     Enter  Norfolk  and  Forces  ;  to  him 

Catesby. 

Cate.    Rescue,  my  Lord  of  Norfolk,  rescue,  rescue  ! 
The  King  enacts  more  wonders  than  a  man, 
Daring  an  opposite  to  every  danger  : 1 

28  Fright  the  skies  with  the  shivers  of  your  lances. 

29  Betweene  both  armies  there  was  a  great  marish,  which  the  earle  of 
Richmond  left  on  his  right  hand ;  for  this  intent,  that  it  should  be  on  that 
side  a  defense  for  his  part,  and  in  so  dooing  he  had  the  sunne  at  his  backe, 
and  in  the  faces  of  his  enimies.  When  king  Richard  saw  the  earles  com- 
panie  was  passed  the  marish,  he  did  command  with  all  hast  to  set  upon 
them.  —  HOLINSHED. 

1  The  Poet  repeatedly  uses  opposite  for  opponent  or  adversary.  So  that 
"  daring  an  opposite  to  every  danger  "  probably  means  offering  himself  as 
an  opponent  in  every  danger,  or,  which  comes  to  the  same  thing,  challenging 
every  dangerous  antagonist  to  fight  with  him. 


SCENE  v.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  199 

His  horse  is  slain,  and  all  on  foot  he  fights, 
Seeking  for  Richmond  in  the  throat  of  death. 
Rescue,  fair  lord,,  or  else  the  day  is  lost ! 

Alarums.     Enter  King  Richard. 

K.  Rich.   A  horse  !  a  horse  !  my  kingdom  for  a  horse  ! 

Cate.   Withdraw,  my  lord  ;  I'll  help  you  to  a  horse. 

K.  Rich.    Slave,  I  have  set  my  life  upon  a  cast, 
And  I  will  stand  the  hazard  of  the  die  : 
I  think  there  be  six  Richmonds  in  the  field ; 
Five  have  I  slain  to-day  instead  of  him.2  — 
A  horse  !  a  horse  !  my  kingdom  for  a  horse  !  {Exeunt 


Scene  V.  —  Another  Part  of  the  Field. 

Alarums.  Enter,  from  opposite  sides,  King  Richard  and 
Richmond;  they  fight,  and  exeunt  fighting.  Retreat  and 
flourish.  Then  re-enter  Richmond,  with  Stanley  bearing 
the  crown,  and  divers  other  Lords,  and  Forces. 

Richm.  God  and  your  arms  be  praised,  victorious  friends  ; 
The  day  is  ours,  the  bloody  dog  is  dead. 

2  Shakespeare  employs  this  incident  with  historical  propriety  in  The 
First  Part  of  King  Henry  IV.  He  had  here  also  good  ground  for  his 
poetical  exaggeration.  Richard,  according  to  the  Chronicl&s,  was  deter- 
mined if  possible  to  engage  with  Richmond  in  single  combat.  For  this 
purpose  he  rode  furiously  to  that  quarter  of  the  field  where  the  Earl  was ; 
attacked  his  standard  bearer,  Sir  William  Brandon,  and  killed  him ;  then 
assaulted  Sir  John  Cheney,  whom  he  overthrew.  Having  thus  at  length 
cleared  his  way  to  his  antagonist,  he  engaged  in  single  combat  with  him, 
and  probably  would  have  been  victorious,  but  that  at  that  instant  Sir 
William  Stanley  with  three  thousand  men  joined  Richmond's  army,  and 
the  voyal  forces  fled  with  great  precipitation.  Richard  was  soon  afterwards 
overpowered  by  numbers,  and  fell,  fighting  bravely  to  the  last. 


200  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  ACT  V. 

Stan.    Courageous  Richmond,  well  hast  thou  acquit3  thee. 
Lo,  here,  this  long-usurped  royalty 
From  the  dead  temples  of  this  bloody  wretch 
Have  I  pluck'd  off,  to  grace  thy  brows  withal  : 
Wear  it,  enjoy  it,  and  make  much  of  it. 

Richm.    Great  God  of  Heaven,  say  Amen  to  all !  — 
But,  tell  me  now,  is  young  George  Stanley  living? 

Stan.    He  is,  my  lord,  and  safe  in  Leicester  town ; 
Whither,  if 't  please  you,  we  may  now  withdraw  us. 

Richm.    What  men  of  name  are  slain  on  either  side  ? 

Stan.   John  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Walter  Lord  Ferrers, 
Sir  Robert  Brakenbury,  and  Sir  William  Brandon. 

Richm.    Inter  their  bodies  as  becomes  their  births  : 
Proclaim  a  pardon  to  the  soldiers  fled 
That  in  submission  will  return  to  us  : 
And  then,  as  we  have  ta'en  the  Sacrament, 
We  will  unite  the  white  rose  and  the  red  :  — 
Smile  Heaven  upon  this  fair  conjunction, 
That  long  hath  frown 'd  upon  their  enmity  !— 
What  traitor  hears  me,  and  says  not  Amen  ? 
England  hath  long  been  mad  and  scarr'd  herself; 
The  brother  blindly  shed  the  brother's  blood, 
The  father  rashly  slaughter' d  his  own  son, 
The  son,  compell'd,  been  butcher  to  the  sire  : 
All  this  divided  York  and  Lancaster, 
O,  now  let  Richmond  and  Elizabeth, 
The  true  succeeders  of  each  royal  House,  — 
Divided  in  their  dire  division, — 
By  God's  fair  ordinance  conjoin  together  ! 
And  let  their  heirs — God,  if  Thy  will  be  so — 

3  Acquit  for  acquitted.     See  page  85,  note  14,  and  page  122,  note  2. 


SCENE  IV.  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD.  201 

Enrich  the  time  to  come  with  smooth-faced  peace, 

With  smiling  plenty,  and  fair  prosperous  days  ! 

Abate 4  the  edge  of  traitors,  gracious  Lord, 

That  would  reduce  5  these  bloody  days  again, 

And  make  poor  England  weep  in  streams  of  blood  ! 

Let  them  not  live  to  taste  this  land's  increase 

That  would  with  treason  wound  this  fair  land's  peace  ! 

Now  civil  wounds  are  stopp'd,  peace  lives  again : 

That  she  may  long  live  here,  God  say  Amen  !  \_Exeunt. 

4  Abate  here  means  make  dull,  like  rebate.  So,  in  Love's  Labours  Lost, 
i.  i :  "  That  honour  which  shall  'bate  his  scythe's  keen  edge."  Also,  in  the 
novel  of  Pericles,  1608  :  "  Absence  abates  that  edge  that  presence  whets." 
And  Florio  :  "  Spontare,  —  to  abate  the  edge  or  point  of  any  thing  or  wea- 
pon, to  blunt,  to  tinpoint." 

5  Reduce,  again,  in  the  Latin  sense  of  bring  back.    See  page  98,  note  10. 


CRITICAL   NOTES. 


Act  i.,  Scene  i. 

Page  49.  That  tempers  him  to  this  extremity.  —  So  the  quarto  of 
1597.  The  quarto  of  1598  corrupted  tempers  into  tempts,  thus  leaving 
the  verse  defective;  and  the  folio,  to  complete  the  verse,  printed  "That 
tempts  him  to  this  harsh  Extremity." 

P.  49.  Beseech  your  Graces  both  to  pardon  me.  —  The  old  copies 
have  "/beseech."  In  such  phrases  as  "I  beseech,"  "I  pray,"  &c, 
the  elision  of  the  pronoun  is  too  common  in  Shakespeare  to  need  any 
special  remark. 

P.  50.  Well  struck  in  years,  fair,  and  not  jealous.  —  The  folio  has 
jealious ;  and,  as  a  trisyllable  is  wanted  here  to  complete  the  verse, 
perhaps  it  should  be  printed  so.  Walker  asks,  "  Why  not  write 
jealiotis  in  this  place?  " 

P.  50.  And  the  Queen's  kindred  are  made  gentlefolks.  —  The  old 
copies  read  "  And  that  the  Queenes  Kindred."  But  the  repetition  of 
that  is  needless  as  regards  the  sense,  and  defeats  the  rhythm  of  the 
line. 

P.  50.  Beseech  your  Grace  to  pardon  me.  —  Here,  again,  the  old 
editions  have  "/  beseech,"  and  "/  do  beseech." 

P.  52.  Till  George  be  packed  with  post-\izsX&  up  to  Heaven.  —  So 
Collier's  second  folio.  The  old  copies  have  post-horse  instead  of  post- 
haste. In  support  of  the  old  reading,  Dyce  quotes  from  the  Induction 
to  2  King  Henry  IV.,  where  Rumour  speaks  of  "  Making  the  wind  my 
post-horse."  But  it  seems  to  me  that  the  two  cases  are  by  no  means 
parallel :  there  the  instrument  of  motion  was  to  be  expressed,  here  the 
manner. 


204  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 


Act  i.,  Scene  2. 

P.  58.  Thou  wast  the  cause,  and  most  accursed  th'  effect.  —  So 
Hanmer.  The  old  text  reads  "  Thou  was't  the  cause,  and  most  accurst 
effect." 

P.  58.    To  undertake  the  death  of  all  the  world, 

So  I  might  live  one  hour  in  your  szveet  bosom. —  So  the  folio. 
The  quartos  have  rest  instead  of  live.  Lettsom  would  change  live  to 
lie,  as  the  two  words  were  often  confounded.  But  live  was  probably- 
meant  in  antithesis  to  death  in  the  line  before. 

P.  59.  Not  when  my  father  York  and  Edward  wept.  —  So  Pope. 
The  folio  has  No  instead  of  Not.     The  line  is  not  in  the  quartos. 

P.  62.     With  curses  in  her  mouth,  tears  in  her  eyes, 

The  bleeding  witness  of  her  hatred  by.  —  So  the  quartos.  The 
folio  has  "witness  of  my  hatred,"  which  some  editors  prefer.  But 
"witness  of  my  hatred  "  to  what?  Richard  is  speaking  of  the  causes 
which  the  Lady  Anne  has  for  hating  himself,  and  he  regards  King 
Henry's  death  as  one  of  them,  and  the  presence  of  Henry's  bleeding 
corse  is  a  witness  to  that  hatred. 

P.  63.  Young,  wise,  and  valiant,  and,  no  doubt,  right  royal.  —  So 
Pope.  The  old  text  reads  "Yong,  Valiant,  Wise,  and  (no  doubt) 
right  Royal."  Surely  there  ought  to  be  no  hitch  or  halting  in  the  metre 
here.  Various  ways  of  rectifying  the  verse  have  been  proposed,  but 
Pope's  is  the  simplest. 

Act  i.,  Scene  3. 

P.  64.  Here  come  the  Lords  of  Buckingham  and  Stanley.  —  Here 
and  four  times  afterwards  in  this  scene,  as  also  in  several  other  places, 
the  old  editions  have  Derby  instead  of  Stanley  ;  but  they  have  Stanley 
in  a  still  larger  number  of  places.  In  fact,  the  Lord  Stanley  of  this 
play  did  not  become  Earl  of  Derby  till  after  the  accession  of  Henry 
VII.     For  this  confusion  of  names  or  titles  in  the  old  copies  it  is  not 


CRITICAL    NOTES.  2C>5 

easy  to  account ;  but  it  seems  hardly  credible  that  it  could  have  origi- 
nated with  Shakespeare :  at  all  events,  I  can  see  no  sufficient  reason 
for  retaining  it  in  the  text,  as  some  editors  do. 

P.  67.  That  thereby  he  may  gather 

The  ground  of  your  ill-will,  and  so  remove  it. — The  quartos 
have  "  and  to  remove  it."  The  correction  is  Capell's.  The  folio  has 
merely  "  that  he  may  learne  the  ground,"  omitting  the  rest. 

P.  70.  As  little  joy  enjoys  the  Queen  thereof. — The  old  copies  have 
"A  little  joy."  But  A  is  no  doubt  a  misprint  for  As ;  for  Margaret  is 
running  a  variation  upon  what  Elizabeth  has  just  said,  and  the  latter 
began  her  speech  with  "As  little  joy." 

P.  73.    Thou  that  wast  seaPd  in  thy  nativity 

The  slave  of  Nature  and  the  son  of  Hell.  —  It  appears  that 
some  have  stumbled  at  the  words  slave  and  son  here.  Collier's  second 
folio  has  "  The  stain  of  nature  and  the  scorn  of  Hell  ";  Singer's,  "  The 
shame  of  nature  and  the  spawn  of  Hell."  For  my  part,  I  have  to  con- 
fess that  the  words  have  never  troubled  me  ;  and  I  think  Walker  is 
right  in  saying  that  a  slave  of  nature  means  "  neither  more  nor  less 
than  a  bom  villain." 

P.  75.  Riv.  Peace,  peace,  for  shame,  if  not  for  charity.  —  The  old 
text  assigns  this  speech  to  Buckingham.  But  Margaret's  reply  to  it, 
and  her  next  speech,  which  is  addressed  to  Buckingham,  show  that  the 
prefix  "Buc."  must  be  wrong.  Walker  points  out  the  error,  and  Lett- 
som  remarks  that  perhaps  the  speech  should  be  given  to  Rivers. 


Act  i.,  Scene  4. 

P.  81.  Brak.  I  will,  my  lord :  God give  your  Grace  good  rest !  — 
Sorrow  breaks  seasons  and  reposing  hours,  &c.  —  So  the 
quartos.  Between  these  two  lines,  the  folio  has  "Enter  Brakenbury 
the  Lieutenant"  and  prefixes  "Bra."  to  the  second  line  ;  the  preceding 
dialogue  being  between  Clarence  and  the  "Keeper"  and  having  "Enter 
Clarence  and  Keeper"  at  the  opening  of  the  scene.     Of  course  this  is 


206  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

making  the  Lieutenant  and  the  Keeper  two  distinct  persons.  Why  the 
folio  made  this  change  upon  the  quartos,  is  not  very  apparent,  there 
being  nothing  gained  by  such  variety  of  speakers.  I  must  add  that,  in 
the  last  speech  of  Clarence  before  the  entrance  of  Brakenbury,  the 
folio  has  "Ah  Keeper,  Keeper,  I  have  done  these  things,"  instead  of 
"O  Brakenbury,  I  have  done  those  things."  Also,  in  Brakenbury's 
speech  a  little  after,  the  folio  has  "  There  lies  the  Duke  asleepe,  and 
there  the  keys,"  instead  of  "Here  are  the  keys  ;  there  sits  the  duke 
asleep."  White  objects  to  the  quarto  arrangement  and  reading,  that 
"  it  was  a  violation  of  all  propriety  to  make  Sir  Robert  Brakenbury, 
Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  go  about  with  a  bunch  of  ponderous  keys  at 
his  girdle  or  in  his  hand."  But  why  may  not  the  Lieutenant  have 
taken  the  keys. from  one  of  his  subordinates,  for  the  purpose  of  visiting 
Clarence  ?  And  is  there  not  quite  as  much  impropriety  in  making 
Clarence,  a  prince  of  the  royal  blood,  unbosom  himself  so  freely  in  a 
dialogue  with  a  mere  turnkey  of  the  prison  ? 

P.  83.  /  hope  my  holy  humour  will  change.  —  So  the  quartos.  The 
folio  " this  passionate  humor  of  mine"  Here,  again,  I  prefer  the 
quarto  text,  because  the  same  speaker,  in  his  next  speech,  says,  "  some 
certain  dregs  of  conscience  are  yet  within  me." 

P.  88.  Hast  thou  that  holy  feeling  in  thy  soul,  &c.  —  In  the  quartos, 
this  and  the  three  following  lines  are  addressed  to  the  second  murderer 
only,  and  in  reply  to  what  is  said  by  him  alone  just  before,  "  Make 
peace  with  God."  The  folio  reads  "Have  you  that  holy  feeling  in  your 
soules,"  &c,  and  makes  the  whole  speech  an  address  to  both  the  Mur- 
derers. 

P.  88.    2  Murd.    What  shall  we  do  ? 

Clar.  Relent,  and  save  your  souls. 

I  Murd.   Relent !  "'tis  cowardly  and  womanish. 

Clar.    Not  to  relent  is  beastly,  savage,  devilish.  — 
My  friend,  I  spy  so?ne  pity  in  thy  looks  ; 
O,  if  thine  eye  be  not  a  flatterer, 
Come  thou  on  my  side,  and  entreat  for  me  : 
A  begging  prince  what  beggar  pities  not  ? 


CRITICAL    NOTES.  20J 

i  Murd.  Ay,  [Stabbing  him.]  thus,  and  thus,  &c.  —  So  the 
first  quarto,  which  is  followed  by  Capell,  Staunton,  and  Dyce  in  his 
last  edition.  The  other  quartos  have  the  same,  with  only  some  slight 
variations.     The  folio  has  the  following  : 

2.  Whall  shall  we  do? 

Cla.    Relent,  and  save  your  soules : 
Which  of  you,  if  you  were  a  Princes  Sonne, 
Being  pent  from  Liberty,  as  I  am  now, 
If  two  such  murtherers  as  your  selves  came  to  you, 
Would  not  intreatfor  life,  as  you  would  begge 
Were  you  in  my  distresse. 

i.   Relent?  no:  'Tis  cowardly  and  womanish. 

Cla.   Not  to  relent,  is  beastly,  savage,  divellish  : 
My  Friend,  I  spy  some  pitty  in  thy  lookes  : 
O,  if  thine  eye  be  not  a  Flatterer, 
Come  thou  on  my  side,  and  intreate  for  mee, 
A  begging  Prince,  what  begger  pitties  not. 

2.  Looke  behinde  you,  my  Lord. 

i.  Take  that,  and  that,  &c. 

Here  it  is  manifest  that  the  folio  additions  serve  no  purpose  but  to 
embarrass  and  enfeeble  the  dialogue :  besides,  in  some  places  it  is 
hardly  possible  to  make  any  sense  out  of  them.  To  amend  the  latter 
fault,  they  have  been  variously  tinkered  at,  but  with  only  partial  suc- 
cess. I  therefore  have  no  scruple  of  concurring  with  the  other  editors 
named  in  omitting  them  altogether  as  an  unauthorized  intrusion. 

P.  88.   Hotv  fain,  like  Pilate,  would  I  wash  my  hands 

Of  this  most  grievous  murder! — So  the  folio.     The  quartos 
have  "  Of  this  most  grievous  guilty  murder  done.'''' 


Act  ii.,  Scene  i. 

P.  92.  Of  you,  Lord  Rivers,  —  and,  Lord  Grey,  of  you, 
That  all  without  desert  have  frown1  d  on  me  ;  — 
Dukes,  earls,  lords, gentlemen  ;  —  indeed,  of  all.  —  So  the  quartos. 
Between  the  second  and  third  of  these  lines,  the  folio  has  the  follow- 
ing line  :  "  Of  you  Lord  Woodvill,  and  Lord  Scales  of  you."  Malone 
pointed  out  the  fact,  that  there  was  no  such  person  as  Lord  Woodville, 
and  that  Lord  Scales  was  the  oldest  son  of  Earl  Rivers. 


208  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 


Act  ii.,  Scene  2. 

P.  100.  Hast.  And  so  in  me  ;  and  so,  I  think,  in  all:  &c.  —  The 
old  copies  assign  this  speech  to  Rivers  ;  which  can  hardly  be  right,  as 
Rivers  has  all  along  been  opposed  to  the  faction  who  are  here  trying 
to  dissemble  their  thoughts.  The  old  copies  also  give  the  next  speech 
to  Hastings,  which  is  here  assigned  to  Stanley.  The  corrections  are 
Capell's. 

Act  11.,  Scene  4. 

P.  105.    Q.  Eliz.  For  what  offence  ? 

Mess.  The  sum  of  all  I  can  I  have  disclosed  : 
Why  or  for  what  these  nobles  were  committed 
Is  all  unknown  to  me,  my  gracious  lady.  —  The  old  copies 
assign  the  first  of  these  speeches  to  the  Archbishop;  the  quartos,  with 
the  prefix  "  Car."  the  folio,  with  "  Arch."  But  the  quartos  have  Lady 
at  the  end  of  the  next  speech,  while  the  folio  has  Lord,  thus  making 
the  correction  in  the  wrong  place.     Johnson  detected  the  error. 

Act  hi.,  Scene  i. 

P.  109.    You  are  too  senseless-obstinate,  my  lord, 

Too  ceremonious  and  traditional  ; 

Weigh  it  but  zvith  the  grossness  of  this  age. 

You  break  not  sanctuary  in  seizing  him  :  &c.  —  I  here  adopt 
the  punctuation  proposed  by  Heath.  The  pointing  commonly  fol- 
lowed, both  in  the  old  and  in  modern  editions,  sets  a  colon  at  the  end 
of  the  second  line,  and  a  comma  at  the  end  of  the  third;  thus  con- 
necting the  third  line  with  what  follows,  not  with  what  precedes.  With 
this  pointing,  I  see  no  way  but  to  accept  Warburton's  alteration  of  the 
text,  "  the  greenness  of  his  age,"  or  something  equivalent.  With  that 
change,  the  sense  is,  "  If  you  consider  the  matter  with  due  reference 
to  the  childish  and  tender  age  of  the  Prince,  you  break  not  sanctuary 
in  taking  him  away."  Here  we  have  no  want  of  logical  coherence  ; 
but,  with  the  old  reading  and  the  old  pointing,  no  such  coherence 
seems  possible.  The  passage  has  troubled  editors  a  good  deal ;  and 
other  textual  changes  have  been  proposed :  Collier's  second  folio  has 


CRITICAL    NOTES.  209 

"  the  goodness  of  his  age  ";  and  Lettsom  notes  that  "  the  context  seems 
to  require  a  word  like  cunning  or  knowledge?'  I  at  one  time  thought 
that  "grossness  of  this  age  "  might  refer  to  the  gross  abzises  of  sanctuary 
practised  in  that  age  ;  but  this  consideration  really  does  nothing  towards 
healing  the  logical  incoherence.  However,  as  those  abuses  are  largely 
insisted  on  in  Buckingham's  speech  as  reported  by  More,  I  subjoin  a 
considerable  extract  from  the  latter  : 

Now  look  how  few  sanctuary  men  there  be  whom  necessity  or  misfortune  compelled 
to  go  thither.  And  then  see,  on  the  other  side,  what  a  sort  there  be  commonly  therein 
of  such  whom  wilful  unthriftiness  hath  brought  to  naught.  What  a  rabble  of  thieves, 
murderers,  and  malicious  heinous  traitors  there  be,  and  that  in  two  places  specially ; 
the  one  at  the  elbow  of  the  city,  and  the  other  in  the  very  bowels.  I  dare  well  avow 
it,  if  you  weigh  the  good  that  they  do,  with  the  hurt  that  cometh  of  them, ye  shall 
fi?id  it  miich  better  to  lose  both  than  to  have  both.  And  this  I  say,  although  they 
were  not  abused  (as  they  now  be,  and  long  have  been,)  that  I  fear  me  ever  they  will 
be,  while  men  be  afeared  to  set-to  their  hands  to  the  amendment,  as  though  God  and 
Saint  Peter  were  the  patrons  of  ungracious  living.  Now  unthrifts  riot  and  run  in 
debt  upon  boldness  of  these  places;  yea,  rich  men  run  thither  with  poor  men's  goods; 
there  they  build,  there  they  spend,  and  bid  their  creditors  go  whistle.  Men's  wives 
run  thither  with  their  husbands'  plate,  and  say  they  dare  not  abide  with  their  husbands 
for  beating:  thieves  bring  thither  stolen  goods,  and  live  thereon.  There  devise  they 
new  robberies  nightly,  and  steal  out  and  rob,  reave,  and  kill  men,  and  come  again  into 
those  places,  as  though  those  places  gave  them  not  only  a  safeguard  for  the  harm  that 
they  have  done,  but  a  license  also  to  do  more  mischief.  Where  a  man  is  by  lawful 
means  in  peril,  there  needeth  he  the  tuition  of  some  special  privilege,  which  is  the 
only  ground  of  all  sanctuaries  ;  from  which  necessity  this  noble  prince  is  far,  whose 
love  to  his  king,  nature  and  kindred  proveth  ;  whose  innocency  to  all  the  world,  his 
tender  youth  afhrmeth  ;  and  so  sanctuary,  as  for  him,  is  not  necessary.  Men  come 
not  to  sanctuary  as  they  come  to  baptism,  to  require  it  by  his  godfathers  :  he  must 
ask  it  himself  that  must  have  it ;  and  reason,  sith  no  man  hath  cause  to  have  it,  but 
whose  conscience  of  his  own  fault  maketh  him  have  need  to  require  it.  What  will, 
then,  hath  yonder  babe,  which,  if  he  had  discretion  to  require  it,  if  need  were,  I  dare 
say  would  be  now  right  angry  with  them  that  keep  him  there.  And  verily  I  have 
heard  of  sanctziary  men,  biit  I  never  heard  before  of  sanctuary  children.  And 
he  that  taketh  one  out  of  sanctuary  to  do  hi7n  good,  I  say  -plainly,  he  breaketh  no 
sanctuary. 

P.  109.    This  Prince  hath  neither  claim'' d  it  nor  deserved  it ; 

Therefore,  in  mine  opinion,  cannot  have  it.  —  So  the  second 
folio.  The  earlier  editions  have  "And  therefore."  Probably  a  repeti- 
tion by  mistake  from  the  second  line  above,  "And  those  who,"  &c. 

P.  112.  I'd  weigh  it  lightly,  were  it  heavier. —  So  Hanmer.  The 
old  text  has  "/weigh  it  lightly." 


2IO  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

P.  112.  I  wotild,  that  I  might  thank  you,  as  —  as — you  call  me-  — 
The  folio  has  "  thank  you,  as,  as,  you  call  me."  Modern  editions 
print  "  thank  you,  as  you  call  me."  Walker  quotes  the  line  as  given 
in  the  folio,  and  then  adds,  "  Meaning,  I  suppose,  'as  —  as  —  you  call 
me.'     May  not  this  be  the  right  reading  ?  " 

P.  115.   My  lord,  what  shall  we  do,  if  we  perceive 

Lord  Hastings  will  not  yield  to  otir  complots  ?  —  The  old  copies 
have  "Now,  my  Lord,  What  shall  wee  doe."  Here  Now  does  nothing 
but  clog  both  sense  and  metre.     Omitted  by  Pope. 

Act  hi.,  Scene  2. 

P.  120.  Come  the  next  Sabbath,  and  I  will  content  you.  —  After  this 
line,  the  folio  makes  the  Priest  answer,  "  He  wait  upon  your  Lordship." 
As  these  are  precisely  the  words  in  which  Hastings  is  there  made  to 
answer  Buckingham  a  little  after,  it  seems  altogether  probable  that 
they  were  inserted  twice  by  mistake.  The  quartos  lack  them  in  both 
places. 

Act  hi.,  Scene  3. 

P.  122.  Make  haste  ;  the  hour  of  death  is  expirate. — The  first  folio 
has  "the  houre  of  death  is  expiate ."  For  "is  expiate,"  the  second 
folio  substitutes  "is  now  expired."  The  quartos  give  the  whole  line 
thus:  "Come,  come,  dispatch,  the  limit  of  your  lives  is  out  ";  repeat- 
ing a  line  that  occurs  a  little  before.  Steevens  proposed  expirate,  and 
so  Singer  prints.  The  sense  of  expired  is  evidently  wanted  here  ;  and 
I  more  than  doubt  whether  expiate  was  ever  used  in  that  sense.  Nor 
can  that  sense  be  fairly  drawn  from  any  of  the  recognized  meanings  of 
the  verb  expio,  while  it  is  one  of  the  commonest  meanings  of  the  Latin 
exspiratus  or  expiratus.  It  is  true,  the  Poet's  22d  Sonnet  has  "  Then 
look  I  death  my  days  should  expiate  "  /  but  here  again  I  have  little 
doubt  that  expiate  is  a  misprint  for  expirate. 

Act  hi.,  Scene  4. 

P.  122.   Buck.   Are  all  things  ready  for  that  royal  time  ? 

Stan.   They  are  ;   and  wants  but  nomination.  —  So  Capell. 
Instead  of  They  are,  the  old  text  has  It  is.     This  was  probably  a  soph- 


CRITICAL    NOTES.  211 

istication  introduced  in  order  to  make  a  subject  for  wants,  whereas 
nomination  is  the  subject  of  wants  :  "  and  there  wants,"  or  "  there  is 
wanting  but  the  naming  of  the  time." 

P.  125.     What  of  his  heart  perceive  you  hi  his  face 

By  any  likelihood  he  showed  to  day.  —  So  the  quartos.  The 
folio  has  lively  hood  instead  of  likelihood.  Some  editors  prefer  the  folio 
reading,  and  support  it  by  quoting  from  All's  Well  that  Ends  Well, 
i.  I  :  "  The  tyranny  of  her  sorrows  takes  all  livelihood  from  her  cheek  " ; 
where  livelihood  is  put  for  liveliness.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  the  two 
cases  are  by  no  means  parallel.  The  sense  of  appearance  or  sign  is 
plainly  required  in  the  text ;  and  likelihood  may  very  well  bear  that 
sense. 

P.  125.  Lovel  and  Rat  cliff,  look  that  it  be  done.  —  See  foot-note  10. 
As  this  scene  is  in  London,  and  as  in  the  preceding,  which  falls  on  the 
same  day,  Ratcliff  is  represented  as  being  at  Pomfret,  Theobald  here 
substituted  Catesby  for  Ratcliff.  But,  as  we  have  Ratcliff  again  in  the 
next  scene,  which  also  falls  on  the  same  day,  and  as  the  change  cannot 
there  be  made  without  taking  too  much  liberty  with  the  old  text,  I 
deem  it  best  to  let  the  impropriety  pass.  Should  we  undertake  to  rec- 
tify all  the  discrepancies  of  this  sort  in  Shakespeare,  we  should  be  — 
one  can  hardly  tell  where. 

Act  hi.,  Scene  5. 

P.  129.    Because,  my  lord,  we  would  have  had  you  hear 

The  traitor  speak,  &c.  —  The  old  text  has  "  we  would  have  had 
you  heard."  The  Poet  probably  wrote  heare,  and  we  have  many  in- 
stances of  final  d  and  final  e  confounded. 

P.  130.   Even  where  his  raging  eye  or  savage  heart, 

Without  control,  listed  to  make  a  prey.  —  So  the  folio.  The 
quartos  have  "his  lustfull  eye."  Pope  changed  raging  to  ranging. 
But  "  raging  eye  "  is  a  good  classical  phrase,  and  Dryden  has  it  in  his 
translation  of  Virgil. 

Act  hi.,  Scene  7. 

P.  134.    But,  like  dumb  statuas  or  breathing  stones, 

Stared  on  each  other,  and  looked  deadly  pale.  — The  old  text  has 


212  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

"  dumb  statues  "  /  but  the  verse  clearly  requires  a  trisyllable,  and  statua 
was  often  used  in  all  sorts  of  writing.  All  the  quartos,  except  the  first 
two,  have  breathlesse  instead  of  breathing.  Rowe  printed  "  like  dumb 
statues  or  unbreathing  stones,"  and  Lettsom  proposes  "  like  dumb 
statuas,  unbreathing  stones."  -  But  "  breathing  stones "  seems  to  me 
better  in  itself,  let  alone  the  authority  of  the  old  copies. 

P.  136.  He  is  not  lolling  on  a  lewd  day- bed.  —  So  Pope.  The  old 
copies  have  lulling  for  lolling ;  and  the  folio  has  love-bed  instead  of 
day-bed.  The  change  of  lulling  to  lolling  is  fully  warranted  from 
Troilus  and  Cressida,  i.  3,  where  the  old  text  has  "  The  large  Achilles, 
on  his  press'd  bed  lolling."  And  I  can  hardly  think  that  Buckingham 
would  hint  at  the  late  King  as  "  lolling  on  a  lewd  love-bed  "  in  the 
day-time. 

P.  1 36.  But  sore  /  fear  me  shall  not  win  him  to  it.  —  So  Collier's 
second  folio.  The  old  copies  have  sure  instead  of  sore.  Dyce  ap- 
proves the  change  by  citing  from  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  v.  I  sftf'  I'll 
fear  no  other  thing  so  sore  as  keeping  safe  Nerissa's  ring." 

P.  137.   And,  see,  a  book  of  prayer  in  his  hand, — 

True  ornament  to  know  a  holy  man.  —  These  two  lines  occur 
only  in  the  folio,  and  that  has  ornaments.  The  misprinting  of  singu- 
lars and  plurals  for  each  other  was  very  common.  Of  course  the 
meaning  is,  "  to  know  a  holy  man  by." 

P.  138.   Her  face  defaced 'with  scars  of  infamy, 
Her  royal  stock  graft  with  ignoble  plants, 

And  almost  shoulder'd  in  the  swallowing  gulf,  &c.  —  The  sec- 
ond of  these  lines  is  not  in  the  quartos,  and  the  folio  has  "  His  royal 
stock," — an  obvious  error.  In  the  third  line,  Johnson  proposed  to 
read  smoulder'd  instead  of  shoulder'd,  and  Walker  approves  of  that 
reading.     See,  however,  foot-note  15. 

P.  139'  But  my  desert 

Unmeritable  shuns  your  high  request.  —  Walker  would  read 
shames  instead  of  shuns.  As  in  the  old  copies  the  word"  is  spelt 
shunnes,  it  might  easily  be  a  misprint  for  shames.     But  shuns  yields  an 


CRITICAL    NOTES.  213 

apt  and  forcible  sense  ;   though  the  proposed  change  seems  well  worth 
considering. 

P.  141.    /  ant  not  made  of  stone.  —  The   old  copies  have  stones; 
another  clear  instance  of  a  plural  misprinted  for  a  singular. 


Act  iv.,  Scene  i. 

P.  143.   Now,  for  my  life,  she's  wandering  to  the  Tower, 

On  pure  heart's  love,  to  greet  the  tender  Princes.  — These  lines 
are  not  in  the  quartos,  and  the  folio  has  "  the  tender  Prince."  But 
Anne  herself  says  a  little  after,  that  she  is  going  to  the  Tower,  "  To 
gratulate  the  gentle  Princes  there."     The  correction  is  Theobald's. 

Act  iv.,  Scene  4. 

P.  157.  When  didst  Thou  sleep  while  such  a  deed  was  done? — In- 
stead of  while,  the  old  text  repeats  when  ;  probably  by  accident.  The 
correction  is  Lettsom's. 

P.  158.    I  had  an  Edward,  till  a  Richard kill' 'd him  ; 

I  had  a  Harry,  till  a  Richard  kilPd  him.  —  So  the  Cambridge 
Editors.  In  the  second  line,  the  quartos  have  Richard  instead  of 
Harry,  and  the  folio  substitutes  husband  for  Richard.  A  little  before, 
Margaret  says,  "When  holy  Harry  died,"  and  the  Duchess,  a  little 
after,  "  O  Harry's  wife,  triumph  not  in  my  woes !  " 

P.  158.    That  foul  defacer  of  God's  handiwork  ; 

That  excellent  grand  tyrant  of  the  Earth, 

That  reigns  in  galled  eyes  of  zveepiitg  sotds.  —  The  last  two  of 
these  line's  are  not  in  the  quartos,  and  the  folio  has  them  transposed. 
An  unquestionable  error,  which  was  corrected  by  Capell. 

P.  161.    For  joyful  mother,  one  that  wails  the  name  ; 
For  queen,  a  very  caitiff  crown'd  with  care  ; 
For  one  being  sued-to,  one  that  humbly  sues  ; 
For  one  commanding  all,  obey'd  of  none  ; 
For  one  that  scorn'd  at  me,  now  scorn'd  of  me : 


214  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

Thus  hath  the  course  of  justice  zvheeV  d  about.  —  So  the  quartos, 
which  are  followed  by  Capell,  Staunton,  and  Dyce.  The  folio  has,  in- 
stead of  the  lines  in  Roman  type,  the  following : 

For  one  being  sued  too,  one  that  humbly  sues : 
For  Queene,  a  very  Caytiffe,  crown'd  with  care: 
For  she  that  scorn'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. 

P.  1 68.  Even  I :  what  think  you  of  it,  madam  ?  —  Such  is  the  read- 
ing of  the  quartos,  except  that  they  have  "/  even  I."  The  folio  has 
"  Even  so  :  How  thinke  you  of  it  ?  " 

P.  1 68.    Send  to  her,  by  the  man  that  slezv  her  brothers, 

A  pair  of  bleeding  hearts  ;  thereon  engraved 

Edward  and  York. — The  old  copies  have  "thereon  ingrave." 
Collier's  second  folio  has  " thereon  engraven"  which  gives  the  same 
sense.  I  prefer  engraved,  because  we  have  very  frequent  instances  of 
final  d  and  final  e  confounded. 

P.  1 68.  The  purple  sap  from  her  sweet  brothers'  bodies.  —  This  line 
is  not  in  the  quartos,  and  the  folio  has  body  instead  of  bodies, 

P.  168.  Nay,  then  indeed  she  cannot  choose  but  love  thee.  —  This  line 
also  is  wanting  in  the  quartos,  and  the  folio  has  hate  instead  of  love, 
thus  giving  a  sense  not  at  all  suited  to  the  context.  The  correction  is 
Tyrwhitt's. 

P.  169.  Advantaging  their loan  with  interest.  —  Not  in  the  quartos. 
The  folio  has  Love  instead  of  loan.     Corrected  by  Theobald. 

P.  171.  Say,  I,  her  sovereign,  am  her  subject  now.  — So  Pope.  The 
quartos  have  love,  the  folio  low,  instead  of  now. 

P.  1 72.  The  unity  the  King  thy  brother  made.  —  So  the  seventh 
quarto.  The  earlier  quartos  have  "  the  King  my  brother  made,"  —  a 
palpable  error,  for  which  the  folio  substituted  "  the  King  my  husband 
made." 


CRITICAL    NOTES. 


215 


P.  1 72.   As  I  intend  to  prosper  and  repent, 
So  thrive  I  in  my  dangerous  affairs 

Of  hostile  arms.  —  So  the  folio.  The  quartos  have  attempt  in- 
stead of  affairs.  I  prefer  the  latter,  because  it  seems  more  in  keeping 
with  the  idea  of  hostile  arms  used  defensively. 

P.  173.  And  he  not  peevish-fond  in  great  designs.  —  The  quartos 
have  "  be  not  peevish,  fond"  ;  the  folio,  "  be  riot  peevish  found."  See 
foot-note  36. 

Act  v.,  Scene  2. 

P.  181.    The  wretched,  bloody,  and  usurping  boar, 

That  spoils  your  stimmer  fields  and  fruitful  vines, 
Stvills  your  warm  blood  like  wash,  and  makes  his  trough 
In  your  embowell'd  bosoms,  &c.  —  So  Capell.  The  old  copies 
have  spoiVd  instead  of  spoils.  Shakespeare  has  indeed  other  like  in- 
stances of  abrupt  change  of  tense,  but  here  the  change  makes  a  bad 
hitch  in  the  sense.  —  Some  have  stumbled  at  the  word  wretched  \n  the 
first  of  these  lines.  Collier's  second  folio  substitutes  reckless,  and 
Walker  pronounces  wretched  "palpably  wrong."  But  wretched,  I 
think,  may  very  well  bear  the  sense  of  hateful  or  cursed,  or  nearly  that ; 
and  so  the  Poet  elsewhere  uses  it ;  as  in  Othello,  v.  1,  where  Roderigo', 
on  receiving  his  death-wound  from  Iago,  exclaims,  "  O  wretched 
villain !  " 

Act  v.,  Scene  3. 
P.  184.   K.Rich.    What  is 7  o'clock? 

Cate.  It's  supper-time,  my  lord ; 

It's  nine  o'clock.  —  So  the  folio.  The  quartos  have  sixe  instead 
of  nine.  Six  o'clock  disorders  the  time  of  the  scene;  for  Richmond 
has  before  said  the  "  weary  Sun  hath  made  a  golden  set,"  and  at  that 
season,  August,  the  Sun  did  not  set  till  after  seven.  We  are  not  to 
suppose,  though,  that  nine  o'clock  was  the  usual  supper-time  at  that 
period  :  on  the  contrary,  Harrison  tells  us  in  the  Preface  to  Holinshed, 
"The  nobilitie,  gentrie,  and  students  ordinarilie  go  to  dinner  at  eleven 
before  noone,  and  to  supper  at  five,  or  betweene  five  and  six,  at  after- 
noone."  Verplanck  remarks  upon  the  matter  thus:  "It  seems,  then, 
that  the  Poet,  perceiving  that  the  conduct  of  the  scene  required  a  later 


2l6  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

hour,  and  wishing  to  preserve  the  incident  of  Richard's  refusing  to  sup, 
altered  the  time  to  what,  though  not  the  common  supper  hour,  might 
well  be  that  of  an  army,  which  had  just  encamped,  after^a  march." 

P.  184.  I  will  not  sup  to-night.  — 

What,  is  my  beaver  easier  than  it  was  ?  —  So  Pope,  Hanmer, 
and  Capell.  Between  these  two  lines,  the  old  text  has  the  hemistich, 
"  Give  me  some  ink  and  paper,"  —  the  same  words  that  Richmond  has 
used  a  little  before.  Here  the  words  are  at  least  useless,  as  Richard 
says,  a  little  after,  "Is  ink  and  paper  ready  ?"  How  the  words  got 
repeated  here,  is  not  easy  to  say :  Capell  thinks  the  printers  put 
them  in  by  mistake,  "  from  having  their  eye  caught  by  a  line  opposite." 

P.  186.  Well,  set  it  down.  —  Is  ink  and  paper  ready?  —  The  old 
text  is  without  the  word  Well,  thus  making  bad  work  with  the  metre 
of  the  line.  Pope  mended  the  breach  by  inserting  There  ;  Capell,  by 
inserting  So. 

P.  188.    Harry,  that  prophesied  thou  shouldst  be  king, 

Doth  comfort  thee  in  sleep  :  live  thou,  and  flourish  ! — So  Rowe 
and  Collier's  second  folio.     The  old  text  omits  thou  in  the  second  line. 

P.  189.  let  fall  thy  pointless  lance:  despair,  and  die! — So  Col- 
lier's second  folio.  The  old  text  lacks  pointless.  Some  epithet  is 
plainly  needful  here.     Capell  inserted  hurtless. 

P.  189.  Think  on  lord  Hastings  :  so  despair,  and  die  ! — So  Col- 
lier's second  folio.  The  old  text  lacks  so.  Pope  completed  the  verse 
by  inserting  and. 

P.  190.    To-morrow  in  the  battle  think  on  me, 

And  fall  thy  edgeless  sword  :  despair,  and  die  !  —  Here  Col- 
lier's second  folio  has  powerless  arm  for  edgeless  szvord.  Dyce  thinks 
the  latter  is  "  an  accidental  repetition  from  the  speech  of  Clarence's 
ghost." 

P.  191.    Then  fly.      What,  from  myself  ?     Great  reason  why, — 

Lest  I  revenge  myself  tipon  myself  —  The  old  copies  have  the 


CRITICAL    NOTES.  21J 

second  line  thus:  "Lest  I  revenge.  What?  my  Selfe  upon  my 
Selfe  ? "  Here  What  evidently  crept  in  by  mistake  from  the  line 
above. 

P.  192.   K.  Rich.  O  Ratcliff,  I  fear,  I  fear! 

Methought  the  souls,  of  all  that  I  had  murder 'd 
Came  to  my  tent ;  and  every  one  did  threat 
To-morrow' 's  vengeance  on  the  head  of  Richard. 

Rat.  Nay,  good  my  lord,  be  not  afraid  of  shadows.  —  In  the 
old  copies,  the  last  three  lines  of  Richard's  speech  are  placed  at  the 
close  of  Richard's  soliloquy,  before  the  entrance  of  Ratcliff.  With  this 
arrangement,  there  is  no  apparent  ground  or  reason  for  Ratcliff's 
saying,  "  be  not  afraid  of  shadows."  The  transposition  was  proposed 
by  Mason. 

P.  193.    Methought  their  souls,  whose  bodies  Richard  murdered, 

Came  to  my  tent,  and  cried,  On  !  victory  !  —  So  Warburton. 
The  old  copies  read  "  and  cried  on  Victory.''''  Pope  changed  this  to 
"  cried  out  Victory."  Shakespeare  has  the  phrase  to  cry  on  repeat- 
edly ;  but  in  most  other  cases  it  means  to  "  exclaim  against "  /  a 
meaning  evidently  unsuited  to  the  context  here. 

P.  194.  Sound,  drums  and  trumpets,  boldly,  cheerfully.  — So  Pope 
and  Collier's  second  folio.     The  old  text  has  "  boldly  and  cheerfully." 

P.  195.  They  thus  directed,  we  ourself  will  follow,  &c. —  So  Pope. 
The  old  copies  lack  ourself,  thus  leaving  a  gap  in  the  verse  where, 
evidently,  there  ought  to  be  none. 

P.  196.  Jockey  of  Norfolk,  be  not  too  bold.  —  The  old  copies  have 
"be  not  so  bold"  and  "be  not  to  bold."  The  Chronicles  suggest  the 
correction. 

P.  197.  To  desperate  ventures  and  assured  destruction.  — So  Capell. 
The  old  copies  have  adventures  instead  of  ventures. 

P.  197.  They  would  distrain  the  one,  distain  the  other.  —  So  Warburg- 
ton,  Walker,  and  Collier's  second  folio.     The  old  text  has  restraine 


21  8  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

instead  of  distrain.  The  former  word  was  never  used  in  a  sense 
suited  to  the  context,  while  Shakespeare  has  the  latter  twice  at  least  in 
just  the  sense  here  required.     See  foot-note  26. 

P.  198.  Off  with  his  son  George's  head!  —  Hanmer  printed  "Off 
instantly  with  his  son  George's  head,"  and  it  would  seem  that  some 
such  qualifying  word  is  fairly  required. 

Act  v.,  Scene  5. 

P.  199.  They  fight,  and  exeunt  fighting. — Instead  of  this,  the  old 
copies  have  "  they  fight,  Richard  is  slaine";  and  then  add  "Enter 
Richmond,  Derby  bearing  the  Crowne,"  &c.  Here  we  have  a  plain 
contradiction,  as  Stanley  is  made  to  enter,  and  bring  the  crown,  into 
the  same  place  where  Richard  lies  dead ;  which  of  course  implies  the 
slaying  of  him  to  have  taken  place  somewhere  else.  But  it  is  ad- 
mitted, I  believe,  on  all  hands,  that  the  stage-directions  in  the  old 
copies  are  often  badly  confused,  and  that,  in  many  instances  at  least, 
they  were  supplied  by  the  players.  Perhaps  it  was  the  custom  in 
Shakespeare's  time,  as  it  still  is,  to  have  Richard  killed  before  the 
audience.  —  I  must  add,  that  neither  the  fourth  nor  the  fifth  scene  of 
this  Act  is  so  marked  in  the  old  copies  ;  but  the  course  of  the  action 
fairly  implies  a  change  of  scene  in  both  places.  Such  changes  indeed 
were  often  left  to  the  imagination  of  the  audience  ;  owing,  probably, 
to  the  scant  arrangements  for  scene -shifting  on  the  old  stage.  Here 
the  marking  of  the  fifth  scene,  though  not  less  necessary  than  that  of 
the  fourth,  was  left  to  be  made  by  Dyce. 

P.  200.  But  tell  me  now,  is  young  George  Stanley  living?  —  So 
Dyce.  The  old  text  lacks  now.  Pope  filled  up  the  gap  in  the  metre 
by  inserting^/?/'.?/. 

P.  200.   All  this  divided  York  and  Lancaster, 

O,  now  let  Richmond  and  Elizabeth, 

The  true  succeeders  of  each  royal  House, — 

Divided  in  their  dire  division,  — 

By  God'' 's  fair  ordinance  conjoin  together  ! — In  the  old  copies, 
the  fourth  of  these  lines  is  printed  as  the  second.  This  arrangement 
makes  the  sense  very  obscure,  to  say  the  least,  and  has  caused  a  deal 


CRITICAL    NOTES.  219 

of  trouble  to  the  editors,  who,  it  seems,  cannot  yet  agree  about  either 
the  meaning  or  the  punctuation  of  the  passage.  Mr.  White  so  punctu- 
ates it  as  to  give  the  same  meaning  which  is  here  given,  except  in  the 
first  of  the  five  lines,  where  I  think  he  errs  in  taking  divided  as  a  verb, 
and  not  as  a  participle,  and  so  making  York  and  Lancaster  the  objects 
of  it ;  as  if  the  foregoing  particulars  were  the  cause,  and  not  the  con- 
sequences, of  the  quarrel.  The  sense  of  that  line  I  take  to  be,  "  All 
this  division  of  York  and  Lancaster."  And  I  have  little  doubt  that  the 
fourth  line  as  here  printed  got  transposed,  by  some  mistake,  into  the 
place  of  the  second;  an  error  which  those  who  are  at  all  practised  in 
the  mysteries  of  printing  can  easily  understand. 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


Hudson's  School  Shakespeare.  • 

Revised  and  Enlarged  Editions  of  twenty-three  Plays,  printed  from 
new  electrotype  plates.  Carefully  expurgated  for  use  in  Schools, 
Clubs,  and  Families,  with  Explanatory  Notes  at  the  bottom  of  the  page, 
and  Critical  Notes  at  the  end  of  each  volume.  By  H.  N.  Hudson, 
LL.D.,  late  Professor  of  English  Literature  in  Boston  University,  Edi- 
tor of  "  The  Harvard  Shakespeare"  and,  for  more  than  thirty  years, 
a  Teacher  uf  Shakespeare  in  the  Schools.  One  play  in  each  Volume. 
Square  i6mo.  Varying  in  size  from  128-253  pages.  Mailing  Price 
of  each,  Cloth,  60  cents;  Paper,  45  cents.  Introduction  Price,  Cloth, 
45  cents ;  Paper,  S3  cents.    Exchange,  Cloth,  38  cents ;  Paper,  26  cents. 

That  Dr.  Hudson  has  unusual  qualifications  for  annotating  a 
School  Shakespeare  will  appear  from  the  opinions  of  Shakespear- 
ians,  Professors  of  English  Literature,  and  Editors,  found  on  pages 
7-1 1  of  this  Catalogue,  from  which  we  quote  :  — 

"He  is  a  first-rate  teacher." 

"His  style  is  fresh,  original,  and  pungent.'1'' 

"His  notes  are  free  from  pedantry  and  dulness." 

"He  has  nobility  of  purpose  and  purity  of  heart." 

"He  keeps  his  readers  on  the  qui  vive  from  first  to  last.'1'' 

"He  eliminates  gross  language  without  marring  the  plot.'1'1 

"He  gives  results  without  annoying  students  with  processes.'''1 

"He  never  forgets  that  he  is  the  Editor  and  not  the  Author." 

"His  insight  is  fully  equal  to  the  best  English  or  German  critics." 

"He  justifies  the  saying  that  it  requires  genius  to  appreciate  and 

interpret  genius . " 

"He  has  so  caught  the  very  spirit  of  his  master  that  he  intuitively 

makes  the  best  choice  of  disputed  texts  and  throws  clearest  light  on 

obscure  passages . " 

GEIP  See  Editor's  English  in  Schools  (desc?-ibed  on  page  24)  for 
a  full  account  of  his  methods  of  teaching  Shakespeare  and  other 
English  Classics. 

Each  Play  is  introduced  by  a  discussion  of  its  history,  the  source 
of  the  plot,  the  political  situation,  a  critical  estimate  of  the  char- 
acters, and  general  characteristics,  with  much  other  matter  invalu- 
able to  the  student.  These  introductory  essays  are  transcripts 
from  the  Editor's  "Life,  Art,  and  Characters  of  Shakespeare,"  and 
contain  much  valuable  matter  not  found  in  any  other  school  edition. 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


The  series  ^consists  of  the  twenty -three  plays  enumerated 
below,  two  of  which  have  never  before  been  included  in  our 
school  series. 

Hamlet. 

The  Introduction  treats  of  :  The  History  of  the  Play,  —  Source 
of  the  Plot,  —  General  Characteristics  of  the  Play,  —  Political  Basir 
of  the  Action,  —  Hamlet's  Madness,  —  Hamlet's  alleged  Defect  of 
Will,  —  Why  Hamlet  does  not  strike  the  King, — Why  the  Poet 
does  not  make  Hamlet  strike,  —  Catching  the  King's  Conscience,  — 
Hamlet  seeing  the  King  at  Prayer,  —  Hamlet  with  his  Mother,  — 
How  the  Revenge  is  brought  about,  —  Hamlet's  Self-Disparagement, 
■ —  Pathos  of  Hamlet's  Situation,  —  General  Remarks  on  Hamlet, 
Laertes,  The  King,  The  Ghost,  Horatio,  Polonius,  Ophelia,  The 
Queen,  etc. 

Macbeth. 


The  Introduction  treats  of  :  The  History  of  the  Play,  —  Shake- 
speare in  Scotland,  —  Historic  Basis  of  the  Action,  —  The  Weird 
Sisters,  —  Character  of  Macbeth,  —  Macbeth  and  Banquo,  —  Char- 
acter of  Lady  Macbeth,  etc. 

Julius  Ccesar. 

The  Introduction  treats  of:  The  History  of  the  Play,  —  Date  of 
the  Writing,  —  Historical  Sources,  —  The  Play  rightly  Named, — 
The  Caesar  of  Shakespeare,  —  The  Caesar  of  History,  —  The  Brutus 
of  Shakespeare,  —  Brutus  and  Cassius,  —  Character  of  Portia,  — - 
Mark  Antony,  —  The  People,  etc. 

A  Midsummer- Night's  Dream. 

Contains  Editor's  essay  on  "English  in  Schools."  The  Intro- 
duction treats  of  :  The  Date  of  the  Composition,  —  Hardly  suited  to 
the  Stage,  —  Sources  of  the  Plot,  —  General  Characteristics,  —  The 
Fairy  People,  —  Supposed  Allusions,  —  The  Human  Mortals,  —  In- 
terplay of  the  Comic  and  the  Poetical,  —  The  Delineation  of  Theseus. 
—  The  Lovers,  —  Bottom  the  Weaver,  etc. 


GINN,   HEATH,   6-    CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


King  Lear. 

The  Introduction  treats  of  :  The  History  of  the  Play,  —  Sources 
of  the  Plot,  —  General  Characteristics  of  the  Play,  —  Goneril  and 
Regan,  —  Edmund,  —  The  Old  King, —  Lear's  Madness, —  Corde- 
lia, —  The  Fool,  —  Kent  and  Edgar,  etc. 

The  Merchant  of  Venice. 

Contains  Editor's  essay  on  "  English  in  Schools."  This  volume 
also  contains  The  Poet's  Life.  The  Introduction  treats  of  :  The 
History  of  the  Play,  —  Sources  of  the  Plot,  —  General  Characteristics, 

—  Outline  of  the  Story,  —  Antonio,  —  Antonio's  Friends,  —  Lorenzo 
and  Jessica,  —  Launcelot  Gobbo,  —  The  Heroine,  —  Shylock  the 
Jew,  etc. 

Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

Gives. a  sketch  of  The  Poet's  Life;  and  treats,  in  the  Intro- 
duction, of:  The  History  of  the  Play,  —  Sources  of  the  Plot, — 
General  Characteristics,  —  Action  and  Character  ;  —  outlines  the 
characters  of  Hero  and  Clandio,  of  John,  Dogberry,  Verges,  Bene- 
dick, and  Beatrice ;  —speaks  of  the  Wit  of  Benedick  and  Beatrice, 

—  and  concludes  with  remarks  upon  the  fitness  of  the  Play's  name. 

As  You  Like  It. 

Contains  Editor's  essay  on  "  How  to  use  Shakespeare  in  Schools." 
The  Introduction  treats  of:  Date  of  the  Composition,  —  Sources 
of  the  Plot,  —  Dramatic  Originality,  —  Characterization,  —  Orlando, 

—  The  Banished  Duke,  —  Touchstone,  —  Jaques  the  Juicy,  —  Ro- 
salind and  Celia,  —  General  Characteristics. 

Romeo  and  Juliet. 

The  introduction  has  for  subjects  :  Borrowed  Matter,  —  History 
of  the  Play,  — Additions  and  Variations,  —  Immaturity  of  the  Work- 
manship, —  General  Characteristics,  —  Social  Conditions,  —  Natural- 
Heartedness  of  the  Lovers,  —  Character  of  the  Hero,  —  Character 
of  the  Heroine,  —  Delineation  of  the  Nurse,  —  Mercutio, — Friar 
Laurence.,  •  -  The  Catastrophe,  etc. 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 


The  Tempest, 

The  Introduction  treats  of:  The  State  of  the  Text,  —  Date  of 
the  Writing,  —  Source  of  the  Plot,  —  Locality  of  the  Scene,  — Gen- 
eral Characteristics,  —  The  Hero,  —  Prospers  Prime  Minister, — 
Caliban,  —  The  Heroine,  —  The  Prince,  —  Antonio,  Sebastian,  Gon- 
zalo,  —  The  Comic  Matter,  —  Prof.  Dowden's  Comments,  etc. 

Richard  Second, 


The  Introduction  treats  of:  The  History  of  the  Play,  —  Source 
of  the  Plot,  —  Historical  Antecedents,  —  The  Political  Situation, — 
Secret  Purposes  of  the  King,  —  General  Characteristics  of  the  Play, 
—  Philosophic  Underpinning,  — Unfinished  Beginnings,  —  Charac- 
ter of  Richard,  —  Character  of  Bolingbroke. 

Henry  the  Fifth. 


The  Introduction  treats  of:  The  History  of  the  Play,  —  Historic 
Matter  of  the  Play,  —  Why  Falstaff  is  not  introduced,  —  The  Comic 
Characters,  — Characteristics  of  the  King,  —  His  Intercourse  with 
Falstaff,  —  His  moral  Complexion,  —  His  Frank  Human-Hearted- 
ness,  —  His  Wooing  of  Catharine,  —  His  Bearing  as  a  Christian,  — 
His  Civil  Administration,  etc. 

Henry  the  Eighth. 

The  Introduction  gives:  The  History  of  the  Play,  —  Historic 
Basis  of  the  Action,  — Authorship,  of  the  Play,  —  Ecclesiastical 
Leanings,  — Political  and  Social  Characteristics,  —  General  Notes 
of  Characterization,  —  Character  of  Wolsey,  —  Queen  Catharine,  — 
Delineation  of  Henry,  — Characteristics  of  Anne. 

Richard  Third. 

Gives  in  the  Introduction :  A  History  of  the  Play,  —  Time  of 
the  Writing,  —  Date  and  Period  of  the  Action, —Relation  of  the 
Play  to  History,  —  Source  of  the  Historic  Matter,  —  Growth  of 
Richard's  Character,  —  Richard's  Intellect, —  Alleged  Faults  of  the 
Delineation, —Richard's  Abnormal  Individuality,  —  Workings  of 
his  Conscience,  —  Character  of  Margaret,  —  Minor  Characters,  etc 


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