The Illustrated Works of Shakespeare/Illustrated Works of Shakespeare, The (1990)(Animated Pixels)[!][CDTV-PC].iso/shakes/text/03/02_02

Text File | 1991-04-10 | 8KB | 208 lines

Another Room in the Palace.
 Enter the old DUCHESS of York with the two CHILDREN of Clarence.

Boy    Good grandam, tell us - is our father dead?

Duchess    No, boy.

Girl    Why do you weep so oft, and beat your breast?
    And cry "O Clarence, my unhappy son"?

Boy    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.

Boy    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.

Girl    And so will I.

Duchess    Peace, children, peace! The king doth love you well.
    Incapable and shallow innocents,
    You cannot guess who caused your father's death.

Boy    Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester
    Told me the king, provokd by the queen,
    Devised impeachments to imprison him;
    And when my uncle told me so he wept,
    And pitied me, and kindly kissed 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 visor hide deep vice!
    He is my son, ay, and therein my shame;
    Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit.

Boy    Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam?

Duchess    Ay, boy.

Boy    I cannot think it. Hark, what noise is this?

           Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH with her hair about her ears,
                       RIVERS and DORSET after her.

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?

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-wingd 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 lived with looking on his images;
    But now two mirrors of his princely semblance
    Are cracked 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 snatched my husband from mine arms,
    And plucked 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.

Boy    Ah, aunt, you wept not for our father's death-
    How can we aid you with our kindred tears?

Girl    Our fatherless distress was left unmoaned;
    Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept.

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 governed 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!

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.

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 parcelled, 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 distressed,
    Pour all your tears. I am your sorrow's nurse,
    And I will pamper it with lamentation.

Dorset    Comfort, dear mother. God is much displeased
    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 crowned; in him your comfort lives.
    Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave,
    And plant your joys in living Edward's throne.

    Enter RICHARD, BUCKINGHAM, STANLEY, LORD HASTINGS, and RATCLIFFE.

Richard    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.

Richard    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 splintered, knit, and joined together,
    Must gently be preserved, cherished, and kept.
    Meseemeth good that with some little train
    Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fet
    Hither to London to be crowned our king.

Rivers    Why with some little train, my lord of Buckingham?

Buckingham    Marry, my lord, lest by a multitude
    The new-healed wound of malice should break out,
    Which would be so much the more dangerous
    By how much the estate is green and yet ungoverned.
    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.

Richard    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 urged.
    Therefore I say with noble Buckingham
    That it is meet so few should fetch the prince.

Lord Hastings    And so say I.

Richard    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?

Elizabeth &
Duchess    With all our hearts.
                              [Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and RICHARD.

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 talked of,
    To part the queen's proud kindred from the prince.

Richard    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.