Shakespeare's First Folio - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Riu. Haue patience Madam, ther's no doubt his Maiesty Will soone recouer his accustom'd health
Gray. In that you brooke it ill, it makes him worse, Therefore for G.o.ds sake entertaine good comfort, And cheere his Grace with quicke and merry eyes Qu. If he were dead, what would betide on me?
If he were dead, what would betide on me?
Gray. No other harme, but losse of such a Lord
Qu. The losse of such a Lord, includes all harmes
Gray. The Heauens haue blest you with a goodly Son, To be your Comforter, when he is gone
Qu. Ah! he is yong; and his minority Is put vnto the trust of Richard Glouster, A man that loues not me, nor none of you
Riu. Is it concluded he shall be Protector?
Qu. It is determin'd, not concluded yet: But so it must be, if the King miscarry.
Enter Buckingham and Derby.
Gray. Here comes the Lord of Buckingham & Derby
Buc. Good time of day vnto your Royall Grace
Der. G.o.d make your Maiesty ioyful, as you haue bin Qu. The Countesse Richmond, good my L[ord]. of Derby.
To your good prayer, will sca.r.s.ely say, Amen.
Yet Derby, not withstanding shee's your wife, And loues not me, be you good Lord a.s.sur'd, I hate not you for her proud arrogance
Der. I do beseech you, either not beleeue The enuious slanders of her false Accusers: Or if she be accus'd on true report, Beare with her weaknesse, which I thinke proceeds From wayward sicknesse, and no grounded malice
Qu. Saw you the King to day my Lord of Derby
Der. But now the Duke of Buckingham and I, Are come from visiting his Maiesty
Que. What likelyhood of his amendment Lords
Buc. Madam good hope, his Grace speaks chearfully
Qu. G.o.d grant him health, did you confer with him?
Buc. I Madam, he desires to make attonement Betweene the Duke of Glouster, and your Brothers, And betweene them, and my Lord Chamberlaine, And sent to warne them to his Royall presence
Qu. Would all were well, but that will neuer be, I feare our happinesse is at the height.
Enter Richard.
Rich. They do me wrong, and I will not indure it, Who is it that complaines vnto the King, That I (forsooth) am sterne, and loue them not?
By holy Paul, they loue his Grace but lightly, That fill his eares with such dissentious Rumors.
Because I cannot flatter, and looke faire, Smile in mens faces, smooth, deceiue, and cogge, Ducke with French nods, and Apish curtesie, I must be held a rancorous Enemy.
Cannot a plaine man liue, and thinke no harme, But thus his simple truth must be abus'd, With silken, slye, insinuating Iackes?
Grey. To who in all this presence speaks your Grace?
Rich. To thee, that hast nor Honesty, nor Grace: When haue I iniur'd thee? When done thee wrong?
Or thee? or thee? or any of your Faction?
A plague vpon you all. His Royall Grace (Whom G.o.d preserue better then you would wish) Cannot be quiet sca.r.s.e a breathing while, But you must trouble him with lewd complaints
Qu. Brother of Glouster, you mistake the matter: The King on his owne Royall disposition, (And not prouok'd by any Sutor else) Ayming (belike) at your interiour hatred, That in your outward action shewes it selfe Against my Children, Brothers, and my Selfe, Makes him to send, that he may learne the ground
Rich. I cannot tell, the world is growne so bad, That Wrens make prey, where Eagles dare not pearch.
Since euerie Iacke became a Gentleman, There's many a gentle person made a Iacke
Qu. Come, come, we know your meaning Brother Gloster You enuy my aduancement, and my friends: G.o.d grant we neuer may haue neede of you
Rich. Meane time, G.o.d grants that I haue need of you.
Our Brother is imprison'd by your meanes, My selfe disgrac'd, and the n.o.bilitie Held in contempt, while great Promotions Are daily giuen to enn.o.ble those That sca.r.s.e some two dayes since were worth a n.o.ble
Qu. By him that rais'd me to this carefull height, From that contented hap which I inioy'd, I neuer did incense his Maiestie Against the Duke of Clarence, but haue bin An earnest aduocate to plead for him.
My Lord you do me shamefull iniurie, Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects
Rich. You may deny that you were not the meane Of my Lord Hastings late imprisonment
Riu. She may my Lord, for- Rich. She may Lord Riuers, why who knowes not so?
She may do more sir then denying that: She may helpe you to many faire preferments, And then deny her ayding hand therein, And lay those Honors on your high desert.
What may she not, she may, I marry may she
Riu. What marry may she?
Ric. What marrie may she? Marrie with a King, A Batch.e.l.ler, and a handsome stripling too, Iwis your Grandam had a worser match
Qu. My Lord of Glouster, I haue too long borne Your blunt vpbraidings, and your bitter scoffes: By heauen, I will acquaint his Maiestie Of those grosse taunts that oft I haue endur'd.
I had rather be a Countrie seruant maide Then a great Queene, with this condition, To be so baited, scorn'd, and stormed at, Small ioy haue I in being Englands Queene.
Enter old Queene Margaret.
Mar. And lesned be that small, G.o.d I beseech him, Thy honor, state, and seate, is due to me
Rich. What? threat you me with telling of the King?
I will auouch't in presence of the King: I dare aduenture to be sent to th' Towre.
'Tis time to speake, My paines are quite forgot
Margaret. Out Diuell, I do remember them too well: Thou killd'st my Husband Henrie in the Tower, And Edward my poore Son, at Tewkesburie
Rich. Ere you were Queene, I, or your Husband King: I was a packe-horse in his great affaires: A weeder out of his proud Aduersaries, A liberall rewarder of his Friends, To royalize his blood, I spent mine owne
Margaret. I and much better blood Then his, or thine
Rich. In all which time, you and your Husband Grey Were factious, for the House of Lancaster; And Riuers, so were you: Was not your Husband, In Margarets Battaile, at Saint Albons, slaine?
Let me put in your mindes, if you forget What you haue beene ere this, and what you are: Withall, what I haue beene, and what I am
Q.M. A murth'rous Villaine, and so still thou art
Rich. Poore Clarence did forsake his Father Warwicke, I, and forswore himselfe (which Iesu pardon.) Q.M. Which G.o.d reuenge
Rich. To fight on Edwards partie, for the Crowne, And for his meede, poore Lord, he is mewed vp: I would to G.o.d my heart were Flint, like Edwards, Or Edwards soft and pittifull, like mine; I am too childish foolish for this World
Q.M. High thee to h.e.l.l for shame, & leaue this World Thou Cacodemon, there thy Kingdome is
Riu. My Lord of Gloster: in those busie dayes, Which here you vrge, to proue vs Enemies, We follow'd then our Lord, our Soueraigne King, So should we you, if you should be our King