Richard III, William Shakespeare [if you liked this book txt] 📗
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- Author: William Shakespeare
Book online «Richard III, William Shakespeare [if you liked this book txt] 📗». Author William Shakespeare
So cunning and so young is wonderful. Gloucester
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.
Marry, my uncle Clarence’ angry ghost:
My grandam told me he was murder’d there.
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. A Sennet. Exeunt all but Gloucester, Buckingham and Catesby.
Think you, my lord, this little prating York
Was not incensed by his subtle mother
To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously?
No doubt, no doubt: O, ’tis a parlous boy;
Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable:
He is all the mother’s, from the top to toe.
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?
He for his father’s sake so loves the prince,
That he will not be won to aught against him.
Well, then, no more but this: go, gentle Catesby,
And, as it were far off, sound thou Lord Hastings,
How doth he 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:
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.
Commend me to Lord William: tell him, Catesby,
His 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.
Now, my lord, what shall we do, if we perceive
Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots?
Chop off his head, man; somewhat we will do:
And, look, when I am king, claim thou of me
The earldom of Hereford, and the moveables
Whereof the king my brother stood possess’d.
And look to have it yielded with all willingness.
Come, let us sup betimes, that afterwards
We may digest our complots in some form. Exeunt.
Before Lord Hastings’ house.
Enter a Messenger. Messenger What, ho! my lord! Hastings Within. Who knocks at the door? Messenger A messenger from the Lord Stanley. Enter Lord Hastings. Hastings What is’t o’clock? Messenger Upon the stroke of four. Hastings Cannot thy master sleep these tedious nights? MessengerSo it should seem by that I have to say.
First, he commends him to your noble lordship.
And then he sends you word
He dreamt to-night the boar had razed 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 the 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.
Go, fellow, go, return unto thy lord;
Bid him not fear the separated councils:
His honour and myself are at the one,
And at the other is my servant Catesby;
Where nothing can proceed that toucheth us
Whereof I shall not have intelligence.
Tell him his fears are shallow, wanting instance:
And for his dreams, I wonder he is so fond
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 boar will use us kindly.
Good morrow, Catesby; you are early stirring:
What news, what news, in this our tottering state?
It is a reeling world, indeed, my lord;
And I believe ’twill never stand upright
Till Richard wear the garland of the realm.
I’ll have this crown of mine cut from my shoulders
Ere I will see the crown so foul misplaced.
But canst thou guess that he doth aim at it?
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.
Indeed, I am no mourner for that news,
Because they have been still mine enemies:
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.
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.
I tell thee, Catesby—
Ere a fortnight make me elder,
I’ll send some packing that yet think not on it.
’Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord,
When men
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