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Main Project Page |
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| Plot Overview |
Who's Who |
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Act I |
Narrator |
Audience |
Scene 1: London. A
street
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Welcome, all you Will-loving R3 fans, to the
Rotunda at Hinckley, where tonight, for your DELECTATION, for your
GRATIFICATION, for your EDIFICATION, for your SHAKESPEARIFICATION, we will
perform Will's Richard III, for the audience, to the audience, BY THE
AUDIENCE!
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WHEN is the winter of our discontent?
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GLOUCESTER: Now is the winter of our
discontent |
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| Made
glorious summer by this sun of
York; |
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[put on sunglasses] |
| And all
the clouds that lour'd upon our house |
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| In the
deep bosom of the ocean buried. |
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WHEN were our brows
bound? |
| Now are
our brows bound with victorious wreaths; |
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| Our
bruised arms hung up for monuments; |
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| Our
stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, |
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| Our
dreadful marches to delightful measures. |
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| Grim-visag'd
war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; |
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| And
now,-instead of mounting barbed steeds |
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| To
fright the souls of fearful adversaries,- |
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| He
capers nimbly in a lady's chamber |
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| To the
lascivious pleasing of a lute. |
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Piano! Bagpipes!
Euphonium! |
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I,-that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, |
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Pick a card! |
| Nor made
to court an amorous looking-glass; |
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| I, that
am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty |
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[stamp] |
| To strut
before a wanton ambling nymph; |
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| I, that
am curtail'd of this fair proportion, |
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| Cheated
of feature by dissembling nature, |
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| Deform'd,
unfinish'd, sent before my time |
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| Into
this breathing world scarce half made up, |
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| And that
so lamely and unfashionable |
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| That
dogs bark at me as I halt by them;- |
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[bark] |
| Why, I,
in this weak piping time of peace, |
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| Have no
delight to pass away the time, |
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| Unless
to spy my shadow in the sun, |
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| And
descant on mine own deformity: |
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| And
therefore,-since I cannot prove a lover, |
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| To
entertain these fair well-spoken days,- |
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| I am
determined to prove a villain, |
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| And hate
the idle pleasures of these days. |
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| Plots
have I laid, inductions dangerous, |
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| By
drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams, |
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| To set
my brother
Clarence and the king |
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| In
deadly hate the one against the other: |
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| And if
King Edward be as true and just |
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| As I am
subtle, false, and treacherous, |
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| This day
should Clarence closely be mew'd up,- |
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| About a
prophecy which says that G |
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| Of
Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. |
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| Dive,
thoughts, down to my soul:-here Clarence comes. |
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[Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and
BRAKENBURY.] |
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| Brother,
good day: what means this armed guard |
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| That
waits upon your grace? |
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CLARENCE: His majesty, |
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Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed |
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| This
conduct to convey me to the Tower. |
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GLOUCESTER: Upon what cause? |
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CLARENCE: Because my name is
George. |
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GLOUCESTER: Alack, my lord, that
fault is none of yours; |
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| He
should, for that, commit your godfathers:- |
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| O,
belike his majesty hath some intent |
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| That you
should be new-christen'd in the Tower. |
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| But
what's the matter, Clarence? may I know? |
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CLARENCE: Yea,
Richard, when I know; for I protest |
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| As yet I
do not: but, as I can learn, |
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| He
hearkens after prophecies and dreams; |
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| And from
the cross-row plucks the letter G, |
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| And says
a wizard told him that by G |
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| His
issue disinherited should be; |
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Gloucester begins with
G, dummy! |
| And, for
my name of George begins with G, |
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| It
follows in his thought that I am he. |
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| These,
as I learn, and such like toys as these, |
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| Hath
mov'd his highness to commit me now. |
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GLOUCESTER: Why, this it is when men
are rul'd by women:- |
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| 'Tis not
the king that sends you to the Tower; |
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| My Lady
Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she |
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| That
tempers him to this extremity. |
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| Was it
not she and that good man of worship, |
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| Antony
Woodville, her brother there, |
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| That
made him send
Lord Hastings to the Tower, |
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| From
whence this present day he is deliver'd? |
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| We are
not safe, Clarence; we are not safe. |
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CLARENCE: By heaven, I think
there is no man is secure |
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| But the
queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds |
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| That
trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore. |
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| Heard
you not what an humble suppliant |
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| Lord
Hastings was for her delivery? |
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GLOUCESTER: Humbly complaining to
her deity |
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| Got my
Lord Chamberlain his liberty. |
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| I'll
tell you what,-I think it is our way, |
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| If we
will keep in favour with the king, |
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| To be
her men and wear her livery: |
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The jealous o'er-worn widow, and herself, |
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| Since
that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen, |
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| Are
mighty gossips in our monarchy. |
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BRAKENBURY: I beseech your graces
both to pardon me; |
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| His
majesty hath straitly given in charge |
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| That no
man shall have private conference, |
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| Of what
degree soever, with your brother. |
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GLOUCESTER: Even so; an't please
your worship, Brakenbury, |
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| You may
partake of any thing we say: |
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| We speak
no treason, man;-we say the king |
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| Is wise
and virtuous; and his noble queen |
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| Well
struck in years, fair, and not jealous;- |
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| We say
that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot, |
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| A cherry
lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; |
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| And that
the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks: |
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| How say
you, sir? can you deny all this? |
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BRAKENBURY: With this, my lord,
myself have naught to do. |
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GLOUCESTER: Naught to do with
Mistress Shore! I tell thee, fellow, |
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| He that
doth naught with her, excepting one, |
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| Were
best to do it secretly alone. |
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BRAKENBURY: What one, my lord? |
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GLOUCESTER: Her husband,
knave:-wouldst thou betray me? |
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BRAKENBURY: I do beseech your
grace to pardon me; and, withal, |
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| Forbear
your conference with the noble duke. |
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CLARENCE: We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. |
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GLOUCESTER: We are the queen's
abjects and must obey.- |
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| Brother,
farewell: I will unto the king; |
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| And
whatsoe'er you will employ me in,- |
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| Were it
to call King Edward's widow sister,- |
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| I will
perform it to enfranchise you. |
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Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood |
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| Touches
me deeper than you can imagine. |
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CLARENCE: I know it pleaseth
neither of us well. |
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GLOUCESTER: Well, your imprisonment
shall not be long; |
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| I will
deliver or else lie for you: |
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Meantime, have patience. |
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CLARENCE: I must perforce:
farewell. |
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| [Exeunt CLARENCE,
BRAKENBURY, and
guard.] |
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GLOUCESTER: Go tread the path that
thou shalt ne'er return. |
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| Simple,
plain Clarence!-I do love thee so |
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| That I
will shortly send thy soul to heaven, |
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| If
heaven will take the present at our hands.- |
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| But who
comes here? The new-delivered Hastings? |
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[Enter HASTINGS.]
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HASTINGS: Good time of day unto
my gracious lord! |
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GLOUCESTER: As much unto my good
Lord Chamberlain! |
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| Well are
you welcome to the open air. |
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| How hath
your lordship brook'd imprisonment? |
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HASTINGS: With patience, noble
lord, as prisoners must; |
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| But I
shall live, my lord, to give them thanks |
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| That
were the cause of my imprisonment. |
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GLOUCESTER: No doubt, no doubt; and
so shall Clarence too; |
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| For they
that were your enemies are his, |
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| And have
prevail'd as much on him as you. |
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HASTINGS: More pity that the
eagles should be mew'd |
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| Whiles
kites and buzzards prey at liberty. |
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GLOUCESTER: What news abroad? |
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HASTINGS: No news so bad abroad
as this at home,- |
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| The king
is sickly, weak, and melancholy, |
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| And his
physicians fear him mightily. |
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GLOUCESTER: Now, by Saint Paul, that
news is bad indeed. |
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| O, he
hath kept an evil diet long, |
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| And
overmuch consum'd his royal person: |
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| 'Tis
very grievous to be thought upon. |
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| What, is
he in his bed? |
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HASTINGS: He is. |
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GLOUCESTER: Go you before, and I
will follow you. |
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| [Exit HASTINGS.]
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| He
cannot live, I hope; and must not die |
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| Till
George be pack'd with posthorse up to heaven. |
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| I'll in,
to urge his hatred more to Clarence |
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| With
lies well steel'd with weighty arguments; |
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| And, if
I fail not in my deep intent, |
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| Clarence
hath not another day to live; |
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| Which
done, God take King Edward to his mercy, |
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| And
leave the world for me to bustle in! |
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| For then
I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter: |
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| What
though I kill'd her husband and her father? |
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| The
readiest way to make the wench amends |
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| Is to
become her husband and her father: |
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| The
which will I; not all so much for love |
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| As for
another secret close intent, |
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| By
marrying her, which I must reach unto. |
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| But yet
I run before my horse to market: |
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| Clarence
still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns: |
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| When
they are gone, then must I count my gains. |
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[Exit.] |
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