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 List of Characters King Edward IV Edward IV

The eldest son of Richard Duke of York, Edward fought alongside his father and brothers throughout the campaigns against Henry VI, and was named as second in line to the throne after the 1460 Act of Accord, after his father. When Richard of York died at the battle of Wakefield, Edward pressed his claim and took power after a resounding victory at the battle of Towton on 29 March 1461, at the age of 19. He ruled for almost a decade before being overthrown for Henry VI in 1470, but reclaimed his throne permanently after the decisive battle of Tewkesbury, which saw Henry and the prince of Wales imprisoned, where they conveniently died. The events of this play are compacted greatly, as Edward ruled for another twelve years before his death in 1483. He successfully invaded France and was by all accounts a lusty king (which included his well-known relationship with Jane Shore), but he was in ill health in his final years, as depicted in his few scenes in this play and in Shakespeare.

 Mother Queen Mother Queen

Elizabeth Woodville is never referred to by name throughout this play, but only as the Mother Queen (and once as Queen Mother). Elizabeth was queen consort to Edward IV from 1464 until his death in 1483, and bore him ten children. Elizabeth’s family connections, however, undermined her authority, as Edward’s brothers, Clarence and Gloucester, mistrusted the motivations of what they saw to be a minor house rising to power by their connection to Elizabeth. Gloucester had Elizabeth’s marriage to Edward annulled (and their children made illegitimate) by his 1483 Titulus Regius declaration that Edward had been pre-contracted to marry Lady Eleanor Talbot, thus allowing him to take power. Despite these setbacks, Elizabeth survived her husband by more than a decade, and proved a tenacious and fierce protector of her children (ODNB).

 King Edward V Edward V

The eldest of the princes in the Tower, Edward V was acclaimed king of England on his father’s death, and named as heir in Edward IV’s will, but with the proviso that, given his minority, that he submit to the protectorship of Richard of Gloucester. After being taken from his Woodville uncles on the way to London, Edward was held in the Tower, ostensibly to prepare for his coronation, but after his younger brother (next in line for the throne) joined him from Sanctuary, neither boy was seen again. They are presumed to have been murdered.

 Richard, Duke of York Duke of York

The second of the princes in the Tower, Richard of Shrewsbury, Duke of York, was the sixth child to Edward IV and queen Elizabeth, and is presumed to have died at around nine years of age, alongside his brother on command of Richard III. After Edward was named king, Richard was then named Heir Presumptive, making it important for Gloucester to deal with both boys at once. In 1485, a pretender named Perkin Warbeck claimed to be Richard of York in attempting to claim the throne, but he was easily subdued. The Duke of York’s role is very small in both this play and in Shakespeare, and would have been played by one of the youngest boys in the company, and doubled with Truth and the epilogue messenger.

 Princess Elizabeth Elizabeth

Elizabeth of York was queen consort to Henry VII after his victory at Bosworth, a union that was the crucial element in Richmond’s claim for reunifying the houses of York and Lancaster. While Elizabeth was disinherited under Richard’s 1483 Titulus Regius proclamation, this did not dissuade political suitors who saw the value in Elizabeth’s lineage. Elizabeth plays a larger role in this play than she does in Shakespeare, appearing long before her mother to preside over Edward IV’s death, and, crucially, delivering her part in the epilogue, underlining the family heritage in her role as Elizabeth I’s grandmother.

 Earl Rivers Rivers

Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers, was the elder brother to Elizabeth, queen consort, and Katherine, wife to Buckingham. Rivers fought on the side of the Lancastrians at the battle of Towton, but changed his loyalties to the Yorkist side not long before his sister married the future king Edward IV. Rivers’s influence at court grew greatly after his sister’s rise to queen, culminating in his appointment to the governorship of the prince of Wales’s household at Ludlow. When Edward IV died, Rivers was commanded to bring the young king to London, but was intercepted on the way by Gloucester and Buckingham, who accused him of treason. Rivers was executed without trial at Pontefract Castle in Wakefield on 25 June 1483, alongside his nephew, Sir Richard Grey.

 Lord Marquess Dorset Dorset

Thomas Grey, marquess of Dorset, was Elizabeth Woodville’s eldest son from her prior marriage. He is brother to Sir Richard Grey, executed later by Gloucester at Pontefract Castle. Wilson notes the curious fact that Grey is referred to as the young king’s uncle, when he is really his half-brother (Wilson 302). This error then carries over into Shakespeare where Grey is again called the young king’s uncle.

 Lord Grey Grey

Sir Richard Grey was son to Elizabeth Woodville from her first marriage to Sir John Grey of Groby. He was an influential figure in the reign of Edward IV and enjoyed preferment due to his mother’s new position. Grey was one of the lords charged with bringing the young king, Edward V, to London for his coronation, in a group that was intercepted by Gloucester and Buckingham. Grey, along with his uncle, Anthony Woodville, earl Rivers, was executed without trial at Pontefract Castle on 25 June 1483, charged with treason.

 Hastings Hastings

William Hastings, the first baron Hastings, was a close advisor and friend to Edward IV and served as lord chamberlain until his death. Hastings was married to Katherine Neville, daughter of the kingmaker, the earl of Warwick, who supported the claim of Henry VI. Despite this, Hastings remained staunchly loyal to Edward IV throughout his brief exile of 1470-71, and proved himself a man in whom Edward could place his entire trust. Despite this, Hastings reputedly shared a bed with Elizabeth (Jane) Shore, the king’s favorite mistress: this relationship is dramatized in this play () and is mentioned disparagingly in Shakespeare (R3 3.5.51). Hastings’ love for Edward IV did not extend to Edward’s wife’s family, and, as dramatized in this play (), his rivalry with Dorset signalled both a general mistrust and perhaps a territorial claim over Shore’s wife, with whom Dorset also dallied. Hastings was executed for treason due to his refusal to consider overlooking Edward V for the throne (ODNB). His relationship with Shore’s wife was noted as further evidence of his untrustworthiness, and his dramatic arrest is specifically dramatized in both this play () and in Shakespeare (R3 3.4.72–73).

 Vaughan Vaughan

Sir Thomas Vaughan saw action on both sides of the wars of the roses, but ultimately pledged his loyalty to Edward IV and became a trusted member of his household. Vaughan was arrested along with Grey, Rivers, and Haute in Stony-Stratford, accused of treason, and was summarily executed at Pontefract. Vaughan also appears in Shakespeare’s R3 but is silent until he speaks as a ghost during Richard’s nightmare (R3 5.4.121–122).

 Haute Haute

The Q text lists this character as Hapce, which is retained through all reprints, including Barron Field’s edition, but this is a clear corruption of Haute. There were two Richard Hautes active at this time, both with links to the court through their family connection to the Woodville faction. It is most likely that this Haute is the younger of the two, who was appointed to the household of the prince of Wales at Ludlow in 1473, and which explains his presence with the young king’s train. Sir Richard Haute was arrested alongside Grey, Vaughan, and Rivers in Stony-Stratford (as depicted in this play at ), but unlike his compatriots, he managed to escape execution and lived until 1492 (ODNB). As Churchill (407) notes, Haute is mentioned only in Hall’s chronicle, which further confirms the playwright’s use of this source.

 Shore’s wife Shore’s Wife

Elizabeth Shore (erroneously renamed Jane in the popular tradition by Heywood) has one of her earliest dramatic appearances in this play. As a mistress to, variously, Edward IV, Lord Hastings, and Dorset, Shore’s notoriety has afforded her a rich cameo in the annals of the late Yorkist and early Tudor eras. Shore’s wife appears prominently in Heywood’s Edward IV plays (1599) and Rowe’s The Tragedy of Jane Shore (1714), as well as many ballads, broadsides, and poems. She garners reference in Shakespeare’s Richard III as an unseen character accused of the corruption of Edward IV and Hastings, as well as witchcraft, but given her prominent role in The True Tragedy, it is curious that she is essentially excised from Shakespeare’s narrative.

 Richard Richard

Richard of Gloucester was the youngest son of Richard duke of York, and after the death of his brother, Edward IV, and disappearance of his nephew, Edward V, he rose to a brief two-year period as king Richard III of England. Richard’s appearance in this play is a precursor to Shakespeare’s more famous interpretation, and his fixation on his immortality after death is not carried over. Fleischer notes that the traditional connection between Richard’s outward deformity and his inner malevolence is a Shakespearean concept (83), and this is reflected in the insecure Richard much more given to self-doubt than hyperbole. Richard’s physical deformation, which has become the central image for the character since Shakespeare, is mentioned only in passing in The True Tragedy: initially by Truth (), later by Richard himself in his accusation of Shore’s wife (, and for the last time in reference to Richmond (). In no other point is Richard characterized by his deformity.

 Buckingham Buckingham

Henry Stafford, duke of Buckingham, held a tenuous claim to the English throne through his lineage which he could trace to Thomas of Woodstock. As a child, Buckingham was married to Elizabeth Woodville’s sister, Katherine, which was completed soon after Elizabeth married Edward IV, and was passed into Elizabeth’s care. After Henry VI regained the throne in 1470–1471, Buckingham left the queen’s household, and after Edward IV’s victory at the battle of Tewkesbury, became a key appointee in the king’s retinue, although within several years had fallen into disfavour. Buckingham’s long-standing relationship with the Woodvilles made him a natural ally for the queen and foe for Richard of Gloucester, although once Edward IV died, Buckingham quickly saw the benefit to supporting Richard. It is unclear as to why Buckingham turned on Richard in the ill-fated Buckingham’s Rebellion of 1483, but as both Shakespeare and The True Tragedy playwright suggest, it may have been associated with unhappiness over favor. Buckingham was executed without trial in November 1483, and plays a major role as a close advisor to Richard in both Shakespeare’s play and this one.

 Catesby Catesby

Sir William Catesby was a close councillor to Richard of Gloucester and served as speaker of parliament up until his execution following the battle of Bosworth. His role in this play is smaller than Shakespeare makes it; in this play he is dull-witted and peripherally seen. Shakespeare expands his role (and Cibber expands it further) to turn Catesby into a meddling force, active in Richard’s ascent. In the Q text, Catesby is noted as appearing in a scene to arrest the duke of York, as servant to the Archbishop of York, but this is likely a scribal error.

 Viscount Lovell Lovell

Francis Lovell, 1st Viscount Lovell, was Chamberlain in Richard III’s household as well as being a close advisor. He appears only briefly in this play as a messenger and servant; in Shakespeare his role is significantly larger. Lovell was one of the advisors specifically mentioned in William Collingbourne’s treasonous poem about Richard III (Lovell our dog, Holinshed 6.422), and it is claimed that he was Richard’s best friend (Ross 159). Lovell survived Bosworth (despite being listed among the dead) and proved a nuisance for Henry VII, supporting the rebellion of Lambert Simnel at the battle of Stoke Field in June 1487, and later escaped into Scotland. A tradition grew that his was the skeleton discovered in a secret chamber in Minster Lovell in 1708, but this is unlikely true (ODNB).

 Archbishop of York Archbishop

There is some disagreement about the identity of this archbishop, given that he is described as the Archbishop of York and afforded the speech prefix of Cardinal. While it is possible for an archbishop to be Cardinal, the archbishop of York at this time, Thomas Rotherham, was not a cardinal. Greg notes that the archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Bourchier, was a cardinal, and that the use of the term was a likely mix-up (1929, xi). Further, Churchill notes that Hall and the Harding continuator both erroneously refer to the archbishop of Canterbury in this context, while More, Grafton, and Holinshed note the archbishop of York (407), which may shed further light on the confusion. There is no doubt that this refers to the archbishop of York: Rotherham officiated as part of the funeral processions for Edward IV and was recorded by More as delivering the Great Seal of authority to Elizabeth Woodville in Sanctuary, before reclaiming it again (18–19). The archbishop was conflicted in his loyalty to the old king and the new, much as is depicted in this play.

 Earl of Richmond Richmond

Henry Tudor, earl of Richmond was the final Lancastrian claimant for the throne, but as a youthful exile in Brittany, he was not taken seriously by either Edward IV or Richard III until it was too late. Richmond claimed the throne through his father’s relation (half-brother) to Henry VI and his mother’s ancestry to Edward III through John of Gaunt, and enjoyed the military support of both Brittany and France in his attempts on England. As part of Buckingham’s rebellion (1483), Richmond attempted to land in England, but an unexpected storm scattered Richmond’s fleet and Buckingham’s land forces, effectively ending the threat. His second attempt at landing, in Milford Haven, is dramatized in this play and came after his public declaration of his intent to marry the Yorkist princess Elizabeth, to unite the feuding houses. Richmond only appears in three scenes at the end of this play, but is obviously a very important historical figure as grandfather to Elizabeth I.

 Lord Stanley Stanley

Thomas, lord Stanley, is now famous for what he did (or did not do) on the battlefield at Bosworth. As dramatized both in this play and in Shakespeare, Stanley was asked by both Richard III and Richmond for his military support, which was considerable: collating multiple sources, Foard and Curry peg Stanley’s military contribution at between 3,000 and 26,000 troops (39). Manley notes, however, that both in this play and in the historical record, it is not clear whether Stanley fought on the side of Richmond or if he merely refused to help Richard (170). Stanley was Richmond’s stepfather but they were not well acquainted, and there is extensive evidence that his contribution was not nearly as heroic as the Queen’s Men claim (Manley and MacLean 26). As Manley suggests, this play was written based on sources and patronage interests that elevated the Stanley contribution (173).

 Pierre Landais Landais

Named in the Q text as Peter Landois/Landoys. Pierre Landais was a Breton politician who served as advisor to the Duke of Brittany, Francis II. While Landais was involved in early negotiations for the surrender of Henry Tudor, he eventually changed his loyalty to Richmond, which assisted in the future Henry VII’s accession to the throne but sealed his own fate in the eyes of Francis II. His appearance in this play is anachronistic, as he never made the journey to England with Richmond, and in fact was hanged for sedition in France in July 1485 (ODNB). As Wilson notes (300), Landais’ appearance in this play appears to be indebted to Hall’s Chronicle: Wherfore, with all diligence, he furthe Peter Landoyse, his chief Threasorer, commaundyng hym to intercept and staie, the Erie of Richemond, in all hast possible. Peter not sluggyng, nor dreamyng his bust nes: came to the Englishe Ambassadors to. S. Malos, there abiding the wynde. And firste inuetited a cause of his commyng, and kepte witli theim a long communicacion, to pertracte the tyme, till his men in themeane season, had conueighed therle (ahnoste halfe clecl) into a sure Sanctuary, within the toune, whit-he in nowise m’ght bee violated : where he beyng deliuered from the continual feare ofdredful death, recouered hys health, and in good plight was brought to the duke. (323–324)

 Sir James Blount Blount

Sir James Blount assisted in Henry Tudor’s invasion of England after turning away from Richard III, freeing his prisoner, John de Vere, Earl of Oxford, to join the cause. He was knighted by Richmond on their landing at Milford Haven, and survived the Battle of Bosworth. He died peacefully in 1492. (ODNB)

 Earl of Oxford Oxford

John de Vere, 12th Earl of Oxford, was a Lancastrian sympathiser jailed by Edward IV for his schemes alongside Clarence and Warwick during the wars of the roses. Oxford made several attempts to escape captivity but was unsuccessful until he absconded with his jailor, James Blount, to join Richmond in Brittany. After Richmond’s ascension to the throne, Oxford became and remained an important member of Henry VII’s retinue until his death in 1513 (ODNB). Griffin notes that in this play we see an inflation of Oxford’s role similar to that in The Famous Victories of Henry V, and while Oxford was, in historical fact, a prominent ally of Henry VII, … The True Tragedy sentimentally exaggerates his importances, making him Henry’s second self and giving him hearty speeches affirming his loyalty and courage (65). Griffin links Oxford’s expanded role to this play’s connection to Oxford’s Men.

 George Stanley George Stanley

George Stanley, lord Strange was the eldest son and heir to lord Thomas Stanley, first earl of Derby. While it is likely that George Stanley would have been portrayed as a young boy—Roberts-Smith suggests the youngest in the company (198)—he was 25 years of age at the time he was held hostage as guarantor of Stanley’s participation, so this is a dramatic embellishment (ODNB).

 A captain Captain Page Page

The Page is an unnamed figure, loyal to Gloucester, and the final remaining member of his retinue to appear on stage after Bosworth. The Page employs a varied style of direct address, that swings from conspiratorial to apologetic. The fluctuation in his tone, both privately chastising and publicly abetting Richard’s tactics, work to place the audience in two minds about their relationship. The Page fills the role of trusted servant in much the way that Shakespeare employs Catesby and Ratcliffe.

 Brakenbury Brakenbury

Sir Robert Brakenbury entered Richard III’s service in 1477, and was appointed as the constable of the Tower of London on Richard’s assumption of the throne. It is traditionally believed (and dramatized in this play at ) that Brakenbury was present in the Tower during the murder of the young princes, having given their killers access. While Brakenbury is generally believed to have refused to kill the boys himself, it did not impact his favor with the king, who rewarded him generously for his loyalty and service after Buckingham’s rebellion. Brakenbury was one of the few casualties of name at Bosworth, dying in service of Richard. His role in this play is smaller than that in Shakespeare, speaking only in the scene which portrays the princes’ deaths (). He appears in an equivalent scene in Shakespeare (R3 1.4.91–97), where he hands the Tower keys to Clarence’s murderers.

 Sir James Tyrrell Tyrrell

Sir James Tyrrell was knighted after fighting on the Yorkist side at the battle of Tewkesbury, but he is not mentioned as a knight in this play, but is rather characterized as a mean citizen of London who will happily fulfil a task of murder for preferment. Tyrrell’s personal participation in the murder of the princes in the Tower is limited, in both this play and in Shakespeare’s, to obtaining the services of the actual killers (Slaughter and Denton in The True Tragedy, Dighton and Forrest in Shakespeare), but history records that Tyrrell confessed to killing the boys just prior to his own execution for supporting the pretender claim of Edward de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk. More records his confession (78) but it is an unreliable witness.

 Myles Forrest Forrest

An attendant on the princes in the Tower, Myles Forrest was an insider trusted by the princes enough to have them request he tell them a story before they are killed. He does not participate in the death of the boys in this play but a character with the same name appears in Shakespeare (along with Dighton) as the boys’ murderers. Forrest is named in Holinshed (4.402) and More (77) as one of the boys’ murderers, along with Dighton.

 Will Slaughter Slaughter

Described in More as Black Will or William Slaughter, set to serve the princes in the tower and see them safe (77). In this play, Slaughter is swapped with Forrest, and is a cold-blooded murderer. At the point when Jack Denton expresses his doubts, Slaughter cruelly encourages him back. The playwright’s exchange of Slaughter and Forrest is certainly to take advantage of Slaughter’s evocatively macabre surname. Churchill notes that Fleay made connection between this character and the murderer Black Will from Arden of Faversham, and argues that the same actor may have assayed both roles (444).

 Denton Denton

A corruption of John Dighton, one of the two rumored murderers of the princes in the Tower. Holinshed records that John Dighton confessed to the murders after his arrest for aiding John de la Pole’s 1487 rebellion (402) while More, writing in 1513, notes that Dighton still lived (78). Greg notes that Denton is referred to as both Denton and Douton in the Q text, but this has been standardized here (1929, xii). Churchill (via Fleay) suggests that this corruption could be due to the role being played by John Dutton, and the name was adjusted accordingly (445).

 Ralph Banastre Banastre

Ralph Banastre was a servant to the duke of Buckingham, who sheltered the fugitive duke for a short time at his home in Shropshire, but chose to betray him for the preferment that he had been promised. Banastre survived Buckingham and was awarded his estate in Kent as a result, although Hall suggests his reward for the betrayal was withheld: And as for his thousand pound kyng Richard gaue him not one farthing, saiyng that he which would be vntrew to so good a master would be false to al other, howbeit some saie he had a smal office or a ferine to stoppe hismouthe with al (394).

 Hursly Hursly

A character created for this play, with no precedent or antecedent. She appears not to be connected to the village of Hursley, in Hampshire, which gained prominence as the residence of Richard Cromwell in the 17c. Likely a diminutive or corruption of Ursula.

 Lodowick Lodowick

Hastings’ servant, a comic go-between who has been done a good turn by Shore’s wife in the reclamation of his lost lands. There is no historical precedent to Lodowick, and he appears to share no relation with the Lodowicks mentioned in Shakespeare: another serving man (E3) and the pseudonym for the disguised Duke (MM).

 Morton Morton

Even though he shares his name with John Morton, Bishop of Ely, who held enmity with Richard III and collaborated on Thomas More’s chronicle, there is no logical link between these men. Morton in this play is a fictional serving-man who has been assisted by Shore’s wife in his service to the king.

 Herald Herald

A servant to Gloucester, who appears in a single scene () to arrest Buckingham. He is called a herald rather than a messenger because he is tasked with proclaiming Buckingham’s attainder. Churchill suggests he represents Mitton, sheriff of Shropshire (446).

 Two Citizens Citizens Citizen 1 Citizen 2 Citizen

An unnamed older man whose son was pardoned by Edward IV with the assistance of Shore’s wife’s influence. Additionally, the Citizen appears to be a money lender of some kind, requiring repayment of Morton and then seeking other debtors. In his second scene with Shore’s wife, the Citizen expresses regret that his son was pardoned.

 Host Host

An old inn-keeper in Stony-Stratford, Buckinghamshire. The Host is first of two characters in this play compelled by Richard’s servants to surrender keys to foil an enemy—Brakenbury is similarly persuaded to grant access to the princes in the tower—but the Host is the only one who offers his misgivings as asides to the audience. He appears to be an older figure, given that he claims to have housed earl Rivers for his entire life (), and once he has surrendered his keys he does not return.

 Six supporters

Six supporters of Buckingham’s who enter to rescue him from arrest. None of these characters are named, played by available adult company members.

 A group of men 1 Man 2 Man

A group of men, likely provisioned with sacks or weapons, who travel to join Richmond’s force after his landing in Milford Haven. Doubled with the watchmen who arrest Hastings, but not implied they are the same men.

 Percival Percival

A servant to the duke of Buckingham, Percival appears in a single scene as a diplomat. Churchill notes Buckingham’s messenger is named Persivall in Hall’s chronicle and in the Harding continuator’s edition (406), but we have no further historical information about the man.

 Seven messengers Messenger 1 Messenger 2 Messenger

In total, messengers or message-bearing characters enter on six occasions throughout this play, which includes Stanley’s Captain (). Messengers deliver off-stage news about Rivers and Grey’s arrest (); Oxford and Blount’s treason (); news from lady Stanley to Richmond (); news about Richard’s army (); and in returning George Stanley to his father ().

 Four Watchmen of the Tower Guard

Four Watchmen recruited to arrest Hastings, as observed by Greg (1929, xii).

 Truth Truth

The physical, allegorical personification of Truth: the Roman figure of Veritas, or her Greek counterpart, Aletheia. Truth’s appearance is notable for the surprise Poetry betrays seeing her on a stage, as though Truth has no place there. Truth was traditionally depicted nude—the naked truth—although by the sixteenth century, images of Veritas became gradually more demure and clothed.

 Poetry Poetry

The physical, allegorical personification of Poetry: likely played by one of the company’s boys attired as a woman. The personification of Poetry appears infrequently in early modern drama, but here Poetry personifies performance itself. Contemporary images showed Poetry as A lady in a sky-colour’d Garment; with Stars and Wings on her Head; a Harp in her right Hand; crown’d with Laurel, and a Swan at her Feet (Ripa 61). None of these elements are recorded as associated with this play, however.

 Report Report

An allegorical figure like Truth and Poetry, who represents rumor and the spread of legends. Report appears in a single scene and gathers the second-hand story of the battle, which helps explain the difference in content between the actual event and the chronicle history. There is no indication as to how Report would be attired, but Ripa records Rumor as a man arm’d with a coat of mail of divers colours; throwing of darts every where … the Darts show flying Reports among the multitude … the Coat of Mail of different Colours, the diversity of Opinions of the Rabble (66).

 The ghost of Clarence Ghost

George, Duke of Clarence, was the fifth son of Richard, Duke of York, and brother to kings Edward IV and Richard III. His appearance as a ghost in this play means that his grisly murder of 18 February 1478, where he is supposed to have been drowned in the Tower in a butt of malmsey ( Truth notes), has occurred prior to this play. Shakespeare dramatizes Clarence’s final days and murder at Richard’s hands, which gives him a chance to speak about the treason for which he is arrested. Clarence actively played both sides of during the wars of the roses, and his support of Warwick the kingmaker and Margaret of Anjou saw Clarence named second in line for the throne by Henry VI. After Warwick’s death and Edward IV’s recovery of the throne, Clarence came back into favor, but his past misdeeds were not forgotten (Hicks). Here he appears as a Latin-speaking ghost of vengeance, who drops a shield in challenge that bears the Senecan Latin (Roberts-Smith 192) calling for vengeance. Poetry and Truth are tasked with the playing of this challenge throughout the course of the play, and the ghost of Clarence does not return for satisfaction after Richard’s overthrow.

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 Published file. Checking status of notes from Jenny Parr. Added two anchors. Began inputting corrections Added anchors Addressed comments and ran XSL to remove 26 unused anchors. Removed short title and tidied comments. Changed color to colour, honor to honour, and rumour to rumour. Checked encoding, some copyedits Began updating metadata Added the title page back to the modern text and pinned the annotations. Renumbered speeches. Changed status to proofing. Converting tln refs in annotations to point to anchors. Continued converting tlns to anchors and pointers. Continued converting tlns to anchors and pointers. Continued converting tlns to anchors and pointers. Continued converting tlns to anchors and pointers. Finished tagging verse. Added l elements and removed lb elements. Starting numbering scenes. Added anchors for annotations. Removed extra line beginnings. Corrected title in front element. Add a person entry for each character. Added xml:ids to all sp elements. Added a listPerson element and a sample person. Removed supplied elements that do not have attributes, using XSLT. Added status IML-TEI. Added anchors and modified using XSLT. Created TEI from IML file. Peer review arranged by QME Editorial Board The True Tragedy of Richard the third, Wherein is shown the death of Edward the fourth, with the smothering of the two young princes in the Tower; With a lamentable end of Shore’s wife, an example for all wicked women; And lastly, the conjunction and joining of the two noble houses, Lancaster and York. As it was played by the Queen’s Majesty’s Players. LONDON Printed by Thomas Creede, and are to be sold by William Barley, at his shop in Newgate Market, near Christ Church door. 1594.
Prologue Enter Truth and Poetry. To them, enter the ghost of George, Duke of Clarence holding up a shield. Ghost

Cresce cruor! Sanguis satietur sanguine! Cresce, Quod spero. Sitio, o sitio, sitio, vendicta!

 Ghost drops the shield and exit. Poetry Truth, well met. Truth

Thanks, Poetry. What makes thou upon a stage?

 Poetry Shadows. Truth Then will I add bodies to the shadows. Therefore depart and give Truth leave To show her pageant. Poetry Why, will Truth be a player? Truth No, but Tragedia-like for to present A tragedy in England done but late That will revive the hearts of drooping minds. Poetry Whereof? Truth

Marry, thus.

Richard Plantagenet, of the house of York, Claiming the crown by wars, not by descent, Had, as the chronicles make manifest, In the two-and-twentieth year of Henry VI, By act of parliament entailed to him The crown and titles to that dignity And to his offspring, lawfully begotten, After the decease of that forenamed king; Yet not contented for to stay the time, Made wars upon King Henry, then the sixth, And by outrage suppressed that virtuous king And won the crown of England to himself. But since, at Wakefield in a battle pitched, Outrageous Richard breathed his latest breath, Leaving behind three branches of that line, Three sons. The first was Edward, now the king, George of Clarence, and Richard, Gloucester’s duke. Then Henry, claiming after his decease His style, his crown, and former dignity, Was quite suppressed, till this Edward IV. Poetry

But tell me, Truth. Of Henry, what ensued?

 Truth Imprisoned he, in the Tower of London lies By strict command from Edward, England’s king, Since cruelly murdered by Richard, Gloucester’s duke. Poetry

Whose ghost was that did appear to us?

 Truth It was the ghost of George, the Duke of Clarence, Who was attainted in King Edward’s reign Falsely of treason to his royalty; Imprisoned in the Tower, was most unnaturally By his own brother, shame to parents’ stock, By Gloucester’s duke drowned in a butt of wine. Poetry

What shield was that he let fall?

 Truth

A shield containing this, in full effect: Blood sprinkled springs. Blood spilt craves due revenge. Whereupon he writes: Cresce cruor! Sanguis satietur sanguine! Cresce, Quod spero. Sitio, o sitio, sitio, vendicta!

 Poetry

What manner of man was this Richard, Duke of Gloucester?

 Truth A man ill-shaped, crooked-backed, lame-armed, withal; Valiantly minded, but tyrannous in authority. So, during the minority of the young prince He is made lord protector over the realm. He turns to the audience. Gentles, suppose that Edward now hath reigned Full two-and-twenty years, and now, like to die, Hath summoned all his nobles to the court To swear allegiance with the duke his brother For truth unto his son the tender prince, Whose father’s soul is now near flight to God, Leaving behind two sons of tender age, Five daughters to comfort the hapless queen, All under the protection of the Duke of Gloucester. Thus, gentles, excuse the length by the matter, And here begins Truth’s pageant. To Poetry. Poetry, wend with me. Exeunt.
Scene 1 Enter Edward IV sick in his bed. With him, Lord Hastings, Lord Marquess of Dorset, and Princess Elizabeth comforting her father. From another side comes to them Richard Duke of Gloucester, who observes the events. Hastings

Long live my sovereign in all happiness.

 Dorset

An honourable age with Croesus’ wealth hourly attend the person of the king.

 Edward IV

And welcome, you peers of England, unto your king.

 Hastings

For our unthankfulness the heavens hath thrown thee down.

 Dorset

I fear for our ingratitude our angry God doth frown.

 Edward IV

Why, nobles, he that lay me here can raise me at his pleasure. But, my dear friends and kinsmen, in what estate I now lie it is seen to you all, and I feel myself near the dreadful stroke of death. And the cause that I have requested you in friendly-wise to meet together is this: that where malice and envy sowing sedition in the hearts of men, so would I have that admonished and friendly favors overcome in the heart of you, lord marquess and Lord Hastings, both. For how I have governed these two-and-twenty years I leave it to your discretions. The malice hath still been an enemy to you both, that in my lifetime I could never get any league of amity betwixt you. Yet, at my death, let me entreat you to embrace each other that at my last departure you may send my soul to the joys celestial. For leaving behind me my young son, your lawful king after my decease may be by your wise and grave counsel so governed which no doubt may bring comfort to his famous realm of England. But what sayeth lord marquess and Lord Hastings? What, not one word? Nay, then I see it will not be, for they are resolute in their ambition.

 Elizabeth

Ah, yield, Lord Hastings, and submit yourselves to each other, and you, lord marquess, submit yourself. See here the agèd king my father how he sues for peace betwixt you both. Consider, lord marquess. You are son to my mother the queen and therefore let me entreat you to mitigate your wrath and in friendly sort embrace each other.

 Edward IV

Nay cease thy speech, Elizabeth. It is but folly to speak to them for they are resolute in their ambitious minds. Therefore Elizabeth, I feel myself at the last instant of death and now must die being thus tormented in mind.

 Hastings

May it be that thou, lord marquess, that neither by entreaty of the prince nor courteous words of Elizabeth his daughter, may withdraw thy ambition from me?

 Dorset

May it be that thou, Lord Hastings, canst not perceive the mark his grace aims at?

 Hastings

No, I am resolute, except thou submit.

 Dorset

If thou beest resolute, give up the upshot and perhaps thy head may pay for the losses.

 Edward IV

Ah, gods! Sith at my death you jar, what will you do to the young prince after my decease? For shame, I say, depart from my presence and leave me to myself, for these words strikes a second dying to my soul! Ah, my lords, I thought I could have commanded a greater thing than this at your hands, but, sith I cannot, I take my leave of you both, and so depart and trouble me no more.

 Hastings

With shame, an’t like your majesty, I submit therefore, craving humble pardon on my knees, and would rather that my body shall be a prey to mine enemy rather than I will offend my lord at the hour and instance of his death.

 Edward IV

Ah, thanks, Lord Hastings.

 Elizabeth

Ah, yield, lord marquess, sith Lord Hastings is contented to be united.

 Edward IV

Ah, yield, lord marquess, thou art too obstinate.

 Dorset

My gracious lord, I am content, and humbly crave your grace’s pardon on my knee for my foul offence. And see, my lord, my breast opened to mine adversary that he may take revenge, than once it shall be said I will offend my gracious sovereign.

 Edward IV

Now, let me see you friendly. Give one another your hands.

 Hastings

With a good will, an’t like your grace. He offers his hand to Dorset. Therefore, lord marquess, take here my hand, which was once vowed and sworn to be thy death but now through entreaty of my prince I knit a league of amity forever.

 Dorset

Well, Lord Hastings, not in show but in deed. He takes Hastings’ offered hand. Take thou here my hand, which was once vowed to have shivered thy body in piecemeals that the fowls of the air should have fed their young withal, but now upon allegiance to my prince, I vow perfect love and live friendship forever.

 Edward IV

Now for confirming of it, here take your oaths.

 Hastings

If I, Lord Hastings, falsify my league of friendship vowed to lord marquess, I crave confusion.

 Dorset

Like oath take I, and crave confusion.

 Edward IV

Confusion. Now, my lords, for your young king that lieth now at Ludlow, attended with Earl Rivers, Lord Grey, his two uncles, and the rest of the queen’s kindred. I hope you will be unto him as you have been to me. His years are but young, thirteen at the most, unto whose government I commit to my brother, the protector. But to thee, Elizabeth my daughter, I leave thee in a world of trouble, and commend me to thy mother. To all thy sisters and especially I give thee this in charge upon and at my death: be loyal to thy brother during his authority. As thyself art virtuous, let thy prayers be modest; still be bountiful in devotion. And thus, leaving thee with a kiss, I take my last farewell, for I am so sleepy that I must now make an end. And here before you all I commit my soul to almighty God, my savior and sweet redeemer, my body to the earth, my scepter and crown to the young prince my son. And now nobles, draw the curtains and depart. He that made me, save me, unto whose hands I commit my spirit.

 The king dies in his bed. Exeunt omnes.
Scene 2 Enter Shore’s wife, and Hursly her maid. Shore’s Wife

O Fortune, wherefore wert thou called Fortune, but that thou art fortunate? Those whom thou favorest be famous, meriting mere mercy and fraught with mirrors of magnanimity. And, Fortune, I would thou hadst never favored me.

 Hursly

Why, mistress, if you exclaim against Fortune you condemn yourself, for who hath advanced you but Fortune?

 Shore’s Wife

Ay, as she hath advanced me, so may she throw me down. But, Hursly, dost not hear the king is sick?

 Hursly

Yes, mistress, but never heard that every sick man died.

 Shore’s Wife

Ah, Hursly, my mind presageth some great mishaps unto me, for last time I saw the king methought ghastly death approached in his face. For thou knowest this, Hursly: I have been good to all, and still ready to prefer my friends to what preferment I could, for what was it his grace would deny Shore’s wife? Of anything, yea, were it half his revenues, I know his grace would not see me want. And if his grace should die, as heavens forfend it should be so, I have left me nothing now to comfort me withal, and then those that are my foes will triumph at my fall. But if the king scape, as I hope he will, then will I feather my nest, that blow the stormy winter never so cold I will be throughly provided for one. But here comes Lodowick, servant to Lord Hastings. How now, Lodowick, what news?

 Enter Lodowick. Lodowick

Mistress Shore, my lord would request you to come and speak with him.

 Shore’s Wife

I will, Lodowick. But tell me, what news? Is the king recovered?

 Lodowick

Ay, Mistress Shore. He hath recovered that he long looked for.

 Shore’s Wife

Lodowick, how long is it since he began to mend?

 Lodowick

Even when the greatest of his torments had left him.

 Shore’s Wife

But are the nobles agreed to the contentment of the prince?

 Lodowick

The nobles and peers are agreed as the king would wish them.

 Shore’s Wife

Lodowick, thou revivest me.

 Lodowick

Ay, but few thought that the agreement and his life would have ended together.

 Shore’s Wife

Why, Lodowick, is he dead?

 Lodowick

In brief, Mistress Shore, he hath changed his life.

 Shore’s Wife

His life? Ah me, unhappy woman, now is misery at hand! Now will my foes triumph at this my fall. Those whom I have done most good will now forsake me. Ah, Hursly, when I entertained thee first I was far from change. So was I, Lodowick, when I restored thee thy lands. Ah, sweet Edward! Farewell, my gracious lord and sovereign! For now shall Shore’s wife be a mirror and looking glass to all her enemies. Thus shall I find, Lodowick, and have cause to say that all men are unconstant.

 Lodowick

Why, Mistress Shore, for the loss of one friend, will you abandon the rest that wish you well?

 Shore’s Wife

Ah, Lodowick, I must, for when the tree decays whose fruitful branch have flourished many a year, then farewell those joyful days and offspring of my heart. But say, Lodowick, who hath the king made protector during the minority of the young prince?

 Lodowick

He hath made his brother, Duke of Gloucester, protector.

 Shore’s Wife

Ah me, then comes my ruin and decay, for he could never abide me to the death. No, he always hated me, whom his brother loved so well. Thus must I lament and say all the world is unconstant.

 Lodowick

But, Mistress Shore, comfort yourself and think well of my lord who hath alway been a helper unto you.

 Shore’s Wife

Indeed, Lodowick, to condemn his honour I cannot. For he hath alway been my good lord, for as the world is fickle, so changeth the minds of men.

 Lodowick

Why, Mistress Shore, rather than want should oppress you, that little land which you begged for me of the king shall be at your dispose.

 Shore’s Wife

Thanks, good Lodowick.

 Shore’s wife steps aside in grief, and Lodowick follows at a distance. Enter a Citizen, and Morton, a serving man. Citizen

Oh, Master Morton, you are very welcome met. I hope you think on me for my money.

 Morton

I pray, sir, bear with me and you shall have it, with thanks too.

 Citizen

Nay I pray, sir, let me have my money, for I have had thanks and too much more than I looked for.

 Morton

In faith, sir, you shall have it, but you must bear with me a little. But sir, I marvel how you can be so greedy for your money when you see, sir, we are so uncertain of our own.

 Citizen

How, so uncertain of mine own? Why, dost thou know anybody will come to rob me?

 Morton

Why, no.

 Citizen

Wilt thou come in the night and cut my throat?

 Morton

No.

 Citizen

Wilt thou and the rest of thy companions come and set my house on fire?

 Morton

Why, no, I tell thee.

 Citizen

Why, how should I then be uncertain of mine own?

 Morton

Why, sir, by reason the king is dead.

 Citizen

Oh, sir! Is the king dead? I hope he hath given you no quittance for my debt.

 Morton

No, sir, but I pray stay awhile and you shall have it as soon as I can.

 Citizen

Well, I must be content. Where nothing is to be had the king loseth his right, they say. But who is this?

 Shore’s wife comes forward, followed by Lodowick. Morton

Marry sir, it is Mistress Shore, to whom I am more beholding to for my service than the dearest friend that ever I had.

 Citizen

And I for my son’s pardon.

 Morton

Now, Mistress Shore, how fare you?

 Shore’s Wife

Well, Morton, but not so well as thou hast known me, for I think I shall be driven to try my friends one day.

 Citizen

God forfend, Mistress Shore, and happy be that sun shall shine upon thee for preserving the life of my son.

 Shore’s Wife

Gramercies, good father. But how doth thy son, is he well?

 Citizen

The better that thou lives, doth he.

 Shore’s Wife

Thanks, father, I am glad of it. But come, Master Lodowick, shall we go? And you, Morton, you’ll bear us company.

 Lodowick

Ay, Mistress Shore, for my lord thinks long for our coming.

 Exeunt Shore’s wife, Lodowick, and Morton. Citizen

There, there, huffer, but by your leave. The king’s death is a maim to her credit, but they say there is my Lord Hastings in the court: he is as good as the ace of hearts at maw. Well, even as they brew, so let them bake for me; but I must about the streets, to see an I can meet with such cold customers as they I met withal even now. Mass, if I meet with no better, I am like to keep a bad household of it.

 Exit.
Scene 3 Enter Richard, Sir William Catesby, Page of Richard’s chamber, and his train. Richard

My friends, depart. The hour commands your absence. Leave me, and every man look to his charge.

 Exeunt train and Page. Catesby remains. Catesby

Renowned and right worthy protector, whose excellency far deserves the name of king than protector, Sir William Catesby wisheth, my lord, that your grace may so govern the young prince that the crown of England may flourish in all happiness.

 Exit Catesby. Richard

Ah, young prince! And why not I? Or who shall inherit Plantagenet’s but his son? And who, the king deceased, but the brother? Shall law bridle nature, or authority hinder inheritance? No, I say no! Principality brooks no equality, much less superiority, and the title of a king is next under the degree of a god. For if he be worthy to be called valiant that in his life wins honour, and by his sword wins riches, why now I, with renown of a soldier, which is never sold but by weight, nor changed but by loss of life, I reaped not the gain but the glory, and since it becometh a son to maintain the honour of his deceased father, why should not I hazard his dignity by my brother’s sons? To be baser than a king I disdain, and to be more than protector, the law deny. Why, my father got the crown, my brother won the crown, and I will wear the crown or I’ll make them hop without their crowns that denies me. Have I removed such logs out of my sight as my brother Clarence and King Henry the Sixth to suffer a child to shadow me? Nay, more, my nephew to disinherit me? Yet most of all, to be released from the yoke of my brother, as I term it, to become subject to his son? No! Death nor hell shall not withhold me, but as I rule I will reign, and so reign that the proudest enemy shall not abide the sharpest shower. Why, what are the babes but a puff of gunpowder, a mark for the soldiers, food for fishes, or lining for beds: devices enough to make them away! Wherein I am resolute, and determining needs no counsel. Ho, who’s within?

 Enter Page and Percival bearing a letter. Page

May it please your majesty—

 Richard

Ha, villain! Majesty?

 Page

I speak but upon that which shall be, my good lord.

 Richard

But what’s he with thee?

 Page

A messenger with a letter from the right honourable the Duke of Buckingham.

 Percival kneels, presenting a letter. Richard

To the Page Sirrah, give place. Exit Page. Aside. Ah, how this title of majesty animates me to my purpose!—Rise, man, regard no fall, haply this letter brings good luck. He accepts the letter and reads. Aside. May it be, or is it possible? Doth Fortune so much favor my happiness that I no sooner devise but she sets abroach? Or doth she but to try me, that raising me aloft, my fall may be the greater? Well, laugh on, sweet change! Be as be may, I will never fear colours nor regard ruth. Valor brings fame, and fame conquers death. To Percival—Percival.

 Percival

My lord?

 Richard

For so thy letter declares thy name. Thy trust to thy lord is a sufficient warrant that I utter my mind fully unto thee, and seeing thy lord and I have been long foes, and have found now so fit opportunity to join league to allay the proud enemy, tell him thus. As a friend, I do accept of his grace and will be as ready to put in practice to the uttermost of my power whate’er he shall be to devise. But whereas he hath writ that the removing of the young prince from the queen’s friends might do well, tell him thus: it is the only way to our purpose. For he shall shortly come up to London to his coronation, at which instant we will be both present, and where, by the help of thy lord, I will so play my part that I’ll be more than I am, and not much less than I look for. No, nor a hairbreadth from that I am. Adjudge thou what it is, Percival.

 Percival

God send it, my lord, but my lord willed me to satisfy you, and to tell you by word of mouth that he hath in readiness a brave company of men.

 Richard

What power hath he?

 Percival

A brave band of his own.

 Richard

What number?

 Percival

My lord, to the number of five hundred footmen and horsemen. Aiders unto him is my lord chamberlain and my Lord Hastings.

 Richard

Zounds, dares he trust the Lord Hastings?

 Percival

Ay, my lord, as his own life. He is secret, I warrant you.

 Richard

Well, Percival, this matter is weighty and must not be slipped. Therefore, return this answer to thy lord, that tomorrow I will meet him, for today I cannot, for now the funeral is past I must set a screen before the fire for fear of suspicion. Again, I am now to strengthen myself by the controversy that is betwixt the kindred of the king deceased and the queen that’s living. The young prince is yet in hucksters’ handling, and they not throughly friends; now must I so work, that that water that drives the mill may drown it. I climb, Percival. I regard more the glory than the gain, for the very name of a king redouble a man’s life with fame when death hath done his worst. And so commend me to thy lord and take thou this for thy pains. Richard gives Percival a coin.

 Percival

I thank your grace. I humbly take my leave.

 Exit Percival. Richard

Why so: now Fortune make me a king, Fortune give me a kingdom! Let the world report the Duke of Gloucester was a king; therefore Fortune make me king. If I be but king for a year, nay, but half a year, nay, a month, a week, three days, one day, or half a day, nay, an hour, zounds, half an hour! Nay, sweet Fortune, clap but the crown on my head that the vassals may but once say, God save King Richard’s life, it is enough.—Sirrah, who is there?

 Enter Richard’s Page. Page

My lord.

 Richard

What hearest thou about the court?

 Page

Joy, my lord, of your protectorship for the most part. Some murmur, but, my lord, they be of the baser sort.

 Richard

A mighty arm will sway the baser sort; authority doth terrify. But what other news hearest thou?

 Page

This, my lord: they say the young king is coming up to his coronation attended on by his two uncles, Earl Rivers and Lord Grey, and the rest of the queen’s kindred.

 Richard

A parlous bone to ground upon, and a rush stiffly knit, which, if I could find a knot, I would give one half to the dogs and set fire on the other.

 Page

It is reported, my lord, but I know not whether it be true or no, that the Duke of Buckingham is up in the Marches of Wales with a band of men and, as they say, he aims at the crown.

 Richard

Tush, a shadow without a substance, and a fear without a cause, but yet, if my neighbour’s house be on fire, let me seek to save mine own. In trust is treason: time slippeth; it is ill jesting with edge-tools, or dallying with princes’ matters. I’ll strike whilst the iron is hot, and I’ll trust never a Duke of Buckingham—no, never a duke in the world—further than I see him. And, sirrah, so follow me.

 Exit Richard. Page

To the audience I see my lord is fully resolved to climb, but how he climbs I’ll leave that to your judgments, but what his fall will be, that’s hard to say. But I marvel that the Duke of Buckingham and he are now become such great friends, who had wont to love one another so well as the spider doth the fly. But this I have noted since he hath had the charge of protector, how many noble men hath fled the realm: first, the lord marquess, son to the queen, the earls of Westmorland and Northumberland are secretly fled. How this gear will cotton I know not, but what do I, meddling in such matters, that should meddle with the untying of my lord’s points? Faith, do even as a great many do beside: meddle with princes’ matters so long till they prove themselves beggars in the end. Therefore, I for fear I should be taken napping with any words, I’ll set a lock on my lips for fear my tongue grow too wide for my mouth.

 Exit Page.
Scene 4 Enter the young prince King Edward V, bearing a letter, Earl Rivers, Lord Grey, Sir Richard Haute, Sir Thomas Vaughan. Edward V

Right-loving uncles, and the rest of this company, my mother hath written and thinks it convenient that we dismiss our train for fear the town of Northampton is not able to receive us; and, again, my uncle of Gloucester may rather think we come of malice against him and his blood. Therefore, my lords, let me hear your opinions, for my words and her letters are all one, and besides, I myself give consent.

 Rivers

Then thus may it please your grace, I will show my opinion. First note the two houses of Lancaster and York: the league of friendship is yet but green betwixt them and little cause of variance may cause it break. And thereby I think it not requisite to discharge the company because of this. The Duke of Buckingham is up in the Marches of Wales with a great power, and with him is joined the protector, for what cause I know not. Therefore, my lords, I have spoken my mind boldly, but do as your honours shall think good.

 Vaughan

Why, my Lord Rivers, wherefore is he protector but for the king’s safety?

 Rivers

Ay, Sir Thomas Vaughan, and therefore a traitor, because he is protector.

 Grey

We have the prince in charge; therefore we need not care.

 Rivers

We have the prince, but they the authority.

 Grey

Why, take you not the Duke of Buckingham for the king’s friend?

 Rivers

Yes, and yet we may misdoubt the Duke of Gloucester as a foe.

 Grey

Why then, my Lord Rivers, I think it is convenient that we leave you here behind us at Northampton for conference with them, and if you hear their pretence be good towards the king you may in God’s name make return and come with them. But if not, leave them and come to us with speed. For my sister the queen hath willed that we should dismiss our company and the king himself hath agreed to it. Therefore we must needs obey.

 Rivers

If it please your grace, I am content, and humbly take my leave of you all.

 Edward V

Farewell, good uncle. Exit Rivers. Ah, gods, if I do live my father’s years as God forbid but I may, I will so root out this malice and envy sown among the nobility that I will make them weary that were the first beginners of these mischiefs.

 Grey

Worthily well-spoken of your princely majesty, which no doubt showeth a king-like resolution.

 Vaughan

A toward young prince, and no doubt forward to all virtue whose reign God long prosper among us.

 Edward V

But come, uncle, let us forward of our journey towards London.

 Haute

We will attend upon your majesty.

 Exeunt omnes.
Scene 5 Enter an old Host and Richard’s Page. Page

Come on, mine host, what, dost thou understand my tale or no?

 Host

I’faith, my guest, you have amazed me already, and to hear it again, it will mad me altogether. But because I may think upon it the better, I pray you let me hear it once more.

 Page

Why, then thus: I serve the right honourable the lord protector.

 Host

Ay, I know that too well.

 Page

Then this is his grace’s pleasure: that this night he will be lodged in thy house. Thy fare must be sumptuous, thy lodgings cleanly, his men used friendly and with great courtesy, and that he may have his lodging prepared as near Lord Rivers as possible may be—

 Host

Why, sir, if this be all, this is done already.

 Page

Nay, more.

 Host

Nay, sir, an you love me, no more! Here’s too much already.

 Page

Nay, my lord’s grace’s pleasure is further: that when all thy guests have ta’en their chambers, that thou convey into my lord’s hands the keys of every several chamber, and what my lord’s pleasure is further thou shalt know in the morning.

 Host

How? Lock in my guests like prisoners? Why, do you hear my guests? Methinks there should be little better than treason in these words you have uttered.

 Page

Treason, villain? How darest thou have a thought of treason against my lord! Therefore, you were best be brief and tell me whether you will do it or no.

 Host

Aside Alas, what shall I do? Who were I best to offend? Shall I betray that good old earl that hath lain at my house this forty years? Why, an I do, he will hang me! Nay, then, on the other side, if I should not do as my lord protector commands, he will chop off my head! To the Page But is there no remedy?

 Page

Come, sir, be brief. There is no remedy; therefore be brief and tell me straight.

 Host

Why then, sir, here’s my hand. Tell my lord protector he shall have it. I will do as he commands me, Aside but even against my will, God is my witness.

 Page

Why then, farewell, mine host.

 Exit Page. Host

Farewell, even the worst guest that ever came to my house! To the audience Ah, masters, masters, what a troublesome vocation am I crept into! You think we that be innkeepers get all the world, but I think I shall get a fair halter to my neck. But I must go see all things done, to my great grief.

 Exit.
Scene 6 Enter the Mother Queen, her daughter, and her son to sanctuary. Exeunt.
Scene 7 Earl Rivers speaks out of his chamber. Rivers

Ho, mine host! Chamberlain, where’s my key? What, penned up like a prisoner? But stay, I fear I am betrayed. Rivers seems to spy somebody off-stage. The sudden sight of Gloucester’s duke doth make me sore afraid. I’ll speak to him and gently him salute, though in my heart I envy much the man! Enter Buckingham, and Gloucester, and their train. Calling Good morrow, my lord protector, to your grace, and Duke of Buckingham, good morrow too. Thanks, noble dukes for our good cheer and for your company.

 Richard Thou wretched earl, whose agèd head imagines naught but treachery, Like Judas thou admitted wast to sup with us last night, But heavens prevented thee our ills and left thee in this plight. Griev’st thou that I, the Gloucester duke, should as protector sway? And were you he was left behind, to make us both away? Wilt thou be ringleader to wrong, and must you guide the realm? Nay, overboard all such mates I hurl whilst I do guide the helm. I’ll weed you out by one and one. I’ll burn you up like chaff. I’ll rend your stock up by the roots, that yet in triumphs laugh. Rivers Alas, good dukes, for aught I know I never did offend, Except unto my prince unloyal I have been. Then show just cause why you exclaim so rashly in this sort So falsely thus me to condemn upon some false report? But am I here as prisoner kept, imprisoned here by you? Then know I am as true to my prince as the proudest in thy crew. Buckingham Ah, bravely spoken, good old earl who, though his limbs be numb, He hath his tongue as much at use as though his years were young. Richard To Rivers. Speakest thou the truth? How dar’st thou speak for justice to appeal, Whenas thy packing with thy prince thy falsehood do reveal.

Ah, Rivers, blush for shame, to speak like traitor as thou art.

 Rivers Upbraid you me as traitor to your grace? No, although a prisoner, I return defiance in thy face. The chronicles I record talk of my fidelity and of my progeny, Where, as in a glass, thou mayst behold thy ancestors and their treachery. The wars in France, Irish conflicts, and Scotland knows my trust, When thou hast kept thy skin unscarred and let thine armor rust. How thou unjustly here exclaimst, Yea, far from love or kin Was this the oath which at our prince’s death With us thou didst combine? But time permits now to tell thee all my mind, For well ’tis known that but for fear you never would have climbed. Let commons now have it in hand—the matter is begun— Of whom I fear the lesser sort, upon thy part will run. My lords, I cannot breathe it out in words like to you But this my honour I will set to sale. Let any common man come in and say Earl Rivers’ faith unto his prince did quail, Then will I lose my lands and life. But if none so can do, Then thou, protector, injur’st me, and thy co-partner too. But since as judges here you are and taking no remorse, Spare me not, let me have law. In justice do your worst. Buckingham Aside to Richard My lord, lay down a cooling card; this game is gone too far. You have him fast; now cut him off, for fear of civil war. To Rivers Injurious earl, I hardly brook this portion thou hast given, Thus with my honour me to touch, but thy ruth shall begin. Richard But as thou art, I leave thee here Unto the officers’ custody. Officers of Richard’s train seize Rivers. First, bear him to Pomfret Castle, Charge them to keep him secretly, And as you hear from me, so deal. Let it be done immediately. Take from our garrison one whole band To guard him thither safely. Rivers And sendst thou me to common jail? Nay, then, I know thy mind. God bless these young and tender babes That I do leave behind. And God above protect them day and night: Those are the marks thou aimst at, to rid them from their right. Farewell, sweet England and my countrymen, Earl Rivers leads the way. Yet would my life might rid you from this thrall! But for my stock and kindred to the queen, I greatly fear them all. And thus, disloyal duke, farewell. Whenever this is known, The shame and infamy thereof be sure will be thine own. Exit Rivers, bound, with officers. Richard

So now, my lord of Buckingham, let us hoist up sail while the wind serves. This hot beginning must have a quick dispatch. Therefore, I charge and command straightly that every highway be laid close that none may be suffered to carry this news before we ourselves come, for if word come before us then is our pretense bewrayed and all we have done to no effect. If any ask the cause why they may not pass, use my authority, and if he resist, shoot him through. Now, my lord of Buckingham, let us take post-horse to Stony Stratford, where happily I’ll say such grace to the prince’s dinner that I will make the devoutest of them forget what meat they eat, and yet all for the best, I hope.

 Exeunt.
Scene 8 Enter the young prince Edward V, Lord Grey, Sir Thomas Vaughan, Sir Richard Haute, and their train. Haute

Lord Grey, you do discomfort the king by reason of your heaviness.

 Grey

Alas, Sir Richard, how can I be merry when we have so great a charge of his grace? And again, this makes me to grieve the more, because we cannot hear from Earl Rivers, which makes me think the protector and he have been at some words.

 Edward V

Why, good uncle, comfort yourself. No doubt my uncle Earl Rivers is well, and is coming no doubt with my uncle of Gloucester to meet us, else we should have heard to the contrary. If any have cause to fear, it is myself. Therefore, good uncle, comfort yourself and be not sad.

 Grey

The sweet juice of such a grape would comfort a man were he half dead, and the sweet words of such a prince would make men careless of mishaps, how dangerous soever.

 Haute

Lord Grey, we hear now by all likelihoods the protector not to be far; therefore, we are to entertain him and the Duke of Buckingham with courtesy both for the prince’s behalf and for our own.

 Grey

Sir Richard Haute, I shall hardly show the protector or the Duke of Buckingham any merry countenance, considering how hardly I have been used by them both, but yet for love to my prince I will bridle my affection—but in good time, they come.

 Enter Richard, Duke of Buckingham, and their train, including officers. Richard

Long live my princely nephew in all happiness!

 Edward V

Thanks, uncle of Gloucester, for your courtesy. Yet you have made haste, for we looked not for you as yet.

 Richard

Therein I show my humble duty to your grace, whose life I wish to redouble your deceased father’s days.

 Edward V

Thanks, good uncle.

 Buckingham

Long live my gracious prince.

 Edward V

Thanks, Buckingham. But, uncle, you will bear us company towards London?

 Richard

For that cause we came.

 Buckingham

To officers in his train Gentlemen, on afore. Keep your rooms. Before the officers can leave, Buckingham bumps into Grey. How now, Lord Grey, do you jostle in the presence of the king? This is more than needs.

 Grey

My lord, I scarce touched you. I hope it be no offence.

 Richard

Sir, no great offence, but inward envy will burst out. No, Lord Grey, you cannot hide your malice to us of the king’s blood.

 Edward V

Why, good uncle, let me know the cause of your sudden quarrel.

 Richard

Marry thus, noble nephew. The old wound of envy, being rubbed by Lord Grey’s venomous rashness, is grown to such a venomous sore that it is incurable without remove of dead flesh.

 Buckingham

Lord Grey, I do so much dislike thy abuse that were it not in presence of the prince I would bid thee combat. But thus, an it shall like your grace, I arrest and attach this Lord Grey, Sir Thomas Vaughan, and Richard Haute of high treason to your grace. And that Lord Grey hath conveyed money out of the Tower to relieve our enemies the Scots, and now by currying favor with your majesty he thinks it to be hid.

 Richard

Only this I add: you govern the prince without my authority, allowing me no more than the bare name of protector which I will have in the despite of you, and therefore as your competitor Earl Rivers is already imprisoned, so shall you be till time afford the law to take place.

 Grey

But whereas we are attached as traitors to his grace, and govern him without your authority? Why, we have authority from the Mother Queen. And for the delivery of the money to the Scots, it was done by a general consent of you all, and that I have your hands to show for my discharge. Therefore your arrest and attachment is not lawful, and yet as lawful as your quarrel is right.

 Richard

Thy presumption condemns thee, Lord Grey. Thy arrest is lawful. To the officers Therefore see them speedily and secretly imprisoned, and after the coronation they shall answer it by law. Meanwhile, officers, look to your charge.

 The officers seize Grey, Haute, and Vaughan, and their train. Edward V

Ah, gods, and is it justice without my consent? Am I a king and bear no authority? My loving kindred committed to prison as traitors in my presence, and I stand to give aim at them. Ah, Edward, would thou layst by thy father’s side, or else he had lived till thou hadst been better able to rule. If my near kindred be committed to prison, what remains for me? A crown? Ah, but how?—so beset with sorrows that the care and grief will kill me ere I shall enjoy my kingdom. Well, since I cannot command, I will entreat. Good uncle of Gloucester, for all I can say little, but for my uncle Lord Grey, what need he be a thief or convey money out of the Tower when he hath sufficient of his own? But, good uncle, let me bail them all. If not, I will bail my uncle Lord Grey if I may.

 Richard

Your grace undertakes you know not what. The matters are perilous, especially against the Lord Grey.

 Edward V

What perilous matters, considering he is a friend to us?

 Richard

He may be a friend to win favor, and so climb to promotion in respect of his equals. His equals? Nay, his betters.

 Edward V

I know my uncle will conceal no treason or dangerous secrecy from us.

 Richard

Yes, secrets that are too subtle for babes. Alas my lord, you are a child and they use you as a child: but they consult and conclude of such matters as, were we not careful, would prove prejudicial to your majesty’s person. Therefore, let not your grace fear anything by our determination. For as my authority is only under your grace, so shall my loyalty deserve hereafter the just recompense of a true subject. Therefore, I having charge from my brother, your father and our late deceased king, during the minority of your grace, I will use my authority as I see good.

 Edward V

Ay me, unhappy king.

 Grey

Nay, let not your grace be dismayed for our imprisonment, but I would we could warrant your grace from harm. And so we humbly take our leaves of your grace, hoping that ere long we shall answer by law to the shame and disgrace of you all.

 Richard

Go. You shall answer it by law.

 Exeunt Grey, Haute, and Vaughan, and train, guarded. Edward V, Buckingham, and Richard remain. Edward V

But come, uncle, shall we to London to our untimely coronation?

 Richard

What else, an’t please your majesty, where by the way I will appoint trusty officers about you.

 Buckingham

Sound trumpet in this parley. God save the king!

 Richard

Aside Richard. Sound trumpet.

 Exeunt.
Scene 9 Enter the Mother Queen and her young son, the Duke of York, and Princess Elizabeth. Duke of York

May it please your grace to show to your children the cause of your heaviness, that we knowing it may be copartners of your sorrows?

 Mother Queen

Ay me, poor husbandless queen, and you poor fatherless princes!

 Elizabeth

Good mother, expect the living and forget the dead. What though our father be dead? Yet behold his children, the image of himself.

 Mother Queen

Ay, poor princes, my mourning is for you and for your brother who is gone up to an untimely coronation.

 Elizabeth

Why, mother, he is a prince, and in hands of our two uncles, Earl Rivers and Lord Grey, who will no doubt be careful of his estate.

 Mother Queen

I know they will, but kings have mortal enemies as well as friends that esteem and regard them. Ah, sweet children, when I am at rest, my nightly dreams are dreadful. Methinks, as I lie in my bed, I see the league broken which was sworn at the death of your kingly father. ’Tis this, my children, and many other causes of like importance that makes your aged mother to lament as she doth.

 Duke of York

May it please your grace—

 Mother Queen

Ah, my son, no more grace, for I am so sore disgraced that without God’s grace I fall into despair with myself. But who is this?

 Enter a messenger. Duke of York

What art thou, that with thy ghastly looks presseth into sanctuary to affright our Mother Queen?

 Messenger

Ah, sweet princes, doth my countenance bewray me? My news is doubtful and heavy.

 Elizabeth

Aside Then utter it to us that our mother may not hear it.

 Mother Queen

Ah, yes, my friend, speak whate’er it be.

 Messenger

Then thus may it please your grace. The young prince, coming up to his coronation attended on by his two uncles Earl Rivers and Lord Grey and the rest of your kindred, was by the Duke of Buckingham and the protector met at Stony Stratford, where on a sudden grew malice between the Duke of Buckingham and the Lord Grey. But in the end, the Duke of Buckingham’s malice grew so great that he arrested and attached all those of your kindred of high treason, whereupon the protector, being too rash in judgment, hath committed them all to Pomfret Castle.

Mother Queen

Where I fear he will butcher them all. But where is the prince my son?

 Messenger

He remains at London in the bishop’s palace, in the hands of the protector.

 Mother Queen

Ah, traitors! Will they lay hands on their prince and imprison his peers which no doubt means well towards him? But tell me, art not thou servant to the archbishop of York?

 Messenger

Yes, an it please your grace, for himself is here at hand with letters from the council—and here he comes.

 Enter the archbishop of York, carrying letters. Mother Queen

To messenger But here, my friend. grief had almost made me forget thy reward. Offers reward Ah, come, my lord, thou bringest the heavy news. Come shoot thine arrow, and hit this heart that is almost dead with grief already.

 Archbishop

Whate’er my news be, have patience. The Duke of Gloucester greets your grace.

 Mother Queen

Draw home, my lord, for now you hit the mark.

 Archbishop

The prince your son doth greet your grace.

 Mother Queen

A happy gale that blew that arrow by. Ah, let me see the letter that he sent. Perhaps it may prolong my life awhile.

 She takes one letter and reads it. Duke of York

How doth my brother? Is he in health, my lord?

 Archbishop

In health, sweet prince, but longs to have thy company.

 Duke of York I am content if my mother will let me go. Archbishop Content or not, sweet prince, it must be so. Mother Queen

To archbishop Hold.—To York And have they persuaded thee, my son, to have thy brother too away from me? Nay, first I will know what shall become of thee before I send my other son to them.

 Archbishop

Look on this letter and advise yourself, for thus the council hath determined.

 She takes another letter and reads it. Mother Queen

And have they chosen thee among the rest for to persuade me to this enterprise? No, my lord, and thus persuade yourself: I will not send him to be butchered.

 Archbishop

Your grace misdoubts the worst. They send for him only to have him bedfellow to the king, and there to stay and keep him company. And if your son miscarry then let his blood be laid unto my charge. I know their drifts and what they do pretend, for they shall both this night sleep in the Tower, and tomorrow they shall come forth to his happy coronation. Upon my honour, this is the full effect, for see the ambushed nobles are at hand to take the prince away from you by force if you will not by fair means let him go.

 Enter Catesby and several officers, armed. Mother Queen

Why, my lord, will you break sanctuary and bring in rebels to affright us thus? No, you shall rather take away my life before you get my boy away from me.

 Archbishop

Why, madam, have you taken sanctuary?

 Mother Queen

Ay, my lord, and high time too, I trow.

 Archbishop

A heavy case when princes fly for aid where cutthroats, rebels, and bankrupts should be. But madam, what answer do you return? If I could persuade you, ’twere best to let him go.

 Mother Queen

But for I see you counsel for the best, I am content that you shall have my son in hope that you will send him safe to me. Here I deliver him into your hands. To York Farewell, my boy. Commend me to thy brother.

 Duke of York Mother, farewell, and farewell, sister, too. I will but see my brother and return to you. Mother Queen Weeping Tears stops my speech. Come, let us in, my lord. Archbishop

I will attend upon your grace.

Exeunt Mother Queen, Princess Elizabeth. To Catesby Hold, take the prince. The queen and I have done. I’ll take my leave and after you I’ll come. Exit Archbishop. Duke of York

How now, my friend, shall I go to my brother?

 Catesby

What else, sweet prince, and for that cause we are come to bear you company.

 Exeunt omnes.
Scene 10 Enter four watchmen followed by Richard’s Page. Page

To the audience Why, thus by keeping company, am I become like unto those with whom I keep company. As my lord hopes to wear the crown, so I hope by that means to have preferment, but instead of the crown, the blood of the headless light upon his head! He hath made but a wrong match, for blood is a threatener and will have revenge. He makes havoc of all to bring his purpose to pass. All those of the queen’s kindred that were committed to Pomfret Castle, he hath caused them to be secretly put to death without judgment: the like was never seen in England. He spares none! Whom he but mistrusteth to be a hinderer to his proceedings, he is straight clapped up in prison. The valiant earl of Oxford being but mistrusted is kept close prisoner in Hammes Castle. Again, how well Doctor Shaw hath pleased my lord, that preached at Paul’s Cross yesterday, that proved the two princes to be bastards. Whereupon, in the afternoon came down my lord mayor and the aldermen to Baynard’s Castle and offered my lord the whole estate upon him, and offered to make him king, which he refused so faintly that if it had been offered once more I know he would have taken it. The Duke of Buckingham is gone about it, and is now in the Guildhall making his oration. But here comes my lord.

 Enter Richard and Catesby. Richard

Catesby, content thee. I have warned the Lord Hastings to this court, and since he is so hard to be won, ’tis better to cut him off than suffer him. He hath been all this while partaker to our secrets, and if he should but by some mislike utter it, then were we all cast away.

 Catesby

Nay my lord, do as you will, yet I have spoken what I can in my friend’s cause.

 Richard

Go to. No more ado, Catesby. They say I have been a long sleeper today, but I’ll be awake anon to some of their costs. To the Page But, sirrah, are those men in readiness that I appointed you to get?

 Page

Ay, my lord, and give diligent attendance upon your grace.

 Richard

Go to, look to it then, Catesby. Get thee thy weapons ready, for I will enter the court.

 Catesby

I will, my lord.

 Exeunt Richard and Catesby. Page

To the audience Doth my lord say he hath been a long sleeper today? There are those of the court that are of another opinion: that thinks his grace lieth never long enough abed. Now there is court held today by diverse of the council, which I fear me will cost the Lord Hastings and the Lord Stanley their best caps. For my lord hath willed me to get half a dozen ruffians in readiness, and when he knocks with his fist upon the board, they to rush in, and to cry treason, treason, and to lay hands upon the Lord Hastings, and the Lord Stanley, which, for fear I should let slip, I will give my diligent attendance.

 Enter Richard, Catesby, Brakenbury and other officers, pulling Lord Hastings. Richard

Come, bring him away!—Let this suffice. To Hastings Thou and that accursed sorceress the Mother Queen hath bewitched me with assistance of that famous strumpet of my brother’s, Shore’s wife! My withered arm is a sufficient testimony. Deny it if thou canst! Lay not Shore’s wife with thee last night?

 Hastings

That she was in my house, my lord, I cannot deny, but not for any such matter. If—

 Richard

If? Villain, feedest thou me with ifs and ands? To his followers Go fetch me a priest! Make a short shrift, and dispatch him quickly, for by the blessed St Paul, I swear I will not dine till I see the traitor’s head! Away, Sir Thomas, suffer him not to speak. See him executed straight and let his copartner the Lord Stanley be carried to prison also. ’Tis not his broke head I have given him shall excuse him. Exeunt Brakenbury and officers with Hastings. Catesby, go you and see it presently proclaimed throughout the City of London by a herald of arms that the cause of his death and the rest were for conspiring by witchcraft the death of me and the Duke of Buckingham that so they might govern the king and rule the realm. I think the proclamation be almost done.

 Catesby

Ay, my good lord, and finished too.

 Richard

Well then, about it. But hearest thou, Catesby? Meanwhile, I will listen after success of the duke of Buckingham, who is laboring all this while with the citizens of London to make me king, which I hope shall be shortly. For thou seest our foes now are fewer and we nearer the mark than before, and when I have it, look thou for the place of thy friend the Lord Hastings. Meanwhile, about thy business.

 Catesby

I thank your grace.

 Exit Catesby. Richard

To the Page Now, sirrah, to thee. There is one thing more undone, which grieves me more than all the rest, and to say the truth it is of more importance than all the rest.

 Page

Ah, that my lord would utter it to his page, then should I count myself a happy man if I could ease my lord of that great doubt.

 Richard

I commend thy willingness, but it is too mighty and reacheth the stars.

 Page

The more weighty it is the sooner shall I, by doing it, increase your honour’s good liking toward me.

 Richard

Be assured of that, but the matter is of weight and great importance and doth concern the state.

 Page

Why, my lord, I will choke them with gifts that shall perform it. Therefore, good my lord, trust me in this cause.

 Richard

Indeed, thy trust I know to be so true that I care not to utter it unto thee. Come hither—and yet the matter is too weighty for so mean a man.

 Page

Yet, good my lord, utter it.

 Richard

Why, thus it is. I would have my two nephews, the young prince and his brother, secretly murdered. Zounds, villain, ’tis out! Wilt thou do it? Or wilt thou betray me?

 Page

My lord, you shall see my forwardness herein. I am acquainted with one James Tyrrell, that lodgeth hard by your honour’s chamber. With him, my lord, will I so work that soon at night you shall speak with him.

 Richard

Of what reputation or calling is that Tyrrell? May we trust him with that which once known were the utter confusion of me and my friends forever?

 Page

For his trust, my lord, I dare be bound. Only this: a poor gentleman he is, hoping for preferment by your grace, and upon my credit, my lord, he will see it done.

 Richard

Well, in this be very circumspect and sure with thy diligence. Be liberal and look for a day to make thee bless thyself wherein thou servedst so good a lord. And now that Shore’s wife’s goods be confiscate, go from me to the bishop of London and see that she receive her open penance. Let her be turned out of prison, but so bare as a wretch that worthily hath deserved that plague; and let there be straight proclamation made by my lord the mayor that none shall relieve her, nor pity her, and privy spies set in every corner of the City, that they may take notice of them that relieves her. For as her beginning was most famous above all, so will I have her end most infamous above all. Have care now, my boy, and win thy master’s heart forever.

 Exeunt.
Scene 11 Enter Shore’s wife. Shore’s Wife

Ah, unfortunate Shore’s wife! Dishonour to the king, a shame to thy country, and the only blot of defame to all thy kindred! Aie, why was I made fair that a king should favor me? But my friends should have preferred discipline before affection, for they know of my folly. Yea, my own husband knew of my breach of disloyalty and yet suffered me, by reason he knew it bootless to kick against the prick. Ah, sweet King Edward, little didst thou think Shore’s wife should have been so hardly used. Thy unnatural brother, not content with my goods which are yet confiscate in his custody, but yet more to add to my present misery, hath proclaimed upon great penalty that none whatsoever shall either aid or succor me, but, here being comfortless, to die in the streets with hunger. I am constrained to beg, but I fear ’tis in vain, for none will pity me. Yet here come one to whom I have done good, in restoring his lands that were lost. Now will I try him to see if he will give me anything.

 Enter Lodowick. Lodowick

Ah, time, how thou suff’rest fortune to alter estates and changest the minds of the good for the worst! How many headless peers sleep in their graves whose places are furnished with their inferiors such as are neither nobly born nor virtuously minded. My heart hardly bewails the loss of the young king by the outrage of the protector, who hath proclaimed himself king by the name of Richard the Third. The commons murmur at it greatly that the young king and his brother should be imprisoned, but to what end? ’Tis hard to say, but many thinks they shall never come forth again. But God do all for the best and that the right heirs may not be utterly overthrown.

 Shore’s Wife

Aside Ah, gods, what a grief is it for me to ask where I have given.

 Lodowick

Aside Ah, my good Lord Hastings, how innocently thou diedst, the heavens bear witness!

 Shore’s Wife

Good sir, take pity upon me and relieve me.

 Lodowick

Indeed ’tis pity to see so fair a face to ask for alms. But tell me, hast thou no friends?

 Shore’s Wife

Yes, sir, I had many friends, but when my chiefest friend of all died, the rest then forsook me.

 Lodowick

Belike then thy fact was notorious, that thy friends, leaving thee, would let thee go as a spoil for villains. But, hearst thou, I prithee tell me the truth, and as I am a gentleman, I will pity thee.

 Shore’s Wife

Ah, Lodowick, tell thee the truth? Why, half this entreaty served thee when thy lands had been clean gone had it not been for Shore’s wife, and dost thou make me so long to beg for a little?

 Lodowick

Indeed, my lands I had restored me by Mistress Shore, but may this be she?

 Shore’s Wife

Ay, Lodowick, I am she that begged thy lands of King Edward the Fourth. Therefore, I pray thee, bestow something on me.

 Lodowick

Aside Ah, gods, what is this world, and how uncertain are riches? Is this she that was in such credit with the king? Nay, more, that could command a king indeed? I cannot deny but my lands she restored me, but shall I, by relieving of her, hurt myself? No, for straight proclamation is made that none shall succor her. Therefore for fear I should be seen talk with her, I will shun her company and get me to my chamber, and there set down in heroical verse the shameful end of a king’s concubine, which is no doubt as wonderful as the desolation of a kingdom.

 Shore’s Wife

Ah, Lodowick! If thou wilt give me nothing, yet stay and talk with me—Exit Lodowick. Ah, no, he shuns my company. All my friends now forsake me. In prosperity I had many, but in adversity none. Ah, gods, have I this for my good I have done, for when I was in my chiefest pomp, I thought that day well spent wherein I might pleasure my friend by suits to the king, for if I had spoken, he would not have said nay. For though he was king, yet Shore’s wife swayed the sword. Ay, where need was, there was I bountiful, and mindful I was still upon the poor to relieve them; and now none will know me nor succor me. Therefore here shall I die for want of sustenance. Yet here comes another whom I have done good unto in saving the life of his son. Well, I will try him to see if he will give me anything.

 Enter a Citizen and another. Citizen

No men, no laws, no princes, no orders! All’s hushed, neighbour, now he’s king, but before he was king how was the Thames thwacked with ruffians? What frays had we in the streets? Now he hath proclaimed peace between Scotland and England for six years, to what end I know not. Usurpers had need to be wise.

 Shore’s Wife

Ah good sir, relieve me, and bestow something upon me.

 Citizen

Ah, neighbour, hedges have eyes and highways have ears. But who is’t? A beggar-woman? The streets are full of them, i’faith. But here’s thou, hast thou no friends that thou goest a-begging so?

 Shore’s Wife

Yes, sir, I had friends, but they are all dead as you are.

 Citizen

Why, am I dead, neighbour? Why, thou arrant quean, what meanst thou by that?

 Shore’s Wife

I mean they are dead in charity. But I pray, sir, had not you the life of your son saved in the time of King Edward the fourth by one Shore’s wife?

 Citizen

Yes, marry, had I, but art thou a sprig of the same bough? I promise you, neighbour, I thought so, that so idle a housewife could not be without the acquaintance of so noble a strumpet! Well, for her sake, I’ll give thee somewhat. He opens purse.

 Shore’s Wife

Nay then, know that I am she that saved the life of thy condemned son.

 Citizen

Who art thou? Shore’s wife? Lie still, purse! He closes purse. Neighbour, I would not for twenty pounds have given her one farthing, the proclamation is so hard by King Richard. Why, minion, are you she that was the dishonour to the king? The shame to her husband, the discredit to the City? Hear you. Lay your fingers to work, and get thereby somewhat to maintain you. Oh, neighbour, I grow very choleric, an thou didst save the life of my son. Why, if thou hadst not, another would, and for my part I would he had been hanged seven years ago: it had saved me a great deal of money then. But come. Let us go in and let the quean alone.

 Exeunt Citizens. Shore’s Wife

Alas, thus am I become an open shame to the world! Here shall I die in the streets for want of sustenance. Alas, is my fact so heinous that none will pity me? Yet here comes another to whom I have done good, who is least able to pleasure me; yet I will try him to see if he will give me anything.

 Enter Morton, a serving man. Morton

Now, sir, who but King Richard bears sway and hath proclaimed John earl of Lincoln heir apparent to the crown? The young princes, they are in the Tower. Nay, some says more: they are murdered. But this makes me to muse the Duke of Buckingham and the king is at such variance, that did all in all to help him to the crown, but the Duke of Buckingham is rid down to Brecknock Castle in Wales, and there he means to raise up a power to pull down the usurper. But let them agree as they will, for the next fair wind I’ll overseas.

 Shore’s Wife

Aside Ah, Shore’s wife, so near driven to beg of a servingman? Ay, necessity hath no law. I must needs.—Good sir, relieve me and give me something.

 Morton

Why, what art thou?

 Shore’s Wife

In brief, Morton, I am Shore’s wife, that have done good to all.

 Morton

A fool, and ever thy own enemy. In troth, Mistress Shore, my store is but small, yet as it is we’ll part stakes.—But soft. I cannot do what I would. I am watched.

 Enter Richard’s Page. Shore’s Wife

Good Morton, relieve me.

 Morton

What, should I relieve my king’s enemy?

 Shore’s Wife

Why, thou promised thou wouldst.

 Morton

I tell thee I will not, and so be answered. Aside to Shore’s wife Zounds, I would with all my heart but for yonder villain. A plague on him!

 Exit Morton. Page

An honest fellow, I warrant him.—How now, Shore’s wife, will none relieve thee?

 Shore’s Wife

No, none will relieve her that hath been good to all.

 Page

Why, ’twere pity to do thee good,—but methinks she is fulsome and stinks.

 Shore’s Wife

If I be fulsome, shun my company, for none but thy lord sought my misery and he hath undone me.

 Page

Why, hath he undone thee? Nay, thy wicked and naughty life hath undone thee, but if thou wantest maintenance, why dost thou not fall to thy old trade again?

 Shore’s Wife

Nay, villain, I have done open penance and am sorry for my sins that are past.

 Page

Zounds, is Shore’s wife become an holy whore? Nay, then we shall never have done.

 Shore’s Wife

Why, hang thee. If thy faults were so written in thy forehead as mine is, it would be as wrong with thee. But I prithee leave me, and get thee from me.

 Page

And cannot you keep the City but you must run gadding to the court? An you stay here a little longer, I’ll make you be set away, and for my part, would all whores were so served; then there would be fewer in England than there be. And so farewell, good Mistress Shore.

 Exit Page. Shore’s Wife

And all such usurping kings as thy lord is may come to a shameful end, which no doubt I may live yet to see. Therefore, sweet God, forgive all my foul offence,

And though I have done wickedly in this world, Into hellfire let not my soul be hurled! Exit Shore’s wife.
Scene 12 Enter Master James Tyrrell and Sir Robert Brakenbury with a letter and keys. Brakenbury

Master Tyrrell, the king hath written that for one night I should deliver you the keys and put you in full possession. But, good Master Tyrrell, may I be so bold to demand a question without offence?

 Tyrrell

Else God forbid. Say on, whate’er it be.

 Brakenbury

Then this, Master Tyrrell. For your coming I partly know the cause, for the king oftentimes hath sent to me to have them both dispatched, but because I was a servant to their father, being Edward the fourth, my heart would never give me to do the deed.

 Tyrrell

Why, Sir Robert, you are beside the matter. What need you use such speeches? What matters are between the king and me I pray you leave it, and deliver me the keys.

 Brakenbury

Ah, here with tears I deliver you the keys, and so farewell, Master Tyrrell.

 Brakenbury gives keys to Tyrrell. Exit. Tyrrell

Alas, good Sir Robert. He is kindhearted, but it must not prevail: what I have promised the king I must perform. Calling off.—But ho, Myles Forrest!

 Enter Myles Forrest Forrest

Here, sir.

 Tyrrell

Myles Forrest, have you got those men I spake of? They must be resolute and pitiless.

 Forrest

I warrant you sir, they are such pitiless villains that all London cannot match them for their villainy. One of their names is Will Slaughter, yet the most part calls him Black Will; the other is Jack Denton: two murderous villains that are resolute.

 Tyrrell

I prithee call them in that I may see them and speak with them.

 Forrest

Calling offstage Ho, Will and Jack!

 Enter Will Slaughter and Jack Denton Slaughter

Here, sir, we are at hand.

 Forrest

These be they that I told you of.

 Tyrrell

Come hither, sirs. To make a long discourse were but a folly. You seem to be resolute in this cause that Myles Forrest hath delivered to you. Therefore you must cast away pity and not so much as think upon favor, for the more stern that you are, the more shall you please the king.

 Slaughter

Zounds, sir, ne’er talk to us of favor. ’Tis not the first that Jack and I have gone about.

 Tyrrell

Well said, but the king’s pleasure is this: that he will have no bloodshed in the deed doing. Therefore let me hear your advises.

 Forrest

Why then, I think this, Master Tyrrell, that as they sit at supper, there should be two dags ready charged and so suddenly to shoot them both through.

 Tyrrell

No, I like not that so well. What sayest thou, Will? What is thy opinion?

 Slaughter

Tush, here’s more ado than needs. I pray bring me where they are, and I’ll take them by the heels and beat their brains against the walls.

 Tyrrell

Nay, that I like not, for ’tis too tyrannous.

 Denton

Then hear me, Master Tyrrell. Let Will take one and I’ll take another, and, by the life of Jack Denton, we’ll cut both their throats.

 Tyrrell

Nay, sirs, then hear me. I will have it done in this order. When they be both abed and at rest, Myles Forrest, thou shalt bring them up both, and between two feather-beds smother them both.

 Forrest

Why, this is very good. But stand aside, for here comes the princes. I’ll bring you word when the deed is done.

 Exit Tyrrell. Forrest, Slaughter and Denton stand aside. Enter the princes. Duke of York

How fares my noble lord and loving brother?

 Edward V

Ah, worthy brother, Richard Duke of York, my cause of sorrow is not for myself, but this is it that adds my sorrow more. To see our uncle, whom our father left as our protector in minority, should so digress from duty, love, and zeal, so unkindly thus to keep us up prisoners and know no sufficient cause for it.

 Duke of York

Why, brother, comfort yourself, for though he detain us awhile he will not keep us long, but at last he will send us to our loving mother again, whither if it please God to send us I doubt not but our mother would keep us so safe that all the prelates in the world should not deprive her of us again. So much I assure myself of. But here comes Myles Forrest. Forrest steps forward. I prithee Myles, tell my kingly brother some merry story to pass away the time, for thou seest he is melancholy.

 Edward V

No, Myles, tell me no merry story but answer me to one question. What was he that walked with thee in the garden? Methought he had the keys.

 Forrest

My lord, it was one that was appointed by the king to be an aide to Sir Thomas Brakenbury.

 Edward V

Did the king? Why, Myles Forrest, am not I king?

 Forrest

I would have said, my lord, your uncle the protector.

 Edward V

Nay, my kingly uncle I know he is now, but let him enjoy both crown and kingdom so my brother and I may but enjoy our lives and liberty. But tell me, is Sir Robert Brakenbury clean discharged?

 Forrest

No, my lord, he hath but charge for a night or two.

 Edward V

Nay then, new officers, new laws? Would we had kept the old still. But who are they whose ghastly looks doth present a dying fear to my living body? I prithee tell me, Myles, what are they?

 Forrest

One, my lord, is called Jack Denton, the other is called Will Slaughter.—But why starts your grace?

 Edward V

Slaughter? I pray God he come not to slaughter my brother and me, for from murder and slaughter good Lord deliver us! But tell me, Myles, is our lodging prepared?

 Forrest

Ay, my lord, if it please your brother and you to walk up.

 Edward V

Then come, brother, we will go to bed.

 Forrest

I will attend upon your grace.

 Duke of York

Come, Myles Forrest, bear us company.

 Forrest

Aside to Slaughter and Denton Sirs, stay you two here, and when they are asleep I’ll call you up.

 Exit Forrest with the princes. Denton

I promise thee, Will, it grieves me to see what moan these young princes make. I had rather than forty pounds I had ne’er ta’en it in hand. ’Tis a dangerous matter to kill innocent princes. I like it not.

 Slaughter

Why, you base slave, are you faint-hearted? A little thing would make me strike thee, I promise thee.

 Denton

Nay, go forward, for now I am resolute. But come, let’s to it.

 Slaughter

I prithee stay, he’ll call us up anon. But, sirrah Jack, didst thou mark how the king started when he heard my name? What will he do when he feels me?

 Forrest re-enters. Forrest

But ho, sirs, come softly, for now they are at rest.

 Slaughter

Come, we are ready.—Moving upstage to look on the sleeping boys. By the mass they are asleep indeed.

 Slaughter and Denton smother the princes in their beds. Forrest remains downstage. Forrest

I hear they sleep, and sleep, sweet princes. One of the Princes cries out Never wake no more, for you have seen the last light in this world.

 Denton

Calling from upstage Come press them down—it boots not to cry again! Jack, upon them—so—lustily! Slaughter and Denton come forward. But Master Forrest, now they are dead, what shall we do with them?

 Forrest

Why, go and bury them at the heap of stones at the stair foot while I go and tell Master Tyrrell that the deed is done.

 Slaughter

Well, we will. Farewell, Master Forrest.

 Exeunt Slaughter and Denton with the bodies. Enter Tyrrell to meet Forrest. Tyrrell

How now, Myles Forrest, is this deed dispatched?

 Forrest

Ay, sir, a bloody deed we have performed.

 Tyrrell

But tell me: what hast thou done with them?

 Forrest

I have conveyed them to the stairs’ foot among a heap of stones, and anon I’ll carry them where they shall be no more found again, nor all the chronicles shall ne’er make mention what shall become of them. Yet, good Master Tyrrell, tell the king my name that he may but reward me with a kingly thanks.

 Tyrrell

I will go certify the king with speed that Myles Forrest, Will Slaughter, and Jack Denton, they three have done the deed. And so farewell.

 Exeunt all
Scene 13 Enter Ralph Banastre followed by his master, the Duke of Buckingham with his dagger drawn. Banastre

Ah, good my lord, save my life.

 Buckingham

Ah, villain, how canst thou ask for mercy when thou hast so unjustly betrayed me?

 Banastre

I desire your grace but give me leave to speak.

 Buckingham

Ay, speak thy last, villain, that those that hear it may see how unjustly thou hast betrayed me.

 Banastre

Then thus, my lord. First, the proclamation was death to him that harbored your grace.

 Buckingham

Ah, villain, and a thousand crowns to him that could betray me.

 Banastre

Ah, my lord, my obeisance to my prince is more.

 Buckingham

Ah, villain, thou betrayedst me for lucre and not for duty to thy prince. Why, Banastre, a good servant thinks his life well-spent that spends it in the quarrel of his master. But, villain, make thyself ready and here receive thy death.

 Buckingham goes to stab Banastre. Enter a Herald with his men. Herald

Henry, Duke of Buckingham, I arrest thee in King Richard’s name as a traitor.

 Buckingham

Well, herald, I will obey thy ’rest. But am I arrested in King Richard’s name: usurping Richard, that insatiate bloodsucker, that traitor to God and man? Ah, Richard, did I in Guildhall plead the orator for thee and held thee in all thy sly and wicked practices, and for my reward dost thou allot me death? Ah, Buckingham, thou playedst thy part and made him king, and put the lawful heirs besides. Why then is Buckingham guilty now of his death? Yet had not the bishop of Ely fled, I had escaped.

 Enter six others armed to rescue the duke. All

Come, the Duke of Buckingham shall not die! We will take him away by force.

 Herald

Why, villains, will you be traitors to your prince?

 Buckingham

Nay, good my friends, give me leave to speak and let me entreat you to lay your weapons by. Then know this, countrymen. The cause I am arrested thus is for bringing in your lawful king, which is Henry earl of Richmond, now in Brittany, and means ere long to land at Milford Haven in Wales, where I do know he shall have aid of the chiefest of the Welsh. He is your lawful king, and this a wrongful usurper. When you shall hear of him landed in that place, then take up weapons and amain to him: he is the man must reave you of this yoke and send the usurper headless to his home. Falling to his knees And poor Buckingham prays upon his knees to bless good Richmond in his enterprise. And when the conquest shall be given to him, grant he may match with Lady Elizabeth as promise hath to’fore by him been passed. While then, my friends, leave me alone to death and let me take this punishment in peace. Aside Ah, Buckingham, was not thy meaning good in displacing the usurper to raise a lawful king? Ah, Buckingham, it was too late: the lawful heirs were smothered in the Tower. Sweet Edward and thy brother, I ne’er slept quiet thinking of your deaths. But vaunt, Buckingham, thou wast altogether innocent of their deaths. To Banastre But thou, villain, whom of a child I nursed thee up, and hast so unjustly betrayed thy lord? Let the curse of Buckingham ne’er depart from thee. Let vengeance, mischiefs, tortures light on thee and thine. And after death thou mayst more torture feel than when Ixion turns the restless wheel, and ban thy soul where’er thou seem to rest. Rising, speaking to his supporters. But come, my friends, let me away.

 Herald

My lord, we are sorry, but come.—To Buckingham’s followers. Lay hands on Banastre.

 Exeunt.
Scene 14 Enter King Richard, crowned, Sir William Catesby and others. Richard To himself The goal is got and golden crown is won, And well deservest thou to wear the same That ventured hast thy body and thy soul. But what boots Richard now the diadem Or kingdom got by murder of his friends? My fearful shadow that still follows me Hath summoned me before the severe judge; My conscience, witness of the blood I spilt, Accuseth me as guilty of the fact, The fact a damnèd judgment craves— Whereas impartial justice hath condemned. Methinks the crown which I before did wear, Enchased with pearl and costly diamonds, Is turnèd now into a fatal wreath Of fiery flames and ever-burning stars, And raging fiends hath passed their ugly shapes In Stygian lakes addressed to tend on me. If’t be thus—what wilt thou do i’this extremity? Nay! What canst thou do to purge thee of thy guilt? E’en repent, crave mercy for thy damnèd fact? To the audience Appeal for mercy to thy righteous god? Ha, repent? Not I. Crave mercy they that list, Thy god is none of mine. To himself Then Richard, be thus resolved To pace thy soul in valance with their blood, Soul for soul and body for body— Yea, marry, Richard. That’s good.—To Catesby Catesby! Catesby approaches. Catesby You called, my lord, I think? Richard

To himself It may be so. To Catesby—But what thinkst thou, Catesby?

 Catesby

Of what, my lord?

 Richard

Why, of all these troubles.

 Catesby

Why, my lord, I hope to see them happily overcomed.

 Richard

How, villain? Dost thou hope to see me happily overcomed?

 Catesby

Who? You, my lord?

 Richard

Ay, villain, thou points at me. Thou hopest to see me overcomed?

 Catesby

No, my good lord. Your enemies, or else not.

 Richard

Ha, ha, good Catesby! But what hearest thou of the Duke of Buckingham?

 Catesby

Why, he is dead, my lord. He was executed at Salisbury yesterday.

 Richard

Why, ’tis impossible! His friends hopes that he shall outlive me, to be my head.

 Catesby

Outlive you, lord? That’s strange.

 Richard

No, Catesby, if ’a do, it must be in fames, and since they hope he shall outlive me to be my head, he hops without his head and rests among his fellow rebels.

 Catesby

Marry, no force, my lord.

 Richard

But, Catesby, what hearest thou of Henry, earl of Richmond?

 Catesby

Not a word, my lord.

 Richard

No? Hearest thou not he lives in Brittany, in favor with the duke? Nay, more, Lady Margaret, his mother, conspires against us and persuades him that he is lineally descended from Henry IV, and that he hath right to the crown. Therefore tell me what thinkst thou of the earl?

 Catesby

My lord, I think of the earl as he doth deserve, a most famous gentleman.

 Richard

Villain, dost thou praise my foe and commend him to my face?

 Catesby

Nay, my lord, I wish he were as good a friend as he is a foe, else the due deserts of a traitor.

 Richard

What’s that?

 Catesby

Why, my lord, to lose his head.

 Richard

Yea, marry, I would ’twere off quickly, then! But more to the strengthening of his title: she goes about to marry him to the queen’s eldest daughter, Lady Elizabeth.

 Catesby

Indeed, my lord, that I heard was concluded by all the nobility of Brittany.

 Richard

Why, then there it goes: the great devil of hell go with all! A marriage begun in mischief shall end in blood. I think that accursed sorceress the Mother Queen doth nothing but bewitch me and hatcheth conspiracies and brings out perilous birds to wound their country’s weal. The earl is up in arms, and with him many of the nobility. He hath aid in France, he is rescued in Brittany, and meaneth shortly to arrive in England. But all this spites me not so much as his escape from Landais, the duke’s treasurer, who, if he had been pricked forth for revenge, he had ended all by apprehending of our foe, but now he is in disgrace with the duke and we farther off our purpose than to’fore. But the earl hath not so many biting dogs abroad as we have sleeping curs at home here, ready for rescue.

 Catesby

But, my lord, I marvel how he should get aid there, considering he is no friend to Brittany.

 Richard

Ay, so thou mayst marvel how the Duke of Brittany durst wake such a foe as England against him, but evil fare makes open war.—But who comes there, Catesby? Ha, one of our spurs to revenge: the Lord Stanley, father-in-law to Lady Margaret. His coming is to us, Catesby, were’t not that his life might serve for apprehension against our foe. He should have neither judge nor jury, but guilty death without any more ado. Enter Lord Stanley and his son George. To Stanley Now Lord Stanley, what news? Have you received any letters of your late embassage into Brittany? What answer have you received of your letters?

 Stanley

Why, my lord, for that I sent I have received.

 Richard

And how doth your son then? Is he in health?

 Stanley

For his health, my lord, I do not mistrust.

 Richard

Faith, tell us, when means he to arrive in England? And how many of our nobility is with him? And what power is with him?

 Stanley

An’t please your grace, his power is unknown to me, nor willingly would not I be privy to such causes.

 Richard

Oh, good words, Lord Stanley, but give me leave to glean out of your golden field of eloquence how brave you plead ignorance as though you knew not of your son’s departure into Brittany out of England?

 Stanley

Not I, my lord.

 Richard

Why, is not his mother thy wife, and dares he pass over without the blessing of his mother, whose husband thou art?

 Stanley

I desire your majesty but give me leave to speak.

 Richard

Yea, speak, Stanley. No doubt some fine-coloured tale!

 Stanley

An’t like your grace, whereas you mistrust that I knew of my son’s departure out of England into Brittany, God I take to record, it was unknown to me, nor know not yet what his pretense is. For at his departure, was I one of the privy council to your brother King Edward the fourth, and that she was able to relieve him without my help. I hope her sufficiency is known to your grace. Therefore, I humbly crave pardon.

 Richard

Well, Stanley, I fear it will be proved to the contrary that thou didst furnish him both with money and munition, which if it be, then look for no favor at my hands but the due deserts of a traitor. But let this pass. What’s your repair to our presence?

 Stanley

Only this, my lord, that I may repair from the court to my house in the country.

 Richard

Ay, sir, that you might be in Cheshire and Lancashire? Then should your posts pass invisible into Brittany and you to depart the realm at your pleasure, or else I to suffer an intolerable foe under me, which I will not. But, Stanley, to be brief, thou shalt not go. Aside But soft, Richard, but that it were better to be alone than to have noisome company, he shall go, leaving for his loyalty a sufficient pledge. To Stanley Come hither, Stanley. Thou shalt go, leaving me here thy son and heir, George Stanley, for a pledge, that he may perish for thy fault if need should be. If thou likest this, go. If not, answer me briefly and say quickly no.

 Stanley

Aside I am to advise myself upon a secret cause, and of a matter that concerns me near. Say that I leave my son unto the king and that I should but aid Earl Richmond, my son George Stanley dies, but if my faith be kept unto my prince, George Stanley lives. Well, I will accept the king’s proffer. To Richard An’t please your grace, I am content, and will leave my son to pledge.

 Richard beckons Stanley and George to approach Richard

Here, come hither and with thee take this lesson. Thou art set free for our defense. Thou shalt upon thy pledge make this promise, not only to stay the hindrance of the earl, but to prevent his purpose with thy power. Thou shalt not seek by any means to aid or rescue him. This done, of my life, thy son doth live, but otherwise thy son dies, and thou too, if I catch thee, and it shall go hard but I will catch thee.

 Stanley

Aside And you shall go apace, and yet go without me. To Richard But I humbly take my leave of your grace.—To George Farewell, George.

 George Stanley kneels and Lord Stanley blesses him. Richard

How now! What, do you give him letters?

 Stanley

No, my lord, I have done. The second sight is sweet of such a son.

 Stanley embraces George. Exit Stanley. Richard

To an attendant Carry George Stanley to prison.

 George Stanley

Alas, my lord, shall I go to prison?

 Richard

Shall you go to prison? What a question’s that? Exeunt attendant and George Stanley. So prick the lamb, and wound the dam. How likest thou this, Catesby?

 Catesby

Oh, my lord, so excellent that you have imprisoned his son.

 Richard

Nay, now, will we look to the rest? But I sent the Lord Lovell to the Mother Queen concerning my suit to her daughter Elizabeth. But see in good time, here he is. Enter Lovell. How now Lovell, what news? What sayeth the Mother Queen to my suit?

 Lovell

My lord, very strange she was at the first, but when I had told her the cause she gave consent, desiring your majesty to make the nobility privy to it.

 Richard

God have mercy, Lovell, but what said Lady Elizabeth?

 Lovell

Why, my lord, strange, as women will be at the first, but through entreaty of her mother, she quickly gave consent, and the queen willed me to tell your grace that she means to leave sanctuary and to come to the court with all her daughters.

 Richard

Ay, marry, Lovell, let not that opportunity slip. Look to it, Catesby. Be careful for it, Lovell, for thereby hangs such a chance that may enrich us and our heirs forever. But, sirs, heard ye nothing of the Scottish nobles that met at Nottingham to confer about the marriage of my niece?

 Catesby

Not a word, my lord.

 Enter a Messenger. Richard

Gog’s wounds, who is that? Search the villain. Has he any dags about him?

 Messenger

No, my lord, I have none.

 Richard

From whence comes thou?

 Messenger

From the peers at Nottingham and Scotland, and they greet your majesty.

 Lovell

Sirrah, is the marriage concluded between the Scottish earl and the fair Lady Rosa?

 Catesby

Prithee tell us, is it concluded?

 Page

How sayest thou, is it concluded?

 Richard

Nay, will you give me leave to tell you that? Why, you villains! Will you know the secrets of my letter by interrupting messengers that are sent to me? Away, I say, begone! It is time to look about. Away, I say! What, here yet, villains?

 Exeunt Lovell, Page, and Catesby. Messenger

My lord, I have somewhat to say besides.

 Richard

Then speak it. What hast thou to say?

 Messenger

This, my lord. When the peers of England and Scotland met at Nottingham together to confer about the marriage of your niece, it was straight determined that she should be married with the Scottish earl. And further, my lord, the council commanded me to deliver unto your grace the treasons of Captain Blount, who had the earl of Oxford in charge in Hammes Castle. Now are they both fled and purposeth to aid the earl of Richmond against your grace. Now my lord, I take my leave.

 Richard

Messenger, stay. Hath Blount betrayed? Doth Oxford rebel and aid the Earl Richmond? May this be true? What, is our prison so weak, our friends so fickle, our ports so ill looked to, that they may pass and repass the seas at their pleasures? Then everyone conspires, spoils our complex, conquers our castles, and arms themselves with their own weapons unresisted? Oh, villains, rebels, fugitives, thieves! How are we betrayed, when our own swords shall beat us and our own subjects seeks the subversion of the state, the fall of their prince, and sack of their country, of his? Nay, neither must, nor shall, for I will arm me with my friends and cut off my enemies, and beard them to their face that dares me, and but one, ay, one, one beyond the seas that troubles me. Well, his power is weak, and we are strong. Therefore, I will meet him with such melody that the singing of a bullet shall send him merrily to his longest home. Come, follow me.

 Exeunt.
Scene 15 Enter earl of Richmond, the earl of Oxford, Pierre Landais, and Captain Blount. Richmond Welcome, dear friends and loving countrymen. Welcome, I say, to England’s blissful isle, Whose forwardness I cannot but commend, That thus do aid us in our enterprise. My right it is, and sole inheritance, And Richard but usurps in my authority, For in his tyranny he slaughtered those That would not succor him in his attempts, Whose guiltless blood craves daily at God’s hands Revenge for outrage done to their harmless lives. Then courage, countrymen, and never be dismayed! Our quarrel’s good and God will help the right, For we may know by dangers we have passed That God no doubt will give us victory. Oxford If love of gold or fear of many foes Could once have daunted us in our attempts, Thy foot had never touched the English shore, And here Earl Oxford plights his faith to thee Never to leave in what we have underta’en, But follow still with resolution Till thou be crowned as conqueror in the field Or lose thy life in following of thy right— Thy right, brave Richmond, which we will maintain Maugre the proudest bird of Richard’s brood. Then, cousin Richmond, being resolvèd thus, Let us straight to arms, and God and St. George for us! Blount As this brave earl have said, so say we all. We will not leave thee till the field be won, Which, if with fortunate success we can perform, Think then, Earl Richmond, that I followed thee, And that shall be honour enough for me. Landais So sayeth Landais, that honours Richmond so With love unfeignèd for his valor past That, if your honour lead the way to death, Pierre Landais hath sworn to follow thee. For if Queen Mother do but keep her word, And what the peers have promised be performed Touching the marriage with Elizabeth, Daughter to our King Edward the fourth, And by this marriage join in unity Those famous houses, Lancaster and York, Then England shall no doubt have cause to say Edward’s coronation was a joyful day, And this is all Landais desires to see. Richmond Thanks, Landais, and hear Earl Richmond’s vows: If their kind promises take but effect, That as they have promised I be made king, I will so deal in governing the state, Which now lies like a savage sheltered grove Where brambles, briars, and thorns o’ergrow those sprigs, Which—if they might but spring to their effect And not be crossed so by their contraries, Making them subject to these outrages— Would prove such members of the commonweal That England should in them be honourèd As much as ever was the Roman state When it was governed by the council’s rule. And I will draw my sword, brave countrymen, And never leave to follow my resolve Till I have mowed those brambles, briars, and thorns That hinder those that long to do us good. Oxford Why, we have scaped the dangerous’t brunt of all, Which was his garrison at Milford Haven. Shall we dismay or daunt our friends to come Because he took the Duke of Buckingham? No, worthy friends and loving countrymen. Oxford did never bear so base a mind: He will not wink at murders secretly put up, Nor suffer upstarts to enjoy our rights, Nor live in England under an usurping king! And this is Oxford’s resolution. Someone knocks. Richmond But, Blount, look who’s that knocks. Blount goes to the door and returns. Blount My lord, ’tis a messenger from the Mother Queen And the Lady Stanley, your mother, with letters. Richmond Admit him straight.—Now shall we hear some news. Enter Messenger with letters. Messenger

Long live earl Richmond. The Mother Queen doth greet your honour.

 Richmond

Welcome, my friend. How fares our mother and the rest?

 Messenger

In health, my lord, and glad to hear of your arrival safe.

 The messenger gives Richmond letters, which he reads. Richmond

My friend, my mother hath written to me of certain that are coming in our aid, the report of whose names are referred to thee to deliver.

 Messenger

First, there’s the Lord Talbot, the earl of Shrewsbury’s son and heir, with a brave band of his own. There is also the Lord FitzHerbert, the earl of Pembroke’s son and heir. Of the gentlemen of the Welsh, there is Sir Rhys ap Thomas, and Sir Thomas ap Richard, and Sir Owen Williams, brave gentlemen, my lord. These are the chief.

 Richmond

Are these the full number of all that come?

 Messenger

Only two more, my lord, which I have left unnamed: the one is Sir Thomas Dennis, a western gentleman, and joined with him one Arnold Butler. A great many are willing, but dares not as yet.

 Richmond

Doth Arnold Butler come? I can hardly brook his treachery, for he it was that wrought my disgrace with the king.

 Oxford

Well, my lord, we are now to strengthen ourselves with friends, and not to reap up old quarrels. Say that Arnold Butler did injure you in the time of peace; the ’mends is twice made if he stand with you in the time of wars.

 Richmond gestures to Blount, who offers the Messenger a purse Richmond

Well, my friend, take this for thy good news and commend me to our mother and the rest. Thus, my lords, you see God still provides for us!

Exit Messenger. But now, my lords—Touching the placing of our battle best, And how we may be least endangerèd: Because I will be foremost in this fight To encounter with that bloody murderer, Myself will lead the vaward of our troop. My lord of Oxford, you, as our second self, Shall have the happy leading of the rear, A place I know which you will well deserve; And Captain Blount, Pierre Landais and you Shall by in quarters, as our battle’s scouts Provided. Thus, your bowmen, Captain Blount, Must scatter here and there to gall their horse, As also when that our promised friends do come. Then must you hold hard skirmish with our foes Till I, by cast of a countermarch, Have joined our power with those that come to us. Then, casting close, as wings on either side, We will give a new bravado on the foe. Therefore, let us towards Atherstone amain, Where we this night, God willing, will encamp. From thence, towards Lichfield we will march next day, And, nearer London, bid King Richard play. Exeunt.
Scene 16 Enter Richard’s Page. Page Where shall I find a place to sigh my fill And wail the grief of our sore-troubled king? For now he hath obtained the diadem, But with such great discomfort to his mind That he had better lived a private man. His looks are ghastly, Hideous to behold, and from the privy centre of his heart There comes such deep-fetched sighs and fearful cries That being with him in his chamber oft He moves me weep and sigh for company. For if he hear one stir, he riseth up And claps his hand upon his dagger straight Ready to stab him, whatsoe’er he be. But he must think this is the just revenge The heavens have poured upon him for his sins. Those peers which he unkindly murderèd Doth cry for justice at the hands of God, And he in justice sends continual fear For to affright him both at bed and board. But stay, what noise is this? Who have we here? Enter two men traveling to go to Richmond. How now, sirs, whither are you going so fast? 1 Man Why, to Earl Richmond’s camp to serve with him, For we have left to serve King Richard now. Page Why, comes there any more? 2 Man A number more. Exeunt men. Page

Why, these are the villains my lord would have put his life into their hands! Ah, Richard, now do my eyes witness that thy end is at hand, for thy commons make no more account of thee than of a private man. Yet will I, as duty binds, give thee advertisements of their unjust proceedings. My master hath lifted out many, and yet hath left one to lift him out of all—not only of his crown, but also of his life. But I will in, to tell my lord of what is happened. Exit.
Scene 17 Enter Richmond and Oxford. Richmond

Good my lord, depart and leave me to myself.

 Oxford

I pray my lord, let me go along with you.

 Richmond

My lord, it may not be for I have promised my father that none shall come but myself. Therefore, good my lord, depart.

 Oxford

Good my lord, have a care of yourself. I like not these night walks and scouting abroad in the evenings so disguised, for you must not, now that you are in the usurper’s dominions, and you are the only mark he aims at. And your last night’s absence bred such amazement in our soldiers that they, like men wanting the power to follow arms, were on a sudden more liker to fly than to fight. Therefore, good my lord, if I may not stand near, let me stand aloof off.

 Richmond

Content thee, good Oxford, and though I confess myself bound to thee for thy especial care, yet at this time, I pray thee, hold me excused. But farewell, my lord. Here comes my lord and father.

 Exit Oxford. Enter Stanley and another, a captain of Stanley’s army. Stanley

Captain, I pray thee bring me word when thou dost descry the enemy. And so farewell and leave me for awhile.

 Exit Captain. Richmond

How fares my gracious lord and father?

 Stanley

In good health, my son, and the better to see thee thus forward in this laudable enterprise. But omitting vain circumstances and to come briefly to the purpose, I am now in few words to deliver much matter. For know this, when I came to crave leave of the king to depart from the court, the king very furiously began to charge me that I was both acquainted with thy practices and drifts and that I knew of thy landing, and by no means would grant me leave to go till, as pledge of my loyalty and true dealing with the king, I should leave my young son George Stanley. Thus have I left my son in the hands of a tyrant only of purpose to come and speak with thee.

 Richmond

But omitting this, I pray tell me, shall I look for your help in the battle?

 Stanley

Son, I cannot, for as I will not go to the usurper, no more I will not come to thee.

 Richmond

Why, then it is bootless for us to stay, for all we presumed upon was on your aid.

 Stanley

Why, son, George Stanley’s death would do you no pleasure.

 Richmond

Why, the time is too troublesome for him to tend to follow execution.

 Stanley

Oh, son, tyrants expect no time, and George Stanley, being young and a gristle, is the more easy to be made away.

 Richmond

This news goes to my heart, but ’tis in vain for me to look for victory when, with a molehill, we shall encounter with a mountain.

 Stanley

Why, son, see how contrary you are. For I assure you, the chiefest of his company are liker to fly to thee than to fight against thee, and for me, think me not so simple but that I can at my pleasure fly to thee, or being with them, fight so faintly that the battle shall be won on thy part with small encountering. And note this besides that the king is now come to Leicester and means tomorrow to bid thee battle in Bosworth.

 Enter Messenger. Messenger

Come, my lord, I do descry the enemy.

 Stanley

Why then, son, farewell. I can stay no longer.

 Richmond

Yet, good father, one word more ere you depart. What number do you think the king’s power to be?

 Stanley

Marry, some twenty thousand. And so farewell.

 Exeunt Stanley and Messenger. Richmond

And we hardly five thousand, being beset with many enemies, hoping upon a few friends? Yet despair not, Richmond, but remember thou fightest in right to defend thy country from the tyranny of an usurping tyrant; therefore, Richmond, go forward. The more dangerous the battle is in attaining, it proves the more honourable being obtained. Then forward, Richmond, God and Saint George for me!

Quisquam regno gaudet, ô fallax bonum. Exit.
Scene 18 Enter King Richard and the Lord Lovell. Richard The hell of life that hangs upon the crown, The daily cares, the nightly dreams, The wretched crews, the treason of the foe, And horror of my bloody practice past Strikes such a terror to my wounded conscience That sleep I, wake I, or whatsoever I do, Methinks their ghosts comes gaping for revenge Whom I have slain in reaching for a crown. Clarence complains and cryeth for revenge. My nephews’ bloods Revenge, revenge doth cry. The headless peers comes pressing for revenge, And every one cries Let the tyrant die! The sun by day shines hotly for revenge. The moon by night eclipseth for revenge. The stars are turned to comets for revenge. The planets change their courses for revenge. The birds sing not, but sorrow for revenge, The silly lambs sits bleating for revenge. The shrieking raven sits croaking for revenge. Whole heads of beasts comes bellowing for revenge. And all, yea, all the world I think, Cries for revenge, and nothing but revenge. But to conclude, I have deserved revenge. In company I dare not trust my friend; Being alone, I dread the secret foe. I doubt my food lest poison lurk therein, My bed is uncouth, rest refrains my head. Then such a life I count far worse to be Than thousand deaths unto a damnèd death! How, wast death I said? Who dare attempt my death? Nay, who dare so much as once to think my death? Though enemies there be that would my body kill, Yet shall they leave a never-dying mind. But you villains, rebels, traitors as you are, How came the foe in, pressing so near? Where, where slept the garrison that should’ve beat them back? Where was our friends to intercept the foe? All gone, quite fled, his loyalty quite laid abed? Lovell Then vengeance, mischief, horror with mischance, Wildfire with whirlwinds light upon your heads That thus betrayed your prince by your untruth! Richard

To himself Frantic man, what meanst thou by this mood? Now he is come, more need to beat him back.

 Lovell

Sour is his sweet that savors thy delight; great is his power that threats thy overthrow.

 Richard

To himself The bad rebellion of my foe is not so much as for to see my friends do fly in flocks from me.

 Lovell

May it please your grace to rest yourself content, for you have power enough to defend your land.

 Richard

To himself Dares Richmond set his foot on land with such a small power of straggling fugitives?

 Lovell

May it please your grace to participate the cause that thus doth trouble you?

 Richard

To Lovell The cause, buzzard? What cause should I participate to thee? My friends are gone away and fled from me! Keep silence, villain, lest I by post do send thy soul to hell. Not one word more if thou dost love thy life.

 Enter Catesby with the Page, a messenger and attendant lords. Catesby

My lord—

 Richard

Yet again, villain?—Oh, Catesby, is it thou? What, comes the Lord Stanley or no?

 Catesby

My lord, he answers no.

 Richard

Why, didst not tell him then I would send his son George Stanley’s head to him?

 Catesby

My lord, I did so, and he answered he had another son left to make Lord Stanley.

 Richard

Oh, villain vile, and breaker of his oath! The bastard’s ghost shall haunt him at the heels and cry revenge for his vile father’s wrongs! Go, Lovell, Catesby, fetch George Stanley forth. Him with these hands will I butcher for the dead, and send his headless body to his sire.

 Catesby

Leave off executions now! The foe is here that threatens us most cruelly of our lives.

 Richard

Zounds, foe me no foes! The father’s fact condemns the son to die.

 Lovell

But guiltless blood will for revengement cry.

 Richard

Why, was not he left for father’s loyalty?

 Lovell

Therein his father greatly injured him.

 Richard

Did not yourselves in presence see the bonds sealed and assigned?

 Lovell

What though my lord the verdicts own, the titles doth resign.

 Richard

The bond is broke and I will sue the fine except you will hinder me. What, will you have it so?

 Lovell

In doing true justice; else we answer no.

 Richard

His treacherous father hath neglect his word and done impartial past by dint of sword. To the Page Therefore, sirrah, go fetch him. The Page does not move. Zounds! Draw you cuts who shall go. Lovell and the Page do not move. To Catesby I bid you go, Catesby. Catesby does not move—Ah, Richard, now mayst thou see thy end at hand.—To Catesby and Lovell Why, sirs, why fear you thus? Why, we are ten to one. If you seek promotion, I am a king already in possession, better able to perform than he. Lovell, Catesby, let’s join lovingly and devoutly together and I will divide my whole kingdom amongst you.

 Catesby, Lovell

We will, my lord.

 Richard

We will, my lord? Ah, Catesby, thou lookest like a dog, and thou, Lovell, too, but you will run away with them that be gone, and the devil go with you all. Catesby and Lovell exit. To himself God, I hope—God? What talk I of God that have served the devil all this while? No, Fortune and courage for me, and join England against me with England; join Europe with Europe, come Christendom, and with Christendom the whole world, and yet I will never yield but by death only. By death—no! Die? Part not childishly from thy crown, but—come the devil to claim it—strike him down and, though that Fortune hath decreed to set revenge with triumphs on my wretched head, yet death, sweet death, my latest friend, hath sworn to make a bargain for my lasting fame. And this, ay, this very day, I hope with this lame hand of mine to rake out that hateful heart of Richmond and, when I have it, to eat it panting hot with salt and drink his blood lukewarm, though I be sure ’twill poison me. To the Page and attendant lords Sirs, you that be resolute, follow me, the rest, go hang yourselves!

 Exit Richard, with the Page and attendant lords.
Scene 19 The battle enters, Richard wounded, with his Page. Richard

A horse, a horse, a fresh horse!

 Page

Ah, fly, my lord, and save your life!

 Richard

Fly, villain? Look I as though I would fly? No, first shall this dull and senseless ball of earth receive my body cold and void of sense. To the skies—You watery heavens, roll on my gloomy day, and darksome clouds, close up my cheerful sound! Down is thy sun, Richard, never to shine again. The birds whose feathers should adorn my head hovers aloft and dares not come in sight; yet faint not, man, for this day, if Fortune will, shall make thee king possessed with quiet crown. If Fates deny, this ground must be my grave. Yet golden thoughts that reached for a crown, daunted before by Fortune’s cruel spite, are come as comforts to my drooping heart and bids me keep my crown and die a king. These are my last. What more I have to say, I’ll make report among the damned souls.

 A clamor of noise from off-stage, with trumpet and drum. Exit the Page. Enter Richmond to battle again, and kills Richard. Exeunt Richmond and his men, bearing Richard’s body.
Scene 20 Enter Report and the Page. Report

How may I know the certain true report of this victorious battle fought today? My friend, whate’er thou be’st, tell unto me the true report. Which part hath won the victory, whether the king or no?

 Page

Ah, no, the king is slain and he hath lost the day, and Richmond he hath won the field and triumphs like a valiant conqueror.

 Report

But who is slain besides our lord and sovereign?

 Page

Slain is the worthy Duke of Norfolk. He, and with him Sir Robert Brakenbury, lieutenant of the Tower; besides, Lovell—he made also a partner in this tragedy.

 Report

But where’s Sir William Catesby?

 Page

He is this day beheaded on a stage at Leicester, because he took part with my lord the king. But stay, Report, and thou shalt hear me tell the brief discourse and how the battle fell. Then know, Report, that Richard came to field mounted on horseback, with as high resolve as fierce Achilles ’mongst the sturdy Greeks, whom to encounter worthy Richmond came accompanied with many followers. And then my lord displayed his colours straight, and with the charge of trumpet, drum, and fife, these brave battalions straight encountered, but in the skirmish which continued long my lord gan faint, which Richmond straight perceived and presently did sound afresh alarm. But worthy Richard that did never fly, but followed honour to the gates of death, straight spurred his horse to encounter with the earl, in which encounter Richmond did prevail. And taking Richard at advantage, then he threw his horse and him both to the ground and there was worthy Richard wounded so that after that he ne’er recovered strength.

But to be brief, my master would not yield, But with his loss of life he lost the field.

Report, farewell.

 Exit the Page. Report remains.
Scene 21 Enter the earl of Richmond, Earl Oxford, Lord Stanley, and their train, with the crown. Richmond

Now, noble peers and worthy countrymen, since God hath given us fortune of the day, let us first give thanks unto his deity. They pray. And next, with honours fitting your deserts, I must be grateful to my countrymen and worthy Oxford for thy service shown in hot encountering of the enemy. Earl Richmond binds himself in lasting bonds of faithful love and perfect unity. Sorry I am for those that I have lost by our so dangerous encountering with the foe, but sorrow cannot bring the dead to life, and therefore are my sorrows spent in vain. Only to those that live, thus much I say: I will maintain them with a manual pay.—To Lord Stanley. And, loving father, lastly to yourself, though not the least in our expected aid, we give more thanks for your unlooked-for aid than we have power on sudden to declare. But for your thanks I hope it shall suffice that I in nature love and honour you.

 Stanley

Well spoken, son, and like a man of worth whose resolution in this battle past hath made thee famous ’mongst thy enemies. And think, my son, I glory more to hear what praise the common people gave of thee than if the peers by general full consent had set me down to wear the diadem. Then live, my son, thus loved of thy friends, and for thy foes prepare to combat them.

 Oxford

And Oxford vows perpetual love to thee, wishing as many honours to Earl Richmond as Caesar had in conquering the world, and I doubt not but if fair Fortune follow thee to see thee honoured ’mongst thy countrymen as Hector was among the lords of Troy, or Tully ’mongst the Roman senators.

 Enter Mother Queen and Elizabeth. Richmond

How fares our lovely Mother Queen?

 Mother Queen

In health, Earl Richmond. Glad to hear the news that God hath given thee fortune of the day. But tell me, lords, where is my son Lord Marquess Dorset that he is not here? What, was he murdered in this tragedy?

 Richmond

No, lovely queen, your son doth live in France, for being distressed and driven by force of tempest to that shore, and many of our men being sick and dead, we were enforced to ask the king for aid as well for men as for munition, which then the king did willingly supply provided that as hostage for those men Lord Marquess Dorset should be pledge with them. But, madam, now our troubled war is done, Lord Marquess Dorset shall come home again.

 Mother Queen

Richmond, gramercies for thy kind good news, which is no little comfort to thy friends to see how God hath been thy happy guide in this late conquest of our enemies. And, Richmond, as thou art returned with victory, so we will keep our words effectually.

 Richmond

Then, madam, for our happy battle’s victory, first thanks to heaven, next to my forward countrymen. But madam, pardon me though I make bold to charge you with a promise that you made which was confirmed by diverse of the peers touching the marriage of Elizabeth, and having ended what I promised you, madam, I look and hope to have my due.

 Stanley

Then know my son, the peers by full consent in that thou hast freed them from a tyrant’s yoke, have by election chosen thee as king. First in regard they account thee virtuous; next, for that they hope all foreign broils shall cease and thou wilt guide and govern them in peace. Then sit thou down, my son, and here receive the crown of England, as thy proper own. Sit down. Stanley places the crown on Richmond’s head.

 Oxford

Henry the Seventh, by the grace of God, king of England, France, and lord of Ireland! God save the king!

 All

Long live Henry the Seventh, King of England!

 Richmond

Thanks, loving friends and my kind countrymen, and here I vow in presence of you all to root abuses from this commonwealth, which now flows faster than the furious tide that overflows beyond the banks of Nile. And, loving father and my other friends whose ready forwardness hath made me fortunate, Richmond will still in honourable love count himself to be at your dispose, nor do I wish to enjoy a longer life than I shall live to think upon your love.—But what sayeth fair Elizabeth to us? For now we have welcomed our other friends, I must bid you welcome, lady, amongst the rest, and in my welcome crave to be resolved how you resolve touching my proffered love unto you. Here your mother and the peers agree, and all is ended if you condescend.

 Elizabeth

Then know, my lord, that if my mother please, I must in duty yield to her command. For when our aged father left his life he willed us honour still our mother’s age, and therefore as my duty doth command, I do commit myself to her dispose.

 Mother Queen

Then here my lord, receive thy royal spouse, virtuous Elizabeth, for both the peers and commons do agree that this fair princess shall be wife to thee. And we pray all that fair Elizabeth may live for ay and never yield to death.

 Richmond

And so say I. Thanks to you all, my lords, that thus have honoured Richmond with a crown, and if I live then make account, my lords: I will deserve this with more than common love.

 Stanley

And now were but my son George Stanley here, How happy were our present meeting then! But he is dead, nor shall I evermore see my sweet boy whom I do love so dear, for well I know the usurper in his rage hath made a slaughter of my aged joy.

 Richmond

Take comfort, gentle father, for I hope my brother George will ’turn in safe to us.

 Stanley

Ah, no, my son, for he that joys in blood will work his fury on the innocent.

 Enter two messengers with George Stanley. Stanley

But how now, what noise is this?

 Messenger

Behold, Lord Stanley, we bring thy son, thy son George Stanley, whom with great danger we have saved from fury of a tyrant’s doom.

 Lord Stanley and George Stanley embrace. Stanley

And lives George Stanley? Then happy that I am to see him freed thus from a tyrant’s rage! Welcome, my son, my sweet George, welcome home.

 George Stanley

Thanks, my good father, and George Stanley joys to see you joined in this assembly. And like a lamb kept by a greedy wolf within the enclosed centre of the earth, expecting death without delivery, even from this danger is George Stanley come to be a guest to Richmond and the rest. For when the bloody butcher heard your honour did refuse to come to him, he (like a savage tiger then enraged) commanded straight I should be murdered and sent these two to execute the deed. But they—George gestures to the Messengers with emotion but they that knew how innocent I was—did post him off with many long delays, alleging reasons to allay his rage, but ’twas in vain, for he, like to a starved lioness, still called for blood, saying that I should die. But to be brief, when both the battles joined, these two and others shifted me away.

 Lord Stanley shakes the Messengers’ hands and embraces George Stanley once more. Richmond Now seeing that each thing turns to our content, I will it be proclaimèd presently That trait’rous Richard— Be by our command drawn through the streets of Leicester. Stark naked on a collier’s horse let him be laid, For as of others’ pains he had no regard, So let him have a traitor’s due reward. Now for our marriage and our nuptial rites, Our pleasure is they be solemnized In our abbey of Westminster, According to the ancient custom due, The two and twentieth day of August next. Set forwards then, my lords, towards London straight, There to take further order for the state. The Mother Queen, Princess Elizabeth, and two Messengers turn to address the audience directly. Richmond and his train move to the rear of the stage.
Epilogue 1 Messenger

Thus, gentles, may you here behold the joining of these houses both in one by this brave prince Henry VII, who was for wit compared to Solomon. His government was virtuous every way, and God did wondrously increase his store. He did subdue a proud rebellious lord that did encounter him upon Blackheath. He died when he had reigned full three and twenty years, eight months and some odd days, and lies buried in Westminster. He died and left behind a son.

 2 Messenger

A son he left, a Harry of that name, a worthy, valiant, and victorious prince, for on the fifth year of his happy reign, he entered France, and to the Frenchmens’ costs, he won Thérouanne and Tournai. The emperor served this king for common pay, and as a mercenary prince did follow him. Then after Morlaix conquered he, and still did keep the Frenchmen at a bay. And lastly, in this king’s decreasing age, he conquered Boulogne, and after when he was turned home he died when he had reigned full thirty-eight years, nine months and some odd days, and was buried in Windsor. He died and left three famous sprigs behind him. Edward VI, he did restore the gospel to his light and finished that his father left undone. A wise young prince given greatly to his book, he brought the English service first in use, and died when he had reigned six years, five months and some odd days, and lieth buried in Westminster.

 Elizabeth

Next after him, a Mary did succeed, which married Philip, king of Spain. She reigned five years, four months and some odd days, and is buried in Westminster. When she was dead, her sister did succeed.

 Mother Queen

Worthy Elizabeth, a mirror in her age by whose wise life and civil government her country was defended from the cruelty of famine, fire and sword, wars, fearful messengers.

This is that queen as writers truly say That God had markèd down to live for ay. Then happy England ’mongst thy neighbour isles For peace and plenty still attends on thee, And all the favorable planets smiles To see thee live in such prosperity. She is that lamp that keeps fair England’s light, And through her faith her country lives in peace; And she hath put proud Antichrist to flight, And been the means that civil wars did cease. Then England, kneel upon thy hairy knee, And thank that God that still provides for thee, The Turk admires to hear her government, And babies in Jewry sound her princely name. All Christian princes to that prince hath sent, After her rule was rumoured forth by fame. The Turk hath sworn never to lift his hand To wrong the princess of this blessèd land. ’Twere vain to tell the care this queen hath had In helping those that were oppressed by war, And how her majesty hath still been glad When she hath heard of peace proclaimed from far. Geneva, France and Flanders hath set down The good she hath done since she came to the crown, For which if e’er her life be ta’en away, God grant her soul may live in heaven for ay. For if her grace’s days be brought to end, Your hope is gone on whom did peace depend. All exeunt.
Finis.