Full Play - Richard III

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I'm Ness Aquino, owner of Fab Mab. Rule of the house. Keep the blood off the floor. All right. And we've got one set from Edward of York! Alright, alright, I agree. But then... It's House of Lancaster! Anarchy rules! Alright, alright. One from... House of York. Brother. Brother. Sorry. But thou art a foul-shapest ignatement. Come on! Yeah! Yeah! Brother! Sorry, Edward. The cluster and good devil were alike. Marked by your mother's will to be avoided.

Through the hour that ever thou was born, the owl shrieked at thy birth an evil sign. Woo! Woo! Richard! The night crow fries call for the lovely signs. Dogs out. and hideous template shakedown trees. Aye, thou wast born to be a plague to men. Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain. Brought the book an impact. To signify thou came to fight the world. Where is that devil's butcher? Now is the winter of our discontent. Richard, bro, come on, get in, let's go!

made glorious summer by the sun of York and all the clouds that flowered upon our house buried in the deep bosom of the ocean. with victorious wreaths. Our bloodied arms hung up for monuments. Our stern alarms changed to merry meetings. Our dreadful marches to delightful melodies. Grim-faced war had smoothed his wrinkled brow. And now... Instead of mounting armoured steeds to fright the souls of fearful adversaries... Richard! Brother! King Edward!

He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber to the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that I'm not shaped. for sportive tricks, nor made to court an amorous looking-class. I, that am crudely shaped, a like love's majesty to strut before a wanton ambling nymph. I then am curtailed of this fair proportion, cheated of feature by dissembling nature, beformed, unfinished. sent before my time into this mortal world scarce half made up and still so lame and unfashionable that dogs

me as I live by them. Why I in this pastoral time of peace have no delight to pass away the time unless to see my shadow in the sun. and sing about my own deformity. Oh, I am so amazingly misshapen and ugly that everybody thinks it weird. Well, fuck the lot of you. I hate you as much as you hate me. Fuck off. And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, to while away these farewell spoken days, I am... determined to prove a villain. And I hate the idle pleasures of these days. Plots have I made.

Dangerous first steps taken with drunken prophecies, false words and dreams to set my brother Clarence and the king in deadly hate. The one against the other. And if King Edward be as true and just as I am subtle, false, and treacherous. Let's closely be caged up about a prophecy which says that G of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.

Our middle brother, George Clarence, comes. Brother, good day. What means this armed guard? His Majesty. Tending to my person's safety, appointed this escort to convey me to the tower. Upon what cause? Because my name is George. Oh no, my lord, that fault is none of yours.

He should for that condemn your godfathers. But what's the matter, Clarence? May I know? Yea, Richard, when I know, that I protest as yet I do not, but as I can learn... he follows such mad prophecies and dreams and says a wizard told him that by g his offspring disinherited should be and for my name of george begins with g It follows in his thought that I am he has moved his highness to imprison me. Ah, why this it is, when men are ruled by women. It is not the king that sent you to the tower.

Elizabeth, his wife Clarence, tis she that tempts him to this harsh extremity. Was it not she and that good man of honour, the Lord Rivers, her pious brother there, that made him send Lord Hastings to the tower? from where this present day he is delivered we are not safe clarence we are not safe by heaven i think there's no man secure but the queen's kindred and secret couriers i'll tell you what

I think it is for the best if we will keep in favor with the king. Beware the queen and wear her livery. His Majesty has strictly commanded that no man shall have private conference to whatsoever degree with your brother. Even so, if it please your worship, Brackenbury, you may partake of anything we say. We speak no treason, man. Con esto, señor mío.

I do beseech your grace to pardon me and also refrain from conversing with the noble duke. We know thy orders, Brackenberry, and will obey. We are the queen's abjects and must obey. Brother, farewell. I will go to the king and do whatever you will need me to do that I need to do in order to free you. Meantime, how a deep disgrace in brotherhood. Touches me deeper than you can imagine. I know it. Please, not either of us will. Your imprisonment shall not be long. I will release you.

or else lie down for you. Meantime, have patience. No tengo opción. I must. Farewell. Tread the path that thou shalt mere return. Simple, plain Clarence. I do love thee so that I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, if heaven will take the present from my hands.

But who comes here? The now freed Lord Hastings. Good time of day unto my gracious Lord. As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain. Well are you welcome to this open air. How has your lordship braved imprisonment? With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must. But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks that were the cause of my imprisonment. No doubt, no doubt.

and so shall Clarence too, for they that were your enemies are his, and have prevailed as much on him as you. More pity noble eagles should be caged when lowly kites and buzzards fly freely. What news abroad? Shh. No news so bad abroad as this at home. The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy. His physicians fear for him mightily. Now by St. John, that news is bad indeed. Oh, he has long kept unhealthy habits and overmuch consumed his royal person. Where is he? In his bed? He is.

Go you before, and I will follow you. Very well. He cannot live, I hope, and must not die till George be saddled on swift horse up to heaven. Which done, God take King Edward with his mercy and leave the world for me to bustle in. For then, I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter, Anne. Though I killed her husband and his father. The readiest way to make the wench amends is to become her husband and her father.

But yet I run before my horse to market. Clarence still breathes, Edward still lives and reigns. But once they're gone, then must I count my gains.

Thank you. Thank you for coming. Ready? Lift. Set down! Set down your honorable load, if honor may be shrouded in a hearse! while I a while devoutly mourn and lament the untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster. Poor key-cold figure of our King Henry. Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster. Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood. Be it lawful that I thus call forth thy ghost to hear the lamentations of poor Anne, wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son, stabbed.

by the selfsame hand that made these wounds. Lo, through those portals that poured forth thy life, I pour the tearful balm of my poor eyes. Oh, cursed be the hand that made these holes. Cursed the blood that let your blood spill hence. Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it. If ever he have wife, let her be made more miserable by the death of him than I am made by my young lord and thee. Come now.

towards Chertsey with your holy load taken from St. Paul's to be buried there. Ready. Stay, you that bear the corpse, and set it down. What black magician conjures up this fiend to stop devoted charitable deeds? Villains, set down the corpse! Or by Saint Paul, I'll make a corpse of him that disobeys! What? Do you tremble? Are you all afraid? Oh, no. I blame you not, for you are mortal, and mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.

Be gone, thou dreadful minister of hell! Thou wields but power over his mortal body, his soul thou canst not have. Therefore be gone! Sweet saint, for charity be not so cursed! Foul devil, for God's sake go and trouble us not, for thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, filled it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, behold this pattern of thy butcheries. Oh, gentlemen, see, see dead Henry's wounds.

Open their congealed mouths and bleed afresh. Blush, blush thou lump of foul deformity, for tis thy presence that exhales this blood from cold and empty veins where no blood dwells. Thy deeds, inhuman and unnatural, provoke this deluge supernatural. As earth does swallow up this good. king's blood, which his hell-governed arm hath butchered. Lady, you know no rules of charity which renders good for bad blessings for curses.

Villain, thou know'st not law of God nor man. Fierce beasts even know some touch of pity. But I know none, and therefore am no beast. Oh, what? Wonderful when devils tell the truth. More wonderful when angels are so angry. Grant me divine perfection of a woman. For these supposed crimes. To give me leave by circumstance, but to acquit myself. Grant me disordered infection of a man. For these known evils, but to give me leave by circumstance, to curse thy cursed self.

Fairer than tongue can name thee. Let me have with patience some chance to excuse myself. Fouler than heart can think thee. Thou can make no honest excuse but to hang thyself. By such despair I should accuse myself. And by despairing shalt thou stand excused for doing worthy vengeance on thyself that did unworthy slaughter upon others. Ah, say that I slew them not. Oh, then say they were not slain, but dead they are, and devilish slave by thee. I did not kill your husband. Why then?

Nay, he is dead and slain by Edward's hands. In thy foul throat thou liest. God grant me. Didst thou not kill this king? I'll grant you that. Dost grant me, hedgehog? Then God grant me too. Thou may be damned for that wicked deed. Oh, he was... Gentle, mild, and virtuous. Oh, the better for the king of heaven that has him. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never go. Let him thank me that helped to send him there, for he was fitter for that place.

than earth. And thou unfit for any place but hell. Yes. One place else, if you will hear me name it. Some dungeon. Your bedchamber. Ill rest befall the chamber where you lie. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. I hope so. I know so. But, but, gentlelady Anne. To leave this keen encounter of our wits and so follow reasons, slower method. Is not the causer of the ill-timed deaths of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, as guilty?

as the executioner. Thou wast the cause and most accursed effect. Your beauty was the cause of that effect. Your beauty that did haunt me in my sleep. to undertake the death of all the world, so I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. If I thought that I tell thee, homicide. These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. These eyes could not endure that beauty's wreck. You should not blemish it if I stood by. As all the world is cheered by the sun, so I by that.

Oh, it is my day, my life. Black night or shade thy day, and death thy life. Curse not thyself. Fair creature, thou art both. I would I were to be revenged on thee. It is a quarrel most unnatural to be revenged on him. That loves thee. It is a quarrel just and reasonable to be revenged on him that killed my husband. He that bereft thee, lady of thy husband, did it to help thee.

To a better husband. His better does not breathe upon the earth. He lives that loves thee better than he could. Name him. Plantagenet. Why, that was he. Ah, the selfsame name, but one of better nature. Where is he? Here. Why does thou spit at me? Would it were mortal poison for thy sake! Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes! Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.

Would they were basilisks to strike thee dead, with serpent stares that kill with a grim glance? Ay, would they were, and I might die at once, for now they kill me with a living death. Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, shamed their aspects, which stores of childish drops. These eyes which... Never shed remorseful tear. Thy beauty has made them blind with weeping. I never beg friend nor enemy. My tongue.

could never learn sweet smoothing word. But now thy beauty is offered us fee. My proud heart begs and prompts my tongue to speak. Teach not thy lips such scorn, for it was made for kissing, lady, not for such contempt. If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, lo, here, I lend thee this sharp-pointed blade. Which is thou pleased to hide in this true breast and let the soul forth that adores thee? I lay it naked to the deadly stroke and humbly beg the death upon my knee.

Nay, nay, do not pause. For I did kill King Henry. But t'was thy beauty that provoked me. Nay, now, quickly, t'was I that stabbed young Edward, but was thy heavenly face that set me on. Take up the blade again, or take up me. Arise, thou liar, though I wish thy death. I will not be thy executioner. Then bid me kill myself and I will do it. I have already. That was in thy rage.

Speak it again, and even with the word, this hand which for thy love did kill thy love, shall for thy love kill a far truer love. To both their deaths shall thou be accessory. I wish I knew thy heart. Tis figured in my tongue. I fear me both are false. Then never man was true. Well. Put up your blade. Say then, my peace is made. That shalt thou know hereafter. But shall I live in hope? All men, I hope, live so. So swear to wear this ring. To take is not to give. Look!

how my ring encompasses thy finger, just as thy breast encloses my poor heart, where both of them, for both of them are thine. And if thy poor devoted servant may but beg one favour at thy gracious hand, thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. What is it? That it may please you.

Leave these sad designs to him that has most cause to be a mourner, and presently repair to Crosby House, where... after I have solemnly interred at Chertsey Monastery this noble king and wet his grave with my repentant tears. I will with all expedient duty see you. Grant me this wish. With all my heart. And much enjoys me too to see that you are become so penitent. Bid me farewell. Tis more than you deserve. But…

Since you teach me how to flatter you, imagine I have said farewell already. Towards Chertsey, noble lord. No. Only white friars. Attend my coming.

Was ever woman in this humor wooed? Was ever woman in this humor one? I'll have her. But I will not keep her long. What? I... I that killed her husband and his father, to take her in her heart's extremest hate, with curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, bleeding witness of my hatred nearby. having god her conscience and these strikes against me and i know friends to back my suit besides with all those plain devil and dark disguised looks and yet

To win her? All the world against me. Nothing for me. Ha! Has she forgot already that brave prince, Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since, stabbed in my angry mood at Tewkesbury? a sweeter and a lovelier gentleman framed with the great bountiful gifts of nature young valiant wise and no doubt right royal the spacious world cannot again afford. Will she yet lower her eyes on me, that cropped the golden prime of this sweet prince?

and made her widow to a woeful bed? On me, whose all does not equal Edward's half, On me that limps and am misshapen thus. My dukedom is but a small worthless sum. I do mistake my person all this while. Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, myself to be a marvellous proper man. I'll pay a ransom for a looking-class. and so employ a score or two of tailors to study fashions to adorn my body. But first I'll toss yon fellow in his grave.

and then return lamenting to my love. Shine out fair sun, till I've a looking glass, that I might see my shadow. is iPod.

Patience, Elizabeth. Oh, Rivers. There's no doubt King Edward will soon recover his accustomed health. Take it badly, stepfather will get worse. Therefore, mother, entertain good comfort and cheer his grace with quick and merry eyes. If he were dead, what would become of me?

No other harm but loss of such a lord. The loss of such a lord includes all harms. The heavens have blessed you with a goodly son to be your comforter when he is gone. Ah, he is young and his future kingship is put under the trust of Richard. Gloucester, a man that loves not me nor none of you. Is it concluded he shall be protector? Oh, Rivers, it is not concluded yet, but so it must be if the king should perish.

Here come the lords Buckingham and Stanley. Good time of day unto your royal grace. God make your majesty joyful as you have been. Saw you the king today, my lord Stanley. Only now the Duke of Buckingham and I have come from visiting His Majesty. How likely is his recovery, lords? Madam, good hope. His grace speaks cheerfully. God grant him hell. Did you confer with him? Aye, madam.

He desires to repair the rift between Richard of Gloucester and your brothers, and between them and Lord William Hastings, and summon them to his royal presence. Would all were well, but that will never be. I fear our happiness is at its height. Mother beware! Richard approaches hence with our freshly freed false friend, Lord Hastings. They do me wrong and I will not endure it. Who is it that complains unto the king that I indeed am stern and love them not?

By saintly Paul, they but lightly love his grace that fill his ears with such contentious rumours. Because I cannot flatter and look fair, smile in men's faces, form, deceive and cheat, nod like... fake french followers seeking favor i must be held a poisonous enemy cannot a plain man live and think no harm without his simple truth being abused by silk-tongued sly and prattling louts

And to whom? My lord Richard speaks your grace. To thee, graceless Dorset, lord dishonest. When have I injured thee? when done thee wrong or thee or thee or any of your faction a plague upon you all his royal grace whom God preserved better than you would wish cannot be left in peace for even a breath without your troubling him with lewd complaints. Brother-in-law, you mistake the matter. I cannot tell. The world has grown so bad that we wrens take prey where eagles dare not perch.

Since every lout became a gentleman, there's many a gentle person made a lout. Come, come, we know your meaning, Brother Gloucester. You envy my rise and that of my friends. God grant we may never have need of you. Meantime, God grants that I have need of you. Our brother is imprisoned by your means, my self-disgraced and the nobility held in contempt.

While great promotions are daily given to mark as lords, those that scarce some two days since were worth a mark. By God, that raised me to this lofty height from that contented life which I enjoyed. I never did incense his majesty against the Duke of Clarence, but have been an earnest advocate to plead for him. My lord.

You do me shameful injury, painting me with false and vile suspicions. You may deny that you were the reason for my Lord Hastings' sanded prison and— She may, my Lord, for she never had an— She may, Lord Rivers! Why, who knows not so? She may do more, sir, than denying that. She may help you to many fair preferments and then deny her aiding hand therein and say those honours are highly deserved. What may she not?

She may holy Mary, may she? What marry may she? What marry may she? Marry with a king. My lord of Gloucester. I have too long borne your blunt rebukes and your bitter scoffs. By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty of those gross taunts that oft I have endured. I had rather be a country servant maid than a great queen that suffers such treatment, to be so baited, scorned, and stormed at. Small joy have I in being England's queen.

Lest the nothing be that small, God beseech you. Thy honor, state and throne is due to me, Margaret, widow of murdered king and prince. What? Threaten me with telling to the king. Tell him and spare not. Look what I have said. I will vouch for it in the king's presence. I dare take the risk to be sent to the tower. Tis time to speak. My efforts quite forgot. Oh, devil, I do remember them too well.

Thou killedst my husband Henry in the tower, and Edward, my poor son, at Trixbury. While you were queen, I owe your husband king. I was a pack horse in his great affairs. A weeder out of his proud adversaries, a liberal rewarder of his friends. To royalize his blood, I spent mine own. Aye, and much better thy blood than his. In all which time, you and your first husband stood...

steadfast with the house of Lancaster. And River, so were you. Was not your husband in Margaret's battle at St. Albans slain? Let me put it in your minds, lest you forget. what you once were and what you now are unlike what i have been and what i am a murderous villain and so still thou art poor clarence forsook his bride's father warwick aye and forswore his oath

May Jesus pardon. May God revenge. To fight on Edward's party for the crown. And for his payment, poor Lord, he's locked up. I wish to God my heart were flint like Edward's. Or Edward's. Soft and pitiful like mine. I am too childish foolish for this world. Hasten to hell for shame and leave this world, thou...

Cacodemon, there thy kingdom is. My lord of Gloucester, in those warring days which here you used to prove us enemies, we followed then our lord, our sovereign king. So should we? You, if you should be our king. I should be. I had rather be a peddler. Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof. As little joy, my lord, as you suppose you should enjoy, were you this country's king? Same little joy you may suppose in me that I enjoy being the queen thereof.

As little joy enjoys the queen thereof, for I am she and altogether joyless. I can no longer hold back my tongue. Hear me, you wrangling. pirates that now fight to share that which you pilfered from me. Which of you trembles not that looks on me? When I was queen, you bowed like subjects. Now that you deposed me, you quake like rebels.

Ah, noble villain, do not turn away. Ah, Queen Margaret, foul wrinkled witch, what conjured thou before me? But a litany of what thou hast marred, that will I make before I let thee go. Weren't thou not banished on pain of death? I was, but I do find more pain in banishment than death can yield me here by my abode. A husband and a son thou oath to me, and thou a kingdom.

All of you, allegiance, this sorrow that I have by right is yours, and all the pleasures you usurp are mine. The curse my noble father laid on thee. when thou mocked his warlike brows with paper crown and with thy scorn drew rivers from his eyes and then handed to dry them a cloak steeped in my brother rutland's blameless blood Our father's curses then from bitter loss pronounced against thee now are fallen upon thee, and God, not we, has plagued thy bloody deed.

So just is God to right the innocent. Oh, it was the foulest deed to slay that babe and the most merciless that air was heard of. Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. No man but prophesied revenge for it. Northumberland then present. wept to see it. What? Were you all snarling before I came, ready to catch each other by the throat and turn you all your hatred now on me?

did york's dread curse prevail so much with heaven that henry's death my lovely edward's death their kingdom's loss my woeful banishment should all but answer for that foolish brat rutland Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven? Why then give way dull clouds to my quick curses! Though not by war, by excess dire king, as ours by murder, to make him a king. Edward, thy son, that now is Prince of Wales, for Edward, our son, that was Prince of Wales, die in his youth.

by same untimely violence. Ha! Thyself a queen. For me that was a queen. Live thy glory like my wretched self. Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's death, and see another as I see thee now, decked in thy rights as thou art placed in mine. I, neither mother, wife, nor England's queen. Ha! Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by.

And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son was stabbed with bloody daggers. God, I pray that none of you may live his natural age, but are by some vile accident cut off. Have done thy charm, thou hateful withered hag, and leave thee out. Stay, dog. for thou shalt hear me. Ha! If heaven have any grievous plague in store, exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, oh, let them keep it till thy sins be right.

and then hurl down their indignation on thee the trouble of the poor world's peace the worm of conscience still gnaw at thy soul let no sleep close that deadly eye of thine unless it be while some tormenting dream frightens thee with a hell of ugly devils thou elvish-marked abortive rooting hog Thou that was branded by thy monstrous birth, the slave of nature and the son of hell, thou slander of thy heavy mother's womb, thou loath...

some issue of thy father's loins, thou rag of honour, thou detested... Margaret. Richard! Huh? I call thee not. I cry for mercy, then. For I did think that you had called me all those bitter names. Why, I saw I did. But look for no reply. Oh, let me place a period on my curse. Tis done by me and ends in Margaret. Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself. Poor painted queen.

fake flourish of my fortune why strew'st thou sugar in that swollen spider whose deadly web ensnareth thee in lies fool Fool, thou hones a knife to kill thyself. The day will come that thou shalt wish for me to help thee curse that poisonous hunchback toad. False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse. Lest you tem harm by trying our patience. Dispute not with her. She's a lunatic. Peace, Master Dorset. So impudent. Peace. Peace. For shame, if not for charity.

urge neither charity nor shame on me uncharitably with me have you dealt and shamefully my hopes by you are butchered My charity is outrage. Life, my shame. And in that shame still lives my sorrow's rage. Have done. Have done. Oh, princely Buckingham. i'll kiss thy hand in allegiance and amity with thee fortune befall thee and thy noble house thy garments are not spotted with our blood nor thou within the compass of my curse

Oh, Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog. Look, when he fawns, he bites. And when he bites, his venom teeth will fester to the death. have not to do with him. Beware of him. What does she say, my lord of Buckingham? Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. So... Dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel, and soothe the devil that I warn thee from? Oh, but remember this another day, when he shall split thy very heart with sorrow, and say poor Margaret was a prophetess.

live each of you the subjects of his hate and he to yours and all of you to God's My hair does stand on end to hear her curses. And so does mine. Why does she wander freely? I cannot blame her. By God's holy mother, she has had too much wrong. And I repent my part in all that I have done to her. I never did her any to my knowledge. Yet you have all the advantage she's lost. Indeed, as for Clarence, he is well repaid.

He is penned like a porker for his pains. God pardon them that are the cause thereof. A virtuous and Christian-like conclusion, to pray for them that have done harm to us. Had I prayed now, I'd have damned myself. Madam, his majesty does call for you, and for your grace, and yours, my gracious lords. Catesby, I come. Lords, will you go with me? We wait upon your grace. I do the mischief and now begin to brawl.

The secret wrongs that I set afoot I lay blame unto the faultless others. I do weep for so many simple fools. Clarence! who I indeed have cast in darkness. Also for Stanley, Hastings, Buckingham. And tell them tis the Queen and her allies that stir the King against the Duke, my brother. Now they believe it. and thereby thrust me into revenge on her brother and sons. But then I sigh, and with a piece of scripture, tell them that God bids us do good for evil.

Thus I clothe my naked villainy with odd old ends, stolen forth from holy words, and seem a saint when most I play the devil. But so, here come my executioners.

How now, my hardy, stout, resolvid mates? Are you now going to dispatch this thing? We are, my lord, and come to fetch the warrant that we may be admitted where he is. Very good thinking. I have it on my person. But sirs, be sudden in the execution. Therefore keep steadfast. Do not hear him plead, for Clarence is well spoken, and perhaps may move your hearts to pity if you heed him. Tut-tut, my lord. We will not stay to chat.

Talkers are not good doers. Be assured we go to use our hands and not our tongues. Your eyes drop millstones when fool's eyes drip tears. I like you, lads. Straight about your business. Go, go. Dispatch. We will, my noble Lord. Why looks your grace so heavily today?

As I am a faithful Christian man, I would not spend another such night, even to buy a world of happy days. So full of dismal terror was the time. What was your dream, my lord? It seemed that I had escaped from the tower, and was sailing across to Burgundy, and in my company my brother Gloucester, who from my cabin tented me to walk upon the ship's deck.

There we looked toward England and recalled a thousand trying times during the wars of York and Lancaster that had befallen us. As we paced along upon the dizzy planks of the deck, I thought that Gloucester stumbled, and in falling pushed me overboard when I thought to save him into the tumbling billows of the sea. What pain it was to drown. What dreadful noise of water in my ears. What sights of ugly death within my eyes. I thought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks.

A thousand men that fishest gnawed upon wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, inestimable stones, priceless jewels, all scattered at the bottom of the sea. Had you such leisure in la hora de morirte to gaze upon these secrets of the deep? I thought I had, and often did I strive to meet my ghost. But still, the spiteful sea stopped up my soul and would not set it free. Did you awaken this sore agony? No, no, my dream was lengthened after life.

Oh, entonces empezó la tempestad desde mi cuerpo hasta mi alma. I passed, I thought, the melancholy flood with that sour fairy man of whom poets write into the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick, who spoke. How many lashes for perjury can this dark monarchy land on False Clarence? And at once he vanished.

Came wandering by a shadow like an angel with bright hair Spattered with blood and he shrieked with vengeance Clarences come falls fleeting, perjured Clarence that stabbed me in the field of Tewkesbury. Seize on him, Furies! Take him into torment! I thought a legion of foul fiends encircled me and held in mine ears such hideous cries that with the very noise I, trembling... Wait And for forever after could not believe but that I I was in hell Such terrible impression made my dream

No marvel, Lord, that it frightened you. I am afraid just from hearing you tell it. Oh, Breckenberry, I have done these things. that now give evidence against my soul for Edward's sake, and see how he repays me. O God, if my deep prayers could not appease Thee, but Thou will be avenge on my misdeeds. May he execute thy wrath on me alone. Oh, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children. Amen. Keeper, I pray thee sit by me a while.

My soul is heavy, and I need to sleep. I will, my lord. God give your grace good rest. Sorrow wrecks all seasons and sleeping hours, makes the night morning and the noontide night. Princes have only titles for their glories, an outward honor for an inward toil. for empty honors imagined, not earned. They often feel a world of restless cares, that between the titled and the low-named, there's no difference but the outward fame.

Who's here? What do you want, and how came thou hither? I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. What, so brief? Tis better, sir, than to be tedious. Let him see our warrant and talk no more. I am in this commanded to deliver the noble Duke of Clarence to your hands. I will not question what is meant by this, so I share no guilt if I know not why. There lies the Duke asleep, and there the keys.

I'll to the king and signify to him that thus I have released to you my charge. You'll go, sir. That would be wise. Fare you well. Shall we stab him as he sleeps? No. He'll say t'was done by cowards when he wakes. Why, he shall never wake until Holy Judgment Day. Why, then he'll say we stabbed him sleeping.

The pressure of that word, judgment, has bred a kind of remorse in me. What? Aren't thou afraid? Not to kill him, having a warrant, but to be damned for killing him from which no warrant can defend me. I thought... Thou were resolute. So I am to let him live. I'll go back to the Duke of Gloucester and tell him so. No. I pray thee, wait a little.

I hope this forgiving mood of mine will change. It might only hold me for a count from 1 to 20. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 18, 19, 20! How dost I feel thyself now? In faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me. Remember, I will reward when the deed's done. Zunes, he dies! I have forgot the reward. Where's that conscience now? Oh, in the Duke of Gloucester's purse. When he opens his purse to give us our reward, that conscience flies out. Come.

Shall we get to work? Smash him on the noggin with the Hilded Eye blade, and then dunk him into the barrel of wine in the next row. Ah, excellent scheme. And make a sopping sweet Madeira cake of him. Strike! No, what reason? Where art thou, Brackenberry? Get me a cup of wine. You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. In the name of God. What are you? A man as you are.

But not as I am royal. Nor you as we are loyal. Oh, thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. My voice is now the king's, my looks my own. How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak! Your eyes do menace me. Why look you pale? Who sent you hither? Why then do you come? To... To us. To murder me? Aye. Aye. You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so, and therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. How then, my friends, have I offended you? Offended us, you have not.

But the king? I shall be reconciled to him again. Never, my lord. Therefore prepare to die. Before I'm convicted by course of law, to threaten me with death is most unlawful. The deed you undertake will damn you both. What we will do, we do upon command. And he that has commanded is our king. Erroneous vassals! El gran rey de reyes has in the table of his law commanded that thou shalt do no murder.

Will you then reject God's edict and fulfill a man's? Take heed, for he holds vengeance in his hand to hurl upon those heads that break his law. And that same vengeance does he hurl on thee. for false fidelity and murder too. Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight on the side of the House of Lancaster. And like a traitor to the name of God did break that vow, and with thy treacherous blade unripped the bowels of thy sovereign son. Whom thou wast sworn to cherish and defend.

How can thou urge God's dreadful law to us when thou hast broken to such dire extent? Dear God, for whose sake did I that ill deed? For Edward? For my brother? For his sake! He sends you not to murder me for this, for in that sin he is as deep as I. If you do love my brothers, hate not me. And find my dear younger brother Richard, who shall reward you better for my life than Edward will for tidings of my death. You are deceived. Your brother Gloucester hates you. Oh, no, no. He loves me.

and he holds me dear. Go you to him for me. Aye, so we will. Tell him that when our father, Duke of York, blessed his three sons with his victorious arm, and charged us from his soul to love each other, he little thought of this divided friendship. Bid Gloucester think on this, and he will weep. Aye, millstones were what he taught us to weep. Oh, do not slander him, for he is kind. Kind as snow at harvest? Come! You deceive yourself!

Tis he that sends us to destroy you here. It cannot be. He wept for my misfortune. and hugged me in his arms and swore with sobs that he would labor toward my release. Why so he does when he releases you from earthly prison to the joys of heaven. Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. Have you that holy feeling in your souls to counsel me to make my peace with God?

And are you yet so blind to your own souls that you will war with God by murdering me? O sirs, consider, they that urged you on to do this deed will hate you for the deed. What shall we do? Relent and save your souls. Relent? No! Tis cowardly and womanish. Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish. My friend, I spite some pity in thy looks. Oh, if thine eye does not show false mercy, come thou unto my side and plead for my life, a begging prince.

Beggars pity not. Look behind you, my lord. Take that. And this. If all this will not do, I'll drown you in the wine barrel yonder. A bloody deed, and desperately dispatched. Like Pontius Pilate, I'd well wash my hands of this unholy murder. So now? What do you mean by not helping me? By heavens, the Duke shall know how slack you have been. I wish he knew that I had saved his brother. Take thou the fee and tell him what I say, for I must repent that the Duke is slain.

Well, I will not. Go, coward, as thou art. I'll go hide the body in some hole until the Duke give order for his burial. I have my money. I will wait. If this will come out, I must not stay.

Noblemen, now here's a good day's work. You lords continue this United League. I every day expect a holy message from my Redeemer to redeem me, and more in peace shall my soul part to heaven, since I have made my friends at peace on earth. Hastings and Rivers, take each other's hand. Disguise not your hatred, but swear your love. By heaven, my soul is purged from grudging hate. And with my hand, I seal my true heart's love. So thrive I, as I truly swear the light.

Take heed to not act false before your king, lest he that is the supreme king of kings reveal your hidden falsehood. and ensure each one of you to be the other's end. So prosper I, as I swear perfect love. And I, as I love Hastings with my heart. You're wrong. Elizabeth, you're not exempt from this, nor you, son, Dorset. Buckingham, nor you. You have been factious one against the other. Why? Love Lord Hastings. Let him kiss your head. And what you do...

Do it without pretense. There, Hastings. I will nevermore remember our former hatred. So thrive I and mine. My queen. Dorset, embrace him. Hastings, love Lord Dorset. This interchange of love I hereby swear upon my part shall be unbreakable. And so swear I. Seal thou this league by embracing closely my wife's allies, making me happy in your unity.

If ever Buckingham does turn his hate upon your grace, although with duteous love I now do cherish you and yours, God punish me with hate from those whom I expect most love. When I have most need to employ a friend, And when most assured that he is a friend, deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile be he unto me. This do I beg of God when I am lacking love of you or yours.

A pleasing cordial princely Buckingham, is this thy vow unto my sickly heart? But missing now our brother Goster here to seal the blessed period of this peace. And just in time, here comes Sir Ratcliffe and the Duke. Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen. and princely peers. A happy time of day. Happy indeed as the day we have spent.

Gloucester, we have done deeds of charity, made peace of enmity, fair love of hate between these prideful wrong and ragged peers. A blessed labor, my most sovereign lord. Among this princely heap, if any here by false intelligence or wrong surmise hold me of foe, if I unwittingly or in my rage at any time committed what causes harm to those present here, I dearly desire to reconcile me to this friendly peace.

Tis death to me to be at enmity. I hate it and desire all good men's love. First, Madden, I entreat true peace of you, which I will purchase with my duteous service. Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, if ever any grudge were lodged between us. Of you and you, Lord Rivers, and of Dorset, that undeservedly have frowned on me. Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen, indeed of all. I do not know an Englishman alive.

with whom my soul is any jot at odds more than the infant that is born tonight. I thank my God for my humility. A holy day shall this be kept hereafter. I would to God all strifes were well resolved. My sovereign lord, I do beseech your highness to take our brother Clarence into your grace. I imagine. Have I offered love for this? To be so mocked in this royal presence? Who knows not that the gentle duke is dead? You do him injury to scorn his corpse!

Who knows not that he is dead? Who knows he is? Oh, seeing heaven, what a world is this? Is Clarence dead? the order was reversed but he poor man by your first order died and that a winged mercury did bear some tardy cripple could halt that command but came too late, so saw him buried. Who sold to me for him? Who in my wrath kneeled at my feet? and bid me be advised. Who spoke of brotherhood? Who spoke of love? Who told me how the poor soul did forsake the mighty Warwick and did fight for me?

Who told me in the field at Tewkesbury when Oxford had me down, he rescued me and said, Dear brother, live and be a king. Who told me when we both lay in the field frozen almost to death how he didn't wrap me in his own garments and didn't give himself all thin and naked to the numb cold. And I ate all this from my memory's brutal wrath sinfully plucked. And no man among you had so much grace to put it in my mind. Oh, God. Fear thy justice will take hold on me and you and mine and yours for this

Hastings, help me turn my chamber. I'll be Clarence. Buckingham, my lord. Radcliffe. My lord. These are the fruits of rashness. Marked you not how all the guilty kindred of the Queen looked pale on hearing of Clarence's death? No! They did urge it still upon the king. God will revenge it. Come, lords, will you go to comfort Edward with our company? We wait upon your grace.

You shall keep me from my wail and weep to chide my fortune and torment myself. Mother? Your Majesty. Mother. What means this scene of reckless rantings? Edward! My lord, thy son, our king, is dead. I have been wept. a worthy husband's death and lived with looking on his images but now two mirrors of his princely portrait are cracked in pieces by malignant death and i for comfort have but one False glass that grieves me when I see my shame in him.

thou art a widow yet thou art a mother and has the comfort of thy children left but death has snatched my husband from my arms and plucked two crutches from my feeble hands clarence and edward oh what cause have i thine being merely a half of my moan to overwhelm thy woes and drown thy cries oh for my husband For my dear Lord Edward. Alas, for both mine, Edward and Clarence! What strength had I but Edward? And he is gone. What strength said I, but they and they are gone.

Was never a widow had so dear a loss. Was never mother had so dear a loss. Alas, I am the mother of these griefs. Their woes are parceled. Mine is general. She for an Edward weeps, and so do I. I for a Clarence weep, but you do not. Comfort, dear mother. God is much displeased that you take what unthankfulness is doing. Sister, think more like a cautious grandmother. Think of your son, the young prince.

Send straight for him, let him be crowned. In him your comfort lives. Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave and plant your joys in living Edward's throne. Sister, have comfort. All of us have cause to wail the dimming of our shining star, but none can halt our harm by wailing them. Madam, my mother, I do beg your mercy. I did not see your grace. Humbly on my knee I crave your blessing. God bless thee, and put meekness in thy breast. Love, charity, obedience, and true duty. Amen.

That's a blessing from the bottom of a brother-filled barrel. Amen. I marvel that my mother did leave it out. You mournful princes and heartbroken peers that bear this heavy shared load of sorrow. 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 bitterness of your inflamed hates, but now bandaged. knit, and join together must gently be preserved, cherished, and kept.

Seems good to me that with some little pomp forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetched here now to London to be crowned our king. Why, with some little pomp, my lord of Buckingham? Indeed, my lord. lest by a multitude the new healed wound of malice should break out, which would be so much the more dangerous by how much the kingdom is green and yet ungoverned. Yet, since it is but green, it should be...

put to no apparent likelihood of breach, which by too much company might be urged. Therefore I say with noble Buckingham that it is right that few should fetch the prince. And so say I. Then be it so, and go we to determine who they shall be rides quickly straight to Ludlow. Madam and you, my sister, will you go to give your judgments in this business? With all our hearts. My lord. Whoever journeys to the prince, for God's sake, let us too not stay at home.

For on the way, I will find a moment as prelude to the story we last talked of to part the queen's proud kindred from the prince. My other self. my council's inner sanctum, my oracle, my prophet, my dear cousin. I, like a child, will go by your direction. Toward Ludlow, then, where we'll not stay behind.

Coming through. Coming through. Good morning, neighbor. What is your hurry? I promise you, I scarcely know myself. Oi! Hey, hey, hey. Hear you the news around. Is the news true of good King Edward's death? Aye, sir. It is too true. God help us all. Oh, God. Then, good sirs, look to see a troubled world. No, no, by God's good grace, his son shall reign! Woe to the land that's governed by a child! No, no, in him there is a hope of government.

So stood the state when Henri VI was crowned in Paris but at nine months old? Ha! Stood the state like so. No good friends. God knows. Then the king had virtuous uncles to protect his grace. Oh, yeah. Full of danger is the Duke of Gloucester. And the queen's kindred? So horde! Come, come, we fear the worst. All will be well. Untimely storms make men expect famine. All may be well, but if God makes it so...

Tis more than we deserve, or I expect. And truly, the hearts of men are full of fear. But leave it all to God. Last night, I hear, they stayed at Stoney Stratford, and at Northampton they do rest tonight. Tomorrow or next day they will be here. I long with all my heart to see the Prince. I hope he has much grown since last I saw him. Oh, but I hear no. They say my son of York has near overtaken him in his grove. Aye, mother, but I would not have it so. Why, my young cousin, it is good to grow.

Grandma, one night as we did sit at supper, my uncle Rivers talked how I did grow more than my brother. I, quotes my uncle Gloucester, small herbs of grace. Great weeds do grow apace. Since then, it seemed I would not grow so fast. because sweet flowers are slow and weeds may cast. Good faith, in fact, the saying did not hold for him that did opine the same to thee.

He was the most wretched thing when a babe took so long to grow and so painfully slow that if his rule were true, he should be gracious. Now, by my faith, I wish I had known that. I'd have ungraced my uncle with a jeer by teasing him more aptly than he me. How, my young York. I pray you, let me hear it. They say Uncle's teeth grew so weirdly fast that he could gnaw a crust at two hours old. Took two full years for I could get a tooth.

Mom, this would have been a biting test. Oh, mischievous boy. Beware, you are too shrewd. Good madam, be not angry with the child. Little pictures have large ears. Your Grace. What news? Such news as grieves me to report. How does the Prince? Well, madam, and in health? What is thy news? Lord Rivers and Lord Grey are sent to Palm Fred, prisoners. Who has committed them?

The mighty Dukes, Gloucester and Buckingham. For what offense? The sum of all I know I have disclosed. Why or for what the nobles were committed is all unknown to me, my gracious queen. Ay me. I see the ruin of my house. The tiger now has seized the gentle doe. Insulting tyranny begins to jut upon the innocent and youthful throne. Welcome, destruction. Blood and massacre. I see, as in a map, the end of all. Accursed and unquiet, quarreling days. How many of you have my eyes beheld?

My husband lost his life to get the crown, and often up and down my sons were tossed for me to joy and weep their gain and loss. And now, in with the throne, are conflicts clean blown over themselves the conquerors make war upon themselves brother to brother blood to blood self against self monstrous and frantic outrage End like damned ire, or let me die to look on earth no more. Come, come, my boy, we will to sanctuary. Madam. Farewell. Wait, I will go with you. You have no cause.

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Welcome, sweet prince to London and your throne. Welcome, dear cousin. King to all my thoughts. The weary way has made you melancholy. No, uncle, but our kin, jailed on the way, have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy. I want more uncles here to welcome me. Sweet Prince, the untainted virtue of your years has not yet dived into the world's deceit. Those uncles you wished for were dangerous.

Your grace attended to their sugared words, but looked not on the poison of their hearts. God keep you from them and from such false friends. God keep me from false friends, but they were none. God bless your grace with health and happy days. Oh my lord, the mayor of London comes to greet you. I thank you, good my lord, and thank you all.

I thought my mother and my brother York would by now have met us along the way. By what a slug is hastening. That he comes not to tell us whether they will come or no. Oh! And just in time, here comes the sweating lord. Welcome, my lord. When will our mother come? On what occasion? God, he knows, not I. The queen, your mother, and your brother have taken sanctuary.

The tender prince would have gladly come to greet you, your grace, but by his mother was by force withheld. Oh, fie, what devious and foolish course of hers is this? Lord Cardinal. Lord Buckingham. Will your grace persuade the Queen to send the Duke of York unto his princely brother presently? If she deny, Lord Hastings go with him and from her jealous arms pluck him by force. If my weak tongue pleading can from his mother win the Duke of York, expect him here at once.

But if she be deaf to mild entreaties, God, and heaven forbid we should defy the holy privilege of blessed sanctuary. Not for all this land. Would I be guilty of so deep a sin? You are too senseless obstinate, my lord. Too ceremonious and traditional. Weigh it, as worthy of these wanton times you break not sanctuary in seizing him. Then... Taking him from that that is not there? You break no privilege, no promise there. Often have I heard of sanctuary men, but sanctuary children?

Never till now. My lord, you did convince my mind for once. Come on, Lord Hastings. Will you go with me? I go, my lord. Good lords, make all the speedy haste you may. Say, Uncle Gloucester, if our brother come, where shall we remain till our coronation? Your Highness shall repose you at the Tower for your best health and recreation.

I do not like the tower of any place. Did Julius Caesar build that place, my lord? He did, my gracious lord, begin that place, which since succeeding ages have re-fortified. Is it upon record? or just repeated successively from age to age he built it. Upon record, my gracious lord. But say, my lord, ye were not written down. Methinks the truth should live from age to age.

as to repeat it to all posterity, even to final judgments all ending day. So wise, so young, they say, do never live long. What say you, uncle? I say, without record, fame lives long.

Now, just in time, here comes the Duke of York. Richard of York, how fair is our loving brother? Well, my mighty lord. Now must I call you. Ay, brother, it's our grief as it is yours. How fares our cousin, noble lord of York? Te agradezco, amable tío. Oh, my lord. You said that idle weeds are fast in growth. The prince, my brother, has outgrown me far. He has, my lord. And therefore, is he idle? Oh, my fair cousin, I must not say so!

Then he is more beholding to you than I. He may command me as my sovereign, but you have power in me as a kinsman. Te lo ruego, tío. Give me this dagger. What? Would you have my dagger, little lord? I would that I might thank you as you call me. How? LITTLE My lord of york is always cross and talk Uncle Your grace knows how to bear with him. You mean to bear me, not to bear with me. Ankle, my brother mocks both you and me.

Because that I am little like an ape, he thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders! Myself and my good cousin Buckingham will to your mother to entreat of her to meet you at the tower and welcome you. What? Will you go into the tower, my lord? Yes, my lord protector will have it so. No dormiré en paz en la torre. Why? What should you fear? El fantasma enojado de Tío Clarence. My grandma told me he was murdered there.

I fear no uncles dead. Nor none that live, I hope. And if they live, I hope I need not fear. But come, my lord, with a heavy heart thinking on them, go I unto the tower. Thank you, my lord, this little prattling York was not incensed by his scheming mother to taunt and scorn you thus abusively? He is all his mothers from the top to toe. Well...

Let them be. Come hither, Catesby. Thou art as deeply sworn to affect what we intend as closely conceal what we impart. Thou know our reasons, urged upon the way. What do you think? Is it not an easy matter to make William Lord Hastings meet her mind and praise installment of noble Richard in the seat royal of this famous isle?

He, for his father's sake, so loves the prince that he will not be swayed to side against him. What do you think then of Stanley? Will not he? He will do all in all as Hastings does. Well then, no more but this. Go, gentle Catesby, and from safe distance sound thou, Lord Hastings, how he is disposed to our purpose, and summon him tomorrow to the tower to there discuss the coronation. If thou dost find him amenable to us, encourage him, and tell him all our reasons, if he be leaden. I see.

Cold, unwilling, be thou so too, and so break off the talk and give us notice of his inclination. Commend me to Lord Hastings. Tell him, Catesby. His ancient knot of dangerous adversaries tomorrow will let blood at Pomfret Castle. And bid, my lord, for joy of this good news. Good Catesby, go. Affect this business soundly. My good lords both, with all the care I can.

Now, my lord, what shall we do if we perceive Hastings will not yield to our exploits? Chop off his head. Something we will determine. And look, when I am king... I will give thee the earldom of Hereford and all movable things whereof the king my brother was possessed. Oh, I'll claim that promise at your grace's hand. and look to have it given with all kindness. Come, let us sup soon, so that afterwards we may duly digest our plans with care.

Hastings, my lord! One from Lord Stanley. What is the time? Upon the stroke of four. Get the fuck out of the way. Cannot my Lord Stanley sleep these tangled nights. So it appears by that I have to say. First, he sends greeting to your noble self. What then? Then so swears your Lordship that this night he...

dreamt the boar had ripped off his head. As for his dreams, I wonder he's so simple to trust the mockery of unquiet slumbers. To flee the boar before the boar pursues is to incense the boar to follow us. and make pursuit where he did mean no chase. Go, bid thy master rise and come to me, and we will go together to the tower, where he'll see Richard the Boar treat us kindly. I'll go, my lord, and tell him what you say.

Muy buenos días, mi noble señor Hastings. Good morrow, Catesby. You are early stirring. What news, what news in this, our tottering state? It is a reeling world indeed, my lord. and I believe will never stand upright till Richard wear the garland of the realm. How? Wear the garland? Does thou mean the crown? Si, mi noble señor.

I'll have this crown of mine cut from my shoulders before I see that crown so foul misplaced. But art thou sure that he does aim at it? Aye, on my life, and hopes to find your favor upon his party for the game thereof. And thereupon he sends you this good news, that this same very day your enemies, the kindred of the queen, must die at Pomfret. Indeed, I am no mourner for that news, because they have always been my enemies.

But that I'll give my voice on Richard's side to Bar King Edward's heirs in true descent, God knows I will not even mean a death. Que Dios cuide su mente agraciada. But I shall laugh at this a year from now, as I live to look on the tragedy of those who made me suffer Edward's hate. Well, Catesby, for Fortnite make me older. I'll send some packing that yet think not on't.

It is a vile thing to die, my gracious lord, when men are unprepared and look not for it. Oh, monstrous, monstrous. And so it befell rivers, and those that think themselves as safe as thou and I, who, as thou know, are dear to princely richard and to buckingham the princes both make high account of you for their account is chopped head on a pole i know they do and i have well deserved it Come, Lord Stanley. Acey, good morrow. Good morrow, K.P. Where is your boar spearman?

Fear you, Richard, and go so unprepared. You may jest on, but by the Holy Cross, I do not like how quickly Richard moves. My lord, I hold my life as dear as you do yours, and never in my days I do proclaim was it so precious to me as tis now. Thank you, but that I know our state's secure, I would be as triumphant as I am.

The lords at Pomfret, when they rode from London, were jolly and supposed their states were sure. And they indeed had no cause to mistrust, but yet you see how soon the day turned dark. This sudden stab of malice I must fear. Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward. What? Shall we tour the tower? The day's begun. Come, come, I'll join you. Know you what, my lord?

Today's the Queen's Kindred will be dispatched. They, for their truth, might better keep their heads than some that have accused them keep their hats. What? Go you toward the tower, Buckingham? I do, my lord, but long I cannot stay there. I shall return before your lordship does. Nay, like enough, for I stay dinner there. And supper too, although thou knows it not. Come, will you go? At your pleasure, my lord.

Sir Richard Ratcliffe, let me tell thee this. Today shalt thou behold a subject die for truth, for duty, and for loyalty. Rivers, the limit of your life is out. Quickly. Oh, Pomfret! Pomfret, oh, thou bloody prison! Fatal and ominous to noble peers! Now Margaret's curse has fallen upon our heads! When she condemned us, Hastings, Gray, and I for standing by when Richard stabbed her son.

Be satisfied, dear God, with my true blood and spare my sister and her princely son. The hour of death will you atone.

My Lords Buckingham and Stanley. Lord Hastings. And Bishop of Ely. Yes, yes, yes. Now, noble peers. The cause why we are met is to arrange for the coronation. In God's name, speak! When is the royal day? Uh, is all things ready for the royal time? It is, in wants but nomination, my lord bishop. Tomorrow, then, I judge a happy day.

Who knows the Lord Protector's mind herein? Who's intimate with the noble duke? Your grace, we think, should soonest know his mind. We know each other's faces, but our hearts... He knows no more of mine than I of yours. Lord Hastings, you and he are near in love. I thank his grace. I know he loves me well. But for his purpose in the coronation...

I have not sounded him, nor he delivered his gracious pleasure any way therein. But you, my honorable lords, may name the time, and in the Duke's behalf, I'll give my voice, which I presume he'll take graciously. And just in time, here comes the duke himself. My noble lords and cousins all, good morrow. I have been so long asleep. but I trust my absence does neglect no great design which by my presence might have been concluded.

Had you not come upon your queue, my lord, William Lord Hastings had pronounced your part. I mean your voice for crowning of the king. And my Lord Hastings, no man might be bolder. His lordship knows me well and loves me well. My lord of Ely, when I was last in Holborn, I saw good strawberries in your garden there. I do beseech you, send for some of them. Yes, indeed I will, my lord, with all my heart. Cousin of Buckingham, a word with you.

I sounded Hastings in our business and finds the testy gentleman so hot that he will lose his head before letting his master's child, as worshipfully he terms it, so lose the royalty of England's throne. Withdraw yourself a while. I'll go with you. We have not yet set down this day of triumph. Tomorrow in my judgment is too sudden, for I myself am not so well provided as else I would be were the day prolonged. Where is my lord, the Duke of Gloucester? I have sent for those strawberries.

His grace looks so cheerful and smooth this morning. There's some fancier other likes him well when that he bids good morrow with such a spirit. I think there's never a man in Christendom can lesser hide his love. or hate than he, for by his face straight shall you know his heart. What of his heart perceive you in his face by any livelihood he showed today? Mark me that with no man here he is offended. But were he?

He had shown it in his looks. I pray you all tell me what they deserve that do conspire my death with devilish plots of damned witchcraft. and that have prevailed upon my body with their hellish charms. The tender love I bear your grace, my lord, makes me most forward in this princely presence to doom the offenders whoso'er they be. I say, my lord, they have deserved death. Then be your eyes the witness of her evil. Look how I am bewitched! Behold!

mine arm is like a blasted sackling withered up and this is edward's wife that monstrous witch that by her witchcraft thus has marked me if she has done this deed my noble lord if then Thou protector of this damned strumpet! Talk thou to me of ifs! Thou art a traitor! Off for this head! Now by St. Paul, I swear I will not dine until I see the same. Ratcliffe? Yes, my lord? Arrest him. Look, let it be done. Yes, at once. Buckingham, with me. Ratcliffe, my dinner waits!

Oh, oh, for England, not a whit for me, for I, a fool, might have prevented this. Stanley dreamt the boar did rip his head, but I did scorn it and refused to flee. Three times today my richly clad steed stumbled and started when he looked upon the tower as loathed to bear me to the slaughterhouse. Margaret, now thy heavy curse is landed on poor Hastings' wretched head. Men, rápido, Hastings. The Duke should be at dinner. Confesa. Desea ver tu cabeza cortada antes de cenar esta noche, bro. Ugh!

Oh, momentary grace of mortal men, which we more hunt for than the grace of God. Come, come, apurate. Tis pointless to delay. Bloody Richard. Miserable England, I prophecy the fearful most time to thee that ever wretched age has looked upon. Come, lead me to the block. Bear him my head. They smile at me that shortly shall be dead. Dude.

cousin. Can thou quake, make pale thy colour, murder thy breath in middle of a word, and then again begin, and stop again? as if thou were distraught and mad with terror. Oh, Tut, I can imitate the deep tragedian. Speak and look back and... Cry on every side, tremble, and stop at a finger-wagging, pretending deep suspicion. Ghastly looks are at my service, like enforced smiles, and both already waiting to be used at any...

time to grace my strategies. Oh, but what? Is Catesby gone? Dear Grazes, here I come with the Lord Mayor as commanded. I am come, my graces, at your service. Lord Mayor, look to the drawbridge there. Hear that? A drum! Catesby, look over the walls! Lord Mayor, the reason we have sent for you... Look back! Defend thee, hear our enemies! Oh God, in our innocence, defend and guard us!

Be patient. Ratcliffe is a friend. Here is the head of that ignoble traitor, the dangerous and duplicitous Hastings. Bless Hastings and his bloody head! So dear, I loved the man. I must leave. I took him for an honest, harmless creature. that breathed upon the earth a Christian. So smooth, he plastered his vice with show of virtue. Well, well, he was the most covert hidden traitor that ever lived.

Would you imagine, or almost believe, were it not that by divine protection we lived to tell it that the sneaky traitor this day had plotted in the council house to murder me and my good lord of Gloucester? Did he so? What? Think you we are Turks or infidels? The Peace of England and our personal safety forced us into this execution. Now, blessings on you.

He deserved his death and your good graces both. By this, have done well to warn false traitors from the like attempts. Had we not fast determined he should die before your lordship came to see his end, my lord... you yourself would have heard the traitor speak and timorously confess the manner and the purpose of his treasons, then you might well have clarified the same unto the citizens, who perhaps may...

misconstrue our actions and wail his death. But, my good lord, your grace's words shall serve as well as I had seen and heard him speak. And do not doubt right noble princes both. But I'll acquaint our duteous citizens with all your just proceedings in this cause. And to that end, we wished your lordship here, to void the doubters of this dismal world. And so, my good lord mayor... We bid farewell. Farewell. Bye-bye. Go after. Follow Cousin Buckingham.

The mayor towards Guildhall hurries hastily there at your most apt and opportune time. Alleg the bastardy of Edward's children. Then... assert his most hateful, licentious and bestial appetites in ways of lust, which stretched unto their servants, daughters, wives, everywhere his raging eye or savage heart, without control, lusted. to take his prey. If that is not enough to convince them, tell them that when my mother was with child for that insatiable Edward, noble York, my princely father,

then had wars in France, and by true computation of the time, found that this infant was not his begot, which well appeared in his lineaments, being nothing like the noble Duke, my father. Yet. touch this sparingly with far off hints because my lord you know my mother lives doubt not my lord i'll play the orator as if the golden fee for which i plead were for myself but and so my lord

If you thrive well, bring them to Baynard's castle. I go, and towards three or four o'clock, look for the news that the Guildhall provides. And to command that no manor of person have at any time access to the princes.

Please record your message. Here is the indictment of the good Lord Hastings. Eleven hours, this Scrivener, it took to write. But yet, five hours ago, Hastings lived, untainted, unexamined, free, at liberty. Who's so dense that cannot see this palpable device? Yet who so dares to say he sees it not? Bad is the world, and all will come to naught when such ill-dealing must be only thought. And now, stay tuned for Tim and the Gang on Maximum Rock and Roll. How now? How now? What say the citizens?

Now by the Holy Mother of our Lord, the citizens are mum. Say not a word. Touched you the bastardy of Edward's children? Aye. his betrothal to Lady Lucy, his betrothal made by Warwick in France, the insatiable greediness of his desire and his, uh, lewd forcing of the city wives... His tyranny for trifles, his own bastardy, begotten when your father was in France, and his resemblance being not like the Duke, indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose untouched or slightly handled in discourse.

And when mine oratory drew toward end, I bid them that did love their country's good cry, God save Richard, England's royal king! And did they so? No! So God help me, they spoke not a word. But like dumb statues or breathing stones, stared each on t'other and looked deadly pale. What tongueless blocks were they? Would they not speak? Will not the mayor then and his brethren come? The mayor is here at hand. Pretend some fear.

Well, do not so speak unless urge strong to it and, look you, get a prayer book in your hand. and stand between two churchmen, good my lord, for on that ground I'll make a holy hymn, and be not easily won to their requests. Play the maid's part. Answer nay. then take it anyway. K-R-I-I, that is The Betrayed with We Are Not Safe. Coming up, we have our guest in the studio, Richard III, after this. I go.

And if you plead as well for them as I can say nay to thee for myself, no doubt we bring it to a happy ending. Go, up to the balcony, the mayor knocks.

Oh Welcome my lord. I await to serve here. I think the Duke will not be spoken with. My lord. Now, Catesby, what says your lord to my request? He does entreat your grace, my noble lord, to visit him tomorrow or next day. He is inside with two right reverent fathers divinely inclined to meditation. and in no worldly pursuits would be moved to draw away from this most holy exercise. Return, good Catesby, to the gracious Duke. Tell him myself...

The mayor and alderman are come to have some conference with his grace. Aha, my lord. This prince is not an Edward. He's not lolling on a lewd love bed, but on his knees at meditation. Not dallying with a brace of courtesans, but meditating with two deep divines. Not sleeping to engross his idle body, but praying to enrich his watchful soul. Happy were England would this virtuous prince take on his grace the sovereignty thereof.

But I fear we shall not win him to the crown. Indeed, God forbid his grace should refuse us. I fear he will. Here Catesby comes again. Now, Catesby. My lord. What says his grace? He wonders to what end you have assembled such troops of citizens to come to him, his grace not being warned thereof before. He fears, my lord, you mean no good to him? By heaven! We come to him in perfect love, and so once more return and tell his grace.

When holy and devout religious men pray at their beads, tis hard to draw them then, so sweet is their zealous contemplation. This is KRII, we're here with the man of the hour, Richard III. No, no, don't focus on me. Please just play. See where his grace stands? Tween two clergymen. Two props of virtue for a Christian prince to keep him from the fall of vanity. And see, a book of...

Prayer in his hand. True ornaments to prove a holy man. Alright, I see a caller here. Caller, you're on the air. Famous Plantagenet. Most gracious prince, lend favorable ear to our requests, and pardon us the interruption of thy devotion and true Christian zeal. My lord, there needs no such apology. I do beseech your grace to pardon me, who, earnest in the service of my God, deferred the visitation of my friends.

What is your grace's pleasure? Even that, I hope, which pleases God above and all good men of this ungoverned isle. I do suspect I have done some offense that seems disgraceful in the city's eye.

And you come to condemn my ignorance. Oh, no, then. It's your fault that you relinquish the supreme seat. The throne majestical. We... hardly solicit your gracious self to take on you the charge and kingly government of this your land not as protector steward substitute or lowly factor for another's gain but as successively, from blood to blood, your right of birth, your dominion, your own.

I cannot tell if to depart in silence or bitterly to speak in your reproof best fits my status or your condition. Definitively thus I answer you. Your love deserves my thanks. But undeserved am I who merits not your high request. First, if all obstacles were cut away, and that my path was smoothly to the crown as the ripe revenue and due of birth,

Yet so much is my poverty of spirit, so mighty and so many my defects, that I would rather hide me from my greatness. The royal tree has left us royal fruit.

On him I lay, that you would lay on me. The right and fortune of his happy stars, which God forbid that I should wring from him. You say Prince Edward's your brother's son. So say we too, but... by no noble wife poor elizabeth a care crazed mother to many a son beauty-waiting and distressed widow in the afternoon of her life's middle days made price and purchase with his wanton eye by her in this low-born and begot this Edward, whom our manners call the Prince.

Your brother's son shall never reign our king. Never. But we will plant some other in the throne to the disgrace and downfall of your house. And in this resolution, here we leave you. Come, citizens, soons. I'll entreat no more. I am unfit for state and majesty. I do beseech you, take it not amiss. I cannot nor I will not yield to you. Llámelo otra vez, mi príncipe. Diga que aceptas oferta. If you deny them, all the land will ruin.

Will you enforce me to a world of cares? Call them again. I am not made of stone. called you my lord cousin of buckingham and sage grave men since you will buckle fortune on my back to bear her burden whether i will or no I must have patience to endure the load. but if black scandal or foul-faced reproach ruin the outcome of your imposition your mere enforcement shall thus acquit me from all the impure blots and stains thereof

For God does know, and you may partly see, how far I am from the desire of this. Yes. Bless your grace. We see it and will say it. In saying so, you shall but say the truth. Then I salute you with this royal title. Long live King Richard, England's worthy king! Amen! Tomorrow may it please you to be crowned. Even when you please, for you will have it so. Tomorrow, then, we will attend your grace, and so most joyfully we take our leave. Come.

Let us do our holy work again. Farewell, my cousin. Farewell, you dear listeners.

Anne, well met. God, give your graces both a happy and joyful time of day, and one to you also, nephew Dorset. Anne, well met. Well met. As much to you, good sister. Where do you go? No farther than the tower here, as I guest upon the same devotion as yourselves, to greet and welcome the gentle princes there. Kind sister, thanks. We'll enter all together.

And just in time here, Brackenberry comes. Master Lieutenant, pray you, if I may, how does the prince and my young son of York? Right well, Madam Queen. By your patience, I may not allow you to visit them. The king strictly ordered the contrary. The king? Who's that? I mean the Lord Protector. The Lord protect him from that kingly title. Has he set bounds between their love and me? I am their mother. Who shall bar me from them? I am their father's mother. I will see them.

Their aunt am I in law, in love, their mother. So bring me to their sights. I'll bear the blame. No, madam, no! I may not leave it so. I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.

Let me meet you ladies in one hour, and I'll salute your grace of York as mother and reverend looker-on of two fair queens. Come, Lady Anne, you must straight to Westminster, there to be crowned Richard's royal queen. Cut my bodice open that my caged heart may have some space to beat or else I swoon with this dead killing news. Be of good cheer, Mother. Please have comfort. Oh, 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 outrun death, go. Cross the seas and live with rich men from the reach of hell. Go, fly thee, fly thee from this slaughterhouse, lest thou increase the number of the dead and make me die, a slave to Margaret's curse, not mother.

wife nor England's affirmed queen. Full of wise cares this consul, madam. You take all the swift advantage of the hours. My letters to my son-in-law, Richmond, on your behalf, will meet you on the way. Be not turned tardy by unwise delay. Ill-dispersing wind of misery, O my accursed womb, the bed of death, Satan's spawn has thou hatched unto the world, whose unavoidable stare is murderous. Come, madam, come. I in all haste was sent. And I with all unwillingness will go. Oh.

Would to God that the encircling edge 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, for men can say God save the Queen. Go, go, poor soul. I envy not thy glory. To indulge me, wish on yourself no harm. No? Why? When he that is my husband now came to me as I followed Henry's corpse, this was my wish. Be thou, quotes I, accursed for making me so young, so long a widow.

And when thou wedst, let sorrow haunt thy bed, and make thy wife, if any be so mad, more miserable by the life with thee than thou hast made me by my dear Lord's death. Lo! For I can repeat this curse again. Within so small a time, my woman's heart grossly grew captive to his honeyed words and proved the subject of mine own soul's curse.

which until now have held mine eyes from rest. For not even one hour in his bed did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep, but with his fearful nightmares was often woke. Besides, He hates me for my father Warwick, and will no doubt shortly be rid of me. Oh, poor heart, adieu. Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory. Adieu, poor soul that takes thy leave of it. Go, Dorset, to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee. Go, Anne, to Richard, and good angels tend thee. Go, Queen, to sanctuary.

and good thoughts possess thee. I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me. Eighty odd years of sorrow did I bear. and each hour's joy wrecked with a week's despair. Wait, yet look back with me unto the tower. Pity, you ancient stones! those tender babes whom envy has entombed within your walls rough cradle for such little pretty ones road ragged nurse old sullen playfellow pretend Use my babies well. So, foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell.

Stand all aside. Cousin of Buckingham, my gracious sovereign, give me thy hand. Thus high. By thy advice and thy assistance is King Richard Seated. Shall we wear these glories for a day, or shall they last, and we rejoice in them? Still live they, and forever let them last. Shocking them. Now I declare touch them to test if thou be proven gold to me. Young Edward lives. Think now what I would speak. Say on, my loving maid. Why, Buckingham, I say I would be king. Why, so you are, my...

thrice-renowned liege. Ha! Am I king? When young Edward still lives? True noble prince. No bitter consequence that Edward still should live, true noble prince. Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dense. Shall I be clean? I wish the bastard's dead. and I would have it speedily performed. What say'st thou now? Speak speedily, be brief. Your grace may do whatever pleases you. Tot, tot. Thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes. Say.

Have I thy consent that they shall die? Give me some space to breathe, some pause, dear lord, before I definitely speak on this. I will answer your question presently. The king is hungry, see? He gnaws his lid. That vicious bucket grows too watchful. Boy!

My lord. Knost thou not any whom corrupting gold will tempt into a covert deed of death? I know a discontented gentleman whose humble means match not his haughty spirit. Gold were as good as twenty orders, and will no doubt tempt him to anything. What is his name? His name, my lord, is Tyrol. I think I know the man. Go, call him to me, boy. Yes, my lord. That shifty thinker, crafty Buckingham. No more shall be the close aid to my counsels. As he so long ran beside me, untired.

And stops he now for breath? Well, be it so. How now? Lord Stanley, what's the news? You know, my loving Lord, that the Lord Dorset, as I hear, has fled to join Richmond and France, where he resides. Come hither. Catch me. My Lord. Rumour it abroad that Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick. I will give orders to keep her hidden. Ha! Look how thou dreams! I say again, spread

word that Anne my queen is sick and like to die. Go do it, for it means much to my plans to crush all hopes whose growth may damage me. Yes, my lord. I must wed my brother Edward's daughter, or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass. Murder the princes and marry the princess. Unholy way to prosper, but I am so steeped in blood. that sin will clock out sin. Teardropping mercy dwells not in this eye.

Is thy name Tyrrell? James Tyrrell, and your most obedient subject. Art thou indeed? Try me, my gracious lord. Dare thou commit to kill a friend of mine? Please you, but I had rather kill two enemies. Why then thou has it? Two deep enemies, foes to my rest and my sweet sleep's disturbers, are they that I would have thee deal upon.

Tyrrell, I mean those bastards in the tower. Let me have open means to come to them, and soon I'll rid you from the threat of them. Thou sing sweet music. Do come closer, Tyrrell. There is no more, just to say it is done, and I will love thee and reward thee for it. I will dispatch them straight away.

My lord, I have considered in my mind the last request that you did sound me on. Well, let that rest. Dorset has fled to Richmond. I heard the news, my lord. Stanley, Richmond is your wife's son. Look to it. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise, for which your honor and your faith is pledged.

The earldom of Hereford and the old earl's goods, which you have promised I shall possess. Stanley, look to your wife. If she convey letters to Richmond, you'll answer for it. Yes, my lord. What says your highness to my just request? Do remember me, Henry VI. Did prophesy that Richmond should be king when Richmond was a little peevish boy? A king, perhaps? What chance the prophet could not at that time have told me, I being near, that I should kill him? My lord, your promise for the earldom...

Richmond! When last I was at Exeter, the mayor in courtesy showed me the castle and called it Rougemont. At which name I startled, because a bard of Ireland told me once I should not live long after I saw rich... My lord! I? What's the o'clock? I am thus bold to put your grace in mind of what you promised me. Well... But what's a clock? Almost a stroke of ten. Well, let it strike. Why let it strike? Because like a clock's hand, thou keepst striking between thy begging and my meditation.

I am not in the giving vein today. Well, may it please you to answer me my claim. Thou troubles me. I am not in the vein. And is it thus? Repays he my deep service with such contempt? Made I him king for this? Let me think on the Hastings and be gone to Breknock while my fearful head's still on.

Si, estoy manchado para siempre. The tyrannous and bloody act is done. The most arch deed of piteous massacre that ever yet this land was guilty of. 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. But, oh... By the devil, I smothered them. This most resplendent sweet work of nature, I could not speak. And so I left them both to bear these tidings to the bloody king.

Kind Tyrell, am I happy in thy news? If to have done the thing you ordered done beget your happiness, be happy then. Ya está hecho. But did thou see them dead? Los vi, señor. And buried, gentle Cyril. The chaplain of the tower has buried them. Pero la verdad es que no lo sé. Come to me, Tyrell, soon at meal's sweet end, when thou shalt tell the full tale of their death. Meantime, just think how I may do thee good and be inheritor of thy desire. Farewell till then. I humbly take my leave.

The son of Clarence have I caged up close. His daughter, meanly, have I matched in marriage. The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom. My wife has bid this world good night. Now I know that Breton Richmond also aims at my niece Elizabeth, Edward's daughter. And by that knot looks too close on the crown. To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer. Mi señor! Good or bad news that thou comes in so bluntly.

Sad news! The bishop has fled to Richmond and Buckingham backed with the Hardy Welshman is on the march and still his power increases! The bishop with Richmond troubles me more than Buckingham and his Welsh levied strength. Go, muster men. My counsel is my shield. We must be brief. When traitors brave the field! I go, my lord!

So now prosperity begins to mellow and drop into the rotten mouth of death. Here in these confines, slyly have I lurked to watch the waning of mine enemies. A dire introduction do I witness. Now back to France, hoping the consequence will prove as bitter, black, and tragical. Withdraw thee, Richard Margaret. Who comes here? Oh, my poor princess. oh my tender babes my unbloomed flowers new appearing sweets if yet your gentle souls fly in the air and be not fixed in doom perpetual

Hover about me with your airy wings and hear your mother's lamentation. Hover about her. Say that right for right has dimmed your infant mourn to aged night. So many miseries have cracked my voice that my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute. Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs and throw them in the entrails of the wolf? Since when did thou sleep when such a deed was done? When Holy Henry died, and my sweet son. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal living ghost.

rest thy unrest on England's lawful earths, unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood, that thou wouldest soon afford a grave. As thou can yield a melancholy seat, there would I hide my bones, not rest them here. Who has any cause to mourn but we? If ancient sorrow be most revered, give mine the benefit of seniority and let my griefs frown with an upper hand.

If sorrow can exist with company, tell over your woes again by viewing mine. I had an Edward. Dilla Richard killed him. I had a husband. Dilla Richard killed him. Thou hadst an Edward till a Richard killed him. Thou hadst a Richard till a Richard killed him. I had a Richard too, and thou did kill him.

I had a Rutland, too. Thou helped to kill him. Thou hadst a Clarence, too, and Richard killed him. From forth the kennel of thy womb had crept a hellhound that doth hunt us all to death. That dog... that had his teeth before his eyes, thy womb let loose to chase us to our graves. O upright, just and true disposing God, how do I thank thee that this carnal cur prays on the womb's fruit of his mother's body and makes her pew fellow with others' cries?

O Henry's wife, triumph not in my woes. God witness with me, I have wept for thine. Bear with me. I am hungry for revenge, and now I gorge myself beholding it. Thy Edward, he is dead, that killed my Edward. Young York, he is but added because both they match not the high perfection of my loss. Thy Clarence, he is dead, that stabbed my Edward.

and the beholders of this frantic play the adulterous hastings and rivers untimely smothered in their dusky graves richard yet lives hell's black intelligencer kept alive to play hell's agent and buy souls Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, that I may live to save the dog is dead. Oh, thou did prophesy the time would come that I should wish for thee to help me curse that loathsome spider.

That foul, hunchbacked toad. I call thee then fake flourish of my fortune. I call thee then poor shadow-painted queen. A mother only mocked with two fair babes, a queen in jest, only to fit the scene. Where is thy husband now? Where be thy brothers? Where be thy two sons? What now dost thou joy? Who soothes and kneels and says, God save the queen? Where be the bending peers that flattered thee?

Where be the thronging troops that followed thee? Recite all this and see what now thou art. For happy wife, a most distressed widow. For joyful mother, one that wails the name. For one being sued to, one that humbly sues. For queen, a piteous wretch crowned with care. For she that scorned at me now scorned by me. For she being feared by all now fearing one. For she commanding all obeyed by none. Thou didst usurp my place.

And dost thou not usurp the just proportion of my sorrow? Now thy proud neck bears half my burdened yoke, from which Even here I slip my wearied head and leave the burden of it all on thee. Farewell, York's wife and queen of sad mischance. These English woes shall make me smile in France. O thou, well-skilled in curses, stay a while and teach me how to curse mine enemies.

Forsake to sleep the night and fast the day. Compare dead happiness with living woe. Think that thy babes were sweeter than they were. and he that slew them fouler than he is. Bettering thy loss makes that bad causer worse. Pondering this will teach thee how to curse. My words are dull, O sharpen them with thine. Thy woes will make them sharp to pierce like mine.

Why is calamity born full of words? Let words break free. Though what they will impart help nothing else yet, do they ease the heart? If so, then be not tongue-tied. Go with me, and in the breath of bitter words let smother my damned son that did smother thy two sweet sons.

Oh! Who intercepts me in my expedition? She that might have intercepted thee by strangling thee in her... cursed womb from all the slaughters wretch that thou has done. Hides thou that forehead with a golden crown where should be branded, if right were but right, the slaughter of the prince that owned that crown? and the dire death of my poor sons and brothers? Tell me, thou villain slave, where are my children? Thou toad!

Thou toad, where is thy brother Clarence? Where are the gentle rivers and young grey? Where is kind Hastings? Go strike the alarm! Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I say! Either be patient and treat me fairly, or with the clamorous clatter of war, thus will I drown your exclamations. Art thou my son? Aye, I thank God, my father, and yourself.

Then patiently hear my impatience. Madam, I have a touch of your condition that cannot endure the sound of rebuke. Oh, let me speak. Do then, that I'll not hear. I will be mild and gentle in my words. And brief, good mother, for I am in haste. Art thou so hasty? I have stayed for thee, God knows, in torment and in agony. And came I not at last to come for you?

No, by the holy cross, thou knows it well. Thou came on earth to make the earth my hell. The grievous burden was thy birth to me. Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy. Thy school days frightful, violent, wild, and furious. Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous. Thy present age proud, subtle, sly, and bloody. More calm, but yet more harmful.

kind in hatred what comfortable hour can thou name that ever graced me with thy company if i be so disgusting in your eye let me march on and not offend you madam Strike up the drum. I pray thee, hear me speak! You speak too bitterly. Hear me a word, for I shall never speak to thee again. So. Either thou wilt die by God's just ordinance, ere from this war return a conqueror, or I with grief and extreme aid shall perish, and never more behold thy face again.

Therefore take with thee my most grievous curse, which in the day of battle tire thee more than all the complete armor that thou wears. My prayers on the opposing sides fight, and there the little souls of Edward's children whisper to the ghosts of thine enemies and promise them success and victory. Bloody thou art. Bloody will be thy end. Shame serves thy life, and does thy death attend. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse abides in me, I say.

Amen to her. Stay. Madam, I must have a word with you. I have no more sons of the royal blood for thee to slaughter. For my daughters, Richard, they shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens, and therefore level not to wreck their lives. You have a daughter called Elizabeth, virtuous and fair, royal and gracious. And must she die for this? Oh, let her live, and I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty.

Slander myself as false to Edward's bed. Throw over her the veil of infamy. So she may live unscarred of bleeding slaughter, I will confess she was not Edward's daughter. Breach not her birth. She is a royal princess. To save her life, I'll say she is not so. Her life is safest only in her birth. And only in that safety died her brothers. You speak as if I had slain my cousins. Cousins, indeed. And by their uncle-cousined of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.

My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys till that my nails were anchored in thine eyes. Madam. If I thrive in my enterprise and achieve success with this bloody war, then I intend more good to you and yours than ever you and yours by me were harmed. Good is covered by the face of heaven yet to be uncovered. Can do me good. The advancement of your children, gentle lady. Up to some scaffold?

dare to lose their heads. Even all I have, I, and myself and all, will I withal endow a child of thine if in the lethe river of forgetting thou drown thy angry soul in underworld's water. washing off sad remembrance of those wrongs which thou supposes I have done to thee. Be brief, lest the telling of thy kindness last longer than thy kindness itself. Then know that from my soul...

I love thy daughter. Yes, thou dost love my daughter from thy soul, as from thy soul's love did thou love her brothers. Oh, and from my heart's love I do thank thee for it. Be not so hasty to confound my meaning. I mean that with my soul I love thy daughter and do intend to make her queen of England. Well then, who dost thou mean shall be her king? Even he that makes her queen. Who else should be?

What? Thou? Even so, how think you of it? How canst thou woo her? That would I learn of you, as one being best acquainted with her humour. And wilt thou learn of me? Madam, with all my heart. Send to her by the man that slew her brothers a pair of bleeding hearts. Thereon engrave Edward and York. Then perhaps she will weep, and then present to her as sometimes Margaret did to thy father steeped in Rutland's blood, a handkerchief, which say to her did drain the purple sap.

from her sweet brother's body, and bid her wipe her weeping eyes with it. If this inducement move her not to love, send her a letter of thy noble deeds. Tell her thou made away her uncle Clarence, her uncle Rivers. I, and for her sake, made quick removal of a good Aunt Anne. Say? that I did all this for love of her. Nay, then indeed she cannot choose but hate thee, having bought love at such a bloody cost.

Look, what is done cannot be now amended. Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, which after hours gives leisure to repent. If I did take the kingdom from your sons, to make amends, I'll give it to your daughter. A grandmam's name is little less in love than is the doting title of a mother. Your children. were vexation to your youth, but mine shall be a comfort to your age. The loss you have is but a son being king, and by that loss your daughter is made queen.

Go then, my mother, to thy daughter, go. Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale. And when this arm of mine has chastised a petty rebel dull-brained Buckingham, bound with triumphant garlands will I come and lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed. To whom I will recount my conquest won, and she shall be sole victorous. Caesar's Caesar! What were I best to say? Her father's brother would be her lord? Or shall I say her uncle? Or he that slew her brothers and her uncles?

Under what title shall I woo for thee that God, the law, my honor, and her love can make seem pleasing to her tender years? Imply fair England's peace by this alliance. Which she shall purchase with eternal war. Tell her the king that may command does. That which the king's almighty king forbids. Say I will love her everlastingly. But how long shall that title ever last? As long as heaven and nature lengthens it. As long as hell and Richard likes of it. Be eloquent on my behalf to her.

An honest tale works best being plainly told. Then plainly to her tell my loving tale. Plain and not honest is too harsh a style. Your reasons are too shallow. and too quick oh no my reasons are too deep and dead too deep and dead Poor infants in their graves. Harp not on that string, madam, that is past. Harp on it still, shall I, till heartstrings break.

I swear I... Swear then by something thou hast not wronged. Then by myself? Thyself is self-misused. Why then, by God? God's wrong is most of all. If thou had feared to break an oath to him, the imperial metal circling now thy head had graced the tender temples of my child, and both the princes had been breathing here. Which now, two tender bedfellows for dust, thy broken faith has made them pray for worms. What can thou swear by now? The time to come. That!

Thou hast wronged in the time now past. The children live whose fathers thou hast slaughtered. The parents live whose children thou hast butchered. As I intend to prosper and repent, so thrive I in my dangerous affairs of hostile arms. Myself, myself destroy. Heaven and fortune halt my happy hours. Day, yield me not thy light, nor night thy rest.

be opposite all planets of good luck to my proceedings if with dear heart's love immaculate devotion holy thoughts i do not win thy beauteous princely daughter In her exists my happiness and thine. Without her, what follows for myself, thee, herself, the land, and many a Christian soul, death. desolation, ruin and decay. Therefore, dear mother, I must call you so. Be the attorney of my love to her.

Urge the necessity and state of times and be not foolish when in great designs. Shall I be tempted by the devil thus? I, if the devil tempt you to do good. Yet thou did kill my children. But in your daughter's womb I bury them. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? And be a happy mother by the deed. I go. Write to me very shortly, and you shall understand from me her mind. Bear her my true love's kiss.

And so farewell. Relenting fool and shallow changing woman. How now? What news? Su Majestad, on the western coast anchors a powerful navy. To our shores throng many, no doubt, cowardly friends, unarmed and unresolved to beat them back. Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral, and there they drift, expecting but the aid of Buckingham to welcome them ashore. Some light-foot friend, ride to the Duke of Norfolk. Ratliff, thyself. Or Catesby, where is he? Catesby?

Fly to the Duke. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. Ratliff, come here. Ride to Salisbury. When thou get'st them. Right. Uh, sire. Thou unmindful villain, why stay thou here and not go to the Duke? First, mighty leech, tell me your highness' pleasure, what from your grace shall I deliver to him? True, good Catesby. Bid him now levy the greatest strength and power that he can make and meet me with great haste at Salisbury. Ja, boy. What may it please you shall I do at Salisbury? Why?

What would thou do there before I go? Your highness told me I should ride before. My mind is changed. Stanley, what news with you? None good, my liege, to please you with the hearing. Nor none so bad, but well may be reported. They now a riddle. Neither good nor bad. What need thou run so many miles about when thou may tell thy tale the nearest way? Once more, what news? Richmond is on the Seas. Let him sink and be the Seas of him! White-libered renegade! What does he there?

I know not mighty sovereign, but my guess... Well, as you guess... He makes for England! Here to claim the crown! Watchmen is on the seas. What does he there? He makes for England. Here to claim the crown. Is the chair empty? Is the blade unswayed? Is the king dead? An empire unpossessed? What heir of York is there alive but we? And who is England's king? but great York's heir. Then tell me, what does he upon the seas? Thou will revolt and fly to him, I fear. No, my good lord.

Therefore mistrust me not. Where is thy army, then, to beat him back? Are they now not upon the western shore? Safe conducting the rebels from their ships? No, my good lord. My friends are in the north. Cold friends to me. What do they in the north when they should serve their sovereign in the west? They have not been commanded, mighty king. If it please your majesty to give me leave, I'll muster up my friends and meet your grace where and what time your majesty shall please.

Aye, thou would begun to join with Richmond, but I'll not trust thee. Most mighty sovereign, you have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful. I never was nor never will be false. Go then and muster men. But leave behind your son, George Stanley. What?

Look your heart be firm or else his head's security is but frail So deal with him as I prove true to you My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, Sir Edward Courtney and the proud prelate Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother, with many more Confederates, are in arms. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in arms, and every hour more associates flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong. My lord, the army of great Buckingham is on you! Owls!

Nothing but songs of death! There, take thou that! till thou bring better news the news i have to tell your majesty is that by sudden floods and waterfalls buckingham's army is dispersed and scattered and he himself wandered away alone no man knows to where I cry thee mercy. There is my purse to cure that glow of thine. My liege! The Duke of Fuckingham is taken! That is the best!

The news that the Earl of Richmond is with a mighty army landed at Milford is colder tidings, but yet they must be told. Away towards Salisbury! While we reason here a royal battle might be won and lost! Someone take order backing and be brought to Soul Free! The rest march on with me!

Young fellow. My lord. Please tell Richmond this for me. That in the sty of the most deadly boar, my son George Stanley is pinned up and held. If I revolt... Off goes young George's head. The fear of that holds off my present aid. So get thee gone. Commend me to thy lord. Sir. Also. Say that the Queen has heartily consented Richmond should marry Elizabeth, her daughter. But tell me, where is that princely Richmond now? At Pembroke, or at Harford West in Wales.

Well, speed thee to Richmond. I kiss his hand. My letter will resolve him of my mind. Farewell. My lord.

Will not King Richard let me speak with him? No, Lord Buckingham. Therefore be quiet. Hastings. And Edward's children. Grey and Rivers. Holy King Henry and thy fair son Edward, and all those that have been murdered by underhand, corrupted, foul injustice, if now you're wrathful. discontented souls do through the clouds behold this present hour take your revenge and mark my destruction this is all souls day fellow is it not It is. Why that All Souls day is my body's doomsday.

This is the day which in King Edward's time I wished might fall on me if ever I was found false to his children or his wife's allies. This is the day on which I was betrayed by the false faith of him whom most I trusted. This, this all soul's day to my fearful soul, is the determined righting of my wrongs. Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck. When he, quotes she, shall split thy heart with sorrow. Remember...

Poor Margaret was a prophet at first. Come, lead me officers to the block of shame. Wrong is but wrong. and blame the dual blame.

queridos amigos bruised underneath the yoke of tyranny here we receive from our father stanley words of fair comfort and encouragement the wretched bloody and usurping boar swills your warm blood like slop and makes his trough in your emboweled bosoms. This foul swine is now squarely in the center of this isle, near to the town of Leicester, as we learn, in God's name.

Nay, march with cheer, courageous friends, to reap the harvest of perpetual peace by this one bloody trial of fierce war. True hope is swift and flies with eagle's wings.

I don't know what I'm doing. I didn't even want to call you. Here, pitch our tent. Just here in Bosworth Field. Here will I lie tonight. But where tomorrow? Well, never mind that. Who has found out the number of the traitors? Six to seven thousand is their utmost number. Why, our battalion triples that account. Besides... The king's name is a tower of strength, which they on the opposite faction lack. Let's lack no discipline, make no delay, for lords, tomorrow is a busy day.

Come inside, Captain Blunt. The weary son has made a golden set, and by the bright track of his fiery cart, gives a sign of a goodly day tomorrow. Give me some ink and paper in my tent! I'll draft the plan and model for our battle. Capitán Blunt, ¿dónde duerme el señor Stanley? His regiment lies half a mile at least, south from the mighty army of the king.

If without peril it be possible, sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak with him. Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake it. And so God give you quiet rest tonight. Good night, good Captain Blunt. Vamos, caballeros, a mi carpa. Dorset. I shall. Oxford. Yeah, yeah, yeah. A mi carpa. The dew is raw and cold. What is it o'clock? It's supper time, my lord. It's nine o'clock. I will not sup tonight. Give me some ink and paper. Good Norfolk. Sir. Speed thee to thy charge.

Take careful watch. Choose trusty sentinels. I go, my lord. Catesby. Send a messenger from our forces to Stanley's regiment. Bid him bring his army before sun rising, lest his son George fall into the blind cave of eternal night. See you, senor. Fill me a bowl of wine. Light a watch candle. Saddle white surrey for the field tomorrow. Ratcliffe. Mi senor. Give me another bowl of wine. I have not that liveliness of spirit.

nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have. Ratliff. Señor? About the mid of night, come to my tent. and help to arm me. Leave me, I say.

Fortune and victory sit on thy helm. All comfort that the Dark Knight can afford be to thy person, my noble stepfather. Tell me, how fares our loving mother? I, by proxy, bless thee from thy mother. who prays continually for Richmond's good. In brief, for so the time does bid us be, prepare thy soldiers early in the morning, and put thy fortune to the fearless test of bloody strokes and fatal staring war.

At my first chance will I disguise intent and aid thee in this dreadful clash of arms. But on thy side I may not be too forward, lest, if seen, thy half-brother tender George be executed for my weeping eyes. Farewell, Richmond. Be valiant and succeed. Good lords, conduct him to his regiment. I'll strive with troubled thoughts to take a nap, lest leaden slumber weigh me down tomorrow, when I should mount with wings of victory. Once more goodnight.

Kind lords and gentlemen. Oh God, whose captain I account myself. Look on my forces with a gracious eye. Señor Poderoso. Por todo lo bueno en este mundo maldito, tráenos a la victoria mañana. Y para los que lleguen muy temprano a sus abrazos fuertes, tráelos a la gloria del cielo. Amén.

Richard Richard Richard Richard Richard Richard Richard Richard Richard Condemn you, you counterfeit king. Beheaded at Pomfret when thy brain spills and thy soul despairs. Dream on thy nephew smothered in the tower. Let us weigh thee down to ruin, shame and death. Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne who slept unquiet with thee fills thy sleep with fears. The first was I that helped thee to the crown. The last was I that felt thy tyranny.

Bloody and guilty. Guiltily awake. Think on your beheading of Hastings. Think on... Think on of... Bucketum and death. Despair and bloody battle. Heal that. Richmond. Richmond. Dear Richmond. Dear Richmond. Richmond. Richmond. Dear Richmond. Richmond. Dear Richmond. Be cheerful, Richmond, angels for you sing. Ah, Henry prophesied thou shouldst be king. House of Lancaster, their heirs of York pray.

Good angels guard thy battle on this day. When you awake, you will conquer and pray. Rich man, sleep now in peace and wake in joy. Dream of success and happy victory. God's good angels fight on Richmond's side. Let Richard fall from grace due to his pride. Quiet, untroubled soul. When you awake, arm, fight, and conquer for fair England's sake. Richmond, live and flourish.

Richard. Richard. Richard. Richard. Let us sit heavy on my soul at dawn. Dispare and die. Satan's darkest spawn. Give me another horse! Mind up my wounds! Have mercy, Jesus. Soft. I did but dream. Oh, coward conscience. How dost thou afflict me? The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight. Cold, fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. What do I fear? Myself? There's no one else here. Richard loves Richard.

That is, I am I. Is there a murderer here? No. Yes, I am. Then fly. What, from myself? Great reason why, lest I revenge myself upon myself. But no, I love myself. Wherefore? for any good that I myself have done unto myself? Oh no, no, oh no! I rather hate myself for hateful deeds committed by myself. I am a villain! Yet I lie, I am not. Fool, of thyself speak well. Fool, do not flatter. I shall despair.

There is no creature loves me, and if I die, no soul will pity me. And wherefore should they, since that I myself find in myself no... Pity to myself! My lord. Zones! Who is there? Ratcliffe, my lord, tis I. The early village cock has twice done salutation to the morn. Your friends are up and buckle on their armor. Oh, Rattler. I have dreamed a fearful dream.

Methought the souls of all that I had murdered came to my tent, and everyone did threat tomorrow's vengeance on the head of Richard. What think thou? Will our friends prove all true? No hay duda, señor. Oh, Ratcliffe, I fear, I fear. Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows. By the Apostle Paul, shadows tonight have struck more terror to the soul of Richard than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers, ironclad and led by shallow Richmond.

It is not yet near day. Come, go with me. Under our tents I'll play the eavesdropper to see if any need to shrink from me.

Good morrow, Richmond. Cry mercy, lord and watchful gentleman, that you have taken a tardy sluggard here. How have you slept, my lord? The sweetest sleep and fairest boating dreams that ever entered in a drowsy head. Methought the souls whose bodies Richard murdered came to my tent and cried out victory. I promise you my soul is very joyful in the remembrance of so fair a dream. How far into the morning is it, Oxford? Upon the stroke of four. Why, then, tis time to arm and give direction.

Loving countrymen, remember this. God and our good cause fight upon our side. Except Richard. Those whom we fight against had rather have us win. Him they follow. For what is he they follow? Truly, gentlemen, a bloody tyrant and a murderer. Then in the name of God and all our rights, Dance your standards. Sound drums and trumpets. For God, St. George,

Who saw the sun today? Yo no, señor. Barely disdains to shine. For by the book you should have braved the East an hour ago. A black day will it be for somebody. Ratcliffe. Senor. The sun will not be seen today. The sky does frown and glower upon our army. I would these dewy drops weren't on the ground. Not shine today? Why, what is that to me more than to Richmond? For the selfsame heaven that frowns on me looks sadly upon him.

The foe flaunts in the field. Come, bustle, bustle. Harness well my horse. Call up Lord Stanley. Bid him bring his forces. I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain and thus my battle shall be ordered. My front line shall be drawn out all in length, consisting equally of horse and foot. Our archers shall be placed in the midst. John, Duke of Norfolk, Thomas, Earl of Surrey, shall be the leaders of this foot and horse. They thus debated,

We will follow in the main battle, whose power on either side shall be flanked by our best mounted soldiers. This and St. George to boot. What thinks thou, Norfolk? A good direction, warlike sovereign. This found I on my tent this morning. Johnny of Norfolk, be not so bold, for Dickie thy master is bought and sold. A ploy devised by the enemy.

Go gentlemen, every man unto his charge. Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls. Conscience is but a word that cowards use, devised at first to keep the strong in awe. Our strong arms be our conscience, blades our law. March on, join bravely, let us do it pell-mell. If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell. Remember whom you are to fight against. Assorted vagabonds, rascals and runaways, a scum of Bretons and base lackey peasants. And who does lead them but a poultry fellow?

A milk sock! One that never in his life felt so much cold as over shoes in snow! If we be conquered, let men conquer us! And let not these bastard brethren! Enjoy our lands! Live with our wives! Ravish our daughters! I hear their drum!

Fight gentlemen of England, fight bold yeomen! Draw archers, draw your arrows to the head! Spur your proud horses hard and ride in blood! Amaze the heavens with your broken lances! What says Lord Stanley? Will he bring his army? My lord, he does deny to come. Off with his son George's head. My lord, the enemy is past the march. After the battle, let George Stanley die. Thousand hearts are great within my bosom.

Advance our standards, shut upon our foes! Our ancient world of courage, fair Saint George, inspire us with the ire of fiery dragons upon them! Victory sits on our helms! Rescue my lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue! The king enacts more wonders than a man, goading the enemy to every danger. His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights. Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death! A horse! A horse! My kingdom! For a horse! Withdraw, my lord!

I'll help you to a horse. Slave, I have thrown my life on fate's dice. And I accept the hazard of the die. I think there'll be six rich ones in the field. Five of us slain today instead of him. The horse! A horse! My kingdom! For a horse! Richmond is approaching! At last, Richard! That's king to you! The Richmond! Ah ! Ah !

Richard the Bore King is slain! Long live Richmond! God in your arms be praised, victorious friends! The day is ours! The bloody dog is- Well hast thou earned this crown! Lo, hear this long-usurped royalty from the dead temples of this bloody wretch have I plucked off to grace thy noble brows! Wear it! Enjoy it! Make much of it! Great God of Heaven, say Amen to all! But tell me, is young George Stanley living? He is, my lord.

and safe in Leicester Town. Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled that in submission will return to us. And then, as we have taken the sacrament, we will unite the White Rose And the red. Smile, heaven, upon this fair conjunction that long have frowned upon their enmity. What traitor hears me and says not amen? England has long been mad and scarred herself. The brother blindly shed his brother's blood. All this divided York and Lancaster divided in the dire division.

Oh, Richmond and Princess Elizabeth, the true succeeders of each royal house by God's fair ordinance, join together. Enrich the time to come. With smooth-faced peace. Now civil wounds are stopped. Peace lives again. That she may long live here. God say amen. Amen.

For this amongst the rest was I ordained. For mankind always violence has reigned. Down, down to hell, and say I sent thee there. that have neither pity, love, nor fear. I have no brother. I am like no brother. And this word, love. In all you sheep-like men, but not in me. I am myself alone. Thy turn is next. myself but bad till i be best with other face will he to us return Then make them crash and burn on our dreams. Crash and burn!

The Play On podcast series, Richard III, was written by William Shakespeare and translated in the modern English verse by Migdalia Cruz. All episodes were directed by Lisa Rothy. This podcast was recorded under a SAG-AFTRA agreement. The cast is as follows. as Queen Margaret, Citizen, and Blunt. Hiram Delgado as Clarence, Dorset, Ely, and Messenger. Nancy Rodriguez as Lady Anne, Oxford, Rivers,

and a murderer. Rachel Crowell as Queen Elizabeth, Norfolk and Messenger. Sanjit De Silva as Ness Aquino, Buckingham and a Citizen. Charles Dumas as Edward, Henry VI, Stanley, and Cardinal. Andy Lucien, as Hastings, Scrivener, a messenger, and a murderer. Gabriela Sacher, as Catesby, Duke of York, and a messenger. Danaya Esperanza as Brackenbury, Ratcliffe, Lord Mayor, Tyrrell, and Richmond. Alma Cuervo as Duchess of York, Sheriff, and a messenger.

Elijah Goodfriend as Prince Edward, a page, and a boy. Casting by the Telsey office, Karen Castle, CSA. Voice and text coach, Julie Foe. Original music composition, mix and sound design by Lindsay Jones. Composer, producer, guitars, bass, lead vocals, recording, and mix engineer, David Molina. Edwin Ayala on drums. Backup vocals by Manuel Trujillo. Sound engineering and mixing by Sadaharu Yagi. Mix engineer and dialogue editor, Larry Walsh.

Podcast mastering by Greg Cortez at New Monkey Studio. Coordinating producer, Transcend Streaming, Kira Bowie and Liana Keyes. Executive producer, Michael Goodfriend. The Play On podcast series, Richard III, is produced by Next Chapter Podcasts and is made possible by the generous support of the Hitz Foundation. Visit nextchapterpodcast.com for more about the Play On podcast series.

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