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King Richard III
act iii   Scene 7.
William Shakespeare
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       London. Baynard's Castle
       Enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM, at several doors
       GLOUCESTER
       How now, how now! What say the citizens?
       BUCKINGHAM
       Now, by the holy Mother of our Lord,
       The citizens are mum, say not a word.
       GLOUCESTER
       Touch'd you the bastardy of Edward's
       children?
       BUCKINGHAM
       I did; with his contract with Lady Lucy,
       And his contract by deputy in France;
       Th' insatiate greediness of his desire,
       And his enforcement of the city wives;
       His tyranny for trifles; his own bastardy,
       As being got, your father then in France,
       And his resemblance, being not like the Duke.
       Withal I did infer your lineaments,
       Being the right idea of your father,
       Both in your form and nobleness of mind;
       Laid open all your victories in Scotland,
       Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace,
       Your bounty, virtue, fair humility;
       Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose
       Untouch'd or slightly handled in discourse.
       And when mine oratory drew toward end
       I bid them that did love their country's good
       Cry 'God save Richard, England's royal King!'
       GLOUCESTER
       And did they so?
       BUCKINGHAM
       No, so God help me, they spake not a word;
       But, like dumb statues or breathing stones,
       Star'd each on other, and look'd deadly pale.
       Which when I saw, I reprehended them,
       And ask'd the Mayor what meant this wilfull silence.
       His answer was, the people were not used
       To be spoke to but by the Recorder.
       Then he was urg'd to tell my tale again.
       'Thus saith the Duke, thus hath the Duke inferr'd'-
       But nothing spoke in warrant from himself.
       When he had done, some followers of mine own
       At lower end of the hall hurl'd up their caps,
       And some ten voices cried 'God save King Richard!'
       And thus I took the vantage of those few-
       'Thanks, gentle citizens and friends,' quoth I
       'This general applause and cheerful shout
       Argues your wisdoms and your love to Richard.'
       And even here brake off and came away.
       GLOUCESTER
       What, tongueless blocks were they? Would
       they not speak?
       Will not the Mayor then and his brethren come?
       BUCKINGHAM
       The Mayor is here at hand. Intend some fear;
       Be not you spoke with but by mighty suit;
       And look you get a prayer-book in your hand,
       And stand between two churchmen, good my lord;
       For on that ground I'll make a holy descant;
       And be not easily won to our requests.
       Play the maid's part: still answer nay, and take it.
       GLOUCESTER
       I go; and if you plead as well for them
       As I can say nay to thee for myself,
       No doubt we bring it to a happy issue.
       BUCKINGHAM
       Go, go, up to the leads; the Lord Mayor
       knocks.
       Exit GLOUCESTER
       Enter the LORD MAYOR, ALDERMEN, and citizens
       Welcome, my lord. I dance attendance here;
       I think the Duke will not be spoke withal.
       Enter CATESBY
       Now, Catesby, what says your lord to my request?
       CATESBY
       He doth entreat your Grace, my noble lord,
       To visit him to-morrow or next day.
       He is within, with two right reverend fathers,
       Divinely bent to meditation;
       And in no worldly suits would he be mov'd,
       To draw him from his holy exercise.
       BUCKINGHAM
       Return, good Catesby, to the gracious Duke;
       Tell him, myself, the Mayor and Aldermen,
       In deep designs, in matter of great moment,
       No less importing than our general good,
       Are come to have some conference with his Grace.
       CATESBY
       I'll signify so much unto him straight.
       Exit
       BUCKINGHAM
       Ah ha, my lord, this prince is not an Edward!
       He is not lolling on a lewd love-bed,
       But on his knees at meditation;
       Not dallying with a brace of courtezans,
       But meditating with two deep divines;
       Not sleeping, to engross his idle body,
       But praying, to enrich his watchful soul.
       Happy were England would this virtuous prince
       Take on his Grace the sovereignty thereof;
       But, sure, I fear we shall not win him to it.
       MAYOR
       Marry, God defend his Grace should say us nay!
       BUCKINGHAM
       I fear he will. Here Catesby comes again.
       Re-enter CATESBY
       Now, Catesby, what says his Grace?
       CATESBY
       My lord,
       He wonders to what end you have assembled
       Such troops of citizens to come to him.
       His Grace not being warn'd thereof before,
       He fears, my lord, you mean no good to him.
       BUCKINGHAM
       Sorry I am my noble cousin should
       Suspect me that I mean no good to him.
       By heaven, we come to him in perfect love;
       And so once more return and tell his Grace.
       Exit CATESBY
       When holy and devout religious men
       Are at their beads, 'tis much to draw them thence,
       So sweet is zealous contemplation.
       Enter GLOUCESTER aloft, between two BISHOPS. CATESBY returns
       MAYOR
       See where his Grace stands 'tween two clergymen!
       BUCKINGHAM
       Two props of virtue for a Christian prince,
       To stay him from the fall of vanity;
       And, see, a book of prayer in his hand,
       True ornaments to know a holy man.
       Famous Plantagenet, most gracious Prince,
       Lend favourable ear to our requests,
       And pardon us the interruption
       Of thy devotion and right Christian zeal.
       GLOUCESTER
       My lord, there needs no such apology:
       I do beseech your Grace to pardon me,
       Who, earnest in the service of my God,
       Deferr'd the visitation of my friends.
       But, leaving this, what is your Grace's pleasure?
       BUCKINGHAM
       Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above,
       And all good men of this ungovern'd isle.
       GLOUCESTER
       I do suspect I have done some offence
       That seems disgracious in the city's eye,
       And that you come to reprehend my ignorance.
       BUCKINGHAM
       You have, my lord. Would it might please
       your Grace,
       On our entreaties, to amend your fault!
       GLOUCESTER
       Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land?
       BUCKINGHAM
       Know then, it is your fault that you resign
       The supreme seat, the throne majestical,
       The scept'red office of your ancestors,
       Your state of fortune and your due of birth,
       The lineal glory of your royal house,
       To the corruption of a blemish'd stock;
       Whiles in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts,
       Which here we waken to our country's good,
       The noble isle doth want her proper limbs;
       Her face defac'd with scars of infamy,
       Her royal stock graft with ignoble plants,
       And almost should'red in the swallowing gulf
       Of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion.
       Which to recure, we heartily solicit
       Your gracious self to take on you the charge
       And kingly government of this your land-
       Not as protector, steward, substitute,
       Or lowly factor for another's gain;
       But as successively, from blood to blood,
       Your right of birth, your empery, your own.
       For this, consorted with the citizens,
       Your very worshipful and loving friends,
       And by their vehement instigation,
       In this just cause come I to move your Grace.
       GLOUCESTER
       I cannot tell if to depart in silence
       Or bitterly to speak in your reproof
       Best fitteth my degree or your condition.
       If not to answer, you might haply think
       Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded
       To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty,
       Which fondly you would here impose on me;
       If to reprove you for this suit of yours,
       So season'd with your faithful love to me,
       Then, on the other side, I check'd my friends.
       Therefore-to speak, and to avoid the first,
       And then, in speaking, not to incur the last-
       Definitively thus I answer you:
       Your love deserves my thanks, but my desert
       Unmeritable shuns your high request.
       First, if all obstacles were cut away,
       And that my path were even to the crown,
       As the ripe revenue and due of birth,
       Yet so much is my poverty of spirit,
       So mighty and so many my defects,
       That I would rather hide me from my greatness-
       Being a bark to brook no mighty sea-
       Than in my greatness covet to be hid,
       And in the vapour of my glory smother'd.
       But, God be thank'd, there is no need of me-
       And much I need to help you, were there need.
       The royal tree hath left us royal fruit
       Which, mellow'd by the stealing hours of time,
       Will well become the seat of majesty
       And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign.
       On him I lay that you would lay on me-
       The right and fortune of his happy stars,
       Which God defend that I should wring from him.
       BUCKINGHAM
       My lord, this argues conscience in your
       Grace;
       But the respects thereof are nice and trivial,
       All circumstances well considered.
       You say that Edward is your brother's son.
       So say we too, but not by Edward's wife;
       For first was he contract to Lady Lucy-
       Your mother lives a witness to his vow-
       And afterward by substitute betroth'd
       To Bona, sister to the King of France.
       These both put off, a poor petitioner,
       A care-craz'd mother to a many sons,
       A beauty-waning and distressed widow,
       Even in the afternoon of her best days,
       Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye,
       Seduc'd the pitch and height of his degree
       To base declension and loath'd bigamy.
       By her, in his unlawful bed, he got
       This Edward, whom our manners call the Prince.
       More bitterly could I expostulate,
       Save that, for reverence to some alive,
       I give a sparing limit to my tongue.
       Then, good my lord, take to your royal self
       This proffer'd benefit of dignity;
       If not to bless us and the land withal,
       Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry
       From the corruption of abusing times
       Unto a lineal true-derived course.
       MAYOR
       Do, good my lord; your citizens entreat you.
       BUCKINGHAM
       Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer'd love.
       CATESBY
       O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit!
       GLOUCESTER
       Alas, why would you heap this care on me?
       I am unfit for state and majesty.
       I do beseech you, take it not amiss:
       I cannot nor I will not yield to you.
       BUCKINGHAM
       If you refuse it-as, in love and zeal,
       Loath to depose the child, your brother's son;
       As well we know your tenderness of heart
       And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,
       Which we have noted in you to your kindred
       And egally indeed to all estates-
       Yet know, whe'er you accept our suit or no,
       Your brother's son shall never reign our king;
       But we will plant some other in the throne
       To the disgrace and downfall of your house;
       And in this resolution here we leave you.
       Come, citizens. Zounds, I'll entreat no more.
       GLOUCESTER
       O, do not swear, my lord of Buckingham.
       Exeunt BUCKINGHAM, MAYOR, and citizens
       CATESBY
       Call him again, sweet Prince, accept their suit.
       If you deny them, all the land will rue it.
       GLOUCESTER
       Will you enforce me to a world of cares?
       Call them again. I am not made of stones,
       But penetrable to your kind entreaties,
       Albeit against my conscience and my soul.
       Re-enter BUCKINGHAM and the rest
       Cousin of Buckingham, and sage grave men,
       Since you will buckle fortune on my back,
       To bear her burden, whe'er I will or no,
       I must have patience to endure the load;
       But if black scandal or foul-fac'd reproach
       Attend the sequel of your imposition,
       Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me
       From all the impure blots and stains thereof;
       For God doth know, and you may partly see,
       How far I am from the desire of this.
       MAYOR
       God bless your Grace! We see it, and will say it.
       GLOUCESTER
       In saying so, you shall but say the truth.
       BUCKINGHAM
       Then I salute you with this royal title-
       Long live King Richard, England's worthy King!
       ALL
       Amen.
       BUCKINGHAM
       To-morrow may it please you to be crown'd?
       GLOUCESTER
       Even when you please, for you will have it so.
       BUCKINGHAM
       To-morrow, then, we will attend your Grace;
       And so, most joyfully, we take our leave.
       GLOUCESTER
       [To the BISHOPS] Come, let us to our holy
       work again.
       Farewell, my cousin; farewell, gentle friends.
       Exeunt
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Dramatis Personae
act i
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
   Scene 4.
act ii
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
   Scene 4.
act iii
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
   Scene 4
   Scene 5.
   Scene 6.
   Scene 7.
act iv
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
   Scene 4.
   Scene 5.
act v
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
   Scene 4.
   Scene 5.