The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 227

[Stabs him]

GLOUCESTER. Sprawl'st thou? Take that, to end thy agony.

[Stabs him]

CLARENCE. And there's for twitting me with perjury.

[Stabs him]

QUEEN MARGARET. O, kill me too!

GLOUCESTER. Marry, and shall. [Offers to kill her]

KING EDWARD. Hold, Richard, hold; for we have done to much.

GLOUCESTER. Why should she live to fill the world with words?

KING EDWARD. What, doth she swoon? Use means for her recovery.

GLOUCESTER. Clarence, excuse me to the King my brother.

I'll hence to London on a serious matter; Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news.

CLARENCE. What? what?

GLOUCESTER. The Tower! the Tower! Exit QUEEN MARGARET. O Ned, sweet Ned, speak to thy mother, boy!

Canst thou not speak? O traitors! murderers!

They that stabb'd Caesar shed no blood at all, Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame, If this foul deed were by to equal it.

He was a man: this, in respect, a child; And men ne'er spend their fury on a child.

What's worse than murderer, that I may name it?

No, no, my heart will burst, an if I speak- And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.

Butchers and villains! b.l.o.o.d.y cannibals!

How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd!

You have no children, butchers, if you had, The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorse.

But if you ever chance to have a child, Look in his youth to have him so cut off As, deathsmen, you have rid this sweet young prince!

KING EDWARD. Away with her; go, bear her hence perforce.

QUEEN MARGARET. Nay, never bear me hence; dispatch me here.

Here sheathe thy sword; I'll pardon thee my death.

What, wilt thou not? Then, Clarence, do it thou.

CLARENCE. By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease.

QUEEN MARGARET. Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.

CLARENCE. Didst thou not hear me swear I would not do it?

QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself.

'Twas sin before, but now 'tis charity.

What! wilt thou not? Where is that devil's butcher, Hard-favour'd Richard? Richard, where art thou?

Thou art not here. Murder is thy alms-deed; Pet.i.tioners for blood thou ne'er put'st back.

KING EDWARD. Away, I say; I charge ye bear her hence.

QUEEN MARGARET. So come to you and yours as to this prince.

Exit, led out forcibly KING EDWARD. Where's Richard gone?

CLARENCE. To London, all in post; and, as I guess, To make a b.l.o.o.d.y supper in the Tower.

KING EDWARD. He's sudden, if a thing comes in his head.

Now march we hence. Discharge the common sort With pay and thanks; and let's away to London And see our gentle queen how well she fares.

By this, I hope, she hath a son for me. Exeunt

SCENE VI.

London. The Tower

Enter KING HENRY and GLOUCESTER with the LIEUTENANT, on the walls

GLOUCESTER. Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard?

KING HENRY. Ay, my good lord- my lord, I should say rather.

'Tis sin to flatter; 'good' was little better.

'Good Gloucester' and 'good devil' were alike, And both preposterous; therefore, not 'good lord.'

GLOUCESTER. Sirrah, leave us to ourselves; we must confer.

Exit LIEUTENANT KING HENRY. So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf; So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece, And next his throat unto the butcher's knife.

What scene of death hath Roscius now to act?

GLOUCESTER. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind: The thief doth fear each bush an officer.

KING HENRY. The bird that hath been limed in a bush With trembling wings mis...o...b..eth every bush; And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird, Have now the fatal object in my eye Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught, and kill'd.

GLOUCESTER. Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete That taught his son the office of a fowl!

And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown'd.

KING HENRY. I, Daedalus; my poor boy, Icarus; Thy father, Minos, that denied our course; The sun that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy, Thy brother Edward; and thyself, the sea Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life.

Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words!

My breast can better brook thy dagger's point Than can my ears that tragic history.

But wherefore dost thou come? Is't for my life?

GLOUCESTER. Think'st thou I am an executioner?

KING HENRY. A persecutor I am sure thou art.

If murdering innocents be executing, Why, then thou are an executioner.

GLOUCESTER. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption.

KING HENRY. Hadst thou been kill'd when first thou didst presume, Thou hadst not liv'd to kill a son of mine.

And thus I prophesy, that many a thousand Which now mistrust no parcel of my fear, And many an old man's sigh, and many a widow's, And many an orphan's water-standing eye- Men for their sons, wives for their husbands, Orphans for their parents' timeless death- Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born.

The owl shriek'd at thy birth- an evil sign; The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time; Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempest shook down trees; The raven rook'd her on the chimney's top, And chatt'ring pies in dismal discords sung; Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope, To wit, an indigest deformed lump, Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree.

Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast born, To signify thou cam'st to bite the world; And if the rest be true which I have heard, Thou cam'st- GLOUCESTER. I'll hear no more. Die, prophet, in thy speech.

[Stabs him]

For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd.

KING HENRY. Ay, and for much more slaughter after this.

O, G.o.d forgive my sins and pardon thee! [Dies]

GLOUCESTER. What, will the aspiring blood of Lancaster Sink in the ground? I thought it would have mounted.

See how my sword weeps for the poor King's death.

O, may such purple tears be always shed From those that wish the downfall of our house!

If any spark of life be yet remaining, Down, down to h.e.l.l; and say I sent thee thither- [Stabs him again]

I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.

Indeed, 'tis true that Henry told me of; For I have often heard my mother say I came into the world with my legs forward.

Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right?

The midwife wonder'd; and the women cried 'O, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!'

And so I was, which plainly signified That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog.

Then, since the heavens have shap'd my body so, Let h.e.l.l make crook'd my mind to answer it.

I have no brother, I am like no brother; And this word 'love,' which greybeards call divine, Be resident in men like one another, And not in me! I am myself alone.

Clarence, beware; thou keep'st me from the light, But I will sort a pitchy day for thee; For I will buzz abroad such prophecies That Edward shall be fearful of his life; And then to purge his fear, I'll be thy death.

King Henry and the Prince his son are gone.

Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest; Counting myself but bad till I be best.

I'll throw thy body in another room, And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom.

Exit with the body

SCENE VII.

London. The palace