THE LIFE AND DEATH

OF

KING RICHARD III.

VOL. IV.

KING EDWARD THE FOURTH.
EDWARD, Prince of Wales, after-

wards KING EDWARD V.

RICHARD, Duke of York,

GEORGE, Duke of Clarence,

Sons to the KING.

RICHARD, Duke of Gloster, after-Brothers to the KING. wards KING RICHARD III.

A Young Son of Clarence.

HENRY, Earl of Richmond, afterwards KING HENRY VII.
CARDINAL BOUCHIER, Archbishop of Canterbury.
THOMAS ROTHERAM, Archbishop of York.

JOHN MORTON, Bishop of Ely.

DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

DUKE OF NORFOLK.

EARL OF SURREY, his Son.

EARL RIVERS, Brother to KING EDWARD'S Queen.
MARQUIS OF DORSET and LORD GREY, her Sons.
EARL OF Oxford.

LORD HASTINGS.

LORD STANLEY.
LORD LOVEL.

SIR THOMAS VAUGHAN.
SIR RICHARD RATCLIFF.

SIR WILLIAM CATESBY.
SIR JAMES TYRREL.
SIR JAMES BLOUNT.

SIR WALTER HERBERT.

SIR ROBERT BRAKENBURY, Lieutenant of the Tower.
CHRISTOPHER URSWICK, a Priest. Another Priest.
Lord Mayor of London. Sheriff of Wiltshire.

ELIZABETH, Queen to KING EDWARD IV.

MARGARET, Widow to KING HENRY VI.

DUCHESS OF YORK, Mother to KING EDWARD IV., CLARENCE, and GLOSTER.

LADY ANNE, Widow to EDWARD, Prince of Wales, Son to KING HENRY VI.; afterwards married to the DUKE OF GLOSTER.

A Young Daughter of Clarence.

Lords, and other Attendants; two Gentlemen, a Pursuivant, Scrivener, Citizens, Murderers, Messengers, Ghosts, Soldiers, &c.

SCENE,-ENGLAND.

THE LIFE AND DEATH

ОР

KING RICHARD III.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-LONDON. A Street.

Enter GLOSTER.

Glo. Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lower'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?

Clar.

His majesty,

Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed
This conduct to convey me to the Tower.

:

Glo. Upon what cause?
Clar.
Because my name is George.
Glo. 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.

These, as I learn, and such like toys as these,

Have mov'd his highness to commit me now.

Glo. 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,