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Richard III - CD2

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But canst thou guess that he doth aim at it?
Aye, on my life...
and hopes to find you forward upon his party for the gain thereof.
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.
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.
God keep your lordship in that gracious mind.
But I shall laugh at this a twelvemonth hence...
that they which brought me in my master's hate...
I live to look upon their tragedy.
Well, Catesby...
ere a fortnight make me older...
I'll send some packing that yet not think on't.
'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord...
when men are unprepared and look not for it.
Monstrous, monstrous.
And so falls it out with Rivers...
and with Grey.
And so 'twill do with some men else...
who think themselves as safe as thou and I -
who, as thou know'st, are dear to princely Richard -
- [ Clock Chimes ] - And to Buckingham.
The princes both make high account of you.
For they account his head upon the Bridge.
I know they do, and I have well deserved it.
Come on, come on, where's your boar spear, man?
Fear you the boar and go so unprovided?
- My lord, good morrow. - Good morrow, Catesby.
You may jest on, but by the holy rood, the lords at Pomfret...
when they rode from London were jocund and supposed their states were sure...
and they indeed had no cause to mistrust.
And yet you see how soon the day o'ercast.
My lord, I hold my life as dear as yours...
and never in my days, I do protest...
was it so precious to me as 'tis now.
- Good morrow, mistress. - Good morrow, my lord.
Think you, but that I know our state secure...
I would be so triumphant as I am?
This sudden stab of rancor I misdoubt.
Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward.
But come, my lord. Shall we to the Tower?
Go you before. I'll follow presently.
Well met, my lord. I am glad to see Your Honor.
I thank thee, reverend sir, with all my heart.
I am in your debt for your last exercise.
Come the next Sabbath, and I will content you.
What, talking with a priest, Lord Chamberlain?
Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the priest.
Your worship hath no shriving work in hand.
Good faith, and when I met this holy man, the men you talk of came into my mind.
What, go you toward the Tower?
I do, my lord, but long I cannot stay there. I shall return before your lordship thence.
Nay, like enough, for I stay dinner there.
- And supper, too, although thou know'st it not. - Hmm?
- [ Buckingham ] Come, will you go? - I wait upon your lordship.
[ Buckingham Laughs ]
[ Bell Dinging ]
My lords, at once, the cause why we are met...
is to determine of the coronation.
- [ All ] Ah. - In God's name, say. When is the royal day?
Are all things fitting for that royal time?
They are and want but nomination.
Tomorrow, then, I guess a happy time.
Who knows the Lord Protector's mind herein?
Who is most inward with the noble duke?
Why, you, milord, methinks should soonest know his mind.
We know each other's faces.
For our hearts, he knows no more of mine than I of yours.
Nor I no more of his...
- than you of mine. - [ All Chuckle ]
Lord Hastings, you and he are near in love.
I thank His Grace, I know he loves me well.
But for his purpose in the coronation I have not sounded him...
nor he delivered his gracious pleasure any way therein.
But you, my noble lords, may name the time.
And in the duke's behalf I'll give my voice...
which I presume he'll take in gentle part.
- [ All Chuckle ] - [ Door Opens ]
Now in good time, here comes the duke himself.
My noble lords and cousins all, good morrow. [ Chuckling ]
I have been long a sleeper...
but I trust my absence doth neglect no great design...
which by my presence might have been concluded.
Had you not come upon your cue, my lord...
William Lord Hastings had now pronounced your part -
I mean, your voice - for crowning of the king.
[ Chuckles ] Than my Lord Hastings no man might be bolder.
- I thank Your Grace. - His lordship knows me well...
and loves me well.
Hmm.
Ah, the crowning of the king. My Lord Archbishop.
Milord?
When I was last in Lambeth, I saw good strawberries in your garden there.
I do beseech you send for some of them.
Marry, and will, my lord, with all my heart.
Cousin of Buckingham, a word with you.
Catesby hath sounded Hastings on our business...
and finds the testy gentleman so hot...
that he will lose his head ere give consent...
his master's son, as worshipful he terms it...
shall lose the royalty of England's throne.
When I am king...
claim thou of me the earldom of Hereford...
and all the movables...
whereof the king my brother was possessed, hmm?
I'll claim that promise at Your Grace's hands.
And look to have it yielded with all willingness.
[ Chuckles ]
Where is our Lord Protector?
I have sent for these strawberries.
We have not yet set down this day of triumph.
Tomorrow, in mine opinion, is too sudden...
for I myself am not so well provided as else I might be were the day prolonged.
His Grace looks cheerfully and smooth today.
There's some conceit or other likes him well...
when he doth bid good morrow with such a spirit.
I think there's never a man in Christendom...
that can lesser hide his love...
or hate than he...
for by his look straight shall you know his heart.
What of his heart perceived you in his face...
by any likelihood he showed today?
Marry, that with no man here he is offended...
for if he were, he would have shown it in his looks.
[ Door Opens ]
I pray you all, tell me what they deserve...
that do conspire my death...
with devilish plots of damned witchcraft...
and that have prevailed upon my body with their hellish charms?
The tender love I bear Your Grace, my lord...
makes me most forward in this noble presence to doom the offenders.
Whosoe'er they be, I say they have deserved death.
Then be your eyes the witness of their evil.
Look how I am bewitched!
Behold, mine arm is like a blasted sapling, withered up.
And this is Edward's wife, that monstrous witch...
consorted with that harlot strumpet Shore...
that by their witchcraft thus have marked me.
If they have done this thing, my gracious lord -
If!.
Thou protector of this damned strumpet...
talk'st thou to me of ifs?
Thou art a traitor!
Off with his head!
Now, by Saint Paul I swear, I shall not dine until I see the same.
Catesby, Ratcliffe, Lovel, see it done. The rest that love me...
rise...
and follow me!
I never looked for better at his hands...
after he once fell in with Mistress Shore.
Woe, woe for England.
Not a whit for me, for I, too fond, might have prevented this.
Stanley did dream the boar chopped off his head...
but I disdained it and did scorn to fly.
Three times today my footcloth horse did stumble...
and started when he looked upon the Tower...
as loath to bear me to the slaughterhouse.
Oh...
now I want the priest that spake to me.
Dispatch, my lord. The duke would be at dinner.
Make a short shrift. He longs to see your head.
Hmm.
The cat...
the rat...
and Lovel the dog...
rule all England under the hog.
Come, come, dispatch. 'Tis bootless to exclaim.
Hmm.
Come, lead me to the block, bear him my head.
They smile at me that shortly shall be dead.
[ Carriage Approaching ]
Well, well...
that was the sliest, sheltered traitor that ever lived.
Would you have imagined, my good Lord Mayor...
were't not, by great preservation...
we live to tell it you...
the subtle traitor this day had plotted in the council house...
to murder me and my good lord of Gloucester?
What, had he so?
So smooth he daubed his vice with show of virtue...
that, his apparent open guilt apart -
I mean, his conversation with Shore's wife -
his life was free from all suspicion.
Now fair befall you. He deserved his death.
And you, my good lords, both have well proceeded...
to warn false traitors from the like attempts.
I never looked for better at his hands after he once fell in with Mistress Shore.
Yet had not we determined he should die until your lordship came to see his end...
which now the loving haste of these our friends...
somewhat against our meaning, have prevented.
Because, my lord, we would have had you hear the traitor speak...
and timorously confess the manner and the purpose of his treason...
that you might well have signified the same unto the citizens...
who haply may misconstrue us in him and wail his death.
But, my good lord, Your Grace's word shall serve...
as well as I had seen and heard him speak.
And doubt you not but I'll acquaint our duteous citizens...
with all yourjust proceedings in this case.
[ Buckingham ] And to that end we wished your worship here...
to avoid the carping censures of the world.
But since you come too late of our intents...
yet witness what we did intend.
And so, my lord, I will be with thee straight.
[ Man ] Come, all good citizens, draw near...
and to your good Lord Mayor...
lend generous ear.
[ All Chattering ]
[ Bell Dings ]
How now, how now? What say the citizens?
Now, by the Holy Mother of our Lord...
the citizens are mum...
say not a word.
- Touched you the bastardy of Edward's children? - I did...
with his contract with Mistress Shore...
and his contract by deputy in France -
the insatiate greediness of his desires...
and his enforcement of the city wives -
his tyranny for trifles -
his own bastardy, as being got...
your father then in France...
and his resemblance being not like the duke.
Withal I did infer your lineaments, being the right idea of your father...
both in your form...
and nobleness of mind -
laid open all your victories in Scotland...
your discipline in war, wisdom in peace...
your bounty, virtues, fair humility-
indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose untouched...
or slightly handled in discourse.
And when my oratory drew toward end...
I bade them that did love their country's good...
cry, ''God save Richard, England's royal king.''
- And did they so? - No, so God help me, they spake not a word.
But like dumb statues or breathing stones...
stared each on other and looked deadly pale.
Which when I saw, I reprehended them...
and asked the mayor what meant this willful silence.
His answer was, the people were not used to be spoke to but by the recorder.
Then he was urged to tell my tale again -
''Thus saith the duke, thus hath the duke inferred'' -
but nothing spoke in warrant from himself.
When he had done, some followers of mine own...
at lower end of the hall, hurled up their caps...
and some 1 0 voices cried, ''God save King Richard!''
And thus I took the vantage of those few...
''Thanks, gentle citizens and friends,'' quoth I...
''This general applause and cheerful shout...
argues your wisdom and your love to Richard.''
And even here brake off and came away.
What tongueless blocks were they!
Would they not speak?
Will not the mayor then and his brethren come?
The mayor is here at hand. Pretend some fear.
Be not you spoke with but by mighty suit.
Play the maid's part - say no, but take it.
Fear me not. And if you plead as well for them...
as I can say nay to thee for myself...
no doubt we bring it to a happy issue.
You shall see what I can do. Get you up to the leads.
[ Crowd Chattering ]
Now, my Lord Mayor, I dance attendance here.
I think His Grace will not be spoke withal.
Now, Catesby, what says your lord to my request?
He doth entreat Your Grace, my noble lord...
to visit him tomorrow or next day.
He is within, with two right reverend fathers...
divinely bent to meditation...
and in no worldly suit should he be moved...
to draw him from his holy exercise.
Return, good Catesby, to the gracious duke.
Tell him, myself, the mayor and citizens...
in deep designs in matter of great moment...
no less importing than our general good...
are come to have some conference with His Grace.
- ''General good.'' - I'll signify so much unto him straight.
Ah, ha, my lord, this prince is not an Edward.
He is not lolling on a lewd love-bed...
but on his knees at meditation.
Not dallying with a brace of courtesans...
but meditating with two deep divines.
- Two deep divines. - Not sleeping, to engross his idle body...
but praying, to enrich his watchful soul.
Happy were England would this gracious prince...
take on himself the sovereignty thereof.
But sure, I fear we shall not win him to it.
Marry, God defend His Grace should say us nay.
I fear he will. Here Catesby comes again.
Now, Catesby, what says His Grace?
He wonders to what end you have assembled...
such troops of citizens to come to him.
His Grace not being warned thereof before...
he fears, my lord, you mean no good to him.
- Oh. - Sorry I am my noble cousin should suspect me...
that I mean no good to him.
By heaven, we come to him in perfect love.
And so once more return and tell His Grace.
When holy and devout religious men are at their beads...
- 'tis much to draw them thence... -[ Men Chanting In Latin ]
so sweet is zealous contemplation.
See where His Grace comes? Between two clergymen.
[ Crowd ] Ahh!
- [ Latin Continues ] - Two props of virtue for a Christian prince...
to stay him from the fall of vanity.
And see, a book of prayer in his hand...
true ornament to know a holy man.
Famous Plantagenet, most gracious prince...
lend favorable ear to our request...
and pardon us the interruption...
of thy devotion and right Christian zeal.
My lord, there needs no such apology.
I do perceive I have done some offense...
which seems disgracious in the city's eye...
and that you come to reprehend my ignorance.
You have, my lord. Would it would please Your Grace...
on our entreaties, to amend your fault.
Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land?
Know then, it is your fault that you resign...
the supreme seat, the throne majestical...
the sceptered office of your ancestors...
to the corruption of a blemished stock.
The which to cure we heartily solicit your gracious self...
to take on you the charge and kingly government of this your land.
Not as protector, steward, substitute...
or lowly factor for another's gain...
but as successively from blood to blood...
your right ofbirth, your heritage,your own.
For this, consorted with the citizens...
your very worshipful and loving friends...
and by their vehement instigation -
- Hurrah! - [ All ] Hurrah!
In this just cause come I to move Your Grace.
I cannot tell if to depart in silence...
or bitterly to speak in your reproof.
Your love deserves my thanks...
but my desert unmeritable shuns your high request.
But God be thanked, there is no need of me.
The royal tree hath left us royal fruit...
which, mellowed with the stealing hours of time...
will well become the seat of majesty...
and make, no doubt, us happy by his reign.
On him I lay that you would lay on me -
the right and fortune of his happy stars...
which God defend that I should wring from him.
- [ Crowd Murmuring ] - My lord...
this argues conscience in Your Grace.
You say that Edward is your brother's son.
So say we too, but not by Edward's wife.
Then, good my lord, take to your royal self...
this proffered benefit of dignity.
[ Mayor] Do, good my lord. Your citizens entreat you.
[ Buckingham ] Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffered love.
[ Catesby ] Oh, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit.
I do beseech you, take it not amiss - I cannot nor I will not yield to you.
Yet whether you accept our suit or no...
your brother's son shall never reign our king...
but we will plant some other in the throne...
to the disgrace and downfall of your house.
And in this resolution here we leave you.
Come, citizens. 'Zounds! I'll entreat no more.
Oh, do not swear, my lord -
Call them again, sweet prince, accept their suit.
If you deny them, all the land will rue it.
Would you enforce me to a world of cares?
- Call them again. - Call them again!
Call them again!
[ All Chattering ]
[ Chattering Subsides ]
Cousin of Buckingham...
and sage, grave men...
since that you will buckle fortune on my back...
to bear her burthen, whether I will or no...
I must have patience to endure the load.
But God doth know, and you may partly see...
how far I am from the desire of this.
God bless Your Grace. We see it and will say it.
- [ All ] Aye. - Then I salute you with this royal title -
Long live Richard, England's worthy king!
[ All ] Long live Richard, England's worthy king!
Tomorrow may it please you to be crowned?
Even when you please, for you will have it so.
Tomorrow, then, we will attend Your Grace...
and so most joyfully we take our leave.
- [ All Cheering ] - Come, let us to our holy work again.
Farewell, my cousin. Farewell, gentle friends.
[ Bell Tolling ]
[ Bell Clangs ]
[ Clanging ]
[ Clanging Continues ]
[ Clanging Continues ]
[ Pealing ]
[ Pealing Continues ]
Come, madam, come.
You must straight to Westminster...
there to be crowned Richard's royal queen.
Oh, would to God that the inclusive verge...
of golden metal that must round my brow...
were red-hot steel, to sear me to the brain.
Anointed let me be with deadly venom...
and die ere men can say God save the queen.
Go, go, poor soul.
I envy not thy glory.
To feed my humor, wish thyself no harm.
No? Why?
When he that is my husband now...
came to me as I followed Edward's corse...
when scarce the blood was well washed from his hands...
which issued from my other angel husband...
within so small a time...
my woman's heart...
grossly grew captive to his honey words.
And never yet one hour in his bed...
did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep...
but have been wakened by his timorous dreams.
Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick...
and will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
Be of good cheer. Madam, how fares Your Grace?
Oh, Dorset, speak not to me, get thee gone.
Death and destruction dog thee at thy heels.
Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughterhouse...
lest thou increase the number of the dead.
Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.
Take all the swift advantage of the hours.
In Brittany, my stepson Earl of Richmond doth reside...
who with a jealous eye doth still observe the lawless actions of aspiring Gloucester.
If thou wilt outstrip death...
go cross the seas and live with Richmond from the reach of hell.
You shall have letters from me to my own son George on your behalf...
to meet you on the way.
Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.
Come, madam, come. I in all haste was sent.
And I with all unwillingness will go.
Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee.
Go thou to Richmond...
and good fortune guide thee.
Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee.
I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me.
Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes...
whom envy hath immured within your walls.
Rough cradle for such little pretty ones.
Rude ragged nurse...
old sullen playfellow for tender princes...
use my babies well.
So...
foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell.
God save King Richard.!
Long live King Richard!
May the king live forever!
Stand all apart!
Cousin of Buckingham. [ Chuckles ]
Give me thy hand.
My gracious sovereign.
Thus high, by thy advice and thy assistance...
is King Richard seated.
But shall we wear these glories for a day?
Or shall they live and we rejoice in them?
Still live they, and for ever let them last.
Buckingham, now do I play the touch, to try if thou be current gold indeed.
Thou know'st young Edward and his brother lives.
Think now what I would speak, hmm?
Say on, my loving lord.
- Why, Buckingham, I say, I would be king. - Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned lord.
[ Chuckles ] Am I king?
'Tis so...
but Edward lives.
True, noble prince.
Cousin, thou was not wont to be so dull.
''True, noble prince.'' Shall I be plain?
I wish the bastards dead, and I would have it suddenly performed.
What sayest thou now? Speak suddenly, be brief.
- Your Grace may do your pleasure. - Tut, tut, tut, thou art all ice...
thy kindness freezes.
Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?
Give me some little breath, some pause, dear lord...
before I positively speak in this.
I will resolve you herein presently.
High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect.
The king is angry. See, he gnaws his lip.
- Catesby. - My lord?
Knowest thou not any whom corrupting gold...
will tempt unto a close exploit of death?
I know a discontented gentleman whose humble means match not his haughty spirits.
Gold were as good as 20 orators and will, no doubt, tempt him to anything.
- What is his name? - His name, my lord, is Tyrrell.
I partly know the man. Go, call him hither.
The deep-revolving witty Buckingham...
no more shall be the neighbor to my counsels.
Hath he so long held out with me untired...
and stops he now for breath?
Well...
be it so.
How now, Lord Stanley?
What's the news?
The marquess of Dorset, as I hear, is fled...
to Richmond.
Come hither, Catesby.
Rumor it abroad that Anne, my wife...
is very grievous sick.
I will take order for her keeping close.
Look how thou dream'st. I say again...
give out that Anne my queen is sick and like to die. About it.
I must marry...
Brother Edward's daughter...
or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass.
Murder her brothers, and then marry her.
Familiar way of gain.
But I am in so far in blood...
that sin will pluck on sin.
Tear-falling pity...
dwells not in this eye.
My lord, I have considered in my mind...
the late demand that you did sound me in.
Well, let that rest. [ Clears Throat ]
Uh, Dorset is fled to Richmond.
I hear the news, my lord.
Stanley, Richmond is your wife's son.
Well, look unto it.
My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise...
for which your honor and your faith is pawned.
The earldom of Hereford and the movables which you have promised I shall possess.
Stanley, look to your wife.
If she convey letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.
Most mighty sovereign, you have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful.
I never was nor never will be false.
Well, go muster men.
But hear you, leave behind your son...
George Stanley.
Look your heart be firm, or else his head's assurance is but frail.
So deal with him...
as I prove true to you.
What says Your Highness to my just request?
I do remember me...
Henry the Sixth did prophesy that Richmond should be king...
when Richmond was a little peevish boy.
A king...
perhaps.
- My lord. - How chance the prophet could not have told me, I being by...
that I should kill him?
My lord, your promise for the earldom -
Richmond.
A bard of Ireland told me once I should not live long...
after I saw Richmond.
My lord.
Aye, what's o'clock?
I am thus bold to put Your Grace in mind of what you promised me.
Well, but what's o'clock?
- Upon the stroke of 1 0:00. - Then let it strike!
Why let it strike?
Because that, like a Jack, thou keep'st the stroke...
betwixt thy begging and my meditation.
- Is thy name Tyrrell? -James Tyrrell, and your most obedient subject.
- Art thou, indeed? - Prove me, my gracious lord.
I'm not in the giving vein today.
Why, then resolve me whether you will or no.
Thou troublest me.
I'm not in the vein.
And is it thus?
Repays he my deep services with such contempt?
Made I him king for this?
Oh, let me think on Hastings...
and be gone to Richmond while my fearful head is on.
Darest thou resolve...
to kill...
a friend of mine?
Please you, but I'd rather kill two enemies.
Why, then thou hast it. Two deep enemies...
foes to my rest and my sweet sleep's disturbers...
are they that I would have thee deal upon.
Tyrrell...
I mean those bastards in the Tower.
Let me have open means to come to them...
and soon I'll rid you from the fear of them.
[ Sighs ]
Thou sing'st sweet music.
Hark, come hither, Tyrrell.
Go, by this token.
Rise, and lend thine ear.
[ Gasps ]
[ Richard, Muffled ] There is no more but so.
Say it is done...
and I will love thee...
and prefer thee for it.
[ Tyrrell ] I will dispatch it straight.
[ Tyrrell's Voice ] ''O, thus, ''quoth Dighton, ''lay the gentle babes. ''
''Thus, thus, ''quoth Forrest...
''girdling one another within their alabaster innocent arms.
''Their lips were four red roses on a stalk...
''that in their summer beauty kissed each other.
''A book of prayers on their pillow lay...
which once, ''quoth Forrest, ''almost changed my mind.
But, oh, the devil.!''
''We smothered...
''the most replenished sweet work of nature...
''that from the prime creation...
e'er she framed. ''
Good Buckingham, tell Richmond this from me -
that in the sty of this most bloody boar...
my son George Stanley is franked up in hold.
If I revolt, off goes young George's head.
The fear of that withholds my present aid.
Commend me to my princely Richmond.
Tell him the queen hath heartily consented...
he shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter.
These letters will resolve him of my mind.
Farewell, my noble Stanley.
The son of Clarence have I pent up close...
his daughter meanly have I matched in marriage...
the sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom...
and Anne my wife hath bid this world good night.
Now, for I know the Tudor Richmond...
aims at young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter...
and, by that knot, looks proudly on the crown...
to her go I...
- a jolly thriving wooer. - [ Footsteps Approaching ]
- [ Catesby ] My lord.! - Good news or bad, that thou com'st in so bluntly?
Bad news, my lord. Buckingham is fled to Richmond.
Come, muster men. My counsel is my shield.
We must be brief when traitors brave the field.
- How now! What news? - My gracious sovereign...
on the western coast rideth a puissant navy.
To the shore 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.
Some light-foot friend post to the duke of Norfolk. Ratcliffe, thyself, or Catesby.
- Where is he? - Here, my lord. - Catesby, fly to the duke.
Go thou to Salisbury. When thou comest thither-
Dull, unmindful villain, why stayest thou here, and go'st not to the duke?
First, mighty sovereign, let me know your mind, what from Your Grace I shall deliver to him.
True, good Catesby, bid him levy straight the greatest strength and power he can make...
and meet me presently at Salisbury.
- I go. - What is't Your Highness' pleasure I shall do at Salisbury?
- What wouldst thou do there before I go? - Your Highness told me I should post before.
My mind is changed, sir, my mind is changed. Ah, Stanley.
What's the news with you?
None good, my lord, to please you with the hearing...
nor none so bad it may not well be told.
Heyday, a riddle. Neither good nor bad.
What need'st thou run so many miles about, when thou mayst tell thy tale the nearest way?
- Once more, what news? - Richmond is on the seas.
There let him sink, and be the seas on him! White-livered runagate, what makes he there?
- I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess. - Well...
as you guess?
Stirred up by Dorset, Buckingham and the Welsh...
he makes for England, there to... claim...
the crown.
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? - Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.
UnIess for that he comes to be your liege, you cannot guess wherefore the WeIshman comes.
- Thou wilt revolt and fly to him, I fear. - No, mighty liege, therefore mistrust me not.
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?
- No, my good lord, my friends are in the north. - Cold friends to me.
What do they in the north when they should serve their sovereign in the west?
They have not been commanded, mighty sovereign!
Please it your majesty to give me leave, I'll muster up my friends and meet Your Grace...
where and what time Your Majesty shall please.
Aye, thou wilt be gone to join with Richmond.
Forget not thy son George. I will not trust you, sir.
My gracious sovereign...
now in Devonshire, as I by friends am well advised...
Sir William Courtney and the haughty prelate, Bishop of Exeter, his brother there...
with many more confederates, are in arms!
My liege, in Kent the Guildfords are in arms...
and every hour more confederates flock to their aid, and still their power increaseth.
Sir Thomas Urswick and Lord Marquess Dorset, 'tis said, my liege, are up in arms!
- My lord, the army of great Buckingham - - Out on you, owls!
Nothing but songs of death! There, take thou that till thou bring better news!
Your Grace mistakes. The news I bring is good.
My news is that through sudden flood and fall of water...
the duke of Buckingham's army is dispersed and scattered...
and he himself wandered away alone, no man knows whither.
I cry you mercy that I did mistake. Hath any well-advised friend proclaimed...
reward to him that brings in Buckingham?
- Such proclamation hath been made, my liege. - [ Catesby ] My liege.!
The duke of Buckingham is taken!
Off with his head.
So much for Buckingham.
That is the best news.
That Henry Tudor, earl of Richmond, is with a mighty power landed at Milford...
is colder tidings, yet they must be told.
Away towards Salisbury!
While we reason here, a royal battle might be won and lost.
Ratcliffe, take order Buckingham be brought to Salisbury. The rest march on with me!
Then fiery expedition be my wing...
Jove's Mercury and herald for a king!
[ Richard ] Here... pitch our tents...
even here... in Bosworth field.
Why, how now, Catesby? Why look you so sad?
My heart is 1 0 times lighter than my looks.
- My lord of Norfolk? - Here, most gracious liege.
Norfolk, we must have knocks. Ha! Must we not?
- We must both give and take, my gracious lord. - [ Richard Laughs ]
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 foe?
Six or seven thousand is their greatest number.
Why, our battalion trebles that account.
Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength...
which they upon the adverse faction want.
Up with my tent. There!
Come hither, Lovel.
Where is Lord Stanley quartered, dost thou know?
Unless I have mista'en his colors much, his regiment lies half a mile at least...
to northward of our power, milord.
Send to him, good Lovel. Bid him bring his power before sunrising...
lest his son George fall into the blind cave of eternal night.
Come, valiant gentlemen...
let us survey the vantage of the ground.
Let's want no discipline, make no delay...
for, sirs, tomorrow is a busy day.
My lord of Stanley, the king doth strain a charge...
that if you value your son George's life...
you do present your host before the crowing of the cock.
Fortune and victory sit on thy helm.
All comfort that the dark hour can afford be to thy person...
noble stepfather.
Tell me, how fares our loving mother?
I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother...
who prays continually for Richmond's good.
So much for that.
The silent hours steal on.
In brief, for so the season bids us be...
prepare thy battle early in the morning.
I, as I may, with best advantage will deceive the time...
and aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms.
But on thy side I may not be too forward...
lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George...
be executed in his father's sight.
Farewell.
The leisure and the fearful time cuts off the ceremonious vows of love...
which so long sundered friends should dwell upon.
God grant us leisure for these rites of love.
Once more, adieu.
Be valiant and speed well.
Good lords, conduct him to his regiment.
What is't o'clock?
'Tis suppertime, my lord. 'Tis nine o'clock.
Hmm. I will not sup tonight.
Give me some ink and paper.
What, is my helmet easier than it was...
and all my armor laid into my tent?
It is, my liege, and all things are in readiness.
Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge.
Choose careful watch, use trusty sentinels.
I go, my lord.
- Good night, good Lovel. - Milord.
Stir with the lark tomorrow, gentle Norfolk.
I warrant you, my lord.
[ Dogs Barking In Distance ]
- Catesby. - My lord?
Fill me a bowl of wine.
Give me a watch.
Saddle white Surrey for the field tomorrow.
Look that my staves be sound, but not too heavy.
Oh, Ratcliffe.
- My lord? - Saw you the melancholy Lord Northumberland?
Thomas the earl of Suffolk, and himself, much about cockshut time...
from troop to troop went through the army, cheering up the soldiers.
[ Chuckles ] So, I'm satisfied.
Give me a bowl of wine.
I have not that alacrity of spirit...
nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have.
Set it down. Is ink and paper ready?
- It is, my lord. - Bid my guard watch. Leave me.
- Ratcliffe. - My lord?
About the mid of night come to my tent...
and help to arm me.
Leave me, I say.
## [ Flourish ]
##[ Trumpet Flourish In Distance ]
## [ Continues ]
[ Richmond ] Once more good night unto you all.
I'll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap...
lest leaden slumber weigh me down tomorrow...
when I should mount with wings of victory.
And so, once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen.
- Good night, good Richmond. - Good night.
##[ Trumpet Flourish ]
##[ Ends ]
O thou, whose captain I account myself...
look on my forces with a gracious eye.
Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath...
that we may crush down with a heavy fall...
the usurping helmet of our adversaries.
Make us thy ministers of chastisement...
that we may praise thee in thy victory.
To thee I do commend my watchful soul...
ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes.
Sleeping and waking...
oh, defend me still.
##[ Trumpet Flourish ]
- ##[ Ends ] - [ Bell Tolling ]
- ##[ Ends ] - [ Bell Tolling ]
[ Tolling Continues ]
[ Tolling Ends ]
[ Whispering ] Let me sit heavy in thy soul tomorrow.
I that was washed to death with fulsome wine...
poor Clarence...
by thy guile betrayed to death.
Tomorrow in the battle think on me...
and fall thy edgeless sword.
Despair and die!
[ Whispering ] Dream on thy cousins smothered in the Tower.
Thy nephews'souls bid thee despair and die.
[ Whispering ] Think on Lord Hastings.
Despair and die.
Richard, thy wife...
that wretched Anne thy wife...
that never slept a quiet hour with thee...
now fills thy sleep with perturbations.
Tomorrow in the battle think on me...
and fall thy edgeless sword.
Despair and die.
[ Yelling ]
[ Yelling ]
Give me another horse!
Bind up my wounds!
[ Richard ] Have mercy,jesu.!
[ Rooster Crows ]
[ Rooster Crows ]
[ Panting ]
##[ Trumpet Flourish ]
My lord.
Who is there?
Ratcliffe, my lord. 'Tis I.
The early village cock hath twice done salutation to the morn.
Your friends are up and buckle on their armor.
O Ratcliffe, I have dreamed a fearful dream.
What thinkest thou, will our friends prove all true?
No doubt, my lord.
O Ratcliffe, I fear.
I fear.
Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows.
By the apostle Paul, shadows tonight...
have struck more terror to the soul of Richard...
than can the substance of 1 0,000 soldiers...
armed in proof and led by shallow Richmond.
[ Bell Tolling ]
Tell the clock there.
Give me a calendar.
- Who saw the sun today? - Not I, my lord.
Then he disdains to shine...
for by the book he should have braved the east an hour ago.
A black day will it be...
to somebody.
- Catesby. - My lord.
The sun will not be seen today.
The sky doth frown and lower upon our army.
I would these dewy tears were from the ground.
Not shine today?
##[ Trumpet Flourish ]
Why, what is that to me more than to Richmond?
For the selfsame heaven that frowns on me...
looks sadly upon him. [ Laughs ]
Arm, arm, my lord! The foe vaunts in the field.
##[ Drums In Distance ]
##[ Drums Continue ]
##[ Drums Continue ]
Come, bustle, bustle. Caparison my horse.
Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power.
I will lead forth my soldiers to the field...
and thus my battle shall be ordered.
My foreward shall be drawn out all in length...
consisting equally of horse and foot.
Our archers shall be placed in the midst.
John Duke of Norfolk and Thomas Earl of Suffolk...
shall have the leading of this foot and horse.
They thus directed, we will follow in the main battle...
whose puissance on either side shall be well winged with our chiefest horse.
This, and Saint George to boot! What think'st thou, Norfolk?
- A good direction, warlike sovereign. - [ Chuckles ]
This found I on my tent this morning.
''Jockey of Norfolk...
''be not so bold...
''for Dickon thy master...
''is bought...
and sold.''
##[ Drums In Distance ]
A thing devised by the enemy.
My lord, the enemy are past the marsh.
##[ Trumpet Flourish In Distance ]
##[ Drums Continue ]
Go, noble gentleman, every man to his charge.
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls...
for conscience is a word that cowards use...
devised at first to keep the strong in awe.
- Conscience avaunt! - Aye!
[ Horses Whinny ]
Richard's himself again.
##[ Drums Continue ]
- March on! - [ All Yell ]
Join bravely, let us to it pell-mell.
If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.
- [ All Yell ] - Fight, gentlemen of England!
Fight, bold yeomen!
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!
- [ All Yell ] - Spur your proud horses hard...
and ride in blood!
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!
[ All Yelling ]
[ All Cheer]
What says Lord Stanley? Will he bring his power?
- My lord, he doth deny to come. - Off with his son George's head!
My lord, the time admits not such a course!
After the battle let George Stanley die.
[ Distant Chattering, Yelling ]
A thousand hearts are great within my bosom.
Advance our standards...
set upon our foes.
Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George...
inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
Upon them! Victory sits in our helms!
[ Horse Whinnies ]
[ Men Yelling ]
[ Whinnies ]
Rescue!
Rescue!
My lord of Norfolk, rescue!
The king enacts more wonders than a man, daring an opposite to every danger.
His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights...
seeking for Richmond in the throat of death.
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost.
[ Screams ]
[ Richard ] A horse.!
A horse!
My kingdom for a horse!
Withdraw, my lord.
I'll help you to a horse.
Slave, I have set my life upon a cast...
and I will stand the hazard of the die.
I think there be six Richmonds in the field.
Five have I slain today instead of him.
A horse!
A horse.! My kingdom for a horse.!
[ Richard Panting ]
[ Panting ]
[ All Yelling ]
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