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Richard III
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  • ACT II SCENE II

    
     Dramatis Personae 
     Act I   Scene I 
     Act I   Scene II
     Act I   Scene III
     Act I   Scene IV  
     Act II  Scene I 
     Act II  Scene II 
     Act II  Scene III 
     Act II  Scene IV 
     Act III Scene I
     Act III Scene II
     Act III Scene III
     Act III Scene IV
     Act III Scene V
     
    
     Act III Scene VI
     Act III Scene VII
     Act IV  Scene I 
     Act IV  Scene II
     Act IV  Scene III
     Act IV  Scene IV
     Act IV  Scene V
     Act V   Scene I 
     Act V   Scene II 
     Act V   Scene III 
     Act V   Scene IV 
     Act V   Scene V
     Complete play


     Act II 

    
    ACT II: SCENE II	The palace.

    
    	Enter the DUCHESS OF YORK, with the two children of CLARENCE
    
    Boy	Tell me, good grandam, is our father dead?
    
    DUCHESS OF YORK	No, boy.
    
    Boy	Why do you wring your hands, and beat your breast,
    	And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!'
    
    Girl	Why do you look on us, and shake your head,
    	And call us wretches, orphans, castaways
    	If that our noble father be alive?
    
    DUCHESS OF YORK	My pretty cousins, you mistake me much;
    	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, grandam, you conclude that he is dead.
    	The king my uncle is to blame for this:
    	God will revenge it; whom I will importune
    	With daily prayers all to that effect.
    
    Girl	And so will I.
    
    DUCHESS OF YORK	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, provoked by the queen,
    	Devised impeachments to imprison him :
    	And when my uncle told me so, he wept,
    	And hugg'd me in his arm, and kindly kiss'd my cheek;
    	Bade me rely on him as on my father,
    	And he would love me dearly as his child.
    
    DUCHESS OF YORK	Oh, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes,
    	And with a virtuous vizard hide foul guile!
    	He is my son; yea, and therein my shame;
    	Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit.
    
    Boy	Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam?
    
    DUCHESS OF YORK	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
    
    QUEEN ELIZABETH	Oh, 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 OF YORK	What means this scene of rude impatience?
    
    QUEEN ELIZABETH	To make an act of tragic violence:
    	Edward, my lord, your son, our king, is dead.
    	Why grow the branches now the root is wither'd?
    	Why wither not the leaves the sap being gone?
    	If you will live, lament; if die, be brief,
    	That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's;
    	Or, like obedient subjects, follow him
    	To his new kingdom of perpetual rest.
    
    DUCHESS OF YORK	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 by looking on his images:
    	But now two mirrors of his princely semblance
    	Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death,
    	And I for comfort have but one false glass,
    	Which 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 thee:
    	But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms,
    	And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble limbs,
    	Edward and Clarence. O, what cause have I,
    	Thine being but a moiety of my grief,
    	To overgo thy plaints and drown thy cries!
    
    Boy	Good aunt, you wept not for our father's death;
    	How can we aid you with our kindred tears?
    
    Girl	Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd;
    	Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept!
    
    QUEEN 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 govern'd by the watery moon,
    	May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world!
    	Oh for my husband, for my dear lord Edward!
    
    Children	Oh for our father, for our dear lord Clarence!
    
    DUCHESS OF YORK	Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence!
    
    QUEEN ELIZABETH	What stay ING RICHARD III
    
    
    	DRAMATIS P
    
    Children	What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone.
    
    DUCHESS OF YORK	What stays had I but they? and they are gone.
    
    QUEEN ELIZABETH	Was never widow had so dear a loss!
    
    Children	Were never orphans had so dear a loss!
    
    DUCHESS OF YORK	Was never mother had so dear a loss!
    	Alas, I am the mother of these moans!
    	Their woes are parcell'd, mine are 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 distress'd,
    	Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse,
    	And I will pamper it with lamentations.
    
    DORSET	Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeased
    	That you take with unthankfulness, his doing:
    	In common worldly things, 'tis call'd ungrateful,
    	With dull unwilligness 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 crown'd; in him your comfort lives:
    	Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave,
    	And plant your joys in living Edward's throne.
    
    	Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF
    
    GLOUCESTER	Madam, have comfort: all of us have cause
    	To wail the dimming of our shining star;
    	But none can cure their 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 OF YORK	God bless thee; and put meekness in thy mind,
    	Love, charity, obedience, and true duty!
    
    GLOUCESTER	Aside  Amen; and make me die a good old man!
    	That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing:
    	I marvel why her grace did leave it out.
    
    BUCKINGHAM	You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers,
    	That bear this mutual heavy 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-swoln hearts,
    	But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together,
    	Must gently be preserved, cherish'd, and kept:
    	Me seemeth good, that, with some little train,
    	Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetch'd
    	Hither to London, to be crown'd our king.
    
    RIVERS	Why with some little train, my Lord of Buckingham?
    
    BUCKINGHAM	Marry, my lord, lest, by a multitude,
    	The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out,
    	Which would be so much the more dangerous
    	By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd:
    	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.
    
    GLOUCESTER	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.
    
    HASTINGS	And so say I.
    
    GLOUCESTER	Then be it so; and go we to determine
    	Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow.
    	Madam, and you, my mother, will you go
    	To give your censures in this weighty business?
    
    
    QUEEN ELIZABETH	|
    	|  With all our harts.
    DUCHESS OF YORK	|
    
    
    	Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOUCESTER
    
    BUCKINGHAM	My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince,
    	For God's sake, let not us two be behind;
    	For, by the way, I'll sort occasion,
    	As index to the story we late talk'd of,
    	To part the queen's proud kindred from the king.
    
    GLOUCESTER	My other self, my counsel's consistory,
    	My oracle, my prophet! My dear cousin,
    	I, like a child, will go by thy direction.
    	Towards Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind.
    
    	Exeunt
    
    
    

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