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King Richard III
act ii   Scene 2.
William Shakespeare
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       London. The palace
       Enter the old DUCHESS OF YORK, with the SON and DAUGHTER of CLARENCE
       SON
       Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead?
       DUCHESS
       No, boy.
       DAUGHTER
       Why do you weep so oft, and beat your breast,
       And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!'?
       SON
       Why do you look on us, and shake your head,
       And call us orphans, wretches, castaways,
       If that our noble father were alive?
       DUCHESS
       My pretty cousins, you mistake me both;
       I do lament the sickness of the King,
       As loath to lose him, not your father's death;
       It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost.
       SON
       Then you conclude, my grandam, he is dead.
       The King mine uncle is to blame for it.
       God will revenge it; whom I will importune
       With earnest prayers all to that effect.
       DAUGHTER
       And so will I.
       DUCHESS
       Peace, children, peace! The King doth love you
       well.
       Incapable and shallow innocents,
       You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death.
       SON
       Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester
       Told me the King, provok'd to it by the Queen,
       Devis'd impeachments to imprison him.
       And when my uncle told me so, he wept,
       And pitied me, and kindly kiss'd my cheek;
       Bade me rely on him as on my father,
       And he would love me dearly as a child.
       DUCHESS
       Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shape,
       And with a virtuous vizor hide deep vice!
       He is my son; ay, and therein my shame;
       Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit.
       SON
       Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam?
       DUCHESS
       Ay, boy.
       SON
       I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this?
       Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, with her hair about her ears; RIVERS and DORSET after her
       QUEEN ELIZABETH
       Ah, who shall hinder me to wail and
       weep,
       To chide my fortune, and torment myself?
       I'll join with black despair against my soul
       And to myself become an enemy.
       DUCHESS
       What means this scene of rude impatience?
       QUEEN ELIZABETH
       To make an act of tragic violence.
       EDWARD, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead.
       Why grow the branches when the root is gone?
       Why wither not the leaves that want their sap?
       If you will live, lament; if die, be brief,
       That our swift-winged souls may catch the King's,
       Or like obedient subjects follow him
       To his new kingdom of ne'er-changing night.
       DUCHESS
       Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow
       As I had title in thy noble husband!
       I have bewept a worthy husband's death,
       And liv'd with looking on his images;
       But now two mirrors of his princely semblance
       Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death,
       And I for comfort have but one false glass,
       That grieves me when I see my shame in him.
       Thou art a widow, yet thou art a mother
       And hast the comfort of thy children left;
       But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms
       And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble hands-
       Clarence and Edward. O, what cause have I-
       Thine being but a moiety of my moan-
       To overgo thy woes and drown thy cries?
       SON
       Ah, aunt, you wept not for our father's death!
       How can we aid you with our kindred tears?
       DAUGHTER
       Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd;
       Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept!
       QUEEN ELIZABETH
       Give me no help in lamentation;
       I am not barren to bring forth complaints.
       All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes
       That I, being govern'd by the watery moon,
       May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world!
       Ah for my husband, for my dear Lord Edward!
       CHILDREN
       Ah for our father, for our dear Lord Clarence!
       DUCHESS
       Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence!
       QUEEN ELIZABETH
       What stay had I but Edward? and he's
       gone.
       CHILDREN
       What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone.
       DUCHESS
       What stays had I but they? and they are gone.
       QUEEN ELIZABETH
       Was never widow had so dear a loss.
       CHILDREN
       Were never orphans had so dear a loss.
       DUCHESS
       Was never mother had so dear a loss.
       Alas, I am the mother of these griefs!
       Their woes are parcell'd, mine is general.
       She for an Edward weeps, and so do I:
       I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she.
       These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I:
       I for an Edward weep, so do not they.
       Alas, you three on me, threefold distress'd,
       Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse,
       And I will pamper it with lamentation.
       DORSET
       Comfort, dear mother. God is much displeas'd
       That you take with unthankfulness his doing.
       In common worldly things 'tis called ungrateful
       With dull unwillingness to repay a debt
       Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent;
       Much more to be thus opposite with heaven,
       For it requires the royal debt it lent you.
       RIVERS
       Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother,
       Of the young prince your son. Send straight for him;
       Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives.
       Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave,
       And plant your joys in living Edward's throne.
       Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF
       GLOUCESTER
       Sister, have comfort. All of us have cause
       To wail the dimming of our shining star;
       But none can help our harms by wailing them.
       Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy;
       I did not see your Grace. Humbly on my knee
       I crave your blessing.
       DUCHESS
       God bless thee; and put meekness in thy breast,
       Love, charity, obedience, and true duty!
       GLOUCESTER
       Amen! [Aside] And make me die a good old
       man!
       That is the butt end of a mother's blessing;
       I marvel that her Grace did leave it out.
       BUCKINGHAM
       You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing
       peers,
       That bear this heavy mutual load of moan,
       Now cheer each other in each other's love.
       Though we have spent our harvest of this king,
       We are to reap the harvest of his son.
       The broken rancour of your high-swol'n hearts,
       But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together,
       Must gently be preserv'd, cherish'd, and kept.
       Me seemeth good that, with some little train,
       Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fet
       Hither to London, to be crown'd our King.
       RIVERS
       Why with some little train, my Lord of
       Buckingham?
       BUCKINGHAM
       Marry, my lord, lest by a multitude
       The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out,
       Which would be so much the more dangerous
       By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd;
       Where every horse bears his commanding rein
       And may direct his course as please himself,
       As well the fear of harm as harm apparent,
       In my opinion, ought to be prevented.
       GLOUCESTER
       I hope the King made peace with all of us;
       And the compact is firm and true in me.
       RIVERS
       And so in me; and so, I think, in all.
       Yet, since it is but green, it should be put
       To no apparent likelihood of breach,
       Which haply by much company might be urg'd;
       Therefore I say with noble Buckingham
       That it is meet so few should fetch the Prince.
       HASTINGS
       And so say I.
       GLOUCESTER
       Then be it so; and go we to determine
       Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow.
       Madam, and you, my sister, will you go
       To give your censures in this business?
       Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOUCESTER
       BUCKINGHAM
       My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince,
       For God's sake, let not us two stay at home;
       For by the way I'll sort occasion,
       As index to the story we late talk'd of,
       To part the Queen's proud kindred from the Prince.
       GLOUCESTER
       My other self, my counsel's consistory,
       My oracle, my prophet, my dear cousin,
       I, as a child, will go by thy direction.
       Toward Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind.
       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.