KING RICHARD III. William Shakespeare

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KING RICHARD III - William Shakespeare

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com’st in so bluntly?

       RATCLIFF

       Bad news, my lord: Morton is fled to Richmond;

       And Buckingham, back’d with the hardy Welshmen,

       Is in the field, and still his power increaseth.

       KING RICHARD

       Ely with Richmond troubles me more near

       Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength.

       Come,—I have learn’d that fearful commenting

       Is leaden servitor to dull delay;

       Delay leads impotent and snail-pac’d beggary:

       Then fiery expedition be my wing,

       Jove’s Mercury, and herald for a king!

       Go, muster men: my counsel is my shield;

       We must be brief when traitors brave the field.

       [Exeunt.]

      SCENE IV. London. Before the Palace

       [Enter QUEEN MARGARET.]

       QUEEN MARGARET

       So, now prosperity begins to mellow,

       And drop into the rotten mouth of death.

       Here in these confines slily have I lurk’d

       To watch the waning of mine enemies.

       A dire induction am I witness to,

       And will to France; hoping the consequence

       Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.—

       Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret: who comes here?

       [Retires.]

       [Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and the DUCHESS OF YORK.]

       QUEEN ELIZABETH

       Ah, my poor princes! ah, my tender babes!

       My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets!

       If yet your gentle souls fly in the air

       And be not fix’d in doom perpetual,

       Hover about me with your airy wings

       And hear your mother’s lamentation!

       QUEEN MARGARET

       Hover about her; say that right for right

       Hath dimm’d your infant morn to agèd night.

       DUCHESS

       So many miseries have craz’d my voice

       That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute.—

       Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?

       QUEEN MARGARET

       Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet,

       Edward for Edward pays a dying debt.

       QUEEN ELIZABETH

       Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs,

       And throw them in the entrails of the wolf?

       When didst Thou sleep when such a deed was done?

       QUEEN MARGARET

       When holy Harry died, and my sweet son.

       DUCHESS

       Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal living ghost,

       Woe’s scene, world’s shame, grave’s due by life usurp’d,

       Brief abstract and recórd of tedious days,

       Rest thy unrest on England’s lawful earth,

       [Sitting down.]

       Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood.

       QUEEN ELIZABETH

       Ah, that thou wouldst as soon afford a grave

       As thou canst yield a melancholy seat!

       Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here.

       Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but we?

       [Sitting down by her.]

       QUEEN MARGARET

       [Coming forward.]

       If ancient sorrow be most reverent,

       Give mine the benefit of seniory,

       And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.

       If sorrow can admit society,

       [Sitting down with them.]

       Tell o’er your woes again by viewing mine:—

       I had an Edward, till a Richard kill’d him;

       I had a Henry, till a Richard kill’d him:

       Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill’d him;

       Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard kill’d him.

       DUCHESS

       I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him;

       I had a Rutland too, thou holp’st to kill him.

       QUEEN MARGARET

       Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard kill’d him.

       From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept

       A hellhound that doth hunt us all to death:

       That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes,

       To worry lambs and lap their gentle blood;

       That foul defacer of God’s handiwork;

       That excellent grand tyrant of the earth,

       That reigns in gallèd eyes of weeping souls,—

       Thy womb let loose to chase us to our graves.—

       O upright, just, and true-disposing God,

       How do I thank Thee that this carnal cur

       Preys on the issue of his mother’s body,

       And makes her pew-fellow with others’ moan!

       DUCHESS

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