King Richard III(理查三世)

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KING RICHARD III

William Shakespeare

KING RICHARD III

ACT I.

KING RICHARD III

SCENE 1.

London. A street

Enter RICHARD, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, solus

GLOUCESTER. Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious

summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house

In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with

victorious wreaths; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern

alarums chang'd to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful

measures. Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front, And now,

instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,

He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

But I-that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous

looking-glass- I-that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty To strut

before a wanton ambling nymph- I-that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,

Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent

before my time Into this breathing world scarce half made up, And that so

lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them- Why, I,

in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time,

Unless to spy my shadow in the sun And descant on mine own deformity.

And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover To entertain these fair well-

spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain And hate the idle

pleasures of these days. Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, By

drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams, To set my brother Clarence and

the King In deadly hate the one against the other; And if King Edward be

as true and just As I am subtle, false, and treacherous, This day should

Clarence closely be mew'd up- About a prophecy which says that G Of

Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. Dive, thoughts, down to my soul.

Here Clarence comes.

Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY

Brother, good day. What means this armed guard That waits upon

your Grace? CLARENCE. His Majesty, Tend'ring my person's safety, hath

appointed This conduct to convey me to th' Tower. GLOUCESTER. Upon

what cause? CLARENCE. Because my name is George. GLOUCESTER.

KING RICHARD III

Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours: He should, for that, commit

your godfathers. O, belike his Majesty hath some intent That you should

be new-christ'ned in the Tower. But what's the matter, Clarence? May I

know? CLARENCE. Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest As yet I do

not; but, as I can learn, He hearkens after prophecies and dreams, And

from the cross-row plucks the letter G, And says a wizard told him that by

G His issue disinherited should be; And, for my name of George begins

with G, It follows in his thought that I am he. These, as I learn, and such

like toys as these Hath mov'd his Highness to commit me now.

GLOUCESTER. Why, this it is when men are rul'd by women: 'Tis not the

King that sends you to the Tower; My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis

she That tempers him to this extremity. Was it not she and that good man

of worship, Antony Woodville, her brother there, That made him send

Lord Hastings to the Tower, From whence this present day he is delivered?

We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe. CLARENCE. By heaven, I

think there is no man is secure But the Queen's kindred, and night-walking

heralds That trudge betwixt the King and Mistress Shore. Heard you not

what an humble suppliant Lord Hastings was, for her delivery?

GLOUCESTER. Humbly complaining to her deity Got my Lord

Chamberlain his liberty. I'll tell you what-I think it is our way, If we will

keep in favour with the King, To be her men and wear her livery: The

jealous o'er-worn widow, and herself, Since that our brother dubb'd them

gentlewomen, Are mighty gossips in our monarchy. BRAKENBURY. I

beseech your Graces both to pardon me: His Majesty hath straitly given in

charge That no man shall have private conference, Of what degree soever,

with your brother. GLOUCESTER. Even so; an't please your worship,

Brakenbury, You may partake of any thing we say: We speak no treason,

man; we say the King Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen Well

struck in years, fair, and not jealous; We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty

foot, A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; And that the

Queen's kindred are made gentlefolks. How say you, sir? Can you deny all

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

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

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

KING RICHARD III

BRAKENBURY. What one, my lord? GLOUCESTER. Her husband,

knave! Wouldst thou betray me? BRAKENBURY. I do beseech your

Grace to pardon me, and withal Forbear your conference with the noble

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

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

farewell; I will unto the King; And whatsoe'er you will employ me in-

Were it to call King Edward's widow sister- I will perform it to enfranchise

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

you can imagine. CLARENCE. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.

GLOUCESTER. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long; I will deliver

or else lie for you. Meantime, have patience. CLARENCE. I must perforce.

Farewell. Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and guard

GLOUCESTER. Go tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return. Simple,

plain Clarence, I do love thee so That I will shortly send thy soul to

heaven, If heaven will take the present at our hands. But who comes here?

The new-delivered Hastings?

Enter LORD HASTINGS

HASTINGS. Good time of day unto my gracious lord!

GLOUCESTER. As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain! Well are you

welcome to the open air. How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?

HASTINGS. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must; But I shall live,

my lord, to give them thanks That were the cause of my imprisonment.

GLOUCESTER. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; For they

that were your enemies are his, And have prevail'd as much on him as you.

HASTINGS. More pity that the eagles should be mew'd Whiles kites and

buzzards prey at liberty. GLOUCESTER. What news abroad? HASTINGS.

No news so bad abroad as this at home: The King is sickly, weak, and

melancholy, And his physicians fear him mightily. GLOUCESTER. Now,

by Saint John, that news is bad indeed. O, he hath kept an evil diet long

And overmuch consum'd his royal person! 'Tis very grievous to be thought

upon. Where is he? In his bed? HASTINGS. He is. GLOUCESTER. Go

you before, and I will follow you. Exit HASTINGS He cannot live, I hope,

and must not die Till George be pack'd with posthorse up to heaven. I'll in

to urge his hatred more to Clarence With lies well steel'd with weighty

KING RICHARD III

arguments; And, if I fail not in my deep intent, Clarence hath not another

day to live; Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy, And leave

the world for me to bustle in! For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest

daughter. What though I kill'd her husband and her father? The readiest

way to make the wench amends Is to become her husband and her father;

The which will I-not all so much for love As for another secret close intent

By marrying her which I must reach unto. But yet I run before my horse to

market. Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns; When they

are gone, then must I count my gains. Exit

KING RICHARD III

SCENE 2.

London. Another street

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

LADY ANNE being the mourner, attended by TRESSEL and BERKELEY

ANNE. Set down, set down your honourable load- If honour may be

shrouded in a hearse; Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament Th' untimely

fall of virtuous Lancaster. Poor key-cold figure of a holy king! Pale ashes

of the house of Lancaster! Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood! Be

it lawful that I invocate thy ghost To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,

Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son, Stabb'd by the self-same hand

that made these wounds. Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life I pour

the helpless balm of my poor eyes. O, cursed be the hand that made these

holes! Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it! Cursed the blood that let

this blood from hence! More direful hap betide that hated wretch That

makes us wretched by the death of thee Than I can wish to adders, spiders,

toads, Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives! If ever he have child,

abortive be it, Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, Whose ugly and

unnatural aspect May fright the hopeful mother at the view, And that be

heir to his unhappiness! If ever he have wife, let her be made More

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

Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, Taken from Paul's to be

interred there; And still as you are weary of this weight Rest you, whiles I

lament King Henry's corse. [The bearers take up the coffin]

Enter GLOUCESTER

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

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

charitable deeds? GLOUCESTER. Villains, set down the corse; or, by

Saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys! FIRST GENTLEMAN.

My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. GLOUCESTER. Unmannerd

dog! Stand thou, when I command. Advance thy halberd higher than my

breast, Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot And spurn upon thee,

beggar, for thy boldness. [The bearers set down the coffin] ANNE. What,

do you tremble? Are you all afraid? Alas, I blame you not, for you are

KING RICHARD III

mortal, And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil. Avaunt, thou dreadful

minister of hell! Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, His soul thou

canst not have; therefore, be gone. GLOUCESTER. Sweet saint, for

charity, be not so curst. ANNE. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence and

trouble us not; For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell Fill'd it with

cursing cries and deep exclaims. If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,

Behold this pattern of thy butcheries. O, gentlemen, see, see! Dead

Henry's wounds Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh. Blush,

blush, thou lump of foul deformity, For 'tis thy presence that exhales this

blood From cold and empty veins where no blood dwells; Thy deeds

inhuman and unnatural Provokes this deluge most unnatural. O God,

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

drink'st, revenge his death! Either, heav'n, with lightning strike the

murd'rer dead; Or, earth, gape open wide and eat him quick, As thou dost

swallow up this good king's blood, Which his hell-govern'd arm hath

butchered. GLOUCESTER. Lady, you know no rules of charity, Which

renders good for bad, blessings for curses. ANNE. Villain, thou knowest

nor law of God nor man: No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.

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

wonderful, when devils tell the truth! GLOUCESTER. More wonderful

when angels are so angry. Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, Of

these supposed crimes to give me leave By circumstance but to acquit

myself. ANNE. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, Of these known

evils but to give me leave By circumstance to accuse thy cursed self.

GLOUCESTER. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have Some

patient leisure to excuse myself. ANNE. Fouler than heart can think thee,

thou canst make No excuse current but to hang thyself. GLOUCESTER.

By such despair I should accuse myself. ANNE. And by despairing shalt

thou stand excused For doing worthy vengeance on thyself That didst

unworthy slaughter upon others. GLOUCESTER. Say that I slew them not?

ANNE. Then say they were not slain. But dead they are, and, devilish

slave, by thee. GLOUCESTER. I did not kill your husband. ANNE. Why,

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

hands. ANNE. In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw Thy

KING RICHARD III

murd'rous falchion smoking in his blood; The which thou once didst bend

against her breast, But that thy brothers beat aside the point.

GLOUCESTER. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue That laid their

guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. ANNE. Thou wast provoked by thy

bloody mind, That never dream'st on aught but butcheries. Didst thou not

kill this king? GLOUCESTER. I grant ye. ANNE. Dost grant me,

hedgehog? Then, God grant me to Thou mayst be damned for that wicked

deed! O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous! GLOUCESTER. The better

for the King of Heaven, that hath him. ANNE. He is in heaven, where thou

shalt never come. GLOUCESTER. Let him thank me that holp to send

him thither, For he was fitter for that place than earth. ANNE. And thou

unfit for any place but hell. GLOUCESTER. Yes, one place else, if you

will hear me name it. ANNE. Some dungeon. GLOUCESTER. Your bed-

chamber. ANNE. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest!

GLOUCESTER. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. ANNE. I hope so.

GLOUCESTER. I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, To leave this keen

encounter of our wits, And fall something into a slower method- Is not the

causer of the timeless deaths Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, As

blameful as the executioner? ANNE. Thou wast the cause and most

accurs'd effect. GLOUCESTER. Your beauty was the cause of that effect-

Your beauty that did haunt me in my sleep To undertake the death of all

the world So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. ANNE. If I

thought that, I tell thee, homicide, These nails should rend that beauty

from my cheeks. GLOUCESTER. These eyes could not endure that

beauty's wreck; You should not blemish it if I stood by. As all the world is

cheered by the sun, So I by that; it is my day, my life. ANNE. Black night

o'ershade thy day, and death thy life! GLOUCESTER. Curse not thyself,

fair creature; thou art both. ANNE. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee.

GLOUCESTER. It is a quarrel most unnatural, To be reveng'd on him that

loveth thee. ANNE. It is a quarrel just and reasonable, To be reveng'd on

him that kill'd my husband. GLOUCESTER. He that bereft thee, lady, of

thy husband Did it to help thee to a better husband. ANNE. His better doth

not breathe upon the earth. GLOUCESTER. He lives that loves thee better

than he could. ANNE. Name him. GLOUCESTER. Plantagenet. ANNE.

KING RICHARD III

Why, that was he. GLOUCESTER. The self-same name, but one of better

nature. ANNE. Where is he? GLOUCESTER. Here. [She spits at him]

Why dost thou spit at me? ANNE. Would it were mortal poison, for thy

sake! GLOUCESTER. Never came poison from so sweet a place. ANNE.

Never hung poison on a fouler toad. Out of my sight! Thou dost infect

mine eyes. GLOUCESTER. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.

ANNE. Would they were basilisks to strike thee dead! GLOUCESTER. I

would they were, that I might die at once; For now they kill me with a

living death. Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, Sham'd

their aspects with store of childish drops- These eyes, which never shed

remorseful tear, No, when my father York and Edward wept To hear the

piteous moan that Rutland made When black-fac'd Clifford shook his

sword at him; Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, Told the sad story

of my father's death, And twenty times made pause to sob and weep That

all the standers-by had wet their cheeks Like trees bedash'd with rain-in

that sad time My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; And what these

sorrows could not thence exhale 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 propos'd my fee, My

proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. [She looks scornfully

at him] 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. [He lays his breast open;

she offers at it with his sword] Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King

Henry- But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I

that stabb'd young Edward- But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on.

[She falls the sword] Take up the sword again, or take up me. ANNE.

Arise, dissembler; though I wish thy death, I will not be thy executioner.

GLOUCESTER. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it; ANNE. I have

already. GLOUCESTER. 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 accessary.

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KINGRICHARDIII1KINGRICHARDIIIWilliamShakespeareKINGRICHARDIII2ACTI.KINGRICHARDIII3SCENE1.London.AstreetEnterRICHARD,DUKEOFGLOUCESTER,solusGLOUCESTER.NowisthewinterofourdiscontentMadeglorioussummerbythissunofYork;Andallthecloudsthatlour'duponourhouseInthedeepbosomoftheoceanburied.Nowareourbrowsboundw...

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