Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree.

Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast born,
To signify thou camest to bite the world:

And, if the rest be true which I have heard,

Thou camest

Glou. I'll hear no more: die, prophet, in thy speech.

[Stabs him.

For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd.
K. Hen. Ay, and for much more slaughter after this.
O God! forgive my sins, and pardon thee !
Glou. 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 alway shed

From those that wish the downfall of our house!
If any spark of life be yet remaining,

Down, down to hell; and say I sent thee thither :

[Dies.

[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 shaped my body so,
Let hell 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 buz 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.

Flourish. Enter King Edward, Queen Elizabeth, Clarence,
Gloucester, Hastings, a Nurse with the young Prince, and
Attendants.

K. Edw. Once more we sit in England's royal throne,
Re-purchased with the blood of enemies.

What valiant foemen, like to autumn's corn,
Have we mow'd down in tops of all their pride!
Three Dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd
For hardy and undoubted champions;

Two Cliffords, as the father and the son;
And two Northumberlands; two braver men

Ne'er spurr'd their coursers at the trumpet's sound:

With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and Montague,

That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion,

And made the forest tremble when they roar'd.
Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat,
And made our footstool of security.

Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy.
Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles and myself
Have in our armours watch'd the winter's night,
Went all afoot in summer's scalding heat,

That thou mightst repossess the crown in peace:
And of our labours thou shalt reap the gain.

Glou. [Aside] I'll blast his harvest, if your head were laid;
For yet I am not look'd on in the world.

This shoulder was ordain'd so thick to heave;

And heave it shall some weight, or break my back:

Work thou the way,—and thou shalt execute.

K. Edw. Clarence and Gloucester, love my lovely queen;
And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both.

Clar. The duty that I owe unto your majesty

I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe.

Q. Eliz. Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy brother, thanks.
Glou. And, that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st.
Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit.

[Aside] To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his master,
And cried, 'all hail!' when as he meant all harm.
K. Edw. Now am I seated as my soul delights,
Having my country's peace and brothers' loves.
Clar. What will your grace have done with Margaret ?
Reignier, her father, to the King of France

Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem,

And hither have they sent it for her ransom.

K. Edw. Away with her, and waft her hence to France.
And now what rests but that we spend the time
With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows,
Such as befits the pleasure of the court?
Sound drums and trumpets! farewell sour annoy
For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.

[Exeunt

ELIZABETH, queen to King Edward IV.
MARGARET, widow of King Henry VI.
DUCHESS OF YORK, mother to King
Edward IV.

LADY ANNE, widow of Edward Prince of
Wales, son to King Henry VI.; after.
wards married to Richard.

A young daughter of Clarence (MARGARET
PLANTAGENET).

Ghosts of those murdered by Richard III., Lords and other Attendants, a Pursuivant, Scrivener, Citizens, Murderers, Messengers, Soldiers, &c.

SCENE-England.

ACT I-SCENE I

London. A street.

Enter Richard, Duke of Gloucester, solus.

Glou. 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 alarms changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

Grim-visaged 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 shaped 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 lain, 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?

Clar.

His majesty,

Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed
This conduct to convey me to the Tower.
Glou. Upon what cause?

Clar.
Because my name is George.
Glou. 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 shall be new-christen'd in the Tower.
But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know?
Clar. 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.