KING RICHARD

  I swear—

  QUEEN ELIZABETH By nothing, for this is no oath.

  Thy George, profaned, hath lost his holy honour;

  Thy garter, blemished, pawned his lordly virtue;

  Thy crown, usurped, disgraced his kingly glory.

  If something thou wouldst swear to be believed,

  Swear then by something that thou hast not wronged.

  KING RICHARD

  Then by mysetf—

  QUEEN ELIZABETH

  Thy self is self-misused.

  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 dishonoured.

  KING RICHARD

  Why then, by God—

  QUEEN ELIZABETH

  God’s wrong is most of all.

  If thou didst fear to break an oath with him,

  The unity the King my husband made

  Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers died.

  If thou hadst feared to break an oath by him,

  Th’imperial metal circling now thy head

  Had graced 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 the 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 slaughtered—

  Ungoverned youth, to wail it in their age.

  The parents live, whose children thou hast butchered—

  Old barren plants, to wail it with their age.

  Swear not by time to come, for that thou hast

  Misused ere used, by times ill-used o’erpast.

  KING RICHARD

  As I intend to prosper and repent,

  So thrive I in my dangerous affairs

  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 dear 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, good-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-fond 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 yourself’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 will breed

  Selves of themselves, to your recomfiture.

  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,

  He kisses her

  and so farewell—

  Exit Elizabeth

  Relenting fool, and shallow, changing woman.

  Enter Sir Richard Ratcliffe

  How now, what news?

  RATCLIFFE

  Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast

  Rideth a puissant navy. To our shores

  Throng many doubtful, hollow-hearted friends,

  Unarmed and unresolved, 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.

  Ratcliffe 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

  Ratcliffe, come hither. Post to Salisbury;

  When thou com‘st thither—(to Catesby) dull, unmindful villain,

  Why stay’st thou here, and goest 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

  RATCLIFFE

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

  KING RICHARD

  Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go?

  RATCLIFFE

  Your highness told me I should post before.

  KING RICHARD

  My mind is changed.

  Enter Lord Stanley

  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.

  Why need’st thou run so many mile about

  When thou mayst 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 him.

  White-livered renegade, what doth he there?

  STANLEY

  I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.

  KING RICHARD Well, as you guess?

  STANLEY

  Stirred up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Ely,

  He makes for England, here to claim the crown.

  KING RICHARD

  Is the chair empty? Is the sword unswayed?

  Is the King dead? The empire unpossessed?

  What heir of York is there alive but we?

  And who is England’s king but great York’s heir?

  Then tell me, what makes he upon the seas?

  STANLEY

  Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.

  KING RICHARD

  Unless for that he comes to be your liege,

  You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes.

  Thou wilt revolt and fly to him, I fear.

  STANLEY

  No, my good lord, therefore mistrust me not.

  KING RICHARD

  Where is thy power then? To beat him back,

  Where be thy tenants and thy followers?

  Are they not now upon the western shore,

  Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships?

  STANLEY

  No, my good lord, my friends are in the north.

  KING RICHARD

  Cold friends to me. What do they in the north,

  When they should serve their sovereign in the west?

  STANLEY

  They have not been commanded, mighty King.

  Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave,

  I’ll muster up my friends and meet your grace

  Where and what time your majesty shall please.

  KING RICHARD

  Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond.

  But I’ll not trust thee.

  STANLEY

  Most mighty sovereign,

  You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful.

  I never was, nor never will be, false.

  KING RICHARD

  Go then and muster men—but leave behind

  Your son George Stanley. Look your heart be firm,

  Or else his head’s assurance is but frail.

  STANLEY

  So deal with him as I prove true to you. Exit

  Enter a Messenger

  MESSENGER

  My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,

  As I by friends am well advertised,

  Sir Edward Courtenay and the haughty prelate,

  Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,

  With many more confederates are in arms.

  Enter another Messenger

  SECOND MESSENGER

  In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in arms,

  And every hour more competitors

  Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong.

  Enter another Messenger

  THIRD MESSENGER

  My lord, the army of great Buckingham—

  KING RICHARD

  Out on ye, owls! Nothing but songs of death?

  He striketh him

  There, take thou that, till thou bring better news.

  THIRD MESSENGER

  The news I have to tell your majesty

  Is that, by sudden flood and fall of water,

  Buckingham’s army is dispersed and scattered,

  And he himself wandered away alone,

  No man knows whither.

  KING RICHARD I cry thee mercy.—

  Ratcliffe, reward him for the blow I gave him.—

  Hath any well-advisèd friend proclaimed

  Reward to him that brings the traitor in?

  THIRD MESSENGER

  Such proclamation hath been made, my lord.

  Enter another Messenger

  FOURTH MESSENGER

  Sir Thomas Lovell and Lord Marquis Dorset—

  ‘Tis said, my liege—in Yorkshire are in arms.

  But this good comfort bring I to your highness:

  The Breton navy is dispersed by tempest.

  Richmond in Dorsetshire sent out a boat

  Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks

  If they were his assistants, yea or no?

  Who answered him they came from Buckingham

  Upon his party. He, mistrusting them,

  Hoist sail and made his course again for Bretagne.

  KING RICHARD

  March on, march on, since we are up in arms,

  If not to fight with foreign enemies,

  Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.

  Enter Catesby

  CATESBY

  My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken.

  That is the best news. That the Earl of Richmond

  Is with a mighty power landed at Milford

  Is colder tidings, yet they must be told.

  KING RICHARD

  Away, towards Salisbury! While we reason here,

  A royal battle might be won and lost.

  Someone take order Buckingham be brought

  To Salisbury. The rest march on with me.

  Flourish. Exeunt

  4.5 Enter Lord Stanley Earl of Derby and Sir Christopher, a priest

  STANLEY

  Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me:

  That in the sty of this most deadly boar

  My son George Stanley is franked up in hold.

  If I revolt, off goes young George’s head.

  The fear of that holds off my present aid.

  But tell me, where is princely Richmond now?

  SIR CHRISTOPHER

  At Pembroke, or at Ha’rfordwest in Wales.

  STANLEY

  What men of name resort to him?

  SIR CHRISTOPHER

  Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier,

  Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley,

  Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,

  And Rhys-ap-Thomas with a valiant crew,

  And many other of great name and worth—

  And towards London do they bend their power,

  If by the way they be not fought withal.

  STANLEY

  Well, hie thee to thy lord. Commend me to him.

  Tell him the Queen hath heartily consented

  He should espouse Elizabeth her daughter.

  My letter will resolve him of my mind.

  Farewell.

  Exeunt severally

  5.1 Enter the Duke of Buckingham with halberdiers, led by a Sheriff to execution

  BUCKINGHAM

  Will not King Richard let me speak with him?

  SHERIFF

  No, my good lord, therefore be patient.

  BUCKINGHAM

  Hastings, and Edward’s children, Gray and Rivers,

  Holy King Henry and thy fair son Edward,

  Vaughan, and all that have miscarried

  By underhand, corrupted, foul injustice:

  If that your moody, discontented souls

  Do through the clouds behold this present hour,

  Even for revenge mock my destruction.

  This is All-Souls’ day, fellow, is it not?

  SHERIFF It is.

  BUCKINGHAM

  Why then All-Souls’ day is my body’s doomsday.

  This is the day which, in King Edward’s time,

  I wished might fall on me, when I was found

  False to his children and his wife’s allies.

  This is the day wherein I wished to fall

  By the false faith of him whom most I trusted.

  This, this All-Souls’ day to my fearful soul

  Is the determined respite of my wrongs.

  That high all-seer which I dallied with

  Hath turned my feigned prayer on my head,

  And given in earnest what I begged in jest.

  Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men

  To turn their own points in their masters’ bosoms.

  Thus Margaret’s curse falls heavy on my neck.

  ‘When he’, quoth she, ‘shall split thy heart with sorrow,

  Remember Margaret was a prophetess.’

  Come lead me, officers, to the block of shame.

  Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.

  Exeunt

  5.2 Enter Henry Earl of Richmond with a letter, the Earl of Oxford, Sir James Blunt, Sir Walter Herbert, and others, with drum and colours

  HENRY EARL OF RICHMOND

  Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends,

  Bruised underneath the yoke of tyranny,

  Thus far into the bowels of the land

  Have we marched on without impediment,

  And here receive we from our father Stanley

  Lines of fair comfort and encouragement.

  The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar,

  That spoils your summer fields and fruitful vines,

  Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough

  In your inbowelled bosoms, this foul swine

  Lies now even in the centry of this isle,

  Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn.

  From Tamworth thither is but one day’s march.

  In God’s name, cheerly on, courageous friends,

  To reap the harvest of perpetual peace

  By this one bloody trial of sharp war.

  OXFORD

  Every man’s conscience is a thousand swords

  To fight against this guilty homicide.

  HERBERT

  I doubt not but his friends will turn to us.

  BLUNT

  He hath no friends but what are friends for fear,

  Which in his dearest need will fly from him.

  HENRY EARL OF RICHMOND

  All for our vantage. Then, in God’s name, march.

  True hope is swift, and flies with swallows’ wings;

  Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.

  Exeunt marching

  5.3 Enter King Richard in arms, with the Duke of Norfolk, Sir Richard Ratcliffe, ⌈Sir William Catesby, and others⌉

  KING RICHARD

  Here pitch our tent, even here in Bosworth field.

  Soldiers begin to pitch ⌈a tent⌉

  Why, how now, Catesby? Why look you so sad?

  ⌈CATESBY⌉

  My heart is ten times lighter than my looks.

  KING RICHARD

  My lord of Norfolk.

  NORFOLK

  Here, most gracious liege.

  KING RICHARD

  Norfolk, we must have knocks. Ha, must we not?

  NORFOLK

  We must both give and take, my loving lord.

  KING RICHARD

  Up with my tent! Here will I lie tonight.

  But where tomorrow? Well, all’s one for that.

  Who hath descried the number of the traitors?

  NORFOLK

  Six or seven thousand is their utmost power.

  KING RICHARD

  Why, our battalia trebles that account.

  Besides, the King’s name is a tower of strength,

  Which they upon the adverse faction want.

  Up with the tent! Come, noble gentlemen,

  Let us survey the vantage of the ground.

  Call for some men of sound direction.

  Let’s lack no discipline, make no delay—

  For, lords, tomorrow is a busy day.

  Exeunt ⌈at one door⌉

  5.4 Enter ⌈at another door⌉ Henry Earl of Richmond, Sir James Blunt, Sir William Brandon, ⌈the Earl of Oxford, Marquis Dorset, and others⌉

  HENRY EARL OF RICHMOND

  The weary sun hath made a golden set,

  And by the bright track of his fiery car

  Gives token of a goodly day tomorrow.

  Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard.

  The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment;