King Richard III E-Book

William Shakespeare

• Herausgeber: ShadowPOET
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Enter RICHARD, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, solus GLOUCESTER. 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 bruised 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 barbed 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

Leseprobe

KING RICHARD III

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Table of Contents

Dramatis Personae

ACT I.

SCENE I.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

SCENE IV.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

SCENE IV.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

SCENE IV

SCENE V.

SCENE VI.

SCENE VII.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

SCENE IV.

SCENE V.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

SCENE IV.

SCENE V.

Dramatis Personae

EDWARD THE FOURTH

Sons to the King

EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES afterwards KING EDWARD V

RICHARD, DUKE OF YORK,

Brothers to the King

GEORGE, DUKE OF CLARENCE,

RICHARD, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, afterwards KING RICHARD

III

A YOUNG SON OF CLARENCE (Edward, Earl of Warwick)HENRY, EARL OF RICHMOND, afterwards KING HENRY VIICARDINAL BOURCHIER, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY

THOMAS ROTHERHAM, ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

JOHN MORTON, BISHOP OF ELY

DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM

DUKE OF NORFOLK

EARL OF SURREY, his son

EARL RIVERS, brother to King Edward's QueenMARQUIS OF DORSET and LORD GREY, her sonsEARL OF OXFORD

LORD HASTINGS

LORD LOVEL

LORD STANLEY, called also EARL OF DERBY

SIR THOMAS VAUGHAN

SIR RICHARD RATCLIFF

SIR WILLIAM CATESBY

SIR JAMES TYRREL

SIR JAMES BLOUNT

SIR WALTER HERBERT

SIR WILLIAM BRANDON

SIR ROBERT BRAKENBURY, Lieutenant of the TowerCHRISTOPHER URSWICK, a priest

LORD MAYOR OF LONDON

SHERIFF OF WILTSHIRE

HASTINGS, a pursuivant

TRESSEL and BERKELEY, gentlemen attending on Lady AnneELIZABETH, Queen to King Edward IV

MARGARET, widow of King Henry VIDUCHESS OF YORK, mother to King Edward IV

LADY ANNE, widow of Edward, Prince of Wales, son to KingHenry VI; afterwards married to the Duke of GloucesterA YOUNG DAUGHTER OF CLARENCE (Margaret Plantagenet,

Countess of Salisbury)Ghosts, of Richard's victims

Lords, Gentlemen, and Attendants; Priest, Scrivener, Page,Bishops,

Aldermen, Citizens, Soldiers, Messengers, Murderers, Keeper SCENE: England

ACT I.

SCENE I.

London. A street

Enter RICHARD, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, solus GLOUCESTER. 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 bruised 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 barbed 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 determined 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 armed guard That waits upon your Grace?

CLARENCE. His Majesty,

Tend'ring my person's safety, hath appointed This conduct to convey me to th' Tower.

GLOUCESTER. Upon what cause?

CLARENCE. Because my name is George.

GLOUCESTER. 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-christ'ned 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 I am he.

These, as I learn, and such like toys as these Hath mov'd his Highness to commit me now.

GLOUCESTER. Why, this it is when men are rul'd by women:

'Tis not the King that sends you to the Tower; My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she That tempers him to this extremity.

Was it not she and that good man of worship,

Antony Woodville, her brother there, That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower, From whence this present day he is delivered?

We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe.

CLARENCE. By heaven, I think there is no man is secure But the Queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds That trudge betwixt the King and Mistress Shore.

Heard you not what an humble suppliant Lord Hastings was, for her delivery?

GLOUCESTER. Humbly complaining to her deity Got my Lord Chamberlain his liberty.

I'll tell you what-I think it is our way, If we will keep in favour with the King, To be her men and wear her livery:

The jealous o'er-worn widow, and herself, Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen, Are mighty gossips in our monarchy.

BRAKENBURY. I beseech your Graces both to pardon me: His Majesty hath straitly given in charge That no man shall have private conference, Of what degree soever, with your brother.

GLOUCESTER. Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury, You may partake of any thing we say: We speak no treason, man; we say the King Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous; We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,

A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; And that the Queen's kindred are made gentlefolks.

How say you, sir? Can you deny all this?

BRAKENBURY. With this, my lord, myself have naught to do.

GLOUCESTER. Naught to do with Mistress Shore! I tell thee, fellow,

He that doth naught with her, excepting one, Were best to do it secretly alone.

BRAKENBURY. What one, my lord?

GLOUCESTER. Her husband, knave! Wouldst thou betray me?

BRAKENBURY. I do beseech your Grace to pardon me, and withal

Forbear your conference with the noble Duke.

CLARENCE. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.

GLOUCESTER. We are the Queen's abjects and must obey.

Brother, farewell; I will unto the King; And whatsoe'er you will employ me in-Were it to call King Edward's widow sister-I will perform it to enfranchise you.

Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood Touches me deeper than you can imagine.

CLARENCE. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.

GLOUCESTER. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long; I will deliver or else lie for you.

Meantime, have patience.

CLARENCE. I must perforce. Farewell.

Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and guard GLOUCESTER. Go tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return.

Simple, plain Clarence, I do love thee so That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, If heaven will take the present at our hands.

But who comes here? The new-delivered Hastings?

Enter LORD HASTINGS

HASTINGS. Good time of day unto my gracious lord!

GLOUCESTER. As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain!

Well are you welcome to the open air.

How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?

HASTINGS. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must; But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks That were the cause of my imprisonment.

GLOUCESTER. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; For they that were your enemies are his, And have prevail'd as much on him as you.

HASTINGS. More pity that the eagles should be mew'd Whiles kites and buzzards prey at liberty.

GLOUCESTER. What news abroad?

HASTINGS. No news so bad abroad as this at home: The King is sickly, weak, and melancholy, And his physicians fear him mightily.

GLOUCESTER. Now, by Saint John, that news is bad indeed.

O, he hath kept an evil diet long

And overmuch consum'd his royal person!

'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.

Where is he? In his bed?

HASTINGS. He is.

GLOUCESTER. Go you before, and I will follow you.

Exit HASTINGS

He cannot live, I hope, and must not die Till George be pack'd with posthorse up to heaven.

I'll in to urge his hatred more to Clarence With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments; And, if I fail not in my deep intent, Clarence hath not another day to live; Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy, And leave the world for me to bustle in!

For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.

What though I kill'd her husband and her father?

The readiest way to make the wench amends Is to become her husband and her father; The which will I-not all so much for love As for another secret close intent

By marrying her which I must reach unto.

But yet I run before my horse to market.

Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns; When they are gone, then must I count my gains.

Exit

SCENE II.

London. Another street

Enter corpse of KING HENRY THE SIXTH, with halberds to guard it;

LADY ANNE being the mourner, attended by TRESSEL and BERKELEY

ANNE. Set down, set down your honourable load-If honour may be shrouded in a hearse; Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament

Th' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.

Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!

Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!

Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!

Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost To hear the lamentations of poor Anne, Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son, Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these wounds.

Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.

O, cursed be the hand that made these holes!

Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it!

Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence!

More direful hap betide that hated wretch That makes us wretched by the death of thee Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads, Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!

If ever he have child, abortive be it, Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, Whose ugly and unnatural aspect

May fright the hopeful mother at the view, And that be heir to his unhappiness!

If ever he have wife, let her be made

More miserable by the death of him Than I am made by my young lord and thee!

Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, Taken from Paul's to be interred there; And still as you are weary of this weight Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse.

[The bearers take up the coffin]

Enter GLOUCESTER

GLOUCESTER. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.

ANNE. What black magician conjures up this fiend To stop devoted charitable deeds?

GLOUCESTER. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys!

FIRST GENTLEMAN. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.

GLOUCESTER. Unmannerd dog! Stand thou, when I command.

Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.

[The bearers set down the coffin]

ANNE. What, do you tremble? Are you all afraid?

Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortal, And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.

Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!

Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone.

GLOUCESTER. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.

ANNE. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence and trouble us not; For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims.

If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.

O, gentlemen, see, see! Dead Henry's wounds Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh.

Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity, For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood From cold and empty veins where no blood dwells; Thy deeds inhuman and unnatural

Provokes this deluge most unnatural.

O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death!

O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his death!

Either, heav'n, with lightning strike the murd'rer dead; Or, earth, gape open wide and eat him quick, As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood, Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered.

GLOUCESTER. Lady, you know no rules of charity, Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.

ANNE. Villain, thou knowest nor law of God nor man: No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.

GLOUCESTER. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.

ANNE. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!

GLOUCESTER. More wonderful when angels are so angry.

Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, Of these supposed crimes to give me leave

By circumstance but to acquit myself.

ANNE. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, Of these known evils but to give me leave By circumstance to accuse thy cursed self.

GLOUCESTER. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have Some patient leisure to excuse myself.

ANNE. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make No excuse current but to hang thyself.

GLOUCESTER. By such despair I should accuse myself.

ANNE. And by despairing shalt thou stand excused For doing worthy vengeance on thyself That didst unworthy slaughter upon others.

GLOUCESTER. Say that I slew them not?

ANNE. Then say they were not slain.

But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.

GLOUCESTER. I did not kill your husband.

ANNE. Why, then he is alive.

GLOUCESTER. Nay, he is dead, and slain by Edward's hands.