The Life and Death of King Richard III, William Shakespeare [books to read for 13 year olds .TXT] 📗

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.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Be brief, lest that the process of thy kindness
Last longer telling than thy kindness' date.

KING RICHARD.
Then know, that from my soul I love thy daughter.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul.

KING RICHARD.
What do you think?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
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 I do thank thee for it.

KING RICHARD.
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.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Well, then, who dost thou mean shall be her king?

KING RICHARD.
Even he that makes her queen: who else should be?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
What, thou?

KING RICHARD.
I, even I: what think you of it, madam?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
How canst thou woo her?

KING RICHARD.
That would I learn of you,
As one being best acquainted with her humour.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
And wilt thou learn of me?

KING RICHARD.
Madam, with all my heart.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Send to her, by the man that slew her brothers,
A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave
"Edward" and "York." Then haply will she weep:
Therefore present to her, - as sometimes 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 wipe her weeping eyes withal.
If this inducement move her not to love,
Send her a letter of thy noble deeds;
Tell her thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence,
Her uncle Rivers; ay, and for her sake
Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne.

KING RICHARD.
You mock me, madam; this is not the way
To win your daughter.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
There is no other way;
Unless thou couldst put on some other shape,
And not be Richard that hath done all this.

KING RICHARD.
Say that I did all this for love of her?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Nay, then indeed she cannot choose but hate thee,
Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.

KING RICHARD.
Look, what is done cannot be now amended:
Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,
Which after-hours gives 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 doating 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 bid 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 wife,
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.
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
With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys:
And when this arm of mine hath chastised
The petty rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham,
Bound with triumphant garlands will I come,
And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed;
To whom I will retail my conquest won,
And she shall be sole victoress, Caesar's Caesar.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
What were I best to say? her father's 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?

KING RICHARD.
Infer fair England's peace by this alliance.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Which she shall purchase with still-lasting war.

KING RICHARD.
Tell her the king, that may command, entreats.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
That at her hands which the king's King forbids.

KING RICHARD.
Say she shall be a high and mighty queen.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
To wail the title, as her mother doth.

KING RICHARD.
Say I will love her everlastingly.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
But how long shall that title, "ever," last?

KING RICHARD.
Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
But how long fairly shall her sweet life last?

KING RICHARD.
As long as heaven and nature lengthens it.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
As long as hell and Richard likes of it.

KING RICHARD.
Say I, her sovereign, am her subject low.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
But she, your subject, loathes such sovereignty.

KING RICHARD.
Be eloquent in my behalf to her.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.

KING RICHARD.
Then plainly to her tell my loving tale.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Plain and not honest is too harsh a style.

KING RICHARD.
Your reasons are too shallow and too quick.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
O, no, my reasons are too deep and dead; -
Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves.

KING RICHARD.
Harp not on that string, madam; that is past.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Harp on it still shall I till heartstrings break.

KING RICHARD.
Now, by my George, my garter, and my crown, -

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third usurp'd.

KING RICHARD.
I swear, -

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
By nothing; for this is no oath:
Thy George, profan'd, hath lost his lordly honour;
Thy garter, blemish'd, pawn'd his knightly virtue;
Thy crown, usurp'd, disgrac'd his kingly glory.
If something thou wouldst swear to be believ'd,
Swear then by something that thou hast not wrong'd.

KING RICHARD.
Now, by the world, -

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
'Tis full of thy foul wrongs.

KING RICHARD.
My father's death, -

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Thy life hath that dishonour'd.

KING RICHARD.
Then, by myself, -

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Thy self is self-misus'd.

KING RICHARD.
Why, then, by God, -

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
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,
The imperial metal, circling now thy head,
Had grac'd 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?

KING RICHARD.
The time to come.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
That thou hast wronged in the time o'erpast;
For I myself have many tears to wash
Hereafter time, for time past wronged by thee.
The children live whose fathers thou hast slaughter'd,
Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age;
The parents live whose children thou hast butcher'd,
Old barren plants, to wail it with their age.
Swear not by time to come: for that thou hast
Misus'd ere used, by times ill-us'd o'erpast.

KING RICHARD.
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!
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!
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;
Not my deserts, but what I will deserve:
Urge the necessity and state of times,
And be not peevish found in great designs.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Shall I be tempted of the devil thus?

KING RICHARD.
Ay, if the devil tempt you to do good.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Shall I forget myself to be myself?

KING RICHARD.
Ay, if your self's remembrance wrong yourself.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Yet thou didst kill my children.

KING RICHARD.
But in your daughter's womb I bury them:
Where, in that nest of spicery, they shall breed
Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?

KING RICHARD.
And be a happy mother by the deed.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
I go. - Write to me very shortly,
And you shall understand from me her mind.

KING RICHARD.
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.]

How now! what news?

RATCLIFF.
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.

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

CATESBY.
Here, my good lord.

KING RICHARD.
Catesby, fly to the duke.

CATESBY.
I will my lord, with all convenient haste.

KING RICHARD.
Ratcliff, come hither: post to Salisbury:
When thou com'st thither, -
[To CATESBY.] Dull, unmindful villain,
Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke?

CATESBY.
First, mighty liege, tell me your highness' pleasure,
What from your grace I shall deliver to him.

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

CATESBY.
I go.

[Exit.]

RATCLIFF.
What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury?

KING RICHARD.
Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go?

RATCLIFF.
Your highness told me I should post before.

[Enter STANLEY.]

KING RICHARD.
My mind is chang'd. - Stanley, what news with you?

STANLEY.
None good, my liege, to please you with the hearing;
Nor none so bad but well may be reported.

KING RICHARD.
Hoyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad!
What need'st thou run so many miles about,
When thou mayest tell thy tale the nearest way?
Once more, what news?

STANLEY.
Richmond is on the seas.

KING RICHARD.
There let him sink, and be the seas on