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##[ Bells Chiming ] [ All ] God save King Edward the Fourth! Long live King Edward the Fourth! May the king live forever! [ Man Speaking Latin ] [ All Speaking Latin ] Once more we sit in England's royal throne... repurchased with the blood of enemies. [ All ] Hurrah! Come hither, Bess. [ Chuckles ] And let me kiss my boy. Young Ned... for thee thine uncles and myself... have in our armors watched the winter's night... went all afoot in summer's scalding heat... that thou mightst repossess the crown in peace. And from our labors, thou shall reap the gain. Clarence and Gloucester... love my lovely queen. And kiss your princely nephew, Brothers both. The duty that I owe unto Your Majesty... I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe. Thanks, noble Clarence. And that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st... witness the loving kiss I give the fruit. Worthy Brother, thanks. And now what rests but that we spend the time with stately triumphs... mirthful comic shows... such as befit the pleasure of the court. Sound drums and trumpets! Farewell sour annoy... for here, I hope, begins our lasting joy. [ All ] Hurrah! [ Crowd Cheering ] [ Cheering Continues ] [ Bells Pealing ] [ Loud Cheering ] [ Cheering Continues ] [ Cheering Continues ] [ Cheering Fades ] [ Door Closes ] Now is the winter of our discontent... made glorious summer... by this sun of York. And all the clouds that lowered 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 changed to merry meetings... our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war has smoothed his wrinkled front. And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds... - to fright the souls of fearful adversaries... - ##[ Lute ] he capers nimbly in a lady's chamber... - to the lascivious pleasing... - ##[ Continues ] of a lute. ##[ Ends ] But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks... nor made to court an amorous looking-glass - I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty... to strut before a wanton ambling nymph - I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion... cheated of feature by dissembling nature... deformed, unfinished... 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, love forswore me in my mother's womb. And, for I should not deal in her soft laws... she did corrupt frail nature with some bribe... to shrimp mine arm up like a withered shrub... to heap an envious mountain on my back... to shape my legs of an unequal size... to disproportion me in every part... like to a chaos or an unlicked bear whelp... that carries no impression like the dam! 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. Then, since this earth affords no joy to me... but to command, to check... to o'erbear such as are of better person than myself... I'll make my heaven to dream... upon the crown... and, whiles I live, to account this world but hell... until this misshaped trunk that bears this head... be round impaled with a glorious - [ Chuckles ] crown. But yet I know not how to get the crown... for many lives stand between me and home. And I, like one lost in a thorny wood... that rends the thorns and is rent with the thorns... seeking a way and straying from the way... not knowing how to find the open air... but toiling desperately to find it out... torment myself to catch the English crown! And from that torment I will free myself... or hew my way out with a bloody ax! Why... I can smile... and murder whiles I smile... and cry ''Content'' to that which grieves my heart... and wet my cheeks with artificial tears... and frame my face to all occasions. I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall. I'll play the orator as well as Nestor... deceive more slyly than Ulysses could... and, like a Sinon, take another Troy. I can add colors to the chameleon... change shapes with Proteus for advantages... and set the murderous Machiavel to school! Can I do this and cannot get a crown? Tut, were it further off, I'll pluck it down. ##[ Men Chanting In Latin ] ##[ Continues ] ##[ Continues ] Meantime, I'll marry... with the Lady Anne. ## [ Continues ] And here she comes... ##[ Continues ] lamenting her lost love... Edward, prince of Wales... whom I some small time since... stabbed in my angry mood at Tewksbury. A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman this spacious world cannot again afford. And made her widow to a woeful bed... that from his loins no hopeful branch might spring... to cross me from the golden time... I look for. ##[ Continues ] ## [ Continues ] ## [ Continues ] ## [ Ends ] Set down... set down your honorable load... whilst I awhile obsequiously lament... the pale ashes of the house of Lancaster. [ Whimpers Softly ] Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood. Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost... to hear the lamentations of poor Anne. Lo... in these windows that let forth thy life... I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes. Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes! Cursed be the heart that had the heart to do it! Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence! If ever he have wife, let her be made... more miserable by the death of him... than I am made... by my young lord. Aye, thee. ## [ Chanting Resumes ] [ Yells ] Stay,you that bear the corse... and set it down. What black magician conjures up this fiend... to stop devoted charitable deeds? Villains, set down the corse, or, by Saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys. - My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. - Unmannered 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. 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. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so cursed. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not. If thou delight to view thy heinous deed... behold this pattern of thy butcheries. Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity. Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman... of these supposed crimes, to give me leave... by circumstance, but to acquit myself. - I did not kill your husband. - Why, then he is alive. O, he was gentle, mild and virtuous. The fitter for the King of Heaven, that hath him, for he was fitter for that place than earth. And thou unfit for any place but hell. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. [ Sobbing ] Some dungeon. - Your bedchamber. - [ Sobbing Continues ] [ Spits ] On now, good people, with your holy load. ## [ Chanting Resumes ] ## [ Continues ] ##[ Continues, Faint ] I'll have her... but I will not keep her long. What though I killed 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. [ Sighs Deeply ] 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. [ Thinking ] Clarence, beware. Thou keepest me from the light. But I will plan a pitchy day for thee... and I will buzz abroad such prophecies... that Edward shall be fearful ofhis life. And then, to purge his fear... I'll be thy death. ## [ Chanting In Latin ] ## [ Chanting In Latin ] ##[ Continues ] ##[ Continues ] [ Whispering ] ##[ Continues ] [ Edward ] Where is the duke of Clarence? [ Man ] At hand, my lord. He waits Your Highness'pleasure. - ## [ Continues ] - [ Edward ] Let him be arraigned... and brought before us. ## [ Continues ] Plots have I laid... inductions dangerous... with lies well steeled with weighty arguments... by drunken prophecies... libels... and dreams... to set my brother Clarence and the king... in deadly hate the one against the other. ##[ Continues ] [ Edward ] Oh, passing traitor... perjured and unjust! What have I done that seems disgracious in my brother's - And if King Edward be as true and just... as I am subtle, false and treacherous... this day should Clarence closely be mewed up... about a prophecy, which says that ''G''... of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. And if I fail not in my deep intent, Clarence hath not another day to live. What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit? Away with him! ##[ Continues ] [ Sighs ] He cannot live... I hope... and must not die till George be packed with post-horse up to heaven. Dive, thoughts, down to my soul - George Clarence comes. ##[ Continues ] - Brother! - Oh. [ Chuckling ] Good day. What means this armed guard that waits upon Your Grace? His Majesty, tendering my person's safety... hath appointed this conduct to convey me to the Tower. - Upon what cause? - Because my name is George. Alas, milord, that fault is none of yours. - He should, for that, commit your godfathers. - [ Chuckles ] O, belike his majesty hath some intent... that you shall be new-christened in the Tower, eh? [ Chuckles ] Ah, but what's the matter, Clarence? - May I know? - 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 crossrow 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 thoughts that I am he. These, as I learn, and suchlike toys as these... have moved His Highness to commit me now. Why, thus it is when men are ruled by women. 'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower. Our upstart queen - his wife, Clarence, 'tis she... that tempers him to this extremity. Was it not she and that good man of worship... Anthony Rivers, 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. 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. We know thy charge, Brackenbury, and will obey. We are the queen's abjects and must obey. Brother, farewell. I will unto the king... and whatsoe'er you will employ me in, I will perform it to enfranchise you. Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood... touches me deeper than you can imagine. - I know it pleaseth neither of us well. - [ Chuckles ] Well... your imprisonment shall not be long. I will deliver you, or else lie for you. - Meantime, have patience. - I must perforce. Farewell. [ Door Closes ] 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. Gentle Lady Anne... is not the causer of the untimely death of your brave prince... as blameful as the executioner? Thou art the cause... and most accursed effect. Your beauty was the cause of that effect. Your beauty, which did haunt me in my sleep... to undertake the death of all the world... so I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide... these nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband... did it to help thee to a better husband. His better does not breathe upon the earth. Go to. He lives that loves you better than he could. Where is he? Here. [ Spits ] Why dost thou spit... at me? Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake. Never came poison from so sweet a place. Never hung poison on a fouler toad. Out of my sight. Thou dost infect mine eyes. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears... shamed their aspects with store of childish drops. These eyes that never shed remorseful tear. No. When thy warlike father, like a child... told the sad story of my father's death... and 20 times made pause to sob and weep... that all the standers-by had wet their cheeks... like trees bedashed with rain - in that sad time... my manly eyes did scorn an humble tear. And what these sorrows could not thence bring forth... thy beauty hath... and made them blind with weeping. I never sued to friend nor enemy. My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word. But now thy beauty is proposed my fee. My proud heart sues and prompts my tongue to speak. Teach not thy lip such scorn... for it was made for kissing, lady... not for such contempt. If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive... lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword... which if thou please to hide in this true breast and let the soul forth that adoreth thee... I lay it naked to the deadly stroke and humbly beg the death upon my knee! Nay, do not pause, for I did kill Prince Edward... but 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. Nay, now dispatch. 'Twas I that stabbed your husband... but 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. [ Whimpers, Sobs ] Take up the sword again... or take up me. Arise, dissembler. Though I wish thy death... I will not be thy executioner. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. - I have already. - That was in thy rage. Speak it again, and, even with the word... this hand, which for thy love did kill thy love... shall for thy love kill a far truer love. To both their deaths shalt thou be accessory. - I would I knew thy heart. - 'Tis figured in my tongue. - I fear me both are false. - Then never man was true. Well, well... put up your sword. Say, then, my peace is made. That shalt thou know hereafter. - But shall I live in hope? - All men, I hope, live so. Vouchsafe to wear this ring. To take... is not to give. Look... how my ring encompasseth thy finger. Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart. Wear both of them... for both of them are thine. Bid me farewell. Was ever woman in this humor wooed? Was ever woman in this humor won? My dukedom to a widow's chastity... I do mistake my person all this while. Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot... myself to be a marvelous proper man. I'll be at charges for a looking glass... and entertain some score or two of tailors... to study fashions to adorn my body. Since I am crept in favor with myself... I will maintain it to some little cost. Shine out, fair sun... till I have bought a glass... that I may see my shadow... as I pass. Have patience, madam. There's no doubt His Majesty... will soon recover his accustomed health. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse. Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort... and cheer His Grace... with quick and merry words. If he were dead, what would betide of me? No other harm but loss of such a lord. The loss of such a lord includes all harm. The heavens have blessed you with a goodly son to be your comforter when he is gone. Oh, he is young and his minority... is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester- a man that loves not me, nor none of you. Is it concluded he shall be protector? It is intended, not concluded yet. But so it must be if the king miscarry. This is a special warrant for the duke of Clarence. A summary order to deliver him... to execution and the hand of death. ##[ Men Chanting In Latin ] ##[ Continues ] [ Blows ] Which done... God take King Edward to his mercy... and leave the world for me... to bustle in. ## [ Continues ] ## [ Ends ] [ Groans ] Oh. [ Whimpers ] Why looks Your Grace so heavily today? Oh, I have passed a miserable night. So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams... that as I am a Christian faithful man... I would not spend another such a night... though 'twere to buy a world of happy days... so full of dismal terror was the time. What was this dream? I pray you tell it me. Methought that I had broken from the Tower... and was embarked to cross to Burgundy. And in my company, my brother Gloucester... who from my cabin tempted me to walk upon the hatches. Thence we looked towards England... and cited up a thousand fearful times... during the wars of York and Lancaster that had befallen us. As we paced along upon the giddy footing of the hatches... methought that Gloucester stumbled... and, in falling... struck me, that thought to stay him... overboard, into the tumbling billows of the main. Lord, Lord! Methought what pain it was to drown. What dreadful noise of water in mine ears. What ugly sights of death within mine eyes. Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks... 1 0,000 men that fishes gnawed upon... wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl... inestimable stones, unvalued jewels... all scattered at the bottom of the sea. Had you such leisure in the time of death... to gaze upon the secrets of the deep? Methought I had, and often did I strive... to yield the ghost. But still the envious flood kept in my soul... and would not let it forth to find the empty, vast and wandering air... but smothered it within my panting bulk... which almost burst to belch it in the sea. Awoke you not with this sore agony? Oh, no, my dream was lengthened after life. Oh, then began the tempest to my soul. I crossed, methought, the melancholy flood... with that grim ferryman that poets write of... into the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul... was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick... who cried aloud... ''What scourge for perjury can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?'' And so he vanished. Then came wandering by a shadow like an angel... with bright hair dabbled with blood. And he shrieked out aloud... ''Clarence is come! False, fleeting, perjured Clarence... ''that stabbed me in the field by Tewksbury! Seize on him, Furies! Take him to your torments!'' With that, methought a legion of foul fiends environed me... and howled in mine ears such hideous cries... that with the very noise I trembling waked... and for a season after... could not believe but that I was in hell... such terrible impression made my dream. No marvel, my lord, that it affrighted you. I promise you, I am afraid to hear you tell it. Oh, Brackenbury, I have done those things... which now bear evidence against my soul... for Edward's sake... and see how he requites me. Oh, God, if my deep prayers will not appease thee... but thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds... yet execute thy wrath on me alone. Oh, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children. - [ Keys jingling ] - I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay with me. My soul is heavy... and I fain would sleep. I will, my lord. God give Your Grace... good rest. [ Man ] Good time of day unto Your Royal Grace. [ Chuckling ] Oh, princely Buckingham. I kiss thy hand. - Good morrow, Catesby. - God make Your Grace as joyful as you have been. - [ Buckingham Chuckles ] - But now the duke of Buckingham and I have come from visiting His Majesty. He hath revoked the order for the execution of the duke, your brother. What likelihood of his amendment, lords? But who comes here? By heaven, I think there's no man 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 to her for his delivery? 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 favor with the king to be her men and wear her livery. The jealous fading queen and Mistress Shore... since that our brother dubbed them gentlewomen... are mighty gossips in our monarchy. [ Door Opens ] 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. Even so, an't please your worship, Brackenbury... you may partake of anything 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 pIeasing tongue and that the queen's kindred are made gentIefoIks. How say you, sir? Can you deny all this? - With this, my lord, myself have naught to do. - [ Snickers ] 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. - What one, my lord? - Her husband, knave. Wouldst thou betray me? - [ All Laugh ] - I beseech Your Graces both to pardon me... and withal forbear all conference with the duke of Clarence. [ Sighs ] I cannot tell. The world is grown so bad... that wrens may prey where eagles dare not perch. Since everyJack became a gentleman, there's many a gentle person made a Jack. - [ All Chuckle ] - But who comes here? [ Catesby ] The new-delivered Hastings. Good time of day unto my gracious lord. As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain. - Well are you welcome to this open air. - [ Chuckles ] - How hath your Iordship brooked imprisonment? - With patience, good Catesby, as prisoners must. - My lord. - Farewell, good Brackenbury. But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks that were the cause of my imprisonment. No doubt, no doubt. And so shall Clarence, too. For they that were your enemies are his... and have prevailed as much on him as you. More pity that the eagle should be mewed... while kites and buzzards prey at liberty. - What news abroad? - No news so bad abroad as this at home. The king is sickly, weak and melancholy, and his physicians fear him mightily. Now, by Saint Paul, that news is bad indeed. Hmm. He hath kept an evil diet long... and overmuch consumed his royal person. [ Clears Throat ] 'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. Where is he, Catesby, in his bed? - He is. - God grant him health. - Did you confer with him? - We did, my lord... and he desires to make atonement betwixt the duke of Gloucester and the brothers of the queen. And betwixt them and you, my good Lord Chamberlain... and sent to warn you to his royal presence. [ Yells ] They do me wrong... and I will not endure it. Who are they that complain unto the king... that I, forsooth, am stern and love them not? By holy Paul, they love His Grace but lightly that fill his ears with such dissentious rumors. Because I cannot flatter and speak fair... smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive and cog... duck with French nods and apish courtesy... I must be held a rancorous enemy. Cannot a plain man live and think no harm... but thus his simple truth must be abused... by silken, sly, insinuating Jacks? - To whom in all this presence speaks Your Grace? - To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace. When have I injured thee? When done thee wrong? Or thee? Or thee? Or any of your faction? A plague upon you all. His Royal Grace, whom God preserve better than you would wish... cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while... but you must trouble him with lewd complaints. Come, come, we know your meaning, Brother Gloucester. You envy my advancement and my friends'. God grant we never may have need of you! Meantime, God grants that we have need of you. Our brother is imprisoned by your means... myself disgraced and the nobility held in contempt... while great promotions are daily given to ennoble those... that scarce some two days since were worth a noble. By God who raised me to this careful height... from that contented hap which I enjoyed... I never did incense his majesty against the duke of Clarence... but have been an earnest advocate to plead for him. My lord, you do me shameful injury falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. You may deny that you were not the cause of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment. - She may, my lord - - She may, Lord Rivers. Why, who knows not so? She may do more, sir, than denying that. She may help you to many fair preferments and then deny her aiding hand therein... and lay those honors on your high desert. Ha! What may she not? She may, aye, marry, may she - - What, marry, may she? - ''What, marry, may she?'' Marry with a king... a bachelor and a handsome stripling, too. I guess your grandam had a worser match. My lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne... your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs. By heaven, I will acquaint His Majesty... with those gross taunts I often have endured. What? Threat you me with telling of the king? Tell him and spare not. Look, what I have said I will avouch in presence of the king. I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower. 'Tis time to speak, my pains are quite forgot. I had rather be a country servant-maid than a great queen, with this condition... to be thus baited, scorned and stormed at. Small joy have I in being England's queen. Ere you were queen, aye, or your husband king... I was a packhorse in his great affairs... a weeder-out of his proud adversaries, a liberal rewarder of his friends. To royalize his blood I spilt mine own. In all which time you and your late husband... together with his son Dorset here... were factious for the house of Lancaster- and, Rivers, so were you. Let me put in your minds, if you forget, what you have been ere this, and what you are. Withal, what I have been, and what I am. Poor Clarence did forsake his father-in-law, Warwick- Aye, and forswore himself- which Jesu pardon - to fight on Edward's party for the crown. And for his meed, poor lord, he is mewed up. I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward's... or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine. I am too childish-foolish for this world. My lord of Gloucester, in those busy days... which here you urge to prove us enemies... we followed then our lord, our lawful king. So should we you, if you should be our king. If I should be? I'd rather be a peddler. Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof. As little joy, my lord, as you suppose... you should enjoy, were you this country's king... as little I enjoy, being the queen thereof. Dispute not with him. He is lunatic. Peace, Master Marquess, you are malapert. Your fire-new stamp of honor is scarce current. - What doth he say, my lord of Stanley? - Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. They that stand high have many blasts to shake them. And when they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. Good counsel. Marry, learn it, Marquess. Learn it. - It touches you, my lord, as much as me. - Aye... and much more. But I was born so high. [ Richard ] I was too hot to do somebody good... that is too cold in thinking of it now. Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid. He is franked up to fatting for his pains. God pardon them that are the cause thereof. A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion... to pray for them that have done wrong to us. So do I ever, being well-advised. For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself. Madam, His Majesty doth call for you and for Your Grace and you, my noble lords. Catesby, we come. Lords, will you go with us? Madam, we will attend Your Grace. Go you before, and I will follow you. But soft... But soft... here come my executioners. How now, my hardy, stout resolved mates! Are you now going to dispatch this thing? We are, milord, and come to have the warrant that we may be admitted where he is. Well thought upon. I have it here about me. Uh - But, sirs, be sudden in the execution... withal obdurate, do not hear him plead... for Clarence is well-spoken and perhaps may move your hearts to pity if you mark him. Tush! Fear not, milord, we will not stand to prate. Talkers are no good doers. Be assured we come to use our hands and not our tongues. [ Chuckles ] Your eyes drop millstones when fools' eyes drop tears, eh? [ Both Chuckle ] [ Chuckling ] I like you, lads. About your business straight. - Go, go, dispatch. - We will, my noble lord. In God's name, who are you, and how came you hither? I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. - Be you so brief? - O, sir, 'tis better to be brief than tedious. Show him our commission and talk no more. I am, in this, commanded to deliver the noble duke of Clarence to your hands. I will not reason what is meant thereby, because I will be guiltless of the meaning. Here is the key. There lies the duke asleep. I'll to His Majesty and certify His Grace that thus I have resigned my charge to you. You may, sir. It is a point of wisdom. Fare you well. I know thy charge, Brackenbury... and will take it. [ Door Opens ] Clout him over the head with the hilts of thy weapon... and then chop him in the malmsey butt in the next room. Aye, make a sop of him. Where art thou, keeper? [ Sighs ] Give me a cup of wine. You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. [ Screaming ] [ Screaming Stops ] Why, so. Now have I done a good day's work. You peers, continue this united league. Madam, my mother... I do crave your blessing. I every day expect a summons from my Redeemer... to redeem me hence... and now... in peace my soul shall part for heaven... since I have left my friends at peace on earth. Rivers, Hastings... take each other's hand. Dissemble not your hatred... swear your love. By heaven, my heart is purged from grudging hate... and with my hand I seal my true heart's love. So thrive I, as I truly swear the like. Take heed you dally not before your king... lest he that is the supreme King of Kings... confound your hidden falsehood... and award either of you to be the other's end. So prosper I, as I swear perfect love. And I, as I love Hastings with my heart. Madam, yourself are not exempt in this... nor you, young Dorset - Buckingham, nor you. You have been factious one against the other. Wife, love Lord Hastings. Let him kiss your hand. And what you do, do it unfeignedly. There, Hastings. I will never more remember our former hatred... so thrive I and mine. Dorset, embrace him. Hastings, love Lord Marquess. This interchange of love, I here protest, upon my part shall be inviolable. And so swear I, my lord. Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league... with thy embracement to my wife's allies... and make me happy in your unity. Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate on you or yours... God punish me with hate in those where I expect most love. When I have most need to employ a friend... and most assured that he is a friend... deep, hollow, treacherous and full of guile... be he unto me. This do I beg of God... when I am cold in zeal to you or yours. [ Edward ] Apleasing cordial, princely Buckingham... is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here... to make the perfect period of this peace. [ Buckingham ] And in good time here comes the noble duke. Good morrow to my sovereign king... and queen... and, princely peers, a happy time of day. Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day. Brother, we have done deeds of charity... made peace of enmity, fair love of hate... between these swelling wrong-incensed peers. A blessed labor, my most sovereign liege. Among this princely heap... if any here, by false intelligence... or wrong surmise, hold me a foe - If I unwittingly, or in my rage... have aught committed that is hardly borne by any in this presence... I desire to reconcile me to his friendly peace. 'Tis death to me to be at enmity. I hate it, and desire all good men's love. First, madam, I entreat true peace of you... which I will purchase with my duteous service. Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham... if ever any grudge were lodged between us - of you, Lord Rivers, and, Lord Grey, of you - of you, my noble Marquess, lord of Dorset - that all without desert have frowned on me - dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen... indeed, of all. I do not know that Englishman alive with whom my soul is any jot at odds... more than the infant that is born tonight. I thank my God for my humility. A holy day shall this be kept hereafter. I would to God all strifes were well compounded. My sovereign liege, I do beseech Your Majesty... to take our brother Clarence to Your Grace. Why, madam... have I offered love for this to be so flouted in this royal presence? Who knows not that the gentle duke... is dead? You do him injury to scorn his corse. Who knows not he is dead? - Who knows he is? - All-seeing heaven, what a world is this! Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest? Aye, my good lord... and no one in this presence but his red color hath forsook his cheeks. I-Is Clarence dead? The order was reversed. But he, poor soul, by your first order died, and that a winged Mercury did bear. Some tardy cripple bore the countermand... that came too lag to see him buried. Who sued to me for him? Who, in my rage, kneeled at my feet, and bade me be advised? Who spake of brotherhood? Who spake of love? Who told me how the poor soul did forsake the mighty Warwick and did fight for me? Who told me, in the field by Tewksbury... when Warwick had me down, he rescued me... and said, ''Dear Brother, live and be a king''? Who told me... when we both lay on the ground frozen almost to death... how he did lap me even in his own garments... and gave himself, all thin and naked, to the numb, cold night? All this from my remembrance brutish wrath sinfully plucked... and not a man of you had so much grace to put it in my mind! Oh, God! I fear... thy justice will take hold on me, and you... and mine, and yours for this. Come, Hastings, help me to my bed. Oh! Poor Clarence! This is the fruit of rashness. Marked you not how that the guilty kindred of the queen... looked pale when they did hear of Clarence' death? Oh, my good Lord Stanley, they did urge it still unto the king. - God will revenge it. - [ Queen Wails ] [ Sobbing ] [ Sobbing Continues ] Oh, who shall hinder me to wail and weep... to chide my fortune and torment myself? Oh, for my husband, for my dear Lord Edward. Comfort, dear madam. God is much displeased... that you take with unthankfulness his doing. Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother... of the young prince of Wales. Send straight for him. Let him be crowned. In him your comfort lives. Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave... and plant your joys in living Edward's throne. Sister... have comfort. All of us have cause to wail the dimming of our shining star... but none may help our harms by wailing them. Madam my mother, I do cry you mercy. I did not see Your Grace. Most humbly on my knee, I crave your blessing. God bless thee and put meekness in thy mind... love, charity, obedience and true duty. Amen, and make me die a good old man. That is the butt end of a mother's blessing. I marvel that Her Grace did leave it out. You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers... that bear this mutual heavy load of moan... now cheer each other in each other's love. The broken rancor of your high-swoln hearts... but lately splinted, knit and joined together... must gently be preserved, cherished and kept. Meseemeth good that with some little train... forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetched... hither to London to be crowned our king. Why with some little train, my lord of Buckingham? Marry, my lord, lest by a multitude... the new-healed wound of malice should break out... as well the fear of harm as harm apparent... in my opinion, ought to be prevented. I hope the king made peace with all of us... and the compact is firm and true in me. And so in me. And so, I think, in all. Yet, since it is but green... it should be put to no apparent likelihood of breach... which haply by much company might be urged. Therefore I say with noble Buckingham... that it is meet so few should fetch the prince. - And so say I. - Then be it so... and go we to determine who they shall be... that straight shall post to Ludlow. Madam, and you, my mother, will you go to give your censures in this business? With all our hearts. My lord... whoever journeys to the prince, for God's sake, let not us two stay behind. For by the way I'll sort occasion... as index to the story we late talked on... to part the queen's proud kindred from the prince. My other self... my counsel's consistory... my oracle, my prophet. My dear cousin... I, like a child, will go by thy direction. Towards Ludlow then... for we'll not stay behind. Last night, I hear, they lay at Northampton. At Stony-Stratford will they be tonight. Tomorrow, or next day, they will be here. I long with all my heart to see the prince. I hope he is much grown since last I saw him. But I hear no. They say my son of York hath almost overta'en him in his growth. Aye, Mother, but I would not have it so. Why, my young grandson, it is good to grow. Grandam, one night as we did sit at supper... my uncle Rivers talked how I did grow... more than my brother. ''Aye,'' quoth my uncle Gloucester... ''Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace.'' Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast... that he could gnaw a crust at two hours old. 'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth. A parlous boy. Go to, you are too shrewd. Good madam, be not angry with the child. Pitchers have ears. [ Shouts ] Where is the queen? - Where is Her Majesty? - She is above, my lord. Here comes your kinsman Marquess Dorset. - What news, Lord Marquess? - Such news, my lord, as grieves me to unfold. - How fares the prince? - Well, madam, and in health. What is thy news, then? Madam, your brothers, Lord Rivers... and Lord Grey... are sent to Pomfret... prisoners. Who hath committed them? The mighty dukes Gloucester and Buckingham. For what offense? The sum of all I can, I have disclosed. Why, or for what, our kinsmen are committed... is all unknown to me, my gracious lady. Ay me, I see the downfall of our house. The tiger now hath seized the gentle hind. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days... how many of you have mine eyes beheld. My husband lost his life to get the crown... and often up and down my sons were tossed... for me to joy or weep their gain and loss. Blood against blood... self against self. O let me die, to look on death no more. Come, come, my boy. We will to sanctuary. - Madam, farewell. - I'll go with you. You have no cause. My gracious lady, go, and thither bear your treasure and your goods. For my part, I'll resign unto Your Grace the seal I keep... and so betide to me as well I tender you and all of yours. Come, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary. [ Dinging ] [ Archbishop Speaking Latin ] - [ All Respond In Latin ] - [ Continues In Latin ] Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber. Welcome, dear cousin... my thoughts' sovereign. Ah, the weary way hath made you melancholy. No, Uncle, but our crosses on the way... have made it tedious, wearisome and heavy. I want more uncles here to welcome me. Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years... hath not yet dived into the world's deceit. No more can you distinguish of a man than of his outward show... which, God he knows, seldom or never... jumpeth with the heart. Those uncles which you want... were dangerous. Your Grace attended to their sugared words... but looked not on the poison of their hearts. God keep you from them and from such false friends. God keep me from false friends, but they were none. Hmm. Sir, my Lord Archbishop comes to greet you. The mayor of London waits upon Your Grace. God bless Your Grace with health and happy days. I thank you, good my lord, and thank you all. I thought my mother and my brother York... would long ere this have met us on the way. Fie, what a slug is Hastings... that he comes not to tell us whether they will come or no. And in good time here comes the sweating lord. And the Lord Stanley with him. Welcome, my lord. What, will our mother come? On what occasion, God he knows, not I... the queen your mother and your brother York have taken sanctuary. The tender prince would fain have come with me to meet Your Grace... but by his mother was perforce withheld. Fie, what indirect and peevish course is this of hers. My Lord Archbishop... will Your Grace persuade the queen... to send the duke of York unto his princely brother presently? If she deny, Lord Hastings, go with him... and from her jealous arms pluck him perforce. My lord of Buckingham... if my weak oratory can from his mother win the duke of York... anon expect him here. But if she be obdurate to mild entreaties... God in heaven forbid we should infringe the holy privilege of blessed sanctuary! Not for all this land would I be guilty of so deep a sin. You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord... too ceremonious and traditional. Weigh it but with the grossness of this age, you break not sanctuary in seizing him. The benefit thereof is always granted... to those whose dealings have deserved the place... and those that have the wit to claim the place. This prince hath neither claimed it nor deserved it. And therefore, in my opinion, cannot have it. Oft have I heard of sanctuary men... but sanctuary children - huh! - ne'er till now. [ All Laughing ] Milord, you shall o'errule my mind for once. Come on, Lord Hastings, will you go with me? I go, my lord. Lord Stanley, will you come? Good lords, make all the speedy haste you may. Catesby, Ratcliffe, Lovel, go with them. [ Sighs ] [ Buckingham Laughs ] The mayor towards Guildhall hies him in all haste. There tomorrow, at your meetest vantage of the time... infer the bastardy of Edward's children. Moreover, urge his hateful luxury... and bestial appetite in change of lust... which stretched unto their servants, daughters, wives... even where his raging eye or savage heart, without control... lusted to make his prey. Say, Uncle Gloucester, if my brother come... where shall we sojourn till our coronation? Where it thinks best unto your royal self. If I may counsel you... some day or two Your Highness shall repose you... at the Tower. Then where you please... and shall be thought most fit for your best health and recreation. I do not like the Tower... of any place. So wise so young, they say, do ne'er live long. Did Julius Caesar build that place, milord? He did, my gracious lord, begin that place. ThatJulius Caesar was a famous man. With what his valor did enrich his wit... his wit set down to make his valor live. Nay, for a need, thus far come near my person. Tell them that when my mother was with child - with my yet unborn brother- noble York, my princely father... then had wars in France... and by true computation of the time... found that the issue was not his begot... which well appeared in his lineaments, being nothing like the duke, my noble father. Yet, uh, touch this sparingly, as 'twere far off... because, my lord, you know, my mother lives. I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham. - What, my gracious lord? - An if I live until I be a man... I'll win our ancient rights in France again... or die a soldier, as I lived a king. Short summers lightly have a forward spring. Fear not, my lord, I'll play the orator... as if the golden fee for which I plead were for myself. If you thrive well, bring them to Baynard's Castle... where you shall find me well accompanied... with reverend fathers and well-learned bishops. Ah, in good time, here comes the duke of York. Richard of York. How fares our loving brother? Well, my dread lord - so must I call you now. Aye, Brother, to our grief, as it is yours. How fares our noble cousin, princely York? - [ Giggles ] - [ Laughing ] I thank you, gentle Uncle. Oh, my lord, you said that idle weeds are fast in growth. The prince my brother hath outgrown me far. - He hath, milord. - And therefore is he idle? - Oh, my dear lord, I must not say so. - Then he is more beholding to you than I. Ah, he may command me as my sovereign... but you have power in me as a kinsman. I pray you, Uncle, give me this dagger. My dagger, little cousin? With all my heart. - A beggar, Brother? - Of my kind uncle, that I know will give... and being but a toy, which is no grief to give. A greater gift than that I'll give my cousin. A greater gift? Oh, that's the sword to it. - Too weighty for Your Grace to wear. - I weigh it lightly, were it heavier. What, would you have my weapon, little lord? I would, that I might thank you as you call me. - How? - Little. My lord of York will still be cross in talk. Uncle, Your Grace knows how to bear with him. You mean to bear me, not to bear with me. - [ All Chuckle ] - Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me. Because that I am little, like an ape... he thinks that you should bear me on your shoulder! With what a sharp-provided wit he reasons! To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle, he prettily and aptly taunts himself. So cunning and so young is wonderful. My lord, will't please you pass along? Myself and my good cousin Buckingham will to your mother... to entreat of her to meet you at the Tower and welcome you. What, will you go unto the Tower, my lord? My Lord Protector needs will have it so. I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower. - Why, what should you fear? - Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost. My grandam told me he was murdered there. - I fear no uncles dead. - Nor none that live, I hope. And if they live, I hope I need not fear. But come, and with heavy hearts... thinking on them... go we unto the Tower. Well, let them rest. Now, my lord, what shall we do... if we perceive that the Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots? Chop off his head, man. Somewhat we will do. Come hither, Catesby. Thou art sworn as deeply to effect what we intend... as closely to conceal what we impart. Thou knowest our reasons urged upon the way. What thinkest thou? Is it not an easy matter... to make Lord Hastings of our mind... for the installment of this noble duke in the seat royal of this famous isle? He for the late king's sake so loves the prince... that he will not be won to aught against him. What think'st thou, then, of Stanley? What will he? He will do all in all as Hastings doth. Hmm. Well, then, no more but this. Go, gentle Catesby... and, as it were far off, sound thou Lord Hastings... how he stands affected unto our purpose... and summon him tomorrow to the Tower... to counsel on the coronation. If thou dost find him tractable to us, encourage him and show him all our reasons. If he be leaden, icy-cold, unwilling... be thou so too, and so break off your talk... and give us notice of his inclination. I will, my lord. Farewell, Your Graces both. Catesby... commend me to Lord Hastings. Tell him his ancient knot of dangerous adversaries... Lord Rivers and Lord Grey... tomorrow are let blood at Pomfret castle. And bid my friend, for joy of this good news... give Mistress Shore one gentle kiss the more. My lord. [ Whispers ] My lord. My lord. - Who knocks? - One from the Lord Stanley. - What is't o'clock? - Upon the stroke of 4:00. Cannot my Lord Stanley sleep these tedious nights? So it appears by that I have to say. First, he commends him to your noble self. - [ Soft Rattle ] - What then? Then certifies your lordship that this night he had a dream - the boar razed off his helm. Therefore he sends to know your lordship's pleasure... if you will presently take horse with him... and with all speed post with him toward the north... to shun the danger that his soul divines. Go, fellow, go, return unto thy lord. Tell him his fears are shallow, without instance. And for his dreams, I wonder he's so simple... to trust the mockery of unquiet slumbers. To fly the boar before the boar pursues... were to incense the boar to follow us... and make pursuit where he did mean no chase. Go, bid thy master rise and come to me... and we will both together to the Tower... where he shall see the boar will use us kindly. I'll go, my lord, and tell him what you say. How now, sirrah. - How goes the world with thee? - The better that your lordship please to ask. Many good morrows to my noble lord. Good morrow, Catesby. [ Chuckles ] You are early stirring. What news? What news, in this our tottering state? It is a reeling world indeed, my lord. And, uh... I believe will never stand upright... till Richard wear the garland of the realm. - How? Wear the garland? - Mm-hmm. - Dost thou mean the crown? - Aye, my good lord. I'll have this crown of mine cut from my shoulders... before I'll see the crown so foul misplaced. |
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