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Original Text |
Modern Text |
|
Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH , DUCHESS of York, and DORSET at one door; ANNE , duchess of Gloucester with CLARENCE ’s young daughter at another door
|
Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH , DUCHESS of York, and DORSET at one door; ANNE , duchess of Gloucester with CLARENCE ’s young daughter at another door
|
|
DUCHESS Who meets us here? My niece Plantagenet
Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester?
Now, for my life, she’s wandering to the Tower,
On pure heart’s love, to greet the tender prince.—
5 Daughter, well met.
|
DUCHESS Who meets us here? My niece Plantagenet
Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester?
Now, for my life, she’s wandering to the Tower,
On pure heart’s love, to greet the tender prince.—
Daughter, well met.
|
|
ANNE God give your Graces both
A happy and a joyful time of day.
|
ANNE God give your Graces both
A happy and a joyful time of day.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH As much to you, good sister. Whither away?
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH As much to you, good sister. Whither away?
|
|
ANNE No farther than the Tower, and, as I guess,
Upon the like devotion as yourselves,
10 To gratulate the gentle princes there.
|
ANNE No farther than the Tower, and, as I guess,
Upon the like devotion as yourselves,
To gratulate the gentle princes there.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Kind sister, thanks. We’ll enter all together.
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Kind sister, thanks. We’ll enter all together.
|
|
Enter BRAKENBURY
|
Enter BRAKENBURY
|
|
And in good time here the lieutenant comes.—
Master Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,
How doth the prince and my young son of York?
|
And in good time here the lieutenant comes.—
Master Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,
How doth the prince and my young son of York?
|
|
BRAKENBURY 15 Right well, dear madam. By your patience,
I may not suffer you to visit them.
The king hath strictly charged the contrary.
|
BRAKENBURY Right well, dear madam. By your patience,
I may not suffer you to visit them.
The king hath strictly charged the contrary.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH The king? Who’s that?
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH The king? Who’s that?
|
|
BRAKENBURY I mean, the Lord Protector.
|
BRAKENBURY I mean, the Lord Protector.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH The Lord protect him from that kingly title!
20 Hath he set bounds between their love and me?
I am their mother. Who shall bar me from them?
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH The Lord protect him from that kingly title!
Hath he set bounds between their love and me?
I am their mother. Who shall bar me from them?
|
|
DUCHESS I am their father’s mother. I will see them.
|
DUCHESS I am their father’s mother. I will see them.
|
|
ANNE Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother.
Then bring me to their sights. I’ll bear thy blame
25 And take thy office from thee, on my peril.
|
ANNE Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother.
Then bring me to their sights. I’ll bear thy blame
And take thy office from thee, on my peril.
|
|
BRAKENBURY No, madam, no. I may not leave it so.
I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.
|
BRAKENBURY No, madam, no. I may not leave it so.
I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.
|
|
Exit
|
Exit
|
|
Enter Lord STANLEY , earl of Derby
|
Enter Lord STANLEY , earl of Derby
|
|
STANLEY Let me but meet you ladies one hour hence,
And I’ll salute your Grace of York as mother
30 And reverend looker-on, of two fair queens.
(to ANNE)
Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster,
There to be crownèd Richard’s royal queen.
|
STANLEY Let me but meet you ladies one hour hence,
And I’ll salute your Grace of York as mother
And reverend looker-on, of two fair queens.
(to ANNE)
Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster,
There to be crownèd Richard’s royal queen.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Ah, cut my lace asunder,
35 That my pent heart may have some scope to beat,
Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news!
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Ah, cut my lace asunder,
That my pent heart may have some scope to beat,
Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news!
|
|
ANNE Despiteful tidings! O, unpleasing news!
|
ANNE Despiteful tidings! O, unpleasing news!
|
|
DORSET (to QUEEN ELIZABETH) Be of good cheer, mother. How fares
your Grace?
|
DORSET (to QUEEN ELIZABETH) Be of good cheer, mother. How fares
your Grace?
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH O Dorset, speak not to me. Get thee gone.
40 Death and destruction dogs thee at thy heels.
Thy mother’s name is ominous to children.
If thou wilt outstrip death, go, cross the seas,
And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell.
Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughterhouse,
45 Lest thou increase the number of the dead
And make me die the thrall of Margaret’s curse,
Nor mother, wife, nor England’s counted queen.
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH O Dorset, speak not to me. Get thee gone.
Death and destruction dogs thee at thy heels.
Thy mother’s name is ominous to children.
If thou wilt outstrip death, go, cross the seas,
And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell.
Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughterhouse,
Lest thou increase the number of the dead
And make me die the thrall of Margaret’s curse,
Nor mother, wife, nor England’s counted queen.
|
|
STANLEY Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.
(to DORSET) Take all the swift advantage of the hours.
50 You shall have letters from me to my son
In your behalf, to meet you on the way.
Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.
|
STANLEY Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.
(to DORSET) Take all the swift advantage of the hours.
You shall have letters from me to my son
In your behalf, to meet you on the way.
Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.
|
|
DUCHESS O ill-dispersing wind of misery!
O my accursèd womb, the bed of death!
55 A cockatrice hast thou hatched to the world,
Whose unavoided eye is murderous.
|
DUCHESS O ill-dispersing wind of misery!
O my accursèd womb, the bed of death!
A cockatrice hast thou hatched to the world,
Whose unavoided eye is murderous.
|
|
STANLEY (to ANNE) Come, madam, come. I in all haste was sent.
|
STANLEY (to ANNE) Come, madam, come. I in all haste was sent.
|
|
ANNE And I in all unwillingness will go.
O, would to God that the inclusive verge
60 Of golden metal that must round my brow
Were red-hot steel to sear me to the brains!
Anointed let me be with deadly venom,
And die ere men can say, “God save the Queen.”
|
ANNE And I in all unwillingness will go.
O, would to God that the inclusive verge
Of golden metal that must round my brow
Were red-hot steel to sear me to the brains!
Anointed let me be with deadly venom,
And die ere men can say, “God save the Queen.”
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory.
65 To feed my humor, wish thyself no harm.
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory.
To feed my humor, wish thyself no harm.
|
|
ANNE No? Why? When he that is my husband now
Came to me, as I followed Henry’s corse,
When scarce the blood was well washed from his hands
Which issued from my other angel husband
70 And that dear saint which then I weeping followed—
O, when, I say, I looked on Richard’s face,
This was my wish: be thou, quoth I, accursed
For making me, so young, so old a widow;
And, when thou wedd’st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;
75 And be thy wife, if any be so mad,
More miserable by the life of thee
Than thou hast made me by my dear lord’s death.
Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,
Within so small a time my woman’s heart
80 Grossly grew captive to his honey words
And proved the subject of mine own soul’s curse,
Which hitherto hath held my eyes from rest,
For never yet one hour in his bed
Did I enjoyed the golden dew of sleep,
85 But with his timorous dreams was still awaked.
Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick,
And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
|
ANNE No? Why? When he that is my husband now
Came to me, as I followed Henry’s corse,
When scarce the blood was well washed from his hands
Which issued from my other angel husband
And that dear saint which then I weeping followed—
O, when, I say, I looked on Richard’s face,
This was my wish: be thou, quoth I, accursed
For making me, so young, so old a widow;
And, when thou wedd’st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;
And be thy wife, if any be so mad,
More miserable by the life of thee
Than thou hast made me by my dear lord’s death.
Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,
Within so small a time my woman’s heart
Grossly grew captive to his honey words
And proved the subject of mine own soul’s curse,
Which hitherto hath held my eyes from rest,
For never yet one hour in his bed
Did I enjoyed the golden dew of sleep,
But with his timorous dreams was still awaked.
Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick,
And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Poor heart, adieu. I pity thy complaining.
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Poor heart, adieu. I pity thy complaining.
|
|
ANNE No more than from my soul I mourn for yours.
|
ANNE No more than from my soul I mourn for yours.
|
|
DORSET 90 Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory.
|
DORSET Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory.
|
|
ANNE Adieu, poor soul that tak’st thy leave of it.
|
ANNE Adieu, poor soul that tak’st thy leave of it.
|
|
DUCHESS (to DORSET)
Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee.
(to ANNE) Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee.
Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee.
I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me.
Eighty-odd years of sorrow have I seen,
And each hour’s joy wracked with a week of teen.
|
DUCHESS (to DORSET)
Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee.
(to ANNE) Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee.
Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee.
I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me.
Eighty-odd years of sorrow have I seen,
And each hour’s joy wracked with a week of teen.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH 100 Stay, yet look back with me unto the Tower.—
Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes
Whom envy hath immured within your walls—
Rough cradle for such little pretty ones.
Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow
105 For tender princes, use my babies well.
So foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell.
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Stay, yet look back with me unto the Tower.—
Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes
Whom envy hath immured within your walls—
Rough cradle for such little pretty ones.
Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow
For tender princes, use my babies well.
So foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell.
|
|
Exeunt
|
Exeunt
|
Original Text |
Modern Text |
|
Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH , DUCHESS of York, and DORSET at one door; ANNE , duchess of Gloucester with CLARENCE ’s young daughter at another door
|
Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH , DUCHESS of York, and DORSET at one door; ANNE , duchess of Gloucester with CLARENCE ’s young daughter at another door
|
|
DUCHESS Who meets us here? My niece Plantagenet
Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester?
Now, for my life, she’s wandering to the Tower,
On pure heart’s love, to greet the tender prince.—
5 Daughter, well met.
|
DUCHESS Who meets us here? My niece Plantagenet
Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester?
Now, for my life, she’s wandering to the Tower,
On pure heart’s love, to greet the tender prince.—
Daughter, well met.
|
|
ANNE God give your Graces both
A happy and a joyful time of day.
|
ANNE God give your Graces both
A happy and a joyful time of day.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH As much to you, good sister. Whither away?
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH As much to you, good sister. Whither away?
|
|
ANNE No farther than the Tower, and, as I guess,
Upon the like devotion as yourselves,
10 To gratulate the gentle princes there.
|
ANNE No farther than the Tower, and, as I guess,
Upon the like devotion as yourselves,
To gratulate the gentle princes there.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Kind sister, thanks. We’ll enter all together.
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Kind sister, thanks. We’ll enter all together.
|
|
Enter BRAKENBURY
|
Enter BRAKENBURY
|
|
And in good time here the lieutenant comes.—
Master Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,
How doth the prince and my young son of York?
|
And in good time here the lieutenant comes.—
Master Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,
How doth the prince and my young son of York?
|
|
BRAKENBURY 15 Right well, dear madam. By your patience,
I may not suffer you to visit them.
The king hath strictly charged the contrary.
|
BRAKENBURY Right well, dear madam. By your patience,
I may not suffer you to visit them.
The king hath strictly charged the contrary.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH The king? Who’s that?
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH The king? Who’s that?
|
|
BRAKENBURY I mean, the Lord Protector.
|
BRAKENBURY I mean, the Lord Protector.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH The Lord protect him from that kingly title!
20 Hath he set bounds between their love and me?
I am their mother. Who shall bar me from them?
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH The Lord protect him from that kingly title!
Hath he set bounds between their love and me?
I am their mother. Who shall bar me from them?
|
|
DUCHESS I am their father’s mother. I will see them.
|
DUCHESS I am their father’s mother. I will see them.
|
|
ANNE Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother.
Then bring me to their sights. I’ll bear thy blame
25 And take thy office from thee, on my peril.
|
ANNE Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother.
Then bring me to their sights. I’ll bear thy blame
And take thy office from thee, on my peril.
|
|
BRAKENBURY No, madam, no. I may not leave it so.
I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.
|
BRAKENBURY No, madam, no. I may not leave it so.
I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.
|
|
Exit
|
Exit
|
|
Enter Lord STANLEY , earl of Derby
|
Enter Lord STANLEY , earl of Derby
|
|
STANLEY Let me but meet you ladies one hour hence,
And I’ll salute your Grace of York as mother
30 And reverend looker-on, of two fair queens.
(to ANNE)
Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster,
There to be crownèd Richard’s royal queen.
|
STANLEY Let me but meet you ladies one hour hence,
And I’ll salute your Grace of York as mother
And reverend looker-on, of two fair queens.
(to ANNE)
Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster,
There to be crownèd Richard’s royal queen.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Ah, cut my lace asunder,
35 That my pent heart may have some scope to beat,
Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news!
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Ah, cut my lace asunder,
That my pent heart may have some scope to beat,
Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news!
|
|
ANNE Despiteful tidings! O, unpleasing news!
|
ANNE Despiteful tidings! O, unpleasing news!
|
|
DORSET (to QUEEN ELIZABETH) Be of good cheer, mother. How fares
your Grace?
|
DORSET (to QUEEN ELIZABETH) Be of good cheer, mother. How fares
your Grace?
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH O Dorset, speak not to me. Get thee gone.
40 Death and destruction dogs thee at thy heels.
Thy mother’s name is ominous to children.
If thou wilt outstrip death, go, cross the seas,
And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell.
Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughterhouse,
45 Lest thou increase the number of the dead
And make me die the thrall of Margaret’s curse,
Nor mother, wife, nor England’s counted queen.
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH O Dorset, speak not to me. Get thee gone.
Death and destruction dogs thee at thy heels.
Thy mother’s name is ominous to children.
If thou wilt outstrip death, go, cross the seas,
And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell.
Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughterhouse,
Lest thou increase the number of the dead
And make me die the thrall of Margaret’s curse,
Nor mother, wife, nor England’s counted queen.
|
|
STANLEY Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.
(to DORSET) Take all the swift advantage of the hours.
50 You shall have letters from me to my son
In your behalf, to meet you on the way.
Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.
|
STANLEY Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.
(to DORSET) Take all the swift advantage of the hours.
You shall have letters from me to my son
In your behalf, to meet you on the way.
Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.
|
|
DUCHESS O ill-dispersing wind of misery!
O my accursèd womb, the bed of death!
55 A cockatrice hast thou hatched to the world,
Whose unavoided eye is murderous.
|
DUCHESS O ill-dispersing wind of misery!
O my accursèd womb, the bed of death!
A cockatrice hast thou hatched to the world,
Whose unavoided eye is murderous.
|
|
STANLEY (to ANNE) Come, madam, come. I in all haste was sent.
|
STANLEY (to ANNE) Come, madam, come. I in all haste was sent.
|
|
ANNE And I in all unwillingness will go.
O, would to God that the inclusive verge
60 Of golden metal that must round my brow
Were red-hot steel to sear me to the brains!
Anointed let me be with deadly venom,
And die ere men can say, “God save the Queen.”
|
ANNE And I in all unwillingness will go.
O, would to God that the inclusive verge
Of golden metal that must round my brow
Were red-hot steel to sear me to the brains!
Anointed let me be with deadly venom,
And die ere men can say, “God save the Queen.”
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory.
65 To feed my humor, wish thyself no harm.
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory.
To feed my humor, wish thyself no harm.
|
|
ANNE No? Why? When he that is my husband now
Came to me, as I followed Henry’s corse,
When scarce the blood was well washed from his hands
Which issued from my other angel husband
70 And that dear saint which then I weeping followed—
O, when, I say, I looked on Richard’s face,
This was my wish: be thou, quoth I, accursed
For making me, so young, so old a widow;
And, when thou wedd’st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;
75 And be thy wife, if any be so mad,
More miserable by the life of thee
Than thou hast made me by my dear lord’s death.
Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,
Within so small a time my woman’s heart
80 Grossly grew captive to his honey words
And proved the subject of mine own soul’s curse,
Which hitherto hath held my eyes from rest,
For never yet one hour in his bed
Did I enjoyed the golden dew of sleep,
85 But with his timorous dreams was still awaked.
Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick,
And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
|
ANNE No? Why? When he that is my husband now
Came to me, as I followed Henry’s corse,
When scarce the blood was well washed from his hands
Which issued from my other angel husband
And that dear saint which then I weeping followed—
O, when, I say, I looked on Richard’s face,
This was my wish: be thou, quoth I, accursed
For making me, so young, so old a widow;
And, when thou wedd’st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;
And be thy wife, if any be so mad,
More miserable by the life of thee
Than thou hast made me by my dear lord’s death.
Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,
Within so small a time my woman’s heart
Grossly grew captive to his honey words
And proved the subject of mine own soul’s curse,
Which hitherto hath held my eyes from rest,
For never yet one hour in his bed
Did I enjoyed the golden dew of sleep,
But with his timorous dreams was still awaked.
Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick,
And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Poor heart, adieu. I pity thy complaining.
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Poor heart, adieu. I pity thy complaining.
|
|
ANNE No more than from my soul I mourn for yours.
|
ANNE No more than from my soul I mourn for yours.
|
|
DORSET 90 Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory.
|
DORSET Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory.
|
|
ANNE Adieu, poor soul that tak’st thy leave of it.
|
ANNE Adieu, poor soul that tak’st thy leave of it.
|
|
DUCHESS (to DORSET)
Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee.
(to ANNE) Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee.
Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee.
I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me.
Eighty-odd years of sorrow have I seen,
And each hour’s joy wracked with a week of teen.
|
DUCHESS (to DORSET)
Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee.
(to ANNE) Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee.
Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee.
I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me.
Eighty-odd years of sorrow have I seen,
And each hour’s joy wracked with a week of teen.
|
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH 100 Stay, yet look back with me unto the Tower.—
Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes
Whom envy hath immured within your walls—
Rough cradle for such little pretty ones.
Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow
105 For tender princes, use my babies well.
So foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell.
|
QUEEN ELIZABETH Stay, yet look back with me unto the Tower.—
Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes
Whom envy hath immured within your walls—
Rough cradle for such little pretty ones.
Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow
For tender princes, use my babies well.
So foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell.
|
|
Exeunt
|
Exeunt
|
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