Henry VII. Cardinal Bouchier, archbishop of Canterbury. Thomas Rotheram, archbishop of York. John Morton, bishop of Ely. Duke of Buckingham. Duke of Norfolk: Earl of Surrey, his son. Sir Thomas Vaughan. Sir Richard Ratcliff. Elizabeth, queen of king Edward IV. Duchess of York, mother to king Edward IV., Clarence, and Gloster. Lady Anne, widow of Edward, prince of Wales, son to king Henry VI.; afterwards married to the Duke of Gloster. A young Daughter of Clarence. Lords and other attendants; two Gentlemen, a Pursuivant, Scrivener, Citizens, Murderers, Messengers, Ghosts, Soldiers, &c. Scene, England. LIFE AND DEATH OF KING RICHARD III. Now ACT I. SCENE I. London. A street Enter Gloster. Gloster. is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; But I,- that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, 1, that am rudely stamp'd and want love's majesty, To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, And hate the idle pleasures of these days. Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. Dive, thoughts, down to my soul! here Clarence comes. Enter Clarence, guarded, and Brakenbury. Brother, good day: What means this armed guard That waits upon your grace? Clar. His majesty, Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed This conduct to convey me to the Tower. Glo. Upon what cause? Clar. Because my name is-George. Glo. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours; * Preparations for mischief. He should, for that, commit your godfathers:— He hearkens after prophecies, and dreams; And, for my name of George begins with G, These, as I learn, and such like toys* as these, Glo. Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by wo men: "Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower; My lady Grey, his wife, Clarence, 'tis she, That tempers him to this extremity. Was it not she, and that good man of worship, That made him send lord Hastings to the Tower; Clar. By heaven, I think, there is no man secure But the queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds That trudge betwixt the king and mistress Shore. Heard you not, what an humble suppliant Lord Hastings was to her for his delivery? Glo. Humbly complaining to her deity Got my lord chamberlain his liberty. I'll tell you what,-I think, it is our way, If we will keep in favour with the king, To be her men, and wear her livery: The jealous o'er-worn widow, and herselft, Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen, Are mighty gossips in this monarchy. * Fancies. + The Queen and Shore. |