ACT 1
Scene 1
Alarum. Enter Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York; Edward; Richard; Norfolk; Montague; Warwick; and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.

...the battles joined.
holding up a severed head
Speak thou for me, and tell them what I did.

...John of Gaunt!
Thus do I hope to shake King Henry’s head.

...me this night.
They go up onto a dais or platform.

...win our right.
Armed as we are, let’s stay within this house.

...nine months old.
You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose.—
Father, tear the crown from the usurper’s head.

...stand caviling thus.
Sound drums and trumpets, and the King will fly.

...make them foes.
Sennet. Here they come down.

...whence I came.
York, Edward, Richard, Warwick, Norfolk, Montague, and their Soldiers exit.

Scene 2

...reconcile them all.
Enter Richard, Edward, and Montague, all wearing the white rose.
Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave.

...contention. About what?
About that which concerns your Grace and us:
The crown of England, father, which is yours.

...Henry be dead.
Your right depends not on his life or death.

...reign one year.
No, God forbid your Grace should be forsworn.

...by open war.
I’ll prove the contrary, if you’ll hear me speak.

...it is impossible.
An oath is of no moment, being not took
Before a true and lawful magistrate
That hath authority over him that swears.
Henry had none, but did usurp the place.
Then, seeing ’twas he that made you to depose,
Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown,
Within whose circuit is Elysium
And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.
Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest
Until the white rose that I wear be dyed
Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry’s heart.

...five thousand men?
Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need.
A woman’s general; what should we fear?

...the like success?
Alarum. They exit.

ACT 2
Scene 1

...town of York.
A march. Enter Edward, Richard, and their power, all wearing the white rose.

...he so sad?
I cannot joy until I be resolved
Where our right valiant father is become.
I saw him in the battle range about
And watched him how he singled Clifford forth.
Methought he bore him in the thickest troop
As doth a lion in a herd of neat,
Or as a bear encompassed round with dogs,
Who having pinched a few and made them cry,
The rest stand all aloof and bark at him;
So fared our father with his enemies;
So fled his enemies my warlike father.
Methinks ’tis prize enough to be his son.
See how the morning opes her golden gates
And takes her farewell of the glorious sun.
How well resembles it the prime of youth,
Trimmed like a younker, prancing to his love!

...see three suns?
Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun,
Not separated with the racking clouds
But severed in a pale clear-shining sky.
See, see, they join, embrace, and seem to kiss,
As if they vowed some league inviolable.
Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun;
In this, the heaven figures some event.

...fair shining suns.
Nay, bear three daughters: by your leave I speak it,
You love the breeder better than the male.

Enter a Messenger, blowing.
But what art thou whose heavy looks foretell
Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue?

...heard too much!
Say how he died, for I will hear it all.

...more joy!He weeps.
I cannot weep, for all my body’s moisture
Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart;
Nor can my tongue unload my heart’s great burden,
For selfsame wind that I should speak withal
Is kindling coals that fires all my breast
And burns me up with flames that tears would quench.
To weep is to make less the depth of grief:
Tears, then, for babes; blows and revenge for me.
Richard, I bear thy name. I’ll venge thy death
Or die renownèd by attempting it.

...me is left.
Nay, if thou be that princely eagle’s bird,
Show thy descent by gazing ’gainst the sun;
For “chair” and “dukedom,” “throne” and “kingdom” say;
Either that is thine or else thou wert not his.

...what news abroad?
Great lord of Warwick, if we should recount
Our baleful news, and at each word’s deliverance
Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told,
The words would add more anguish than the wounds.
O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain.

...this needful war.
’Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled.
Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit,
But ne’er till now his scandal of retire.

...peace, and prayer.
I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not.
’Tis love I bear thy glories make me speak.
But in this troublous time, what’s to be done?
Shall we go throw away our coats of steel
And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns,
Numb’ring our Ave Marys with our beads?
Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?
If for the last, say “Ay,” and to it, lords.

...back and fly.
Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak.
Ne’er may he live to see a sunshine day
That cries “Retire!” if Warwick bid him stay.

...about our task.
Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,
As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,
I come to pierce it or to give thee mine.

...warriors, let’s away!
They all exit.

Scene 2

...“Saint George!”
March. Enter Edward, Warwick, Richard, George, Norfolk, Montague, and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.

...but the son?
Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak!

...of thy sort.
’Twas you that killed young Rutland, was it not?

...yet not satisfied.
For God’s sake, lords, give signal to the fight!

...make you stay.
Northumberland, I hold thee reverently.—
Break off the parley, for scarce I can refrain
The execution of my big-swoll’n heart
Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.

...him a child?
Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward,
As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland.
But ere sunset I’ll make thee curse the deed.

...therefore, be still.
Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword.
By Him that made us all, I am resolved
That Clifford’s manhood lies upon his tongue.

...everything is right.
Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands,
For well I wot thou hast thy mother’s tongue.

...lizards’ dreadful stings.
Iron of Naples, hid with English gilt,
Whose father bears the title of a king,
As if a channel should be called the sea,
Sham’st thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught,
To let thy tongue detect thy baseborn heart?

...lives this day.
They all exit.

Scene 3

...cannot shun pursuit.
Enter Richard, wearing the white rose.
Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself?
Thy brother’s blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,
Broached with the steely point of Clifford’s lance,
And in the very pangs of death he cried,
Like to a dismal clangor heard from far,
“Warwick, revenge! Brother, revenge my death!”
So, underneath the belly of their steeds,
That stained their fetlocks in his smoking blood,
The noble gentleman gave up the ghost.

...or in Earth.
Brother, give me thy hand.—And, gentle Warwick,
Let me embrace thee in my weary arms.
I that did never weep now melt with woe
That winter should cut off our springtime so.

...we hence amain.
They exit.

Scene 4
Enter, at separate doors, Richard wearing the white rose, and Clifford, wearing the red rose.
Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone.
Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York,
And this for Rutland, both bound to revenge,
Wert thou environed with a brazen wall.

...have at thee!
They fight; Warwick comes; Clifford flies.
Nay, Warwick, single out some other chase,
For I myself will hunt this wolf to death.
They exit.

Scene 6

...breast. He faints.
Alarum and retreat. Enter Edward, Warwick, Richard, and Soldiers, Montague, and George, all wearing the white rose.

...groans, and dies.
Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave?
A deadly groan, like life and death’s departing.

...be gently used.
Revoke that doom of mercy, for ’tis Clifford,
Who not contented that he lopped the branch
In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth,
But set his murd’ring knife unto the root
From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring,
I mean our princely father, Duke of York.

...what we say.
O, would he did—and so, perhaps, he doth!
’Tis but his policy to counterfeit,
Because he would avoid such bitter taunts
Which in the time of death he gave our father.

...with eager words.
Clifford, ask mercy and obtain no grace.

...for thy faults.
Thou didst love York, and I am son to York.

...thou wast wont.
What, not an oath? Nay, then, the world goes hard
When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath.
I know by that he’s dead; and, by my soul,
If this right hand would buy but two hours’ life
That I in all despite might rail at him,
This hand should chop it off, and with the issuing blood
Stifle the villain whose unstaunchèd thirst
York and young Rutland could not satisfy.

...him pleaseth best.
Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester,
For Gloucester’s dukedom is too ominous.

...honors in possession.
They exit, with Clifford’s body.

ACT 3
Scene 2

...humbly yield unto.
Enter King Edward, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, George, Duke of Clarence, Lady Grey, and Attendants.

...lose his life.
Your Highness shall do well to grant her suit;
It were dishonor to deny it her.

...make a pause.
aside to Clarence
Yea, is it so?
I see the lady hath a thing to grant
Before the King will grant her humble suit.

...keeps the wind!
aside to Clarence
Silence!

...shall satisfy me.
aside to Clarence
Ay, widow? Then I’ll warrant you all your lands,
An if what pleases him shall pleasure you.
Fight closer, or, good faith, you’ll catch a blow.

...chance to fall.
aside to Clarence
God forbid that, for he’ll take vantages.

...child of her.
aside to Clarence
Nay, then, whip me; he’ll rather give her two.

...most gracious lord.
aside to Clarence
You shall have four if you’ll be ruled by him.

...this widow’s wit.
Richard and Clarence stand aside.
aside to Clarence
Ay, good leave have you, for you will have leave
Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch.

...your Grace commands.
aside to Clarence
He plies her hard, and much rain wears the marble.

...begins to exit.
aside to Clarence
The match is made; she seals it with a cursy.

...at an end.
aside to Clarence
The widow likes him not; she knits her brows.

...be my queen.
aside to Clarence
The ghostly father now hath done his shrift.

...two have had.
The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad.

...Clarence, to myself.
That would be ten days’ wonder at the least.

...a wonder lasts.
By so much is the wonder in extremes.

...use her honorably.
Ay, Edward will use women honorably!
Would he were wasted—marrow, bones, and all—
That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring
To cross me from the golden time I look for.
And yet, between my soul’s desire and me,
The lustful Edward’s title burièd,
Is Clarence, Henry, and his son, young Edward,
And all the unlooked-for issue of their bodies
To take their rooms ere I can place myself.
A cold premeditation for my purpose.
Why, then, I do but dream on sovereignty
Like one that stands upon a promontory
And spies a far-off shore where he would tread,
Wishing his foot were equal with his eye,
And chides the sea that sunders him from thence,
Saying he’ll lade it dry to have his way.
So do I wish the crown, being so far off,
And so I chide the means that keeps me from it,
And so, I say, I’ll cut the causes off,
Flattering me with impossibilities.
My eye’s too quick, my heart o’erweens too much,
Unless my hand and strength could equal them.
Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard,
What other pleasure can the world afford?
I’ll make my heaven in a lady’s lap
And deck my body in gay ornaments,
And ’witch sweet ladies with my words and looks.
O miserable thought, and more unlikely
Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns!
Why, Love forswore me in my mother’s womb,
And, for I should not deal in her soft laws,
She did corrupt frail Nature with some bribe
To shrink mine arm up like a withered shrub;
To make an envious mountain on my back,
Where sits Deformity to mock my body;
To shape my legs of an unequal size;
To disproportion me in every part,
Like to a chaos, or an unlicked bear-whelp,
That carries no impression like the dam.
And am I then a man to be beloved?
O monstrous fault to harbor such a thought!
Then, since this Earth affords no joy to me
But to command, to check, to o’erbear such
As are of better person than myself,
I’ll make my heaven to dream upon the crown,
And, whiles I live, t’ account this world but hell
Until my misshaped trunk that bears this head
Be round impalèd with a glorious crown.
And yet I know not how to get the crown,
For many lives stand between me and home;
And I, like one lost in a thorny wood,
That rents the thorns and is rent with the thorns,
Seeking a way and straying from the way,
Not knowing how to find the open air,
But toiling desperately to find it out,
Torment myself to catch the English crown.
And from that torment I will free myself
Or hew my way out with a bloody axe.
Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile,
And cry “Content” to that which grieves my heart,
And wet my cheeks with artificial tears,
And frame my face to all occasions.
I’ll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall;
I’ll slay more gazers than the basilisk;
I’ll play the orator as well as Nestor,
Deceive more slyly than Ulysses could,
And, like a Sinon, take another Troy.
I can add colors to the chameleon,
Change shapes with Proteus for advantages,
And set the murderous Machiavel to school.
Can I do this and cannot get a crown?
Tut, were it farther off, I’ll pluck it down.
He exits.

ACT 4
Scene 1

...on Edward’s mockery.
Enter Richard of Gloucester, Clarence, Somerset, and Montague, all wearing the white rose.
Now tell me, brother Clarence, what think you
Of this new marriage with the Lady Grey?
Hath not our brother made a worthy choice?

...comes the King.
And his well-chosen bride.

...have my will.
And shall have your will because our king.
Yet hasty marriage seldom proveth well.

...you offended too?
Not I.
No, God forbid that I should wish them severed
Whom God hath joined together. Ay, and ’twere pity
To sunder them that yoke so well together.

...the Lady Bona.
And Warwick, doing what you gave in charge,
Is now dishonorèd by this new marriage.

...stand for law.
And yet methinks your Grace hath not done well
To give the heir and daughter of Lord Scales
Unto the brother of your loving bride.
She better would have fitted me or Clarence;
But in your bride you bury brotherhood.

...of my wrath.
aside
I hear, yet say not much, but think the more.

...Warwick, follow me.
aside
Not I. My thoughts aim at a further matter:
I stay not for the love of Edward, but the crown.

...stand by us?
Ay, in despite of all that shall withstand you.

...his foreign power.
They exit.

Scene 3

...or thou diest!
Richard and Hastings flies over the stage.

Scene 5

...sure to die.
Enter Richard of Gloucester, Lord Hastings, and Sir William Stanley, with Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.
Now, my Lord Hastings and Sir William Stanley,
Leave off to wonder why I drew you hither
Into this chiefest thicket of the park.
Thus stands the case: you know our king, my brother,
Is prisoner to the Bishop here, at whose hands
He hath good usage and great liberty,
And, often but attended with weak guard,
Comes hunting this way to disport himself.
I have advertised him by secret means
That, if about this hour he make this way
Under the color of his usual game,
He shall here find his friends with horse and men
To set him free from his captivity.

...the Bishop’s deer?
Brother, the time and case requireth haste.
Your horse stands ready at the park corner.

... to Flanders.
Well guessed, believe me, for that was my meaning.

...requite thy forwardness.
But wherefore stay we? ’Tis no time to talk.

...and be hanged.
Come then, away! Let’s ha’ no more ado.

...repossess the crown.
They exit.

Scene 7

...about it speedily.
Flourish. Enter King Edward, Richard, Hastings, and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.

...at the gate.
The gates made fast? Brother, I like not this.
For many men that stumble at the threshold
Are well foretold that danger lurks within.

...with that alone.
aside
But when the fox hath once got in his nose,
He’ll soon find means to make the body follow.

...then be opened.
A wise stout captain, and soon persuaded.

...Drum and Soldiers.
Brother, this is Sir John Montgomery,
Our trusty friend, unless I be deceived.

...pretend no title?
Why, brother, wherefore stand you on nice points?

...arms must rule.
And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
Brother, we will proclaim you out of hand;
The bruit thereof will bring you many friends.

...down his gauntlet.
Long live Edward the Fourth!

...of large pay.
They exit.

Scene 8

...shouts are these?
Enter King Edward and Richard and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.

...our hoped-for hay.
Away betimes, before his forces join,
And take the great-grown traitor unawares.
Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry.
They exit.

ACT 5
Scene 1

...shall quickly know.
March. Flourish. Enter below, King Edward, Richard, and Soldiers, including a Trumpeter, all wearing the white rose.

...sound a parle.
See how the surly Warwick mans the wall.

...Duke of York.
I thought at least he would have said “the King.”
Or did he make the jest against his will?

...a goodly gift?
Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give.
I’ll do thee service for so good a gift.

...head is off?
Alas, that Warwick had no more forecast,
But whiles he thought to steal the single ten,
The King was slyly fingered from the deck.
You left poor Henry at the Bishop’s palace,
And ten to one you’ll meet him in the Tower.

...are Warwick still.
Come, Warwick, take the time; kneel down, kneel down.
Nay, when? Strike now, or else the iron cools.

...Oxford for Lancaster!
The gates are open; let us enter too.

...Montague for Lancaster!
Thou and thy brother both shall buy this treason
Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear!

...Somerset for Lancaster!
Two of thy name, both dukes of Somerset,
Have sold their lives unto the house of York,
And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold.

...deserved our hate.
Welcome, good Clarence; this is brother-like.

...George and victory!
They exit. March. Warwick and his company follows.

Scene 3

...Queen’s great power!
Flourish. Enter King Edward in triumph, with Richard, Clarence, and the rest, all wearing the white rose.

...not a storm.
The Queen is valued thirty thousand strong,
And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her.
If she have time to breathe, be well assured
Her faction will be full as strong as ours.

...“Courage!” and away.
They exit.

Scene 4

...will not budge.
Flourish, and march. Enter King Edward, Richard, Clarence, and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.

...to the fight!
They exit.

Scene 5
Flourish. Enter King Edward, Richard, and Clarence, all wearing the white rose, with Soldiers guarding Queen Margaret, Oxford, and Somerset, all wearing the red rose, prisoners.

...he his life?
It is, and lo where youthful Edward comes.

...been so resolved!
That you might still have worn the petticoat
And ne’er have stol’n the breech from Lancaster.

...with this place.
By heaven, brat, I’ll plague you for that word.

...plague to men.
For God’s sake, take away this captive scold.

...railer here!Stabs him.
Sprawl’st thou? Take that to end thy agony!
Richard stabs him.

...kill me too!
Marry, and shall.
Offers to kill her.

...done too much.
Why should she live to fill the world with words?

...to revive her.
taking Clarence aside
Clarence, excuse me to the King my brother.
I’ll hence to London on a serious matter.
Ere you come there, be sure to hear some news.

... What? What?
The Tower, the Tower!
He exits.

Scene 6

...son for me.
Enter King Henry the Sixth, wearing the red rose, and Richard of Gloucester, wearing the white rose, with the Lieutenant above on the Tower walls.
Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard?

...not “good lord.”
to Lieutenant
Sirrah, leave us to ourselves; we must confer.

...now to act?
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind;
The thief doth fear each bush an officer.

...and killed.
Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete
That taught his son the office of a fowl!
And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drowned.

...for my life?
Think’st thou I am an executioner?

...art an executioner.
Thy son I killed for his presumption.

...heard, Thou cam’st—
I’ll hear no more. Die, prophet, in thy speech; Stabs him.
For this amongst the rest was I ordained.

...and pardon thee.Dies.
What, will the aspiring blood of Lancaster
Sink in the ground? I thought it would have mounted.
See how my sword weeps for the poor king’s death.
O, may such purple tears be always shed
From those that wish the downfall of our house.
If any spark of life be yet remaining,
Down, down to hell, and say I sent thee thither— Stabs him again.
I that have neither pity, love, nor fear.
Indeed, ’tis true that Henry told me of,
For I have often heard my mother say
I came into the world with my legs forward.
Had I not reason, think you, to make haste
And seek their ruin that usurped our right?
The midwife wondered, and the women cried
“O Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!”
And so I was, which plainly signified
That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog.
Then, since the heavens have shaped my body so,
Let hell make crook’d my mind to answer it.
I have no brother, I am like no brother;
And this word “love,” which graybeards call divine,
Be resident in men like one another
And not in me. I am myself alone.
Clarence, beware; thou keep’st me from the light,
But I will sort a pitchy day for thee;
For I will buzz abroad such prophecies
That Edward shall be fearful of his life;
And then to purge his fear, I’ll be thy death.
King Henry and the Prince his son are gone.
Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest,
Counting myself but bad till I be best.
I’ll throw thy body in another room,
And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom.
He exits, carrying out the body.

Scene 7
Flourish. Enter King Edward, Queen Elizabeth, Clarence, Richard of Gloucester, Hastings, Nurse, carrying infant Prince Edward, and Attendants.

...reap the gain.
aside
I’ll blast his harvest, if your head were laid;
For yet I am not looked on in the world.
This shoulder was ordained so thick to heave,
And heave it shall some weight or break my back.
Work thou the way and that shalt execute.

...worthy brother, thanks.
And that I love the tree from whence thou sprang’st,
Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit. He kisses the infant.
Aside.
To say the truth, so Judas kissed his master
And cried “All hail!” whenas he meant all harm.

...our lasting joy.
Flourish. They all exit.