The Illustrated Works of Shakespeare/Illustrated Works of Shakespeare, The (1990)(Animated Pixels)[!][CDTV-PC].iso/shakes/text/03/04_04

Text File | 1991-04-10 | 28KB | 774 lines

London. Before the Palace.
 Enter old QUEEN MARGARET.

Margaret    So now prosperity begins to mellow,
    And drop into the rotten mouth of death.
    Here in these confines slily have I lurked
    To watch the waning of mine enemies.
    A dire induction am I witness to,
    And will to France, hoping the consequence
    Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.

                Enter DUCHESS OF YORK and QUEEN ELIZABETH.

    Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret. Who comes here?
                                                        [Stands apart.

Elizabeth    Ah, my poor princes! Ah, my tender babes,
    My unblowed flowers, new-appearing sweets!
    If yet your gentle souls fly in the air
    And be not fixed in doom perpetual,
    Hover about me with your airy wings,
    And hear your mother's lamentation.

Margaret    [Aside.] Hover about her; say that right for right
    Hath dimmed your infant morn to agd night.

Duchess    So many miseries have crazed my voice
    That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute.
    Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?

Margaret    [Aside.] Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet;
    Edward for Edward pays a dying debt.

Elizabeth    Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs,
    And throw them in the entrails of the wolf?
    When didst Thou sleep when such a deed was done?

Margaret    [Aside.] When holy Harry died, and my sweet son.

Duchess    Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal living ghost,
    Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life usurped,
    Brief abstract and record of tedious days,
    Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth,
    Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood.
                                                [She sits on the ground.

Elizabeth    Ah, that thou wouldst as soon afford a grave
    As thou canst yield a melancholy seat;
    Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here.
    Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but we?
                                                [She sits on the ground.

Margaret    [Advancing.] If ancient sorrow be most reverend,
    Give mine the benefit of seignory,
    And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.
    If sorrow can admit society,
    Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine.
    I had an Edward, till a Richard killed him;
    I had a husband, till a Richard killed him:
    Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard killed him;
    Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard killed him.

Duchess    I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him;
    I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him.

Margaret    Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard killed him.
    From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept
    A hellhound that doth hunt us all to death.
    That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes,
    To worry lambs and lap their gentle blood;
    That foul defacer of God's handiwork
    That reigns in galld eyes of weeping souls;
    That excellent grand tyrant of the earth
    Thy womb let loose to chase us to our graves.
    O upright, just, and true-disposing God,
    How do I thank Thee that this carnal cur
    Preys on the issue of his mother's body,
    And makes her pew-fellow with others' moan.

Duchess     O Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes.
    God witness with me, I have wept for thine.

Margaret    Bear with me: - I am hungry for revenge,
    And now I cloy me with beholding it.
    Thy Edward he is dead, that killed my Edward;
    Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward;
    Young York he is but boot, because both they
    Matched not the high perfection of my loss.
    Thy Clarence he is dead, that stabbed my Edward;
    And the beholders of this frantic play,
    Th' adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey,
    Untimely smothered in their dusky graves.
    Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer,
    Only reserved their factor to buy souls
    And send them thither. But at hand, at hand
    Ensues his piteous and unpitied end.
    Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray,
    To have him suddenly conveyed from hence.
    Cancel his bond of life, dear God I pray,
    That I may live and say "The dog is dead".

Elizabeth    O, thou didst prophesy the time would come
    That I should wish for thee to help me curse
    That bottled spider, that foul bunch-backed toad.

Margaret    I called thee then vain flourish of my fortune;
    I called thee then poor shadow, painted queen,
    The presentation of but what I was,
    The flattering index of a direful pageant,
    One heaved a-high to be hurled down below,
    A mother only mocked with two fair babes,
    A dream of what thou wast, a garish flag
    To be the aim of every dangerous shot,
    A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble,
    A queen in jest, only to fill the scene.
    Where is thy husband now? Where be thy brothers?
    Where are thy two sons? Wherein dost thou joy?
    Who sues and kneels and says "God save the queen"?
    Where be the bending peers that flattered thee?
    Where be the thronging troops that followed thee?
    Decline all this, and see what now thou art:
    For happy wife, a most distressd widow;
    For joyful mother, one that wails the name;
    For one being sued to, one that humbly sues;
    For queen, a very caitiff crowned with care;
    For she that scorned at me, now scorned of me;
    For she being feared of all, now fearing one;
    For she commanding all, obeyed of none.
    Thus hath the course of justice whirled about,
    And left thee but a very prey to time,
    Having no more but thought of what thou wast
    To torture thee the more, being what thou art.
    Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not
    Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow?
    Now thy proud neck bears half my burdened yoke,
    From which even here I slip my weary head
    And leave the burden of it all on thee.
    Farewell, York's wife, and queen of sad mischance;
    These English woes shall make me smile in France.

Elizabeth    O thou well skilled in curses, stay awhile,
    And teach me how to curse mine enemies.

Margaret    Forbear to sleep the nights, and fast the days;
    Compare dead happiness with living woe;
    Think that thy babes were sweeter than they were,
    And he that slew them fouler than he is.
    Bett'ring thy loss makes the bad-causer worse.
    Revolving this will teach thee how to curse.

Elizabeth    My words are dull - O quicken them with thine.

Margaret    Thy woes will make them sharp and pierce like mine.
                                                        [Exit.
Duchess    Why should calamity be full of words?

Elizabeth    Windy attorneys to their clients' woes,
    Airy succeeders of intestate joys,
    Poor breathing orators of miseries,
    Let them have scope; though what they will impart
    Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart.

Duchess    If so, then be not tongue-tied; go with me,
    And in the breath of bitter words let's smother
    My damnd son that thy two sweet sons smothered.
                                                        [Trumpet.
    The trumpet sounds. Be copious in exclaims.

    Enter KING RICHARD and his Train, marching with DRUMS and TRUMPETS

King Richard    Who intercepts me in my expedition?

Duchess    O, she that might have intercepted thee,
    By strangling thee in her accursd womb,
    From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done.

Elizabeth    Hide'st thou that forehead with a golden crown
    Where should be branded, if that right were right,
    The slaughter of the prince that owed that crown,
    And the dire death of my poor sons and brothers?
    Tell me, thou villain-slave, where are my children?

Duchess    Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother Clarence?
    And little Ned Plantagenet, his son?

Elizabeth    Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Grey?

Duchess    Where is kind Hastings?

King Richard    A flourish, trumpets! Strike alarum, drums!
    Let not the heavens hear these telltale women
    Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I say!
                                                        [Flourish. Alarums.
    Either be patient and entreat me fair,
    Or with the clamorous report of war
    Thus will I drown your exclamations.

Duchess    Art thou my son?

King Richard    Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself.

Duchess    Then patiently hear my impatience.

King Richard    Madam, I have a touch of your condition
    That cannot brook the accent of reproof.

Duchess    O let me speak.

King Richard                            Do then, but I'll not hear.

Duchess    I will be mild and gentle in my words.

King Richard    And brief, good mother, for I am in haste.

Duchess    Art thou so hasty? I have stayed for thee,
    God knows, in torment and in agony.

King Richard    And came I not at last to comfort you?

Duchess    No, by the Holy Rood, thou know'st it well
    Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell.
    A grievous burden was thy birth to me;
    Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;
    Thy schooldays frightful, desp'rate, wild, and furious;
    Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous;
    Thy age confirmed, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody,
    More mild but yet more harmful, kind in hatred.
    What comfortable hour canst thou name
    That ever graced me with thy company?

King Richard    Faith, none but Humphrey Hour, that called your grace
    To breakfast once, forth of my company.
    If I be so disgracious in your eye,
    Let me march on and not offend you, madam.
    Strike up the drum!

Duchess                            I prithee hear me speak.

King Richard    You speak too bitterly.

Duchess                                Hear me a word,
    For I shall never speak to thee again.

King Richard    So.

Duchess    Either thou wilt die by God's just ordinance
    Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror,
    Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish,
    And never more behold thy face again.
    Therefore, take with thee my most grievous curse,
    Which in the day of battle tire thee more
    Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st.
    My prayers on the adverse party fight,
    And there the little souls of Edward's children
    Whisper the spirits of thine enemies,
    And promise them success and victory.
    Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end;
    Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend.
                                                        [Exit.

Elizabeth    Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse
    Abides in me; I say Amen to her.

King Richard    Stay, madam; I must talk a word with you.

Elizabeth    I have no more sons of the royal blood
    For thee to slaughter. For my daughters, Richard,
    They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens;
    And therefore level not to hit their lives.

King Richard    You have a daughter called Elizabeth,
    Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.

Elizabeth    And must she die for this? O let her live,
    And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty,
    Slander myself as false to Edward's bed,
    Throw over her the veil of infamy;
    So she may live unscarred of bleeding slaughter,
    I will confess she was not Edward's daughter.

King Richard    Wrong not her birth; she is a royal princess.

Elizabeth    To save her life I'll say she is not so.

King Richard    Her life is safest only in her birth.

Elizabeth    And only in that safety died her brothers.

King Richard    Lo, at their birth good stars were opposite.

Elizabeth    No, to their lives ill friends were contrary.

King Richard    All unavoided is the doom of destiny.

Elizabeth    True, when avoided grace makes destiny.
    My babes were destined to a fairer death
    If grace had blest thee with a fairer life.

King Richard    You speak as if that I had slain my cousins.

Elizabeth    Cousins indeed, and by their uncle cozened
    Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.
    Whose hand soever lanced their tender hearts,
    Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction.
    No doubt the murd'rous knife was dull and blunt
    Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart
    To revel in the entrails of my lambs.
    But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame
    My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys
    Till that my nails were anchored in thine eyes,
    And I in such a desp'rate bay of death,
    Like a poor bark of sails and tackling reft,
    Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom.

King Richard    Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise
    And dangerous success of bloody wars,
    As I intend more good to you and yours
    Than ever you or yours by me were harmed.

Elizabeth    What good is covered with the face of heaven,
    To be discovered, that can do me good?

King Richard    Th' advancement of your children, gentle lady.

Elizabeth    Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads.

King Richard    Unto the dignity and height of fortune,
    The high imperial type of this earth's glory.

Elizabeth    Flatter my sorrow with report of it:
    Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour,
    Canst thou demise to any child of mine?

King Richard    Even all I have, ay, and myself and all,
    Will I withal endow a child of thine,
    So in the Lethe of thy angry soul
    Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs
    Which thou supposest I have done to thee.

Elizabeth    Be brief, lest that the process of thy kindness
    Last longer telling than thy kindness' date.

King Richard    Then know that from my soul I love thy daughter.

Elizabeth    My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul.

King Richard    What do you think?

Elizabeth    That thou dost love my daughter from thy soul.
    So from thy soul's love didst thou love her brothers,
    And from my heart's love I do thank thee for it.

King Richard    Be not so hasty to confound my meaning.
    I mean that with my soul I love thy daughter,
    And do intend to make her Queen of England.

Elizabeth    Well then, who dost thou mean shall be her king?

King Richard    Even he that makes her queen. Who else should be?

Elizabeth    What, thou?

King Richard                    Even so. How think you of it?

Elizabeth    How canst thou woo her?

King Richard                                That would I learn of you,
    As one being best acquainted with her humour.

Elizabeth    And wilt thou learn of me?

King Richard                                    Madam, with all my heart.

Elizabeth    Send to her, by the man that slew her brothers,
    A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave
    'Edward' and 'York' - then haply will she weep;
    Therefore present to her (as sometimes Margaret
    Did to thy father, steeped in Rutland's blood)
    A handkerchief, which, say to her, did drain
    The purple sap from her sweet brother's body,
    And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal.
    If this inducement move her not to love,
    Send her a letter of thy noble deeds:
    Tell her thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence,
    Her uncle Rivers - ay, and for her sake
    Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne.

King Richard    You mock me, madam; this is not the way
    To win your daughter.

Elizabeth                            There is no other way;
    Unless thou couldst put on some other shape
    And not be Richard that hath done all this.

King Richard    Say that I did all this for love of her?

Elizabeth    Nay, then indeed she cannot chose but hate thee,
    Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.

King Richard    Look what is done cannot be now amended.
    Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,
    Which after-hours gives leisure to repent.
    If I did take the kingdom from your sons,
    To make amends I'll give it to your daughter;
    If I have killed the issue of your womb,
    To quicken your increase I will beget
    Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter.
    A grandam's name is little less in love
    Than is the doting title of a mother;
    They are as children but one step below,
    Even of your metal, of your very blood;
    Of all one pain, save for a night of groans
    Endured of her for whom you bid like sorrow.
    Your children were vexation to your youth,
    But mine shall be a comfort to your age.
    The loss you have is but a son being king,
    And by that loss your daughter is made queen.
    I cannot make you what amends I would,
    Therefore accept such kindness as I can.
    Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul
    Leads discontented steps in foreign soil,
    This fair alliance quickly shall call home
    To high promotions and great dignity.
    The king that calls your beauteous daughter wife
    Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother:
    Again shall you be mother to a king,
    And all the ruins of distressful times
    Repaired with double riches of content.
    What? - we have many goodly days to see.
    The liquid drops of tears that you have shed
    Shall come again, transformed to orient pearl,
    Advantaging their loan with interest
    Of ten times double gain of happiness.
    Go then, my mother, to thy daughter go;
    Make bold her bashful years with your experience;
    Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale;
    Put in her tender heart th' aspiring flame
    Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the princess
    With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys.
    And when this arm of mine hath chastisd
    The petty rebel, dull-brained Buckingham,
    Bound with triumphant garlands will I come
    And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed;
    To whom I will retail my conquest won,
    And she shall be sole victoress, Caesar's Caesar.

Elizabeth    What were I best to say? Her father's brother
    Would be her lord? Or shall I say her uncle?
    Or he that slew her brothers and her uncles?
    Under what title shall I woo for thee
    That God, the law, my honour, and her love
    Can make seem pleasing to her tender years?

King Richard    Infer fair England's peace by this alliance.

Elizabeth    Which she shall purchase with still-lasting war.

King Richard    Tell her the king that may command entreats.

Elizabeth    That, at her hands, which the king's King forbids.

King Richard    Say she shall be a high and mighty queen.

Elizabeth    To vail the title, as her mother doth.

King Richard    Say I will love her everlastingly.

Elizabeth    But how long shall that title 'ever' last?

King Richard    Sweetly in force until her fair life's end.

Elizabeth    But how long fairly shall her sweet life last?

King Richard    As long as heaven and nature lengthens it.

Elizabeth    As long as hell and Richard likes of it.

King Richard    Say I, her sovereign, am her subject low.

Elizabeth    But she, your subject, loathes such sovereignty.

King Richard    Be eloquent in my behalf to her.

Elizabeth    An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.

King Richard    Then plainly to her tell my loving tale.

Elizabeth    Plain and not honest is too harsh a style.

King Richard    Your reasons are too shallow and too quick.

Elizabeth    O no, my reasons are too deep and dead-
    Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves.

King Richard    Harp not on that string, madam; that is past.

Elizabeth    Harp on it still shall I, till heart-strings break.

King Richard    Now, by my George, my Garter, and my crown-

Elizabeth    Profaned, dishonoured, and the third usurped.

King Richard    I swear-

Elizabeth                    By nothing, for this is no oath:
    Thy George, profaned, hath lost his holy honour;
    Thy Garter, blemished, pawned his knightly virtue;
    Thy crown, usurped, disgraced his kingly glory.
    If something thou wouldst swear to be believed,
    Swear then by something that thou hast not wronged.

King Richard    Then by my self-

Elizabeth                        Thy self is self-misused.

King Richard    Now, by the world-

Elizabeth                            'Tis full of thy foul wrongs.

King Richard    My father's death-

Elizabeth                                Thy life hath it dishonoured.

King Richard    Why then, by God-

Elizabeth                            God's wrong is most of all.
    If thou didst fear to break an oath with Him,
    The unity the king my husband made
    Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers died.
    If thou hadst feared to break an oath by Him,
    Th' imperial metal circling now thy head
    Had graced the tender temples of my child,
    And both the princes had been breathing here,
    Which now, two tender bedfellows for dust,
    Thy broken faith hath made the prey for worms.
    What canst thou swear by now?

King Richard                                        The time to come.

Elizabeth    That thou hast wrongd in the time o'erpast;
    For I myself have many tears to wash
    Hereafter time, for time past wronged by thee.
    The children live whose fathers thou hast slaughtered-
    Ungoverned youth, to wail it in their age;
    The parents live whose children thou hast butchered-
    Old barren plants, to wail it with their age.
    Swear not by time to come, for that thou hast
    Misused ere used, by times ill-used o'erpast.

King Richard    As I intend to prosper and repent,
    So thrive I in my dangerous affairs
    Of hostile arms. Myself myself confound;
    Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours;
    Day yield me not thy light, nor night thy rest.
    Be opposite, all planets of good luck,
    To my proceeding if with dear heart's love,
    Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,
    I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter.
    In her consists my happiness and thine;
    Without her follows to myself, and thee,
    Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul,
    Death, desolation, ruin, and decay:
    It cannot be avoided but by this;
    It will not be avoided but by this.
    Therefore, dear mother - I must call you so-
    Be the attorney of my love to her;
    Plead what I will be, not what I have been;
    Not my deserts, but what I will deserve.
    Urge the necessity and state of times,
    And be not peevish found in great designs.

Elizabeth    Shall I be tempted of the devil thus?

King Richard    Ay, if the devil tempt you to do good.

Elizabeth    Shall I forget myself to be myself?

King Richard    Ay, if your self's remembrance wrong yourself.

Elizabeth    Yet thou didst kill my children.

King Richard    But in your daughter's womb I bury them,
    Where, in that nest of spicery, they will breed
    Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.

Elizabeth    Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?

King Richard    And be a happy mother by the deed.

Elizabeth    I go. Write to me very shortly,
    And you shall understand from me her mind.

King Richard    Bear her my true love's kiss;
                                                        [Kisses her.
                                    and so farewell.
                                                        [Exit ELIZABETH.

    Relenting fool, and shallow changing woman.

                 Enter RATCLIFFE, with CATESBY following.

    How now, what news?

Ratcliffe    Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast
    Rideth a puissant navy; to our shores
    Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends,
    Unarmed, and unresolved to beat them back.
    'Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral;
    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.
    Ratcliffe, thyself or Catesby - where is he?

Catesby    [Advancing.] Here, my good lord.

King Richard                                    Catesby, fly to the duke.

Catesby    I will, my lord, with all convenient haste.

King Richard    Ratcliffe, come hither. Post to Salisbury.
    When thou com'st thither-
                        [To CATESBY.] Dull unmindful villain,
    Why stay'st thou here and go'st not to the duke?

Catesby    First, mighty liege, tell me your highness' pleasure,
    What from your grace I shall deliver to him.

King Richard    O, true, good Catesby: bid him levy straight
    The greatest strength and power that he can make,
    And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.

Catesby    I go.
                                                        [Exit.
Ratcliffe    What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury?

King Richard    Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go?

Ratcliffe    Your highness told me I should post before.

King Richard    My mind is changed.

                           Enter LORD STANLEY.

                                Stanley, what news with you?

Stanley    None good, my liege, to please you with the hearing,
    Nor none so bad but well may be reported.

King Richard    Hoyday, a riddle! - neither good nor bad!
    What need'st thou run so many miles about,
    When thou mayst tell thy tale the nearest way?
    Once more, what news?

Stanley                                Richmond is on the seas.

King Richard    There let him sink, and be the seas on him,
    White-livered runagate! What doth he there?

Stanley    I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.

King Richard    Well, as you guess?

Stanley    Stirred up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton,
    He makes for England, here to claim the crown.

King Richard    Is the chair empty? Is the sword unswayed?
    Is the king dead? The empire unpossessed?
    What heir of York is there alive but we?
    And who is England's king but great York's heir?
    Then tell me, what makes he upon the seas?

Stanley    Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.

King Richard    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.

Stanley    No, my good lord; therefore mistrust me not.

King Richard    Where is thy power then to beat him back?
    Where be thy tenants and thy followers?
    Are they not now upon the western shore,
    Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships?

Stanley    No, my good lord, my friends are in the north.

King Richard    Cold friends to me! What do they in the north,
    When they should serve their sovereign in the west?

Stanley    They have not been commanded, mighty king.
    Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave,
    I'll muster up my friends, and meet your grace
    Where and what time your majesty shall please.

King Richard    Ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond;
    But I'll not trust thee.

Stanley                                Most mighty sovereign,
    You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful:
    I never was nor never will be false.

King Richard    Go then, and muster men; - but leave behind
    Your son George Stanley. Look your heart be firm,
    Or else his head's assurance is but frail.

Stanley    So deal with him as I prove true to you.
                                                        [Exit.

                            Enter a MESSENGER.

1st Messenger    My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,
    As I by friends am well advertisd,
    Sir Edward Courtney and the haughty prelate,
    Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,
    With many more confederates, are in arms.

                         Enter another MESSENGER.

2nd Messenger    In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in arms;
    And every hour more competitors
    Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong.

                         Enter another MESSENGER.

3rd Messenger    My lord, the army of great Buckingham-

King Richard    Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of death?
                                                        [He striketh him.
    There, take thou that, till thou bring better news.

3rd Messenger    The news I have to tell your majesty
    Is that by sudden flood and fall of water
    Buckingham's army is dispersed and scattered,
    And he himself wandered away alone,
    No man knows whither.

King Richard                                I cry thee mercy:
    There is my purse to cure that blow of thine.
    Hath any well-advisd friend proclaimed
    Reward to him that brings the traitor in?

3rd Messenger    Such proclamation hath been made, my lord.

                         Enter another MESSENGER.

4th Messenger    Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis Dorset,
    'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms;
    But this good comfort bring I to your highness:
    The Britaine navy is dispersed by tempest.
    Richmond in Dorsetshire sent out a boat
    Unto the shore to ask those on the banks
    If they were his assistants, yea or no;
    Who answered him they came from Buckingham
    Upon his party. He, mistrusting them,
    Hoist sail, and made his course again for Britaine.

King Richard    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.

                            Re-enter CATESBY.

Catesby    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.

King Richard    Away towards Salisbury! While we reason here
    A royal battle might be won and lost.
    Someone take order Buckingham be brought
    To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.
                                                        [Flourish. Exeunt.