Richard III William Shakespeare (good english books to read .txt) š
- Author: William Shakespeare
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And there they hull, expecting but the aid
Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore. King Richard
Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Norfolk:
Ratcliff, thyself, or Catesby; where is he?
Fly to the duke: To Ratcliff. Post thou to Salisbury:
When thou comest thitherā āTo Catesby. Dull, unmindful villain,
Why standāst thou still, and goāst not to the duke?
First, mighty sovereign, let me know your mind,
What from your grace I shall deliver to him.
O, true, good Catesby: bid him levy straight
The greatest strength and power he can make,
And meet me presently at Salisbury.
What isāt your highnessā pleasure I shall do
At Salisbury?
None good, my lord, to please you with the hearing;
Nor none so bad, but it may well be told.
Hoyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad!
Why dost thou run so many mile about,
When thou mayst tell thy tale a nearer way?
Once more, what news?
There let him sink, and be the seas on him!
White-liverād runagate, what doth he there?
Stirrād up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Ely,
He makes for England, there to claim the crown.
Is the chair empty? is the sword unswayād?
Is the king dead? the empire unpossessād?
What heir of York is there alive but we?
And who is Englandās king but great Yorkās heir?
Then, tell me, what doth he upon the sea?
Unless for that he comes to be your liege,
You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes.
Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear.
Where is thy power, then, to beat him back?
Where are thy tenants and thy followers?
Are they not now upon the western shore,
Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships!
Cold friends to Richard: what do they in the north,
When they should serve their sovereign in the west?
They have not been commanded, mighty sovereign:
Please it your majesty to give me leave,
Iāll muster up my friends, and meet your grace
Where and what time your majesty shall please.
Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond:
I will not trust you, sir.
Most mighty sovereign,
You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful:
I never was nor never will be false.
Well,
Go muster men; but, hear you, leave behind
Your son, George Stanley: look your faith be firm,
Or else his headās assurance is but frail.
My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,
As I by friends am well advertised,
Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate
Bishop of Exeter, his brother there,
With many more confederates, are in arms.
My liege, in Kent the Guildfords are in arms;
And every hour more competitors
Flock to their aid, and still their power increaseth.
Out on you, owls! nothing but songs of death? He striketh him.
Take that, until thou bring me better news.
The news I have to tell your majesty
Is, that by sudden floods and fall of waters,
Buckinghamās army is dispersed and scatterād;
And he himself wanderād away alone,
No man knows whither.
I cry thee mercy:
There is my purse to cure that blow of thine.
Hath any well-advised friend proclaimād
Reward to him that brings the traitor in?
Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis Dorset,
āTis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms.
Yet this good comfort bring I to your grace,
The Breton navy is dispersed by tempest:
Richmond, in Yorkshire, sent out a boat
Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks
If they were his assistants, yea or no;
Who answerād him, they came from Buckingham
Upon his party: he, mistrusting them,
Hoisted sail and made away for Brittany.
March on, march on, since we are up in arms;
If not to fight with foreign enemies,
Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.
My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken;
That is the best news: that the Earl of Richmond
Is with a mighty power landed at Milford,
Is colder tidings, yet they must be told.
Away towards Salisbury! while we reason here,
A royal battle might be won and lost:
Some one take order Buckingham be brought
To Salisbury; the rest march on with me. Flourish. Exeunt.
Lord Derbyās house.
Enter Derby and Sir Christopher Urswick. DerbySir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me:
That in the sty of this most bloody boar
My son George Stanley is frankād up in hold:
If I revolt, off goes young Georgeās head;
The fear of that withholds my present aid.
But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now?
Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier;
Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley;
Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,
And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew;
And many more of noble fame and worth:
And towards London they do bend their course,
If by the way they be not fought withal.
Return unto thy lord; commend me to him:
Tell him the queen hath heartily consented
He shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter.
These letters will resolve him of my mind.
Farewell. Exeunt.
Salisbury. An open place.
Enter
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