KING RICHARD III. William Shakespeare

The rest, that love me, rise and follow me.

       [Exeunt all except HASTINGS, LOVEL, and RATCLIFF.]

       HASTINGS

       Woe, woe, for England! not a whit for me;

       For I, too fond, might have prevented this.

       Stanley did dream the boar did raze his helm;

       And I did scorn it, and disdain to fly.

       Three times to-day my footcloth horse did stumble,

       And started, when he look’d upon the Tower,

       As loth to bear me to the slaughterhouse.

       O, now I need the priest that spake to me:

       I now repent I told the pursuivant,

       As too triumphing, how mine enemies

       To-day at Pomfret bloodily were butcher’d,

       And I myself secure in grace and favour.

       O Margaret, Margaret, now thy heavy curse

       Is lighted on poor Hastings’ wretched head!

       RATCLIFF

       Come, come, despatch; the duke would be at dinner:

       Make a short shrift; he longs to see your head.

       HASTINGS

       O momentary grace of mortal men,

       Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!

       Who builds his hope in air of your good looks

       Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast,

       Ready, with every nod, to tumble down

       Into the fatal bowels of the deep.

       LOVEL

       Come, come, despatch; ‘tis bootless to exclaim.

       HASTINGS

       O bloody Richard!—miserable England!

       I prophesy the fearfull’st time to thee

       That ever wretched age hath look’d upon.—

       Come, lead me to the block; bear him my head:

       They smile at me who shortly shall be dead.

       [Exeunt.]

      SCENE V. London. The Tower Walls

       [Enter GLOSTER and BUCKINGHAM in rusty armour, marvellous ill-favoured.]

       GLOSTER

       Come, cousin, canst thou quake and change thy colour,

       Murder thy breath in middle of a word,

       And then again begin, and stop again,

       As if thou were distraught and mad with terror?

       BUCKINGHAM

       Tut, I can counterfeit the deep tragedian;

       Speak and look back, and pry on every side,

       Tremble and start at wagging of a straw,

       Intending deep suspicion: ghastly looks

       Are at my service, like enforcèd smiles;

       And both are ready in their offices,

       At any time to grace my stratagems.

       But what, is Catesby gone?

       GLOSTER

       He is; and, see, he brings the mayor along.

       [Enter the LORD MAYOR and CATESBY.]

       BUCKINGHAM

       Lord mayor,—

       GLOSTER

       Look to the drawbridge there!

       BUCKINGHAM

       Hark! a drum.

       GLOSTER

       Catesby, o’erlook the walls.

       BUCKINGHAM

       Lord Mayor, the reason we have sent,—

       GLOSTER

       Look back, defend thee,—here are enemies.

       BUCKINGHAM

       God and our innocency defend and guard us!

       GLOSTER

       Be patient; they are friends,—Ratcliff and Lovel.

       [Enter LOVEL and RATCLIFF, with HASTINGS’ head.]

       LOVEL

       Here is the head of that ignoble traitor,

       The dangerous and unsuspected Hastings.

       GLOSTER

       So dear I lov’d the man that I must weep.

       I took him for the plainest harmless creature

       That breath’d upon the earth a Christian;

       Made him my book, wherein my soul recorded

       The history of all her secret thoughts:

       So smooth he daub’d his vice with show of virtue

       That, his apparent open guilt omitted,—

       I mean, his conversation with Shore’s wife,—

       He liv’d from all attainder of suspécts.

       BUCKINGHAM

       Well, well, he was the covert’st shelter’d traitor

       That ever liv’d.—

       Would you imagine, or almost believe,—

       Were’t not that by great preservation

       We live to tell it you,—that the subtle traitor

       This day had plotted, in the council-house,

       To murder me and my good Lord of Gloster!

       MAYOR

       Had he done so?

       GLOSTER

       What! think you we are Turks or Infidels?

       Or that we would, against the form of law,

       Proceed thus rashly in the villain’s death,

       But that the extreme peril of the case,

       The peace of England and our persons’ safety,

       Enforc’d us to this execution?

       MAYOR

       Now, fair befall you! he deserv’d his death;

       And your good graces both have well proceeded,

       To warn false traitors from the like attempts.

       I never look’d for better at his hands

       After he once fell in with Mistress Shore.

       BUCKINGHAM

       Yet had we not determin’d he should die

       Until your lordship came to see his end;

       Which now the loving haste of these our friends,

       Something against our meanings, have prevented:

       Because, my lord, we would have had you heard

       The traitor speak, and timorously confess

       The manner and the purpose of his treasons;

       That you might well have signified the same

       Unto the citizens, who haply may

       Misconster us in him, and wail his death.

       MAYOR

       But, my good lord, your grace’s word shall serve

       As well as I had seen and heard him speak:

       And do not doubt, right noble princes both,

       But I’ll acquaint