The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: s6r - Histories, p. 199

Left Column


The Life and Death of Richard the Third.
[3070]
How now, what newes?
Enter Ratcliffe. Rat. Most mightie Soueraigne, on the Westerne Coast Rideth a puissant Nauie: to our Shores Throng many doubtfull hollow‑hearted friends, Vnarm'd, and vnresolu'd to beat them backe.
[3075]
'Tis thought, that Richmond is their Admirall: And there they hull, expecting but the aide Of Buckingham, to welcome them ashore.
Rich. Some light‑foot friend post to yͤ Duke of Norfolk: Ratcliffe thy selfe, or Catesby, where is hee? Cat.
[3080]
Here, my good Lord.
Rich. Catesby, flye to the Duke. Cat. I will, my Lord, with all conuenient haste. Rich. Catesby come hither, poste to Salisbury: When thou com'st thither: Dull vnmindfull Villaine,
[3085]
Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the Duke?
Cat. First, mighty Liege, tell me your Highnesse pleasure, What from your Grace I shall deliuer to him. Rich. O true, good Catesby, bid him leuie straight The greatest strength and power that he can make,
[3090]
And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.
Cat. I goe. Exit. Rat. What, may it please you, shall I doe at Salis­ bury? Rich. Why, what would'st thou doe there, before I goe? Rat. Your Highnesse told me I should poste before. Rich.
[3095]
My minde is chang'd: Enter Lord Stanley. Stanley, what newes with you?
Sta. None, good my Liege, to please you with yͤ hearing, Nor none so bad, but well may be reported. Rich. Hoyday, a Riddle, neither good nor bad:
[3100]
What need'st thou runne so many miles about, When thou mayest tell thy Tale the neerest way? Once more, what newes?
Stan. Richmond is on the Seas. Rich. There let him sinke, and be the Seas on him,
[3105]
White‑liuer'd Runnagate, what doth he there?
Stan. I know not, mightie Soueraigne, but by guesse. Rich. Well, as you guesse. Stan. Stirr'd vp by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton, He makes for England, here to clayme the Crowne. Rich.
[3110]
Is the Chayre emptie? is the Sword vnsway'd? Is the King dead? the Empire vnpossest? What Heire of Yorke is there aliue, but wee? And who is Englands King, but great Yorkes Heire? Then tell me, what makes he vpon the Seas?
Stan.
[3115]
Vnlesse for that, my Liege, I cannot guesse.
Rich. Vnlesse for that he comes to be your Liege, You cannot guesse wherefore the Welchman comes. Thou wilt reuolt, and flye to him, I feare. Stan. No, my good Lord, therefore mistrust me not. Rich.
[3120]
Where is thy Power then, to beat him back ? Where be thy Tenants, and thy followers? Are they not now vpon the Westerne Shore, Safe‑conducting the Rebels from their Shippes?
Stan. No, my good Lord, my friends are in the North. Rich.
[3125]
Cold friends to me: what do they in the North, When they should serue their Soueraigne in the West?

Right Column


Stan. They haue not been commanded, mighty King: Pleaseth your Maiestie to giue me leaue, Ile muster vp my friends, and meet your Grace,
[3130]
Where, and what time your Maiestie shall please.
Rich. I, thou would'st be gone, to ioyne with Richmond: But Ile not trust thee. Stan. Most mightie Soueraigne, You haue no cause to hold my friendship doubtfull,
[3135]
I neuer was, nor neuer will be false.
Rich. Goe then, and muster men: but leaue behind Your Sonne George Stanley: looke your heart be firme, Or else his Heads assurance is but fraile. Stan. So deale with him, as I proue true to you. Exit Stanley. Enter a Messenger. Mess.
[3140]
My gracious Soueraigne, now in Deuonshire, As I by friends am well aduertised, Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughtie Prelate, Bishop of Exeter, his elder Brother, With many moe Confederates, are in Armes.
Enter another Messenger. Mess.
[3145]
In Kent, my Liege, the Guilfords are in Armes, And euery houre more Competitors Flocke to the Rebels, and their power growes strong.
Enter another Messenger. Mess. My Lord, the Armie of great Buckingham. Rich. Out on ye, Owles, nothing but Songs of Death, He striketh him.
[3150]
There, take thou that, till thou bring better newes.
Mess. The newes I haue to tell your Maiestie, Is, that by sudden Floods, and fall of Waters, Buckinghams Armie is dispers'd and scatter'd, And he himselfe wandred away alone,
[3155]
No man knowes whither.
Rich. I cry thee mercie: There is my Purse, to cure that Blow of thine. Hath any well‑aduised friend proclaym'd Reward to him that brings the Traytor in? Mess.
[3160]
Such Proclamation hath been made, my Lord.
Enter another Messenger. Mess. Sir Thomas Louell, and Lord Marquesse Dorset, 'Tis said, my Liege, in Yorkeshire are in Armes: But this good comfort bring I to your Highnesse, The Brittaine Nauie is dispers'd by Tempest.
[3165]
Richmond in Dorsetshire sent out a Boat Vnto the shore, to aske those on the Banks, If they were his Assistants, yea, or no? Who answer'd him, they came from Buckingham, Vpon his partie: he mistrusting them,
[3170]
Hoys'd sayle, and made his course againe for Brittaine.
Rich. March on, march on, since we are vp in Armes, If not to fight with forraine Enemies, Yet to beat downe these Rebels here at home. Enter Catesby. Cat. My Liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken,
[3175]
That is the best newes: that the Earle of Richmond Is

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[Act 4, Scene 3] Enter Tyrrel. Tyr. The tyrannous and bloodie Act is done, The most arch deed of pittious massacre That euer yet this Land was guilty of: Dighton and Forrest, who I did suborne
[2565]
To do this peece of ruthfull Butchery, Albeit they were flesht Villaines, bloody Dogges, Melted with tendernesse, and milde compassion, Wept like to Children, in their deaths sad Story. O thus (quoth Dighton) lay the gentle Babes;
[2570]
Thus, thus (quoth Forrest) girdling one another Within their Alablaster innocent Armes: Their lips were foure red Roses on a stalke, And in their Summer Beauty kist each other. A Booke of Prayers on their pillow lay,
[2575]
Which one (quoth Forrest) almost chang'd my minde: But oh the Diuell, there the Villaine stopt: When Dighton thus told on, we smothered The most replenished sweet worke of Nature, That from the prime Creation ere she framed.
[2580]
Hence both are gone with Conscience and Remorse, They could not speake, and so I left them both, To beare this tydings to the bloody King. Enter Richard. And heere he comes. All health my Soueraigne Lord.
Ric. Kinde Tirrell, am I happy in thy Newes. Tir.
[2585]
If to haue done the thing you gaue in charge, Beget your happinesse, be happy then, For it is done.
Rich. But did'st thou see them dead. Tir. I did my Lord. Rich.
[2590]
And buried gentle Tirrell.
Tir. The Chaplaine of the Tower hath buried them, But where (to say the truth) I do not know. Rich. Come to me Tirrel soone, and after Supper, When thou shalt tell the processe of their death.
[2595]
Meane time, but thinke how I may do the good, And be inheritor of thy desire. Farewell till then.
Tir. I humbly take my leaue. Rich. The Sonne of Clarence haue I pent vp close,
[2600]
His daughter meanly haue I matcht in marriage, The Sonnes of Edward sleepe in Abrahams bosome, And Anne my wife hath bid this world good night. Now for I know the Britaine Richmond aymes At yong Elizabeth my brothers daughter,
[2605]
And by that knot lookes proudly on the Crowne, To her go I, a iolly thriuing wooer.
Enter Ratcliffe. Rat. My Lord. Rich. Good or bad newes, that thou com'st in so bluntly? Rat. Bad news my Lord, Mourton is fled to Richmond,
[2610]
And Buckingham backt with the hardy Welshmen Is in the field, and still his power encreaseth.
Rich. Ely with Richmond troubles me more neere, Then Buckingham and his rash leuied Strength. Come, I haue learn'd, that fearfull commenting
[2615]
Is leaden seruitor to dull delay. Delay leds impotent and Snaile‑pac'd Beggery: Then fierie expedition be my wing, Ioues Mercury, and Herald for a King: Go muster men: My counsaile is my Sheeld,
[2620]
We must be breefe, when Traitors braue the field.
Exeunt.
 

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<div type="scene" n="3" rend="notPresent">
   <head type="supplied">[Act 4, Scene 3]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Tyrrel.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r3-tyr">
      <speaker rend="italic">Tyr.</speaker>
      <l n="2561">The tyrannous and bloodie Act is done,</l>
      <l n="2562">The most arch deed of pittious massacre</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0551-0.jpg" n="195"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="2563">That euer yet this Land was guilty of:</l>
      <l n="2564">
         <hi rend="italic">Dighton</hi>and<hi rend="italic">Forrest</hi>, who I did suborne</l>
      <l n="2565">To do this peece of ruthfull Butchery,</l>
      <l n="2566">Albeit they were flesht Villaines, bloody Dogges,</l>
      <l n="2567">Melted with tendernesse, and milde compassion,</l>
      <l n="2568">Wept like to Children, in their deaths sad Story.</l>
      <l n="2569">O thus (quoth<hi rend="italic">Dighton</hi>) lay the gentle Babes;</l>
      <l n="2570">Thus, thus (quoth<hi rend="italic">Forrest</hi>) girdling one another</l>
      <l n="2571">Within their Alablaster innocent Armes:</l>
      <l n="2572">Their lips were foure red Roses on a stalke,</l>
      <l n="2573">And in their Summer Beauty kist each other.</l>
      <l n="2574">A Booke of Prayers on their pillow lay,</l>
      <l n="2575">Which one (quoth<hi rend="italic">Forrest</hi>) almost chang'd my minde:</l>
      <l n="2576">But oh the Diuell, there the Villaine stopt:</l>
      <l n="2577">When<hi rend="italic">Dighton</hi>thus told on, we smothered</l>
      <l n="2578">The most replenished sweet worke of Nature,</l>
      <l n="2579">That from the prime Creation ere she framed.</l>
      <l n="2580">Hence both are gone with Conscience and Remorse,</l>
      <l n="2581">They could not speake, and so I left them both,</l>
      <l n="2582">To beare this tydings to the bloody King.</l>
      <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Richard.</stage>
      <l n="2583">And heere he comes. All health my Soueraigne Lord.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ric.</speaker>
      <l n="2584">Kinde<hi rend="italic">Tirrell</hi>, am I happy in thy Newes.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-tyr">
      <speaker rend="italic">Tir.</speaker>
      <l n="2585">If to haue done the thing you gaue in charge,</l>
      <l n="2586">Beget your happinesse, be happy then,</l>
      <l n="2587">For it is done.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="2588">But did'st thou see them dead.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-tyr">
      <speaker rend="italic">Tir.</speaker>
      <l n="2589">I did my Lord.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="2590">And buried gentle<hi rend="italic">Tirrell</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-tyr">
      <speaker rend="italic">Tir.</speaker>
      <l n="2591">The Chaplaine of the Tower hath buried them,</l>
      <l n="2592">But where (to say the truth) I do not know.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="2593">Come to me<hi rend="italic">Tirrel</hi>soone, and after Supper,</l>
      <l n="2594">When thou shalt tell the processe of their death.</l>
      <l n="2595">Meane time, but thinke how I may do the good,</l>
      <l n="2596">And be inheritor of thy desire.</l>
      <l n="2597">Farewell till then.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-tyr">
      <speaker rend="italic">Tir.</speaker>
      <l n="2598">I humbly take my leaue.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="2599">The Sonne of<hi rend="italic">Clarence</hi>haue I pent vp close,</l>
      <l n="2600">His daughter meanly haue I matcht in marriage,</l>
      <l n="2601">The Sonnes of<hi rend="italic">Edward</hi>sleepe in<hi rend="italic">Abrahams</hi>bosome,</l>
      <l n="2602">And<hi rend="italic">Anne</hi>my wife hath bid this world good night.</l>
      <l n="2603">Now for I know the Britaine<hi rend="italic">Richmond</hi>aymes</l>
      <l n="2604">At yong<hi rend="italic">Elizabeth</hi>my brothers daughter,</l>
      <l n="2605">And by that knot lookes proudly on the Crowne,</l>
      <l n="2606">To her go I, a iolly thriuing wooer.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Ratcliffe.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rat">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rat.</speaker>
      <l n="2607">My Lord.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="2608">Good or bad newes, that thou com'st in so
      <lb/>bluntly?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rat">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rat.</speaker>
      <l n="2609">Bad news my Lord,<hi rend="italic">Mourton</hi>is fled to Richmond,</l>
      <l n="2610">And Buckingham backt with the hardy Welshmen</l>
      <l n="2611">Is in the field, and still his power encreaseth.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="2612">Ely with Richmond troubles me more neere,</l>
      <l n="2613">Then Buckingham and his rash leuied Strength.</l>
      <l n="2614">Come, I haue learn'd, that fearfull commenting</l>
      <l n="2615">Is leaden seruitor to dull delay.</l>
      <l n="2616">Delay leds impotent and Snaile‑pac'd Beggery:</l>
      <l n="2617">Then fierie expedition be my wing,</l>
      <l n="2618">Ioues Mercury, and Herald for a King:</l>
      <l n="2619">Go muster men: My counsaile is my Sheeld,</l>
      <l n="2620">We must be breefe, when Traitors braue the field.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
   <cb n="2"/>
</div>

                                
                            

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