Richard III

Richard
Have done thy charm, thou hateful, withered hag.
Queen Margaret
And leave out thee? Stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me.
If heaven have any grievous plague in store
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,
O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe
And then hurl down their indignation
On thee,
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Queen Margaret
O princely Buckingham, I’ll kiss thy hand
In sign of league and amity with thee.
Now fair befall thee and thy noble house!
Thy garments are not spotted with our blood,
Nor thou within the compass of my curse.
Buckingham
Nor no one here, for curses never pass
The lips of those that breathe them in the air.
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Richard
I do the wrong and first begin to brawl.
The secret mischiefs that I set abroach
I lay unto the grievous charge of others.

And thus I clothe my naked villainy
With odd old ends stol’n forth of Holy Writ,
And seem a saint when most I play the devil.

Clarence, who I indeed have cast in darkness,
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King Edward
Is Clarence dead? The order was reversed.
Richard
But he, poor man, by your first order died,
And that a wingèd Mercury did bear.
Some tardy cripple bare the countermand,
That came too lag to see him burièd.
God grant that some, less noble and less loyal,
Nearer in bloody thoughts,
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Richard, to Prince Edward
Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts’ sovereign.
The weary way hath made you melancholy.
Prince
No, uncle, but our crosses on the way
Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy.
I want more uncles here to welcome me.

Your Grace attended to their sugared words
But looked not on the poison of their hearts.
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Prince Edward
Say, uncle Gloucester, if our brother come,
Where shall we sojourn till our coronation?
Richard
Where it seems best unto your royal self.
If I may counsel you, some day or two
Your Highness shall repose you at the Tower;
Then where you please and shall be thought most fit
For your best health and recreation.
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York
I pray you, uncle, give me this dagger.
Richard
My dagger, little cousin? With all my heart.
Prince
A beggar, brother?
York
Of my kind uncle, that I know will give,
And being but a toy, which is no grief to give.

To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle,
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Buckingham, to Richard
Think you, my lord, this little prating York
Was not incensèd by his subtle mother
To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously?
Richard
No doubt, no doubt. O, ’tis a parlous boy,
Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable.
He is all the mother’s, from the top to toe.

If thou dost find him tractable to us,
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King Edward
Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?
Lady Grey
Ay, full as dearly as I love myself.
Anadiplosis & EpistropheKing Edward
And would you not do much to do them good?
Lady Grey
To do them good I would sustain some harm.
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Nobleman
My gracious lord, Henry, your foe, is taken
And brought your prisoner to your palace gate.
King Edward
See that he be conveyed unto the Tower.
  Nobleman exits.
And go we, brothers, to the man that took him,
To question of his apprehension.—
Widow, go you along.—Lords, use her honorably.
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