Original subtitles

JU' I Bells Chiming]

[All] God save King Edward the Fourth!

Long live King Edward the Fourth!

May the king live forever!

[ Man Chanting In Latin ]

[All Chanting In Latin]

Once more we sit in England's royal throne...

repurchased with the blood of enemies.

[All] Hurrah!

Come hither, Bess.

[ Chuckles ]

And let me kiss my boy.

Young Ned...

for thee thine uncles and myself...

have in our armors watched the winter's night...

went all afoot in summer's scalding heat...

that thou mightst repossess the crown in peace.

And from our labors, thou shall reap the gain.

Clarence and Gloucester...

love my lovely queen.

And kiss your princely nephew, Brothers both.

The duty that I owe unto Your Majesty...

I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe.

Thanks, noble Clarence.

And that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st...

witness the loving kiss I give the fruit.

Worthy Brother, thanks.

And now what rests but that we spend the time with stately triumphs...

mirthful comic shows...

such as befit the pleasure of the court.

Sound drums and trumpets!

Farewell sour annoy...

for here, I hope, begins our lastingjoy.

[All] Hurrah!

[ Crowd Cheering ]

[Cheering Continues]

[ Bells Pealing ]

[ Loud Cheering ]

[ Cheering Continues ]

[Cheering Continues]

[ Cheering Fades ]

[ Door Closes ]

Now is the winter of our discontent...

made glorious summer...

by this sun of York.

And all the clouds that lowered upon our house...

in the deep bosom of the ocean...

buried.

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths...

our bruised arms hung up for monuments...

our stern alarums changed to merry meetings...

our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

Grim-visaged war has smoothed his wrinkled front.

And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds...

- to fright the souls of fearful adversaries... - ♪♪ [Lute]

He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber...

- to the lascivious pleasing... ' JJ' [Continues]

Of a lute.

J)!' I Ends ]

But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks...

nor made to court an amorous looking glass -

I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty...

to strut before a wanton ambling nymph -

I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion...

cheated of feature by dissembling nature...

deformed, unfinished...

sent before my time into this breathing world scarce half made up...

and that so lamely and unfashionable...

that dogs bark at me as I halt by them.

Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb.

And, for I should not deal in her soft laws...

she did corrupt frail nature with some bribe...

to shrimp mine arm up like a withered shrub...

to heap an envious mountain on my back...

to shape my legs of an unequal size...

to disproportion me in every part...

like to a chaos or an unlicked bear whelp...

that carries no impression like the dam!

Why...

I, in this weak piping time of peace...

have no delight to pass away the time...

unless to spy my shadow in the sun...

and descant on mine own deformity.

Then, since this earth affords nojoy to me...

but to command, to check...

to o'erbear such as are of better person than myself...

I'll make my heaven to dream...

upon the crown...

and, whiles I live, to account this world but hell...

until this misshaped trunk that bears this head...

be round impaled with a glorious -

[ Chuckles ] crown.

But yet I know not how to get the crown...

for many lives stand between me and home.

And I, like one lost in a thorny wood...

that rends the thorns and is rent with the thorns...

seeking a way and straying from the way...

not knowing how to find the open air...

but toiling desperately to find it out...

torment myself to catch the English crown!

And from that torment I will free myself...

or hew my way out with a bloody ax!

Why...

I can smile...

and murder whiles I smile...

and cry “Content” to that which grieves my heart...

and wet my cheeks with artificial tears...

and frame my face to all occasions.

I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall.

I'll play the orator as well as Nestor...

deceive more slyly than Ulysses could...

and, like a Sinon, take another Troy.

I can add colors to the chameleon...

change shapes with Proteus for advantages...

and set the murderous Machiavel to school!

Can I do this and cannot get a crown?

Tut, were it further off, I'll pluck it down.

♪♪ [ Men Chanting In Latin ]

♪♪ I Continues ]

Meantime, I'll marry...

with the Lady Anne.

♪♪ [Continues]

And here she comes...

♪♪ I Continues ]

lamenting her lost love...

Edward, prince of Wales...

whom I some small time since...

stabbed in my angry mood at Tewksbury.

A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman this spacious world cannot again afford.

And made her widow to a woeful bed...

that from his loins no hopeful branch might spring...

to cross me from the golden time...

I look for.

♪♪ I Continues ]

♪♪ [Continues]

♪♪ [Continues]

♪♪ [ Ends]

Set down...

set down your honorable load...

whilst I awhile obsequiously lament...

the pale ashes of the house of Lancaster.

[Whimpers Softly]

Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood.

Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost...

to hear the lamentations of poor Anne.

Lo...

in these windows that let forth thy life...

I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.

Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes!

Cursed be the heart that had the heart to do it!

Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence!

If ever he have wife, let her be made...

more miserable by the death of him...

than I am made...

by my young lord.

Aye, thee.

♪♪ [Chanting Resumes]

[ Yells] Stay, you that bear the corse...

and set it down.

What black magician conjures up this fiend...

to stop devoted charitable deeds?

Villains, set down the corse, or, by Saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.

- My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. - Unmannered dog! Stand thou, when I command.

Advance thy halberd higher than my breast...

or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot...

and spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.

What, do you tremble? Are you all afraid?

Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortal...

and mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.

Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!

Thou hadst 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, hence, and trouble us not.

If thou delight to view thy heinous deed...

behold this pattern of thy butcheries.

Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity.

Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman...

of these supposed crimes, to give me leave...

by circumstance, but to acquit myself.

- I did not kill your husband. - Why, then he is alive.

O, he was gentle, mild and virtuous.

The fitter for the King of Heaven, that hath him, 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.

[Sobbing] Some dungeon.

- Your bedchamber. - [ Sobbing Continues]

[Spits]

On now, good people, with your holy load.

♪♪ [Chanting Resumes]

♪♪ [Continues]

♪♪ [ Continues, Faint]

I'll have her...

but I will not keep her long.

What though I killed her husband... and her father...

the readiest way to make the wench amends...

is to become her husband and her father- the which will I.

Not all so much for love...

as for another secret close intent...

by marrying her...

which I must reach unto.

[Sighs Deeply]

But yet I run before my horse to market.

Clarence still breathes...

Edward still lives...

and reigns.

When they are gone...

then must I count my gains.

[ Thinking ] Clarence, beware.

Thou keepest me from the light.

But I will plan a pitch y day for thee...

and I will buzz abroad such prophecies...

that Edward shall be fearful of his life.

And then, to purge his fear...

I'll be thy death.

♪♪ [Chanting In Latin]

♪♪ I Continues ]

♪♪ I Continues ]

[Whispering]

♪♪ I Continues ]

[ Edward] Where is the duke of Clarence?

[ Man ] At hand, my lord. He waits Your Highness' pleasure.

- ♪♪ [Continues] - [Edward] Let him be arraigned“

and brought before us.

♪♪ [Continues]

Plots have I laid...

inductions dangerous...

with lies well steeled with weighty arguments...

by drunken prophecies...

libels... and dreams...

to set my brother Clarence and the king...

in deadly hate the one against the other.

♪♪ I Continues ]

[ Edward] Oh, passing traitor...

perjured and unjust!

What have I done that seems disgracious in my brother's -

And if King Edward be as true and just...

as I am subtle, false and treacherous...

this day should Clarence closely be mewed up...

about a prophecy, which says that

of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.

And if I fail not in my deep intent, Clarence hath not another clay to live.

What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit?

Away with him!

♪♪ I Continues ]

[Sighs]

He cannot live...

I hope...

and must not die till George be packed with post-horse up to heaven.

Dive, thoughts, down to my soul - George Clarence comes.

♪♪ I Continues ]

- Brother! - Oh.

[ Chuckling] Good day.

What means this armed guard that waits upon Your Grace?

His Majesty, tendering my person's safety...

hath appointed this conduct to convey me to the Tower.

- Upon what cause? - Because my name is George.

Alas, milord, that fault is none of yours.

- He should, for that, commit your godfathers. - [Chuckles]

O, belike his majesty hath some intent...

that you shall be new-christened in the Tower, eh?

[Chuckles] Ah, but what's the matter, Clarence?

- May I know? - Yea, Richard, when I know...

for I protest as yet I do not.

But as I can learn...

he hearkens after prophecies and dreams.

And from the crossrow plucks the letter

and says a wizard told him that by

his issue disinherited should be.

And, for my name of George begins with

it follows in his thoughts that I am he.

These, as I learn, and suchlike toys as these...

have moved His Highness to commit me now.

Why, thus it is when men are ruled by women.

'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower.

Our upstart queen - his wife, Clarence, 'tis she...

that tempers him to this extremity.

Was it not she and that good man of worship...

Anthony Rivers, her brother there...

that made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower...

from whence this present day he is delivered?

We are not safe, Clarence. We are not safe.

I beseech Your Graces both to pardon me.

His Majesty hath straitly given in charge that no man shall have private conference...

of what degree soever with your brother.

We know thy charge, Brackenbury, and will obey.

We are the queen's abjects and must obey.

Brother, farewell. I will unto the king...

and whatsoe'er you will employ me in, I will perform it to enfranchise you.

Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood...

touches me deeper than you can imagine.

- I know it pleaseth neither of us well. - [Chuckles] Well...

your imprisonment shall not be long.

I will deliver you, or else lie for you.

- Meantime, have patience. - I must perforce.

Farewell.

[ Door Closes ]

Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return.

Simple, plain Clarence.

I do love thee so, that I will shortly send thy soul to heaven...

if heaven will take the present at our hands.

Gentle Lady Anne...

is not the causer of the untimely death of your brave prince...

as blameful as the executioner?

Thou art the cause... and most accursed effect.

Your beauty was the cause of that effect.

Your beauty, which 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.

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.

Go to. He lives that loves you better than he could.

Where is he?

Here.

[Spits]

Why dost thou spit...

at me?

Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake.

Never came poison from so sweet a place.

Never hung poison on a fouler toad.

Out of my sight.

Thou dost infect mine eyes.

Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.

Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears...

shamed their aspects with store of childish drops.

These eyes that never shed remorseful tear.

No. When thy warlike father, like a child...

told the sad story of my father's death...

and 20 times made pause to sob and weep...

that all the standers-by had wet their cheeks...

like trees bedashed with rain -

in that sad time...

my manly eyes did scorn an humble tear.

And what these sorrows could not thence bring forth...

thy beauty hath...

and made them blind with weeping.

I never sued to friend nor enemy.

My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word.

But now thy beauty is proposed my fee.

My proud heart sues and prompts my tongue to speak.

Teach not thy lip 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 sword...

which if thou please to hide in this true breast and let the soul forth that adoreth thee...

I lay it naked to the deadly stroke and humbly beg the death upon my knee!

Nay, do not pause, for I did kill Prince Edward...

but 'twas thy beauty that provoked me.

Nay, now dispatch. 'Twas I that stabbed your husband...

but 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on.

[Whimpers, Sobs]

Take up the sword again...

or take up me.

Arise, dissembler.

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 shalt thou be accessory.

- I would I knew thy heart. - 'Tis figured in my tongue.

- I fear me both are false. - Then never man was true.

Well, well...

put up your sword.

Say, then, my peace is made.

That shalt thou know hereafter.

- But shall I live in hope? - All men, I hope, live so.

Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

To take... is not to give.

Look...

how my ring encompasseth thy finger.

Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart.

Wear both of them...

for both of them are thine.

Bid me farewell.

Was ever woman in this humor wooed?

Was ever woman in this humor won?

My dukedom to a widow's chastity...

I do mistake my person all this while.

Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot...

myself to be a marvelous proper man.

I'll be at charges for a looking glass...

and entertain some score or two of tailors...

to study fashions to adorn my body.

Since I am crept in favor with myself...

I will maintain it to some little cost.

Shine out, fair sun...

till I have bought a glass...

that I may see my shadow...

as I pass.

Have patience, madam. There's no doubt His Majesty...

will soon recover his accustomed health.

In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse.

Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort...

and cheer His Grace...

with quick and merry words.

If he were dead, what would betide of me?

No other harm but loss of such a lord.

The loss of such a lord includes all harm.

The heavens have blessed you with a goodly son to be your comforter when he is gone.

Oh, he is young and his minority...

is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester -

a man that loves not me, nor none of you.

Is it concluded he shall be protector?

It is intended, not concluded yet.

But so it must be if the king miscarry.

This is a special warrant for the duke of Clarence.

A summary order to deliver him...

to execution and the hand of death.

♪♪ [ Men Chanting In Latin ]

♪♪ I Continues ]

[Blows]

Which done...

God take King Edward to his mercy...

and leave the world for me...

to bustle in.

♪♪ [Continues]

♪♪ [ Ends]

[Groans]

Oh. [Whimpers]

Why looks Your Grace so heavily today?

Oh, I have passed a miserable night.

So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams...

that as I am a Christian faithful man...

I would not spend another such a night...

though 'twere to buy a world of happy days...

so full of dismal terror was the time.

What was this dream?

I pray you tell it me.

Methought that I had broken from the Tower...

and was embarked to cross to Burgundy.

And in my company, my brother Gloucester...

who from my cabin tempted me to walk upon the hatches.

Thence we looked towards England...

and cited up a thousand fearful times...

during the wars of York and Lancaster that had befallen us.

As we paced along upon the giddy footing of the hatches...

methought that Gloucester stumbled...

and, in falling...

struck me, that thought to stay him...

overboard, into the tumbling billows of the main.

Lord, Lord!

Methought what pain it was to drown.

What dreadful noise of water in mine ears.

What ugly sights of death within mine eyes.

Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks...

10,000 men that fishes gnawed upon...

wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl...

inestimable stones, unvalued jewels...

all scattered at the bottom of the sea.

Had you such leisure in the time of death...

to gaze upon the secrets of the deep?

Methought I had, and often did I strive...

to yield the ghost.

But still the envious flood kept in my soul...

and would not let it forth to find the empty, vast and wandering air...

but smothered it within my panting bulk...

which almost burst to belch it in the sea.

Awoke you not with this sore agony?

Oh, no, my dream was lengthened after life.

Oh, then began the tempest to my soul.

I crossed, methought, the melancholy flood...

with that grim ferryman that poets write of...

into the kingdom of perpetual night.

The first that there did greet my stranger soul...

was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick...

who cried aloud...

“What scourge for perjury can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?”

And so he vanished.

Then came wandering by a shadow like an angel...

with bright hair dabbled with blood.

And he shrieked out aloud...

“Clarence is come! False, fleeting, perjured Clarence...

“that stabbed me in the field by Tewksbury!

Seize on him, Furies! Take him to your torments!”

With that, methought a legion of foul fiends environed me...

and howled in mine ears such hideous cries...

that with the very noise I trembling waked...

and for a season after...

could not believe but that I was in hell...

such terrible impression made my dream.

No marvel, my lord, that it affrighted you.

I promise you, lam afraid to hear you tell it.

Oh, Brackenbury, I have done those things...

which now bear evidence against my soul...

for Edward's sake...

and see how he requites me.

Oh, God, if my deep prayers will not appease thee...

but thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds...

yet execute thy wrath on me alone.

Oh, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children.

- [ Keys j/ng/lhg ] - I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay with me.

My soul is heavy...

and I fain would sleep.

I will, my lord.

God give Your Grace...

good rest.

[ Man ] Good time of day unto Your Royal Grace.

[Chuckling] Oh, princely Buckingham. I kiss thy hand.

- Good morrow, Catesby. - God make Your Grace asjoyful as you have been.

- [ Buckingham Chuckles] - But now the duke of Buckingham and I have come from visiting His Majesty.

He hath revoked the order for the execution of the duke, your brother.

What likelihood of his amendment, lords?

But who comes here?

By heaven, I think there's 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?

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 favor with the king to be her men and wear her livery.

The jealous fading queen and Mistress Shore...

since that our brother dubbed them gentlewomen...

are mighty gossips in our monarchy.

[ Door Opens ]

I beseech Your Graces both to pardon me.

His Majesty hath straitly given in charge that no man shall have private conference...

of what degree soever with your brother.

Even so, an't please your worship, Brackenbury...

you may partake of anything we say.

We speak no treason, man. We say the king is wise and virtuous...

and his noble queen well struck in years, fair and notjealous.

We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot...

a cherry lip, a bonny eye...

a passing pleasing tongue and that the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks.

How say you, sir? Can you deny all this?

With this, my lord, myself have naught to do.

[Snickers] Naught to do with Mistress Shore?

I tell thee, fellow, he that doth naught with her, excepting one, were best to do it secretly, alone.

- What one, my lord? - Her husband, knave. Wouldst thou betray me?

- [All Laugh] - I beseech Your Graces both to pardon me...

and withal forbear all conference with the duke of Clarence.

[Sighs] I cannot tell. The world is grown so bad...

that wrens may prey where eagles dare not perch.

Since everyjack became a gentleman, there's many a gentle person made ajack.

- [All Chuckle] - But who comes here?

[ Catesby] The new-delivered Hastings.

Good time of day unto my gracious lord.

As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain.

- Well are you welcome to this open air. - [Chuckles]

How hath your lordship brooked imprisonment?

With patience, good Catesby, as prisoners must.

- My lord. - Farewell, good Brackenbury.

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 that the eagle should be mewed...

while kites and buzzards prey at liberty.

- What news abroad? - No news so bad abroad as this at home.

The king is sickly, weak and melancholy, and his physicians fear him mightily.

Now, by Saint Paul, that news is bad indeed.

Hmm. He hath kept an evil diet long...

and overmuch consumed his royal person.

[Clears Throat] 'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.

Where is he, Catesby, in his bed?

- He is. - God grant him health.

- Did you confer with him? - We did, my lord...

- Did you confer with him? - We did, my lord...

and he desires to make atonement betwixt the duke of Gloucester and the brothers of the queen.

And betwixt them and you, my good Lord Chamberlain...

and sent to warn you to his royal presence.

[Yells] They do me wrong...

and I will not endure it.

Who are they that complain unto the king...

that I, forsooth, am stern and love them not?

By holy Paul, they love His Grace but lightly that fill his ears with such dissentious rumors.

Because I cannot flatter and speak fair...

smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive and cog...

duck with French nods and apish courtesy...

I must be held a rancorous enemy.

Cannot a plain man live and think no harm...

but thus his simple truth must be abused...

by silken, sly, insinuatingjacks?

- To whom in all this presence speaks Your Grace? - To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.

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 preserve better than you would wish...

cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while...

but you must trouble him with lewd complaints.

Come, come, we know your meaning, Brother Gloucester.

You envy my advancement and my friends'.

God grant we never may have need of you!

Meantime, God grants that we have need of you.

Our brother is imprisoned by your means...

myself disgraced and the nobility held in contempt...

while great promotions are daily given to ennoble those...

that scarce some two days since were worth a noble.

By God who raised me to this careful height...

from that contented hap 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 falsely to draw me in these vile suspects.

You may deny that you were not the cause of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment.

- She may, my lord - - 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 lay those honors on your high desert.

Ha! What may she not? She may, aye, marry, may she -

- What, marry, may she? - “What, marry, may she?” Marry with a king...

a bachelor and a handsome stripling, too.

I guess your grandam had a worser match.

My lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne...

your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs.

By heaven, I will acquaint His Majesty...

with those gross taunts I often have endured.

What? Threat you me with telling of the king? Tell him and spare not.

Look, what I have said I will avouch in presence of the king.

I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower. 'Tis time to speak, my pains are quite forgot.

I had rather be a country servant-maid than a great queen, with this condition...

to be thus baited, scorned and stormed at.

Small joy have I in being England's queen.

Ere you were queen, aye, or your husband king...

I was a packhorse in his great affairs...

a weeder-out of his proud adversaries, a liberal rewarder of his friends.

To royalize his blood I spilt mine own.

In all which time you and your late husband...

together with his son Dorset here...

were factious for the house of Lancaster - and, Rivers, so were you.

Let me put in your minds, if you forget, what you have been ere this, and what you are.

Withal, what I have been, and what I am.

Poor Clarence did forsake his father-in-law, Warwick -

Aye, and forswore himself - which jesu pardon -

to fight on Edward's party for the crown.

And for his meed, poor lord, he is mewed up.

I would 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.

My lord of Gloucester, in those busy clays...

which here you urge to prove us enemies...

we followed then our lord, our lawful king.

So should we you, if you should be our king.

If I should be? I'd rather be a peddler.

Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof.

As littlejoy, my lord, as you suppose...

you should enjoy, were you this country's king...

as little I enjoy, being the queen thereof.

Dispute not with him. He is lunatic.

Peace, Master Marquess, you are malapert.

Your fire-new stamp of honor is scarce current.

- What doth he say, my lord of Stanley? - Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord.

They that stand high have many blasts to shake them.

And when they fall, they dash themselves to pieces.

Good counsel. Marry, learn it, Marquess. Learn it.

- It touches you, my lord, as much as me. - Aye...

and much more.

But I was born so high.

[ Richard ] I was too hot to do somebody good...

that is too cold in thinking of it now.

Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid.

He is franked up to fatting for his pains.

God pardon them that are the cause thereof.

A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion...

to pray for them that have clone wrong to us.

So do I ever, being well-advised.

For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself.

Madam, His Majesty doth call for you and for Your Grace and you, my noble lords.

Catesby, we come. Lords, will you go with us?

Madam, we will attend Your Grace.

Go you before, and I will follow you.

But soft...

But soft...

here come my executioners.

How now, my hardy, stout resolved mates!

Are you now going to dispatch this thing?

We are, milord, and come to have the warrant that we may be admitted where he is.

Well thought upon. I have it here about me.

Uh-

But, sirs, be sudden in the execution...

withal obdurate, do not hear him plead...

for Clarence is well-spoken and perhaps may move your hearts to pity if you mark him.

Tush! Fear not, milord, we will not stand to prate.

Talkers are no good doers.

Be assured we come to use our hands and not our tongues.

[Chuckles] Your eyes drop millstones when fools' eyes drop tears, eh?

[Both Chuckle]

[Chuckling ] I like you, lads. About your business straight.

- Go, go, dispatch. - We will, my noble lord.

In God's name, who are you, and how came you hither?

I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs.

- Be you so brief? - O, sir, 'tis better to be brief than tedious.

Show him our commission and talk no more.

I am, in this, commanded to deliver the noble duke of Clarence to your hands.

I will not reason what is meant thereby, because I will be guiltless of the meaning.

Here is the key.

There lies the duke asleep.

I'll to His Majesty and certify His Grace that thus I have resigned my charge to you.

You may, sir. It is a point of wisdom. Fare you well.

I know thy charge, Brackenbuly...

and will take it.

[ Door Opens ]

Clout him over the head with the hilts of thy weapon...

and then chop him in the malmsey butt in the next room.

Aye, make a sop of him.

Where art thou, keeper?

[Sighs]

Give me a cup of wine.

You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon.

[Screaming]

[Screaming Stops]

Why, so.

Now have I done a good day's work.

You peers, continue this united league.

Madam, my mother...

I do crave your blessing.

I every day expect a summons from my Redeemer...

to redeem me hence...

and now...

in peace my soul shall part for heaven...

since I have left my friends at peace on earth.

Rivers, Hastings...

take each other's hand.

Dissemble not your hatred...

swear your love.

By heaven, my heart is purged from grudging hate...

and with my hand I seal my true heart's love.

So thrive I, as I truly swear the like.

Take heed you dally not before your king...

lest he that is the supreme King of Kings...

confound your hidden falsehood...

and award either 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.

Madam, yourself are not exempt in this...

nor you, young Dorset -

Buckingham, nor you.

You have been factious one against the other.

Wife, love Lord Hastings.

Let him kiss your hand.

And what you do, do it unfeignedly.

There, Hastings. I will never more remember our former hatred...

so thrive I and mine.

Dorset, embrace him.

Hastings, love Lord Marquess.

This interchange of love, I here protest, upon my part shall be inviolable.

And so swear I, my lord.

Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league...

with thy embracement to my wife's allies...

and make me happy in your unity.

Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate on you or yours...

God punish me with hate in those where I expect most love.

When I have most need to employ a friend...

and 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 cold in zeal to you or yours.

[ Edward ] A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham...

is this thy vow unto my sickly heart.

There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here...

to make the perfect period of this peace.

[ Buckingham] And in good time here comes the noble duke.

Good morrow to my sovereign king... and queen...

and, princely peers, a happy time of clay.

Happy, indeed, as we have spent the clay.

Brother, we have done deeds of charity...

made peace of enmity, fair love of hate...

between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.

A blessed labor, my most sovereign liege.

Among this princely heap...

if any here, by false intelligence...

or wrong surmise, hold me a foe -

lfl unwittingly, or in my rage...

have aught committed that is hardly borne by any in this presence...

I desire to reconcile me to his friendly peace.

'Tis death to me to be at enmity.

I hate it, and desire all good men's love.

First, madam, 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, Lord Rivers, and, Lord Grey, of you -

of you, my noble Marquess, lord of Dorset -

that all without desert have frowned on me -

dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen...

indeed, of all.

I do not know that Englishman alive with whom my soul is anyjot 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 compounded.

My sovereign liege, I do beseech Your Majesty...

to take our brother Clarence to Your Grace.

Why, madam...

have I offered love for this to be so flouted in this royal presence?

Who knows not that the gentle duke... is dead?

You do him injury to scorn his corse.

Who knows not he is dead?

- Who knows he is? - All-seeing heaven, what a world is this!

Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest?

Aye, my good lord...

and no one in this presence but his red color hath forsook his cheeks.

L-ls Clarence dead? The order was reversed.

But he, poor soul, by your first order died, and that a winged Mercury did bear.

Some tardy cripple bore the countermand...

that came too lag to see him buried.

Who sued to me for him?

Who, in my rage, kneeled at my feet, and bade me be advised?

Who spake of brotherhood?

Who spake 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 by Tewksbury...

when Warwick had me down, he rescued me...

and said, “Dear Brother, live and be a king”?

Who told me...

when we both lay on the ground frozen almost to death...

how he did lap me even in his own garments...

and gave himself, all thin and naked, to the numb, cold night?

All this from my remembrance brutish wrath sinfully plucked...

and not a man of you had so much grace to put it in my mind!

Oh, God!

I fear...

thyjustice will take hold on me, and you...

and mine, and yours for this.

Come, Hastings, help me to my bed.

Oh!

Poor Clarence!

This is the fruit of rashness.

Marked you not how that the guilty kindred of the queen...

looked pale when they did hear of Clarence' death?

Oh, my good Lord Stanley, they did urge it still unto the king.

- God will revenge it. - [Queen Walls]

[Sobbing]

[Sobbing Continues] Oh, who shall hinder me to wail and weep...

to chide my fortune and torment myself?

Oh, for my husband, for my clear Lord Edward.

Comfort, dear madam. God is much displeased...

that you take with unthankfulness his doing.

Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother...

of the young prince of Wales.

Send straight for him. Let him be crowned.

In him your comfort lives.

Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave...

and plant yourjoys in living Edward's throne.

Sister...

have comfort.

All of us have cause to wail the dimming of our shining star...

but none may help our harms by wailing them.

Madam my mother, I do cry you mercy. I did not see Your Grace.

Most humbly on my knee, I crave your blessing.

God bless thee and put meekness in thy mind...

love, charity, obedience and true duty.

Amen, and make me die a good old man. That is the butt end of a mother's blessing.

I marvel that Her Grace did leave it out.

You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers...

that bear this mutual heavy load of moan...

now cheer each other in each other's love.

The broken rancor of your high-swoln hearts...

but lately splinted, knit and joined together...

must gently be preserved, cherished and kept.

Meseemeth good that with some little train...

forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetched...

hither to London to be crowned our king.

Why with some little train, my lord of Buckingham?

Marry, my lord, lest by a multitude...

the new-healed wound of malice should break out...

as well the fear of harm as harm apparent...

in my opinion, ought to be prevented.

I hope the king made peace with all of us...

and the compact is firm and true in me.

And so in me. And so, I think, in all.

Yet, since it is but green...

it should be put to no apparent likelihood of breach...

which haply by much company might be urged.

Therefore I say with noble Buckingham...

that it is meet so few should fetch the prince.

- And so say I. - Then be it so...

and go we to determine who they shall be...

that straight shall post to Ludlow.

Madam, and you, my mother, will you go to give your censures in this business?

With all our hearts.

My lord...

whoeverjourneys to the prince, for God's sake, let not us two stay behind.

For by the way I'll sort occasion...

as index to the story we late talked on...

to part the queen's proud kindred from the prince.

My other self...

my counsel's consistory...

my oracle, my prophet.

My dear cousin...

I, like a child, will go by thy direction.

Towards Ludlow then...

for we'll not stay behind.

Last night, I hear, they lay at Northampton.

At Stony-Stratford will they be tonight.

Tomorrow, or next day, they will be here.

I long with all my heart to see the prince.

I hope he is much grown since last I saw him.

But I hear no. They say my son of York hath almost overta'en him in his growth.

Aye, Mother, but I would not have it so.

Why, my young grandson, it is good to grow.

Grandam, one night as we did sit at supper...

my uncle Rivers talked how I did grow...

more than my brother.

“Aye,” quoth my uncle Gloucester...

“Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace.”

Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast...

that he could gnaw a crust at two hours old.

'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth.

A parlous boy. Go to, you are too shrewd.

Good madam, be not angry with the child.

Pitchers have ears.

[ Shouts ] Where is the queen?

- Where is Her Majesty? - She is above, my lord.

Here comes your kinsman Marquess Dorset.

- What news, Lord Marquess? - Such news, my lord, as grieves me to unfold.

- How fares the prince? - Well, madam, and in health.

What is thy news, then?

Madam, your brothers, Lord Rivers... and Lord Grey...

are sent to Pomfret...

prisoners.

Who hath committed them?

The mighty dukes Gloucester and Buckingham.

For what offense?

The sum of all I can, I have disclosed.

Why, or for what, our kinsmen are committed...

is all unknown to me, my gracious lady.

Ay me, I see the downfall of our house.

The tiger now hath seized the gentle hind.

Accursed and unquiet wrangling days...

how many of you have mine eyes beheld.

My husband lost his life to get the crown...

and often up and down my sons were tossed...

for me to joy or weep their gain and loss.

Blood against blood...

self against self.

O let me die, to look on death no more.

Come, come, my boy.

We will to sanctuary.

- Madam, farewell. - I'll go with you.

You have no cause.

My gracious lady, go, and thither bear your treasure and your goods.

For my part, I'll resign unto Your Grace the seal I keep...

and so betide to me as well I tender you and all of yours.

Come, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary.

[Dinging]

[Archbishop Speaking Latin]

- [All Respond In Latin] - [Continues In Latin]

Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber.

Welcome, dear cousin...

my thoughts' sovereign.

Ah, the weary way hath made you melancholy.

No, Uncle, but our crosses 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...

hath not yet dived into the world's deceit.

No more can you distinguish of a man than of his outward show...

which, God he knows, seldom or never...

jumpeth with the heart.

Those uncles which you want...

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.

Hmm. Sir, my Lord Archbishop comes to greet you.

The mayor of London waits upon Your Grace.

God bless Your Grace with health and happy clays.

I thank you, good my lord, and thank you all.

I thought my mother and my brother York...

would long ere this have met us on the way.

Fie, what a slug is Hastings...

that he comes not to tell us whether they will come or no.

And in good time here comes the sweating lord.

And the Lord Stanley with him.

Welcome, my lord. What, will our mother come?

On what occasion, God he knows, not I...

the queen your mother and your brother York have taken sanctuary.

The tender prince would fain have come with me to meet Your Grace...

but by his mother was perforce withheld.

Fie, what indirect and peevish course is this of hers.

My Lord Archbishop...

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 herjealous arms pluck him perforce.

My lord of Buckingham...

if my weak oratory can from his mother win the duke of York...

anon expect him here.

But if she be obdurate to mild entreaties...

God in heaven forbid we should infringe 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 but with the grossness of this age, you break not sanctuary in seizing him.

The benefit thereof is always granted...

to those whose dealings have deserved the place...

and those that have the wit to claim the place.

This prince hath neither claimed it nor deserved it.

And therefore, in my opinion, cannot have it.

Oft have I heard of sanctuary men...

but sanctuary children - huh! -

ne'er till now.

[All Laughing]

Milord, you shall o'errule my mind for once.

Come on, Lord Hastings, will you go with me?

I go, my lord. Lord Stanley, will you come?

Good lords, make all the speedy haste you may.

Catesby, Ratcliffe, Lovel, go with them.

[Sighs]

[Buckingham Laughs]

The mayor towards Guildhall hies him in all haste.

There tomorrow, at your meetest vantage of the time...

infer the bastardy of Edward's children.

Moreover, urge his hateful luxury...

and bestial appetite in change of lust...

which stretched unto their servants, daughters, wives...

even where his raging eye or savage heart, without control...

lusted to make his prey.

Say, Uncle Gloucester, if my brother come...

where shall we sojourn till our coronation?

Where it thinks best unto your royal self.

lfl may counsel you...

some day or two Your Highness shall repose you...

at the Tower.

Then where you please...

and shall be thought most fit for your best health and recreation.

I do not like the Tower...

of any place.

So wise so young, they say, do ne'er live long.

Didjulius Caesar build that place, milord?

He did, my gracious lord, begin that place.

Thatjulius Caesar was a famous man.

With what his valor did enrich his wit...

his wit set down to make his valor live.

Nay, for a need, thus far come near my person.

Tell them that when my mother was with child -

with my yet unborn brother -

noble York, my princely father...

then had wars in France...

and by true computation of the time...

found that the issue was not his begot...

which well appeared in his lineaments, being nothing like the duke, my noble father.

Yet, uh, touch this sparingly, as 'twere far off...

because, my lord, you know, my mother lives.

I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham.

- What, my gracious lord? - An if I live until I be a man...

I'll win our ancient rights in France again...

or die a soldier, as I lived a king.

Short summers lightly have a forward spring.

Fear not, my lord, I'll play the orator...

as if the golden fee for which I plead were for myself.

If you thrive well, bring them to Baynard's Castle...

where you shall find me well accompanied...

with reverend fathers and well-learned bishops.

Ah, in good time, here comes the duke of York.

Richard of York.

How fares our loving brother?

Well, my dread lord - so must I call you now.

Aye, Brother, to our grief, as it is yours.

How fares our noble cousin, princely York?

- [Giggles] - [ Laughing]

I thank you, gentle Uncle.

Oh, my lord, you said that idle weeds are fast in growth.

The prince my brother hath outgrown me far.

- He hath, milord. - And therefore is he idle?

- Oh, my dear lord, I must not say so. - Then he is more beholding to you than I.

Ah, he may command me as my sovereign...

but you have power in me as a kinsman.

I pray you, Uncle, give me this dagger.

My dagger, little cousin? With all my heart.

- A beggar, Brother? - Of my kind uncle, that I know will give...

and being but a toy, which is no grief to give.

A greater gift than that I'll give my cousin.

A greater gift? Oh, that's the sword to it.

- Too weighty for Your Grace to wear. - I weigh it lightly, were it heavier.

What, would you have my weapon, little lord?

I would, that I might thank you as you call me.

- How? - Little.

My lord of York will still be cross in talk.

Uncle, Your Grace knows how to bear with him.

You mean to bear me, not to bear with me.

- [All Chuckle] - Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me.

Because that I am little, like an ape...

he thinks that you should bear me on your shoulder!

With what a sharp-provided wit he reasons!

To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle, he prettily and aptly taunts himself.

So cunning and so young is wonderful.

My lord, will't please you pass along?

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 unto the Tower, my lord?

My Lord Protector needs will have it so.

I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower.

- Why, what should you fear? - Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost.

My grandam 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, and with heavy hearts...

thinking on them...

go we unto the Tower.

Well, let them rest.

Now, my lord, what shall we do...

if we perceive that the Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots?

Chop off his head, man.

Somewhat we will do.

Come hither, Catesby.

Thou art sworn as deeply to effect what we intend...

as closely to conceal what we impart.

Thou knowest our reasons urged upon the way.

What thinkest thou? Is it not an easy matter...

to make Lord Hastings of our mind...

for the installment of this noble duke in the seat royal of this famous isle?

He for the late king's sake so loves the prince...

that he will not be won to aught against him.

What think'st thou, then, of Stanley? What will he?

He will do all in all as Hastings doth.

Hmm.

Well, then, no more but this.

Go, gentle Catesby...

and, as it were far off, sound thou Lord Hastings...

how he stands affected unto our purpose...

and summon him tomorrow to the Tower...

to counsel on the coronation.

If thou dost find him tractable to us, encourage him and show him all our reasons.

If he be leaden, icy-cold, unwilling...

be thou so too, and so break off your talk...

and give us notice of his inclination.

I will, my lord. Farewell, Your Graces both.

Catesby...

commend me to Lord Hastings.

Tell him his ancient knot of dangerous adversaries...

Lord Rivers and Lord Grey...

tomorrow are let blood at Pomfret castle.

And bid my friend, forjoy of this good news...

give Mistress Shore one gentle kiss the more.

My lord.

[ Whispers ] My lord.

My lord.

- Who knocks? - One from the Lord Stanley.

- What is't o'clock? - Upon the stroke of 4:00.

Cannot my Lord Stanley sleep these tedious nights?

So it appears by that I have to say.

First, he commends him to your noble self.

- [Soft Rattle] - What then?

Then certifies your lordship that this night he had a dream -

the boar razed off his helm.

Therefore he sends to know your lordship's pleasure...

if you will presently take horse with him...

and with all speed post with him toward the north...

to shun the danger that his soul divines.

Go, fellow, go, return unto thy lord.

Tell him his fears are shallow, without instance.

And for his dreams, I wonder he's so simple...

to trust the mockery of unquiet slumbers.

To fly the boar before the boar pursues...

were 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 both together to the Tower...

where he shall see the boar will use us kindly.

I'll go, my lord, and tell him what you say.

How now, sirrah.

- How goes the world with thee? - The better that your lordship please to ask.

Many good morrows to my noble lord.

Good morrow, Catesby.

[ Chuckles ]

You are early stirring.

What news? What news, in this our tottering state?

It is a reeling world indeed, my lord.

And, uh...

I believe will never stand upright...

till Richard wear the garland of the realm.

- How? Wear the garland? - Mm-hmm.

- Dost thou mean the crown? - Aye, my good lord.

I'll have this crown of mine cut from my shoulders...

before I'll see the crown so foul misplaced.

But canst thou guess that he cloth aim at it?

Aye, on my life...

and hopes to find you forward upon his party for the gain thereof.

Thereupon he sends you this good news...

that this same very clay your enemies...

the kindred of the queen...

must die at Pomfret.

Indeed I am no mourner for that news.

But that I'll give my voice on Richard's side...

to bar my master's heirs in true descent-

God knows I will not do it...

to the death.

God keep your lordship in that gracious mind.

But I shall laugh at this a twelvemonth hence...

that they which brought me in my master's hate...

I live to look upon their tragedy.

Well, Catesby...

ere a fortnight make me older...

I'll send some packing that yet not think on't.

'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord...

when men are unprepared and look not for it.

Monstrous, monstrous.

And so falIs it out with Rivers...

and with Grey.

And so 'twill do with some men else...

who think themselves as safe as thou and I -

who, as thou know'st, are dear to princely Richard -

- [Clock Chimes] - And to Buckingham.

The princes both make high account of you.

For they account his head upon the Bridge.

I know they do, and I have well deserved it.

Come on, come on, where's your boar spear, man?

Fear you the boar and go so unprovided?

- My lord, good morrow. - Good morrow, Catesby.

You may jest on, but by the holy rood, the lords at Pomfret...

when they rode from London were jocund and supposed their states were sure...

and they indeed had no cause to mistrust.

And yet you see how soon the day o'ercast.

My lord, I hold my life as dear as yours...

and never in my days, I do protest...

was it so precious to me as 'tis now.

- Good morrow, mistress. - Good morrow, my lord.

Think you, but that I know our state secure...

I would be so triumphant as I am?

This sudden stab of rancor I misdoubt.

Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward.

But come, my lord. Shall we to the Tower?

Go you before. I'll follow presently.

Well met, my lord. lam glad to see Your Honor.

I thank thee, reverend sir, with all my heart.

I am in your debt for your last exercise.

Come the next Sabbath, and I will content you.

What, talking with a priest, Lord Chamberlain?

Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the priest.

Your worship hath no shriving work in hand.

Good faith, and when I met this holy man, the men you talk of came into my mind.

What, go you toward the Tower?

I do, my lord, but long I cannot stay there. I shall return before your lordship thence.

Nay, like enough, for I stay dinner there.

- And supper, too, although thou know'st it not. - Hmm?

- [ Buckingham] Come, will you go? - I wait upon your lordship.

[Buckingham Laughs]

[ Bell Dinging]

My lords, at once, the cause why we are met...

is to determine of the coronation.

- [All ] Ah. - In God's name, say. When is the royal clay?

Are all things fitting for that royal time?

They are and want but nomination.

Tomorrow, then, I guess a happy time.

Who knows the Lord Protector's mind herein?

Who is most inward with the noble duke?

Why, you, milord, methinks should soonest know his mind.

We know each other's faces.

For our hearts, he knows no more of mine than I of yours.

Nor I no more of his...

- than you of mine. - [All Chuckle ]

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 noble lords, may name the time.

And in the duke's behalf I'll give my voice...

which I presume he'll take in gentle part.

- [All Chuckle ] - [Door Opens]

Now in good time, here comes the duke himself.

My noble lords and cousins all, good morrow. [Chuckling]

I have been long a sleeper...

but I trust my absence doth neglect no great design...

which by my presence might have been concluded.

Had you not come upon your cue, my lord...

William Lord Hastings had now pronounced your part -

I mean, your voice - for crowning of the king.

[Chuckles] Than my Lord Hastings no man might be bolder.

- I thank Your Grace. - His lordship knows me well...

and loves me well.

Hmm.

Ah, the crowning of the king. My Lord Archbishop.

Milord?

When I was last in Lambeth, I saw good strawberries in your garden there.

I do beseech you send for some of them.

Marry, and will, my lord, with all my heart.

Cousin of Buckingham, a word with you.

Catesby hath sounded Hastings on our business...

and finds the testy gentleman so hot...

that he will lose his head ere give consent...

his master's son, as worshipful he terms it...

shall lose the royalty of England's throne.

When I am king...

claim thou of me the earldom of Hereford...

and all the movables...

whereof the king my brother was possessed, hmm?

I'll claim that promise at Your Grace's hands.

And look to have it yielded with all willingness.

[ Chuckles ]

Where is our Lord Protector?

I have sent for these strawberries.

We have not yet set down this day of triumph.

Tomorrow, in mine opinion, is too sudden...

for I myself am not so well provided as else I might be were the day prolonged.

His Grace looks cheerfully and smooth today.

There's some conceit or other likes him well...

when he doth bid good morrow with such a spirit.

I think there's never a man in Christendom...

that can lesser hide his love...

or hate than he...

for by his look straight shall you know his heart.

What of his heart perceived you in his face...

by any likelihood he showed today?

Marry, that with no man here he is offended...

for if he were, he would have shown it in his looks.

[ Door Opens ]

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 noble presence to doom the offenders.

Whosoe'er they be, I say they have deserved death.

Then be your eyes the witness of their evil.

Look how I am bewitched!

Behold, mine arm is like a blasted sapling, withered up.

And this is Edward's wife, that monstrous witch...

consorted with that harlot strumpet Shore...

that by their witchcraft thus have marked me.

If they have done this thing, my gracious lord -

If!

Thou protector of this damned strumpet...

talk'st thou to me of ifs?

Thou art a traitor!

Off with his head!

Now, by Saint Paul I swear, I shall not dine until I see the same.

Catesby, Ratcliffe, Lovel, see it done. The rest that love me...

rise...

and follow me!

I never looked for better at his hands...

after he once fell in with Mistress Shore.

Woe, woe for England.

Not a whit for me, for I, too fond, might have prevented this.

Stanley did dream the boar chopped off his head...

but I disdained it and did scorn to fly.

Three times today my footcloth horse did stumble...

and started when he looked upon the Tower...

as loath to bear me to the slaughterhouse.

Oh...

now I want the priest that spake to me.

Dispatch, my lord. The duke would be at dinner.

Make a short shrift. He longs to see your head.

Hmm.

The cat...

the rat...

and Lovel the dog...

rule all England under the hog.

Come, come, dispatch. 'Tis bootless to exclaim.

Hmm.

Come, lead me to the block, bear him my head.

They smile at me that shortly shall be dead.

[ Carriage Approaching ]

Well, well...

that was the sliest, sheltered traitor that ever lived.

Would you have imagined, my good Lord Mayor...

were't not, by great preservation...

we live to tell it you...

the subtle traitor this day had plotted in the council house...

to murder me and my good lord of Gloucester?

What, had he so?

So smooth he daubed his vice with show of virtue...

that, his apparent open guilt apart-

I mean, his conversation with Shore's wife -

his life was free from all suspicion.

Now fair befall you. He deserved his death.

And you, my good lords, both have well proceeded...

to warn false traitors from the like attempts.

I never looked for better at his hands after he once fell in with Mistress Shore.

Yet had not we determined he should die until your lordship came to see his end...

which now the loving haste of these our friends...

somewhat against our meaning, have prevented.

Because, my lord, we would have had you hear the traitor speak...

and timorously confess the manner and the purpose of his treason...

that you might well have signified the same unto the citizens...

who haply may misconstrue us in him and wail his death.

But, my good lord, Your Grace's word shall serve...

as well as I had seen and heard him speak.

And doubt you not but I'll acquaint our duteous citizens...

with all your just proceedings in this case.

[ Buckingham ] And to that end we wished your worship here...

to avoid the carping censures of the world.

But since you come too late of our intents...

yet witness what we did intend.

And so, my lord, I will be with thee straight.

[ Man] Come, all good citizens, draw near...

and to your good Lord Mayor...

lend generous ear.

[All Chattering]

[Bell Dings 1

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? - I did...

with his contract with Mistress Shore...

and his contract by deputy in France -

the insatiate greediness of his desires...

and his enforcement of the city wives -

his tyranny for trifles -

his own bastardy, as being got...

your father then in France...

and his resemblance being not like the duke.

Withal I did infer your lineaments, being the right idea of your father...

both in your form...

and nobleness of mind -

laid open all your victories in Scotland...

your discipline in war, wisdom in peace...

your bounty, virtues, fair humility -

indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose untouched...

or slightly handled in discourse.

And when my oratory drew toward end...

I bade 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 spake not a word.

But like dumb statues or breathing stones...

stared each on other and looked deadly pale.

Which when I saw, I reprehended them...

and asked the mayor what meant this willful silence.

His answer was, the people were not used to be spoke to but by the recorder.

Then he was urged to tell my tale again -

“Thus saith the duke, thus hath the duke inferred” -

but nothing spoke in warrant from himself.

When he had done, some followers of mine own...

at lower end of the hall, hurled up their caps...

and some 10 voices cried, “God save King Richard!”

And thus I took the vantage of those few...

"Thanks, gentle citizens and friends,” quoth I...

“This general applause and cheerful shout...

argues your wisdom and your love to Richard.”

And even here brake off and came away.

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.

Be not you spoke with but by mighty suit.

Play the maid's part- say no, but take it.

Fear me not. 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 issue.

You shall see what I can do. Get you up to the leads.

[ Crowd Chattering ]

Now, my Lord Mayor, I dance attendance here.

I think His Grace will not be spoke withal.

Now, Catesby, what says your lord to my request?

He doth entreat Your Grace, my noble lord...

to visit him tomorrow or next clay.

He is within, with two right reverend fathers...

divinely bent to meditation...

and in no worldly suit should he be moved...

to draw him from his holy exercise.

Return, good Catesby, to the gracious duke.

Tell him, myself, the mayor and citizens...

in deep designs in matter of great moment...

no less importing than our general good...

are come to have some conference with His Grace.

- “General good.” - I'll signify so much unto him straight.

Ah, ha, my lord, this prince is not an Edward.

He is 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.

- Two deep divines. - Not sleeping, to engross his idle body...

but praying, to enrich his watchful soul.

Happy were England would this gracious prince...

take on himself the sovereignty thereof.

But sure, I fear we shall not win him to it.

Marry, God defend His Grace should say us nay.

I fear he will. Here Catesby comes again.

Now, Catesby, 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.

- Oh. - Sorry I am my noble cousin should suspect me...

that I 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 are at their beads...

- 'Us much to draw them thence... - [ Men Chanting In Latin]

so sweet is zealous contemplation.

See where His Grace comes? Between two clergymen.

Ahh!

- [Latin Continues] - Two props of virtue for a Christian prince...

to stay him from the fall of vanity.

And see, a book of prayer in his hand...

true ornament to know a holy man.

Famous Plantagenet, most gracious prince...

lend favorable ear to our request...

and pardon us the interruption...

of thy devotion and right Christian zeal.

My lord, there needs no such apology.

I do perceive I have done some offense...

which seems disgracious in the city's eye...

and that you come to reprehend my ignorance.

You have, my lord. Would it would please Your Grace...

on our entreaties, to amend your fault.

Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land?

Know then, it is your fault that you resign...

the supreme seat, the throne majestical...

the sceptered office of your ancestors...

to the corruption of a blemished stock.

The which to cure we heartily 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 heritage, your own.

For this, consorted with the citizens...

your very worshipful and loving friends...

and by their vehement instigation -

- Hurrah! -[All] Hurrah!

In this just cause come I to move Your Grace.

I cannot tell if to depart in silence...

or bitterly to speak in your reproof.

Your love deserves my thanks...

but my desert unmeritable shuns your high request.

But God be thanked, there is no need of me.

The royal tree hath left us royal fruit...

which, mellowed with the stealing hours of time...

will well become the seat of majesty...

and make, no doubt, us happy by his reign.

On him I lay that you would lay on me -

the right and fortune of his happy stars...

which God defend that I should wring from him.

- [Crowd Murmuring] - My lord...

this argues conscience in Your Grace.

You say that Edward is your brother's son.

So say we too, but not by Edward's wife.

Then, good my lord, take to your royal self...

this proffered benefit of dignity.

[ Mayor] Do, good my lord. Your citizens entreat you.

[Buckingham] Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffered love.

[Catesby] Oh, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit.

I do beseech you, take it not amiss - I cannot nor I will not yield to you.

Yet whether you accept our suit or no...

your brother's son shall never reign our king...

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. 'Zounds! I'll entreat no more.

Oh, do not swear, my lord -

Call them again, sweet prince, accept their suit.

If you deny them, all the land will rue it.

Would you enforce me to a world of cares?

- Call them again. - Call them again!

Call them again!

[All Chattering]

[Chattering Subsides]

Cousin of Buckingham...

and sage, grave men...

since that you will buckle fortune on my back...

to bear her burthen, whether I will or no...

I must have patience to endure the load.

But God doth know, and you may partly see...

how far I am from the desire of this.

God bless Your Grace. We see it and will say it.

- [All ] Aye. - Then I salute you with this royal title -

Long live Richard, England's worthy king!

[All ] Long live Richard, England's worthy king!

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 mostjoyfully we take our leave.

- [All Cheering] - Come, let us to our holy work again.

Farewell, my cousin. Farewell, gentle friends.

[ Bell Tolling ]

[ Bell Clangs]

[Clanging]

[ Clanging Continues ]

[ Clanging Continues ]

[Pealing]

[ Pealing Continues ]

[ Pealing Continues ]

Come, madam, come.

You must straight to Westminster...

there to be crowned Richard's royal queen.

Oh, would to God that the inclusive verge...

of golden metal that must round my brow...

were red-hot steel, to sear me to the brain.

Anointed let me be with deadly venom...

and die ere men can say God save the queen.

Go, go, poor soul.

I envy not thy glory.

To feed my humor, wish thyself no harm.

No? Why?

When he that is my husband now...

came to me as I followed Edward's corse...

when scarce the blood was well washed from his hands...

which issued from my other angel husband...

within so small a time...

my woman's heart...

grossly grew captive to his honey words.

And never yet one hour in his bed...

did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep...

but have been wakened by his timorous dreams.

Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick...

and will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.

Be of good cheer. Madam, how fares Your Grace?

Oh, Dorset, speak not to me, get thee gone.

Death and destruction dog thee at thy heels.

Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughterhouse...

lest thou increase the number of the dead.

Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.

Take all the swift advantage of the hours.

In Brittany, my stepson Earl of Richmond doth reside...

who with ajealous eye doth still observe the lawless actions of aspiring Gloucester.

If thou wilt outstrip death...

go cross the seas and live with Richmond from the reach of hell.

You shall have letters from me to my own son George on your behalf...

to meet you on the way.

Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.

Come, madam, come. I in all haste was sent.

And I with all unwillingness will go.

Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee.

Go thou to Richmond...

and good fortune guide thee.

Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee.

I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me.

Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes...

whom envy hath immured within your walls.

Rough cradle for such little pretty ones.

Rude ragged nurse...

old sullen playfellow for tender princes...

use my babies well.

So...

foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell.

God save King Richard!

Long live King Richard!

May the king live forever!

Stand all apart!

Cousin of Buckingham. [Chuckles]

Give me thy hand.

My gracious sovereign.

Thus high, by thy advice and thy assistance...

is King Richard seated.

But shall we wear these glories for a clay?

Or shall they live and we rejoice in them?

Still live they, and for ever let them last.

Buckingham, now do I play the touch, to try if thou be current gold indeed.

Thou know'st young Edward and his brother lives.

Think now what I would speak, hmm?

Say on, my loving lord.

- Why, Buckingham, I say, I would be king. - Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned lord.

[Chuckles] Am I king?

"Us so...

but Edward lives.

True, noble prince.

Cousin, thou was not wont to be so dull.

“True, noble prince.” Shall I be plain?

I wish the bastards dead, and I would have it suddenly performed.

What sayest thou now? Speak suddenly, be brief.

- Your Grace may do your pleasure. - Tut, tut, tut, thou art all ice...

thy kindness freezes.

Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?

Give me some little breath, some pause, dear lord...

before I positively speak in this.

I will resolve you herein presently.

High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect.

The king is angry. See, he gnaws his lip.

- Catesby. - My lord?

Knowest thou not any whom corrupting gold...

will tempt unto a close exploit of death?

I know a discontented gentleman whose humble means match not his haughty spirits.

Gold were as good as 20 orators and will, no doubt, tempt him to anything.

- What is his name? - His name, my lord, is Tyrrell.

I partly know the man. Go, call him hither.

The deep-revolving witty Buckingham...

no more shall be the neighbor to my counsels.

Hath he so long held out with me untired...

and stops he now for breath?

Well...

be it so.

How now, Lord Stanley?

What's the news?

The marquess of Dorset, as I hear, is fled...

to Richmond.

Come hither, Catesby.

Rumor it abroad that Anne, my wife...

is very grievous sick.

I will take order for her keeping close.

Look how thou dream'st. I say again...

give out that Anne my queen is sick and like to die. About it.

I must marry...

Brother Edward's daughter...

or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass.

Murder her brothers, and then marry her.

Familiar way of gain.

But I am in so far in blood...

that sin will pluck on sin.

Tear-falling pity...

dwells not in this eye.

My lord, I have considered in my mind...

the late demand that you did sound me in.

Well, let that rest. [Clears Throat]

Uh, Dorset is fled to Richmond.

I hear the news, my lord.

Stanley, Richmond is your wife's son.

Well, look unto it.

My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise...

for which your honor and your faith is pawned.

The earldom of Hereford and the movables which you have promised I shall possess.

Stanley, look to your wife.

If she convey letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.

Most mighty sovereign, you have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful.

I never was nor never will be false.

Well, go muster men.

But hear you, leave behind your son...

George Stanley.

Look your heart be firm, or else his head's assurance is but frail.

So deal with him...

as I prove true to you.

What says Your Highness to myjust request?

I do remember me...

Henry the Sixth did prophesy that Richmond should be king...

when Richmond was a little peevish boy.

A king...

Perhapg

My lord.

How chance the prophet could not have told me, I being by...

that I should kill him?

My lord, your promise for the earldom -

Richmond.

A bard of Ireland told me once I should not live long...

after I saw Richmond.

My lord.

Aye, what's o'clock?

I am thus bold to put Your Grace in mind of what you promised me.

Well, but what's o'clock?

- Upon the stroke of 10:00. - Then let it strike!

Why let it strike?

Because that, like ajack, thou keep'st the stroke...

betwixt thy begging and my meditation.

- Is thy name Tyrrell? -james Tyrrell, and your most obedient subject.

- Art thou, indeed? - Prove me, my gracious lord.

I'm not in the giving vein today.

Why, then resolve me whether you will or no.

Thou troublest me.

I'm not in the vein.

And is it thus?

Repays he my deep services with such contempt?

Made I him king for this?

Oh, let me think on Hastings...

and be gone to Richmond while my fearful head is on.

Darest thou resolve...

to kill...

a friend of mine?

Please you, but I'd rather kill two enemies.

Why, then thou hast 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 fear of them.

[Sighs]

Thou sing'st sweet music.

Hark, come hither, Tyrrell.

Go, by this token.

Rise, and lend thine ear.

[Gasps]

[ Richard, Muffled] There is no more but so.

Say it is done...

and I will love thee...

and prefer thee for it.

[Tyrrell] I will dispatch it straight.

[ Tyrrell's Voice] “O, thus," quoth Dighton, “lay the gentle babes."

“Thus, thus,” quoth Forrest...

“girdling one another within their alabaster innocent arms.

“Their lips were four red roses on a stalk...

“that in their summer beauty kissed each other.

“A book of prayers on their pillow lay...

which once,” quoth Forrest, “almost changed my mind.

But, oh, the devil!”

“We smothered...

“the most replenished sweet work of nature...

“that from the prime creation...

e-'er she framed "

Good Buckingham, tell Richmond this from me -

that in the sty of this most bloody boar...

my son George Stanley is franked up in hold.

If I revolt, off goes young George's head.

The fear of that withholds my present aid.

Commend me to my princely Richmond.

Tell him the queen hath heartily consented...

he shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter.

These letters will resolve him of my mind.

Farewell, my noble Stanley.

The son of Clarence have I pent up close...

his daughter meanly have I matched in marriage...

the sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom...

and Anne my wife hath bid this world good night.

Now, for I know the Tudor Richmond...

aims at young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter...

and, by that knot, looks proudly on the crown...

to her go I...

- a jolly thriving wooer. - [Footsteps Approaching ]

- [ Catesby] My lord! - Good news or bad, that thou com'st in so bluntly?

Bad news, my lord. Buckingham is fled to Richmond.

Come, muster men. My counsel is my shield.

We must be brief when traitors brave the field.

- How now! What news? - My gracious sovereign...

on the western coast rideth a puissant navy.

To the shore throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends...

unarmed and unresolved to beat them back.

'Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral, and there they hull...

expecting but the aid of Buckingham to welcome them ashore.

Some light-foot friend post to the duke of Norfolk. Ratcliffe, thyself, or Catesby.

- Where is he? - Here, my lord. - Catesby, fly to the duke.

Go thou to Salisbury. When thou comest thither -

Dull, unmindful villain, why stayest thou here, and go'st not to the duke?

First, mighty sovereign, let me know your mind, what from Your Grace I shall deliver to him.

True, good Catesby, bid him levy straight the greatest strength and power he can make...

and meet me presently at Salisbury.

- I go. - What is't Your Highness' pleasure I shall do at Salisbury?

- What wouldst thou do there before I go? - Your Highness told me I should post before.

My mind is changed, sir, my mind is changed. Ah, Stanley.

What's the news with you?

None good, my lord, to please you with the hearing...

nor none so bad it may not well be told.

Heyday, a riddle. Neither good nor bad.

What need'st thou run so many miles about, when thou mayst tell thy tale the nearest way?

- Once more, what news? - Richmond is on the seas.

There let him sink, and be the seas on him! White-livered runagate, what makes he there?

- I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess. - Well...

as you guess?

Stirred up by Dorset, Buckingham and the Welsh...

he makes for England, there to... claim...

the crown.

Is the chair empty? ls the sword unswayed?

Is the king dead? The 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 makes he upon the seas? - Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.

Unless for that he comes to be your/iege, you cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes.

- Thou wilt revolt and fly to him, I fear. - No, mighty liege, therefore mistrust me not.

Where is thy power, then, to beat him back? Where be thy tenants and thy followers?

Are they not now 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 sovereign!

Please it 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 wilt be gone to join with Richmond.

Forget not thy son George. I will not trust you, sir.

My gracious sovereign...

now in Devonshire, as I by friends am well advised...

Sir William Courtney and the haughty prelate, Bishop of Exeter, his brother there...

with many more confederates, are in arms!

My liege, in Kent the Guildfords are in arms...

and every hour more confederates flock to their aid, and still their power increaseth.

Sir Thomas Urswick and Lord Marquess Dorset, 'tis said, my liege, are up in arms!

- My lord, the army of great Buckingham - - Out on you, owls!

Nothing but songs of death! There, take thou that till thou bring better news!

Your Grace mistakes. The news I bring is good.

My news is that through sudden flood and fall of water...

the duke of Buckingham's army is dispersed and scattered...

and he himself wandered away alone, no man knows whither.

I cry you mercy that I did mistake. Hath any well-advised friend proclaimed...

reward to him that brings in Buckingham?

- Such proclamation hath been made, my liege. - [ Catesby] My liege!

The duke of Buckingham is taken!

Off with his head.

So much for Buckingham.

That is the best news.

That Henry Tudor, earl of Richmond, is with a mighty power landed at Milford...

is colder tidings, yet they must be told.

Away towards Salisbury!

While we reason here, a royal battle might be won and lost.

Ratcliffe, take order Buckingham be brought to Salisbury. The rest march on with me!

Then fiery expedition be my wing...

jove's Mercury and herald for a king!

[ Richard] Here... pitch our tents...

even here... in Bosworth field.

Why, how now, Catesby? Why look you so sad?

My heart is 10 times lighter than my looks.

- My lord of Norfolk? - Here, most gracious liege.

Norfolk, we must have knocks. Ha! Must we not?

- We must both give and take, my gracious lord. - [ Richard Laughs]

Up with my tent. Here will I lie tonight.

But where tomorrow?

Well, all's one for that. Who hath descried the number of the foe?

Six or seven thousand is their greatest number.

Why, our battalion trebles that account.

Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength...

which they upon the adverse faction want.

Up with my tent. There!

Come hither, Lovel.

Where is Lord Stanley quartered, dost thou know?

Unless I have mista'en his colors much, his regiment lies halfa mile at least...

to northward of our power, milord.

Send to him, good Lovel. Bid him bring his power before sunrising...

lest his son George fall into the blind cave of eternal night.

Come, valiant gentlemen...

let us survey the vantage of the ground.

Let's want no discipline, make no delay...

for, sirs, tomorrow is a busy day.

My lord of Stanley, the king cloth strain a charge...

that if you value your son George's life...

you do present your host before the crowing of the cock.

Fortune and victory sit on thy helm.

All comfort that the dark hour can afford be to thy person...

noble stepfather.

Tell me, how fares our loving mother?

I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother...

who prays continually for Richmond's good.

So much for that.

The silent hours steal on.

In brief, for so the season bids us be...

prepare thy battle early in the morning.

I, as I may, with best advantage will deceive the time...

and aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms.

But on thy side I may not be too forward...

lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George...

be executed in his father's sight.

Farewell.

The leisure and the fearful time cuts off the ceremonious vows of love...

which so long sundered friends should dwell upon.

God grant us leisure for these rites of love.

Once more, adieu.

Be valiant and speed well.

Good lords, conduct him to his regiment.

What is't o'clock?

'Tis suppertime, my lord. 'Tis nine o'clock.

Hmm. I will not sup tonight.

Give me some ink and paper.

What, is my helmet easier than it was...

and all my armor laid into my tent?

It is, my liege, and all things are in readiness.

Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge.

Choose careful watch, use trusty sentinels.

I go, my lord.

- Good night, good Lovel. - Milord.

Stir with the lark tomorrow, gentle Norfolk.

I warrant you, my lord.

[Dogs Barking In Distance]

- Catesby. - My lord?

Fill me a bowl of wine.

Give me a watch.

Saddle white Surrey for the field tomorrow.

Look that my staves be sound, but not too heavy.

Oh, Ratcliffe.

- My lord? - Saw you the melancholy Lord Northumberland?

Thomas the earl of Suffolk, and himself, much about cockshut time...

from troop to troop went through the army, cheering up the soldiers.

[Chuckles] So, I'm satisfied.

Give me a bowl of wine.

I have not that alacrity of spirit...

nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have.

Set it down. ls ink and paper ready?

- It is, my lord. - Bid my guard watch. Leave me.

- Ratcliffe. - My lord?

About the mid of night come to my tent...

and help to arm me.

Leave me, I say.

♪♪ [ Flourish]

♪♪ [ Trumpet Flourish In Distance ]

♪♪ [Continues]

[Richmond] Once more good night unto you all.

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.

And so, once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen.

- Good night, good Richmond. - Good night.

♪♪ [ Trumpet Flourish ]

J)!' I Ends ]

O thou, whose captain I account myself...

look on my forces with a gracious eye.

Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath...

that we may crush down with a heavy fall...

the usurping helmet of our adversaries.

Make us thy ministers of chastisement...

that we may praise thee in thy victory.

To thee I do commend my watchful soul...

ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes.

Sleeping and waking...

oh, defend me still.

♪♪ [ Trumpet Flourish ]

- ♪♪ [ Ends] - [ Bell Tolling]

- ♪♪ [ Ends] - [ Bell Tolling]

[ Tolling Continues ]

[ Tolling Ends ]

[Whispering] Let me sit heavy in thy soul tomorrow.

I that was washed to death with fulsome wine...

poor Clarence...

by thy guile betrayed to death.

Tomorrow in the battle think on me...

and fall thy edgeless sword.

Despair and die!

[Whispering] Dream on thy cousins smothered in the Tower.

Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair and die.

[ Whispering ] Think on Lord Hastings.

Despair and die.

Richard, thy wife...

that wretched Anne thy wife...

that never slept a quiet hour with thee...

now fills thy sleep with perturbations.

Tomorrow in the battle think on me...

and fall thy edgeless sword.

Despair and die.

[Yelling]

[Yelling]

Give me another horse!

Bind up my wounds!

[ Richard ] Have mercy, jesu!

[ Rooster Crows]

[ Rooster Crows]

[Panting]

♪♪ [ Trumpet Flourish ]

My lord.

Who is there?

Ratcliffe, my lord. 'Tis I.

The early village cock hath twice clone salutation to the morn.

Your friends are up and buckle on their armor.

O Ratcliffe, I have dreamed a fearful dream.

What thinkest thou, will our friends prove all true?

No doubt, my lord.

O 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 10,000 soldiers...

armed in proof and led by shallow Richmond.

Tell the clock there.

Give me a calendar.

- Who saw the sun today? - Not I, my lord.

Then he disdains to shine...

for by the book he should have braved the east an hour ago.

A black day will it be...

to somebody.

- Catesby. - My lord.

The sun will not be seen today.

The sky doth frown and lower upon our army.

I would these dewy tears were from the ground.

Not shine today?

♪♪ [ Trumpet Flourish ]

Why, what is that to me more than to Richmond?

For the selfsame heaven that frowns on me...

looks sadly upon him. [ Laughs]

Arm, arm, my lord! The foe vaunts in the field.

♪♪ [ Drums In Distance ]

♪♪ [Drums Continue]

♪♪ [Drums Continue]

Come, bustle, bustle. Caparison my horse.

Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power.

I will lead forth my soldiers to the field...

and thus my battle shall be ordered.

My foreward 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 and Thomas Earl of Suffolk...

shall have the leading of this foot and horse.

They thus directed, we will follow in the main battle...

whose puissance on either side shall be well winged with our chiefest horse.

This, and Saint George to boot! What think'st thou, Norfolk?

- A good direction, warlike sovereign. - [Chuckles]

This found I on my tent this morning.

“Jockey of Norfolk...

“be not so bold...

“for Dickon thy master...

“is bought...

and sold.”

♪♪ [ Drums In Distance ]

A thing devised by the enemy.

My lord, the enemy are past the marsh.

♪♪ [ Trumpet Flourish In Distance ]

♪♪ [Drums Continue]

Go, noble gentleman, every man to his charge.

Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls...

for conscience is a word that cowards use...

devised at first to keep the strong in awe.

- Conscience avaunt! - Aye!

[Horses Whinny]

Richard's himself again.

♪♪ [Drums Continue]

- March on! - [ All Yell]

Join bravely, let us to it pell-mell.

If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.

- [All Yell ] - Fight, gentlemen of England!

Fight, bold yeomen!

Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!

- [All Yell ] - Spur your proud horses hard...

and ride in blood!

Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!

[All Yelling]

[ All Cheer]

What says Lord Stanley? Will he bring his power?

- My lord, he doth deny to come. - Off with his son George's head!

My lord, the time admits not such a course!

After the battle let George Stanley die.

[Distant Chattering, Yelling]

A thousand hearts are great within my bosom.

Advance our standards...

set upon our foes.

Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George...

inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!

Upon them! Victory sits in our helms!

[Horse Whinnies]

[ Men Yelling]

[Whinnies]

Rescue!

Rescue!

My lord of Norfolk, rescue!

The king enacts more wonders than a man, daring an opposite to every danger.

His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights...

seeking for Richmond in the throat of death.

Rescue, fair lord, or else the clay is lost.

[ Screams ]

[ Richard] A horse!

A horse!

My kingdom for a horse!

Withdraw, my lord.

I'll help you to a horse.

Slave, I have set my life upon a cast...

and I will stand the hazard of the die.

I think there be six Richmonds in the field.

Five have I slain today instead of him.

A horse!

A horse! My kingdom for a horse!

[ Richard Panting ]

[Panting]

[All Yelling]