KING RICHARD III. William Shakespeare

ACT I

       Table of Contents

      SCENE I. London. A street

       [Enter GLOSTER.]

       GLOSTER

       Now is the winter of our discontent

       Made glorious summer by this sun of York;

       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 bruisèd arms hung up for monuments;

       Our stern alarums chang’d to merry meetings,

       Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

       Grim-visag’d war hath smooth’d his wrinkled front;

       And now,—instead of mounting barbèd steeds

       To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,—

       He capers nimbly in a lady’s chamber

       To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

       But I,—that am not shap’d 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,

       Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,

       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 determinèd to prove a villain,

       And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

       Plots have I laid, inductions 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,—

       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 armèd guard

       That waits upon your grace?

       CLARENCE

       His majesty,

       Tendering my person’s safety, hath appointed

       This conduct to convey me to the Tower.

       GLOSTER

       Upon what cause?

       CLARENCE

       Because my name is George.

       GLOSTER

       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 should be new-christen’d in the Tower.

       But what’s the matter, Clarence? may I know?

       CLARENCE

       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 plucks the letter G,

       And says a wizard told him that by G

       His issue disinherited should be;

       And, for my name of George begins with G,

       It follows in his thought that

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