19 That taught his son the office of a fowl! But wherefore dost thou come ? is't for my life? 29 Glou. Think'st thou I am an executioner? K. Hen. A persecutor, I am sure, thou art : If murdering innocents be executing, Why, then thou art an executioner. Glou. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption. K. Hen. Hadst thou been kill'd when first thou didst presume Thou hadst not lived to kill a son of mine. 39 And many an orphan's water-standing eyeMen for their sons, wives for their husbands, And orphans for their parents' timeless deathShall rue the hour that ever thou wast born. The owl shriek'd at thy birth,-an evil sign; The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time; Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempest shook down trees; The raven rook'd her on the chimney's top, And chattering pies in dismal discords sung. Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope, 50 To wit, an indigested and deformed lump, To signify thou camest to bite the world: Glou. I'll hear no more: die, prophet, in thy speech: [Stabs him. For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd. K. Hen. Ay, and for much more slaughter after this. 9, God forgive my sins, and pardon thee! [Dies. 60 Glou. What, will the aspiring blood of Lan caster Sink in the ground? I thought it would have mounted. See how my sword weeps for the poor king's death! O, may such purple tears be alway shed From those that wish the downfall of our house! If any spark of life be yet remaining, Down, down to hell; and say I sent thee thither : [Stabs him again. I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear. Indeed, 'tis true that Henry told me of; For I have often heard my mother say 70 I came into the world with my legs forward : So, Let hell inake crook'd my mind to answer it. Be resident in men like one another But I will sort a pitchy day for thee; 91 SCENE VII. London. The palace. Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, QUEEN ELIZABETH, Clarence, GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, a Nurse with the young Prince, and Attendants. K. Edw. Once more we sit in England's royal throne, Re-purchased with the blood of enemies. Three Dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion And made the forest tremble when they roar'd. Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat And made our footstool of security. Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy. Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles and myself Have in our armors watch'd the winter's night, Went all afoot in summer's scalding heat, That thou mightst repossess the crown in peace; And of our labors thou shalt reap the gain. 20 Glou. [Aside] I'll blast his harvest, if your head were laid; For yet I am not look'd on in the world. Work thou the way,-and thou shalt execute. K. Edw. Clarence and Gloucester, love my lovely queen; And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both. Clar. The duty that I owe unto your majesty I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe. Q. Eliz. Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy brother, thanks. Glou. And, that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st, Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit. [Aside] To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his master, And cried all hail!' when as he meant all harm. K. Edw. Now am I seated as my soul delights Having my country's peace and brothers' loves. Clar. What will your grace have done with Reignier, her father, to the king of France And now what rests but that we spend the time With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows Such as befits the pleasure of the court? Sound drums and trumpets! farewell sour an noy! For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy. [Exeun KING RICHARD III. (WRITTEN IN 1593.) INTRODUCTION. This play, because among other alleged reasons it exhibits so much smaller a proportion of rhyme than Richard II., is held by some crities to be the later of the two in chronological order; bit here Shakespeare was working, though not in the presence, yet under the influence and in the HALLer of the great master of dramatic blank verse, Marlowe. Richard III. carries on with the highest energy, and we may suppose, after brief delay on Shakespeare's part, the subject of the fortules of the house of York from the point when it was dropped in 3 Hry VI. It would hardly be Psible that Shakespeare should subsequently continue to write in a manner so Marlowesque as that of Richard III., he was not yet in comedy or tragedy delivered from rhyme. What more natural than that he should pass in Richard II. to a manner perhaps inferior bat more his own, more varied, more subtle, and marked by finer if less forcible characterization? Richard III. can hardly be later in date than 1593. Shakespeare was indebted little, if at all, to the old play The True Tragedie of Richard III., and certainly not at all to Dr. Legge's Latin play upon the same subject. A highly popular subject with Elizabethan audiences this was-the fall of the Yorkist usurper, and the accession of the first Tudor king as champion of justice. Shakespeare's play was printed in quarto in seven editions between 1597 and 1650. His materials the dramatist found in the chronicles of Helinshed and Hall. The entire play may be said to be the exhibition of the one central character of Richard; all subordinate persons are created that he may wreak his will upon them. This is quite in the manner of Marlowe. Like Marlowe also is the fierce energy of the central character, unempered by moral restraints, the heaping up of violent deeds, the absence of all reserve or mystery in the characterization, the broad and bold touches, the demoniac force and intensity of the whole. There is something sublime and terrible in so great and fierce a human energy as that of Richard, concentrated within one withered and distorted body. This is the evil offspring and flower of the ong and cruel civil wars-this distorted creature, a hater and scorner of man, an absolute cynic, loveless and alone, disregarding all human bonds and human affections, yet full of intellect, of fire, of power. The accumulated crimes of civil war are at last atoned for, and the evil which culminates in Richard falls with Richard from its bad eminence. KING EDWARD the Fourth. DRAMATIS PERSONE. SIR WILLIAM CATESBY. SIR JAMES BLOUNT. SIR WALTER HERBERT. SIR ROBERT BRAKENBURY, Lieutenant of the CHRISTOPHER URSWICK, a priest. Another TRESSEL and BERKELEY, gentlemen attend- Lord Mayor of London. Sheriff of Wiltshire. LADY ANNE, widow of Edward Prince of Ghosts of those murdered by Richard III., SCENE: England. Enter RICHARD, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, solus. Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; 11 And now, instead of mounting barded steeds To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; 30 And that so lamely and unfashionable ence comes. 40 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, And, for my name of George begins with G, by women: 'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower, My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she That tempers him to this extremity. Was it not she and that good man of worship, Anthony Woodville, 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. 70 Clar. By heaven, I think there's no man is me; His majesty hath straitly given in charge That no man shall have private conference, Of what degree soever, with his brother. Glou Even so; an't please your worship You may partake of any thing we say : And that the queen's kindred are made gentl folks : How say you, sir? can you deny all this? Brak. With this, my lord, myself hay nought to do. Glou. Naught to do with Mistress Shore ! tell thee, fellow, He that doth naught with her, excepting one 1 Glou. Her husband, knave: wouldst th betray me? Brak. I beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal Forbear your conference with the noble duke. Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. Glou. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey. 110 Brother, farewell: I will unto the king; I will deliver you, or else lie for you : Clar. Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so, Enter LORD HASTINGS. Hast. Good time of day unto my gracious lord! Glou. As much unto my good lord chamberlain ! Well are you welcome to the open air. ment? But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks For they that were your enemies are his, 130 While kites and buzzards prey at liberty. Hast. No news so bad abroad as this at home; The king is sickly, weak and melancholy, Glou. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed. 0, he hath kept an evil diet long, And overmuch consumed his royal person: 140 "Tis very grievous to be thought upon. What, is he in his bed? Hast. He is. Glou. 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-horse up to heaven. I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence, Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life, load, Glou. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend, With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments; To stop devoted charitable deeds? |