« 上一頁繼續 »
Ah, who hath any cause to mourn, but we?
come, That I should wish for thee to help me curse That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad. Q, JMar. 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 |. index" of a direful pageant, One heav'd a high, to be hurl’d down below: A mother only mock'd with two fair babes; A dream of what thou wast; a garish flag, To be the aim of every dangerous shot; A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble; A queen injest, only to fill the scene. Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers? Where be thy two sons? wherein dost thoujoy? Who sues, and Aneel, and says—God save the ueen t Where bo. bending peers that flatter'd thee? Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee? Decline all this, and see what now thou art. For happy wife, a most distressed widow;
For joyful mother, one that wails the name:
chance,— These English woes shall make mesmile in France . Eliz. Othouwell skill'd incurses, stay a while, And teach me how to curse mine enemies. Q. * Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the ay; Compare ...i happiness with living wo; Think that thy babes were fairer than they were, And he, that slew them, fouler than he is: Bettering thy loss makes the bad causer worse; Revolving this will teach thee how to curse. Q. Eliz. My words are dull, O, quicken them with thine! Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and ierce like mine. #: Q. Mar. Duch. Why should calamity be full of words? Q. Eliz. Windy attorneys to their client woes, Airy succeeders of intestate joys, Poor breathing orators of miseries' Let them have scope; though what they do impart Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart. Duch. If so, then be not tongue-ty'd: 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. Hid'st thouthat forehead with a golden crown, Where should be branded, if that right were right, The slaughter of the prince that ow'do that crown, And the dire death of my poor sons, and brothers? Tell me, thouvillain-slave, where are my children? Duch. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother Clarence 2 And little Ned Plantagenet, his son? Q. Eli, where is the gentle Rivers, Waughan,
rey : Duch. Wi. 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. Alarums.
Either be patient, and entreat me fair,
Duch. Art thou my son?
(4) Indexes were anciently placed at the be
inning of books. *"...#. (6) Owned.
Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience. K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your condition, That cannot brook the accent of reproof. Duch. O, let me speak. K. Rich. Do, then; but I'll not hear. 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 staid 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,” thouknow'st it well, Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell. A grievous burden was thy birth to me; Tetchy" and wayward was thy infancy; Thy school-days, frightful, desperate, wild, and fu
rious; Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and venturous: Thy age confirm’d, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred: What comfortable hour canst thou name, That ever grac'd me in thy company? K. Rich. 'Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that call'd your grace To breakfast once, forth of my company. If I be so disgracious in your sight, Let me march on, and not offend you, madam.— Strike up the drum. Duch. I pr’ythee, hear me speak. K. Rich. You speak too bitterly. F Duch. I the ear me a word; or I shall nevers to thee again. K. Rich. So. peak aga Duch. Either thou wilt 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. Therefore, take with thee my most heavy curse, Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more, Than all the cómplete 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 o Eacit. Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse Abides in me; I say amen to her. [Going. K. Rich. Stay, madam, I must speak a word with
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 . not to hit their lives.
K. Rich. You have a daughter call’d—Elizabeth, Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.
3. Eliz. And must she die for this? O, lether live, And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty; Stander myself, as false to Edward's bed; Throw over her the veil of infamy: So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter,
K. Rich. Lo, at their births d stars were posite. goo op
Q. Eliz. No, to their lives bad friends were con
blunt, Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart, To revel in the entrails of my lambs. But that stills 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 rest, Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom. K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprize, And dangerous success of bloody wars, As I intend more good to you and yours, Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd' Q. Eliz. What good is cover'd with the face of heaven, To be discover'd, that can do me #. K. Rich. The advancement of your children, gentle lady. Q. Eliz. § to some scaffold, there to lose their heads?
K. Rich. No, to the dignity and height of fortune, The high imperial type of this earth's glory." Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrows with report of it; Tell me, what state, what dignity, what honour, Canst thou demises 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 thosew Which, thou o: 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 l
soul. K. Rich. What do you think? * Q. Eliz. That thou dost love my daughter, from thy soul: So, from thy soul's love, didstthou love her brothers; And, from my heart's love, I do thank thee for it. K. Rich. Be not so hasty to confound my mean
I will confess she was not Edward's daughter. K. Rich. Wrong not her birth, she is of royal blood. (1) Disposition.
(2) Cross. (3) Touchy, fretful. (4) Unavoidable.
(5) Constant. (6) A crown. (7) Bequeath.
Q. Eliz. How canst thou woo her?
K. Rich. That I would learn of you, As one being best acquainted with her humour.
Q. Eliz. And wilt thou learn of me?
K. Rich. Madam, with all my heart.
Q. Eliz. Send to her by the man that slew her
A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave,
K. Rich. You mock me, madam; this is not the
Even so: What think you
way To win your daughter. Q. Eliz. There is no other way; Unless thou could'st 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 have thee, o love with such a bloody spoil. K. Rich. Look, what is done cannot be now amended: Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, 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. If I have kill'd the issue of your womb, To quicken your increase, I will beget Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter. A grandam's name is little less in love, Than is the doting title of a mother; 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 Endur'd of her, for whom you bidiko sorrow. Your children were vexation to your youth, But mine shas 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: Theking, that calls your beauteous daughter—wife, Familiarly shall casl 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. Go then, my mother, to thy daughter, go; Make bold her bashful years with your experience; Prepare her ears to hear a wooer’s tale; Put in her tender heart the aspiring flame Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the princess
(1) Perhaps. (2) In the Levitical law, chap. xviii. 14.
With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys:
brother Would be her lord? Or shall I say, her uncle? Or, he that slew her brothers, and her uncles? Under what title shall I woo for thee, That God, the law, my honour, and her love, Can make seem pleasing to her tender years? K. Rich. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance. Q. Eliz. Which she shall purchase with still lasting war. K. Rich. Toll 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 title, ever, last? K. Rich. Sweetly inforce unto her fairlife's end. Q. Eliz. But how long fairly shall her sweetlife
last? K. Rich. As long as Heaven, and nature lengthens it. Q. Eliz. As long ashell, and Richard, likes of it. K. Rich. say, i, her sovereign, am her subject low
ow. Q. Eliz. But she, your subject, loaths such sovereignty. K. Rich. To eloquent in my behalf to her. Q. Eliz. An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. K. Rich. Then, in plain termstell her my loving tale. Q. Eliz. Plain, and not honest, is too harsh a style. K. Rich. Your reasons are tookhallow and too quick. Q. Eliz. O, no, my reasons are too deep and ead;— Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. K. Rich. Harp not on that string, madam; that
(3) The ensigns of the order of the Garter.
The unity, the king thy brother made,
Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age: #. tslive, whose children thou iotard, Old barren plants, to wail it with their age. Swear not by time to come: for that thou hast Misus’d ereus'd, by times ill-us'd o'erpast. K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and repent! So thrive I in my dangerous attempt Of hostile arms! myself myself confound ! Heaven, and fortune, bar me happy hours! Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy rest! He 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! 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, ...} 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; Not my deserts, but what I will deserve: Urge the necessity and state of times, And be not peevish! found in great designs. Q. Eliz. Shall I i.fof 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. But thou didst kill my children. R. Rio, But in your daughter's womb I bury in :
Where, in that nest of spicery,” they shall breed Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.
Q. Eliz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?
K. Rich. And be a happy mother by the deed.
Q. Eliz. I go.—Write to me very shortly, And you shall understand from me her mind.
K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss, and so
farewell... [Kissing her. Exit Q. Eliz.
Relenting fool, and shallow, changing—woman' How now * what news?
Enter Ratcliff; Catesby following.
Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast Rideth a puissant navy; to the shore Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, Unarm’d, and unresolv'd to beat them back: 'Tis thought, that Richmond is their admiral; And there they hull, expecting but the aid Of Buckingham, to welcome them ashore.
K. Rich. Some light-foot friend post to the duke
of Norfolk –
Ratcliff, thyself—or Catesby; where is he?
(1) Foolish. (2) The phoenix's nest.
Cate. Here, m lord. K. Rich. y good Catesby, fly to the duke. Cate. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. K. Rich. Ratcliff, come hither: Post to Salisbury; When thou com'st thither, Dull unmindful villam, [To Catesby. Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke 2 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 Th straight d h mak e test o an wer he can e, And . me suddenly at Salisbury. Cate. I go. [Erit. Rat. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury? K. Rich. Y. what would'st thou do there, before I go? Rat. Your highness told me, I should post before.
K. Rich. My mind is chang'd.—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. R. Rich. Heyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad :
What need'st thou run so many miles about,
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 would'st be gone to join with soi. gone to J I will not trust you, sir. Stan. You have no cause to hold my frien I never was, nor never will be, false.
Most mighty sovereign,
K. Rich. Well, go, muster men. But, hear you, leave behind Your son, George Stanley; look your heartbefirm, Or else his head's assurance is but frail. Stan. So deal with him, as I prove true to you. [Erit Stanley.
Enter a Messenger.
JMess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, As I by friends am well advértised, Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate, Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother, With many more confederates, are in arms.
Enter another Messenger.
2.Mess. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in arms; And every hour more competitors' Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong.
Enter another Messenger. 3 * My lord, the army of great Bucking
annK. Rich. Out on ye, owls! *; but songs of death? e 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 dispers'd and scatter'd; And he himself wander'd away alone, No man knows whither. K. Rich. O, I cry you 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 liege. Enter another Messenger. 4.Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel, and lord marquis
'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms.
K. Rich. March on, march on, since we are up
If not to fight with foreign enemies,
Cate. Myliege, the duke of o is taken, That is the best news; That the earl of Richmond Is, with a mighty power,” landed at Milford, Is colder news, but yet they must be told. Rich. Away, towards Salisbury; while we reason here, A royal battle might be won and lost:— Some one take order, Buckingham be brought To Salisbury;-the rest march on with me. [Ere.
SCENE V-4 room in Lord Stanley's house. Enter Stanley and Sir Christopher Urswick.”
Stan. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from rine :That, in the sty of this most bloodyboar,
(1) Associates. (2) Force. (3) Chaplain to the countess of Richmond.
Myson George Stanley is frank'd" up in hold;
to him; Tell him, the queen hath heartily consented He shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter. These letters will resolve him of my mind.
Grey, Holy king o and thy fair son Edward, Vaughan, and all that have miscarried By underhand corru foul injustice; #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 is my body's
o: This is the day, which, in king Edward's time, I wish'd might fall on me, when I was found False to his children, or his wife's allies: This is the day, wherein I wish'd to fall By the false faith of him whom most I trusted; This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul, Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs.” That high All-seer which I dallied with, 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 t with sorrow, Remember. Margaret was a prophetessCome, sirs, convey me to the block of shame; Wronghath but wrong, and blame the dueof blame. [Ereunt Buckingham, &c.