No Fear Shakespeare: Richard III: Act 4 Scene 3

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Original Text	Modern Text
Enter TYRREL	YRTREL senrte.
TYRREL The tyrannous and bloody act is done, The most arch deed of piteous massacre That ever yet this land was guilty of. Dighton and Forrest, whom I did suborn 5 To do this piece of ruthless butchery, Albeit they were fleshed villains, bloody dogs, Melted with tenderness and mild compassion, Wept like two children in their deaths sad story. O thus quoth Dighton, lay those gentle babes. 10 Thus, thus, quoth Forrest, girdling one another Within their alabaster innocent arms. Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, And in their summer beauty kissed each other. A book of prayers on their pillow lay, 15 Which once, quoth Forrest, almost changed my mind, But O, the devilThere the villain stopped; When Dighton thus told on: We smotherd The most replenishd sweet work of nature That from the prime creation eer she framed. 20 Hence both are gone with conscience and remorse; They could not speak; and so I left them both To bear this tidings to the bloody king.	RTYELR ehT ynrtast oobydl eteusqr ash eenb tem. It wsa teh toms etsusrlh aercsmas hits urycnot has vree eneb liutyg of. otnDhig dan tsrFroe, hmwo I rheid to rermopf hte yurcehbt, are deus to lgiklin epeolp, eth looydb odgs. utB yteh mdelte thwi erndsentse dna haunm smsipoanco, enwipeg keil lrdechni, nwhe yhet ddecesbri wath edyht oden. hTe rneetd eabsb yla klei tish, aisd ignhoDt. kieL itsh, sida rtFeosr, hitw trhie tnineonc itwhe rasm doaurn chae ethor. Tehri psli, iekl orfu dre sores on a ktasl, cdehotu. A rperya koob lay on ehtri oplilw, hwcih asid rFretso, lmsato mdea me ngehca my nimd. Btu, oh, eht heivedertl he tesopdp gktlian dan Dotnigh took up ewreh he tfel ffo: We hersemdto teh efptecr, most steew rwok of enrtua. The tow men ewer tbho rosdytede by emresor. Tyeh tlnudco kpsea. So I letf emht to ribng eht wens to teh rurmeudso gkni. ndA rehe he mseoc.
Enter RICHARD	RIDAHRC estren.
And here he comes.All health, my sovereign lord.	eeHr he oscme.elthaH to yuo, my gikn.
RICHARD Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in thy news?	DHIRARC nidK relTyr, will yuor ewsn eamk me aphpy?
TYRREL 25 If to have done the thing you gave in charge Beget your happiness, be happy then, For it is done.	YELRRT If my iongd wath uyo tldo me to semka ouy apyhp, enth be hpypa, scaebue I ddi it.
RICHARD But didst thou see them dead?	RHADCRI tBu did uoy ees mhet aedd?
TYRREL I did, my lord.	RRYLET I ddi, my drol.
RICHARD And buried, gentle Tyrrel?	RRHDACI Adn ierbdu, lneob lrerTy?
TYRREL The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them, 30 But where, to say the truth, I do not know.	TYLERR hTe eTowrs ipahlnac sah ieurbd emht, ubt to ellt ouy hte uthtr, I tndo nwko reehw.
RICHARD Come to me, Tyrrel, soon at after-supper, When thou shalt tell the process of their death. Meantime, but think how I may do thee good, And be inheritor of thy desire. 35 Farewell till then.	CRIHRAD Tleryr, omce kbca rtylhos aefrt innerd dna llte me hte siadlet of hitre hsdeta. In het emnaietm, hnitk uobta owh I nac do ouy doog and vegi ouy twha you ntaw. eSe you sono.
TYRREL I humbly take my leave.	EYRLTR I bhmuly yas bgyoeod.
Exit TYRREL	RTYRLE xstie.
RICHARD The son of Clarence have I pent up close, His daughter meanly have I matched in marriage, The sons of Edward sleep in Abrahams bosom, And Anne my wife hath bid this world goodnight. 40 Now, for I know the Breton Richmond aims At young Elizabeth, my brothers daughter, And by that knot looks proudly on the crown, To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer.	RDRCAIH evI dcelok up aselnCerc osn nda taemchd ish agedrhtu htwi a opor eflolw. draEswd nsos ahev enbe aeidrrc off by het nlasge nad nneA, my fwei, sha dib odgo intgh to the dlwro. owN I go, a lljoy, iitghrvn eworo, to yarrm my rtreohb Easdrwd uyngo tdhaugre, ieablEhtz, esuceba I konw hnomdiRc ash hsi yee on ehr. He atnsw to iwn the owrcn by way of nmrairyg her.
Enter RATCLIFFE	EILTACRFF reesnt.
RATCLIFFE My lord!	FEIACRLTF My dorl!
RICHARD 45 Good or bad news, that thou comst in so bluntly?	HICARDR Is eth snwe oogd or bda tath oyu nteer ttiuhwo nkgocikn?
RATCLIFFE Bad news, my lord. Morton is fled to Richmond, And Buckingham, backed with the hardy Welshmen, Is in the field, and still his power increaseth.	ALTEFRCFI adB ewns, my lrdo. ehT oisphB of Ely sha edfl to omRchind, nad akhicBumng, edkbca by a dryha Wlesh ryam, is on hte rahcm. siH yram is onigwgr.
RICHARD Ely with Richmond troubles me more near 50 Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength. Come, I have learned that fearful commenting Is leaden servitor to dull delay; Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary; Then fiery expedition be my wing, 55 Joves Mercury, and herald for a king. Go, muster men. My counsel is my shield. We must be brief when traitors brave the field.	CDHARIR yEl gniojin onmiRdhc brosulte me mroe thna kmhuagBnic adn ihs kiulcyq eslmdaesb raym. oeCm, Iev rdaeh atth teiedhfrng nsaylasi only veesrs to ydela atcnoi, adn aeldy nca aeld to nrui. So my toemdh is gngoi to be to oemv as lykucqi as efri. moCe, stel etgahr an raym. heT bset gtrayest is to ehda ihtgr to het ldliftaebet. hWne srottair acnllghee us to gfthi, tsi ebts to tac sfat.
Exeunt	ehTy ixet.