London. A Street.
 Enter RICHARD Duke of Gloucester.

Richard	Now is the winter of our discontent
	Made glorious summer by this son of York;
	And all the clouds that loured upon our house
	In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
	Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths,
	Our bruisd arms hung up for monuments,
	Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
	Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
	Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front,
	And now, instead of mounting barbd steeds
	To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
	He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
	To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
	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, 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.
	And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover
	To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
	I am determined to prove a villain,
	And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
	Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
	By drunken prophecies, libels, 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,
	This day should Clarence closely be mewed up
	About a prophecy which says that G
	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 armd guard
	That waits upon your grace?

Clarence										His majesty,
	Tend'ring my person's safety, hath appointed
	This conduct to convey me to the Tower.

Richard	Upon what cause?

Clarence							Because my name is George.

Richard	Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours:
	He should for that commit your godfathers.
	O, belike his majesty hath some intent
	That you should be new-christened in the Tower.
	But what's the matter, Clarence, may I know?

Clarence	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 cross-row plucks the letter G,
	And says a wizard told him that by G
	His issue disinherited should be.
	And for my name of George begins with G,
	It follows in his thought that I am he.
	These, as I learn, and suchlike toys as these,
	Have moved his highness to commit me now.

Richard	Why, this it is when men are ruled by women:
	'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,
	Anthony Woodville, 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.

Clarence	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?

Richard	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'erworn widow and herself,
	Since that our brother dubbed them gentlewomen,
	Are mighty gossips in our monarchy.

Brakenbury	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 his brother.

Richard	Even so; - and please your worship, Brakenbury,
	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 not jealous.
	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?

Brakenbury	With this, my lord, myself have nought to do.

Richard	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.

Brakenbury	What one, my lord?

Richard	Her husband, knave. Wouldst thou betray me?

Brakenbury	I do beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal
	Forbear your conference with the noble duke.

Clarence	We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.

Richard	We are the queen's abjects, and must obey.
	Brother, farewell. I will unto the king;
	And whatsoe'er you will employ me in,
	- Were it to call King Edward's widow 'sister'-
	I will perform it to enfranchise you.
	Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood
	Touches me deeper than you can imagine.

Clarence	I know it pleaseth neither of us well.

Richard	Well, your imprisonment shall not be long:
	I will deliver you, or else lie for you.
	Meantime, have patience.

Clarence								I must, perforce. Farewell.
										 [Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY
														and GUARD.

Richard	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.
	But who comes here? The new-delivered Hastings?

                           Enter LORD HASTINGS.

Lord Hastings	Good time of day unto my gracious lord.

Richard	As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain;
	Well are you welcome to the open air.
	How hath your lordship brooked imprisonment?

Lord Hastings	With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must;
	But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks
	That were the cause of my imprisonment.

Richard	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.

Lord Hastings	More pity that the eagles should be mewed
	While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.

Richard	What news abroad?

Lord Hastings	No news so bad abroad as this at home:
	The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy,
	And his physicians fear him mightily.

Richard	Now, by Saint John, that news is bad indeed.
	O, he hath kept an evil diet long,
	And overmuch consumed his royal person.
	'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.
	Where is he? - in his bed?

Lord Hastings	He is.

Richard	Go you before, and I will follow you.
														[Exit LORD HASTINGS.
	He cannot live, I hope, and must not die
	Till George be packed with posthorse up to heaven.
	I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
	With lies well-steeled with weighty arguments;
	And if I fail not in my deep intent,
	Clarence hath not another day to live;
	Which done, God take King Edward to His mercy,
	And leave the world for me to bustle in.
	For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter-
	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.
	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.
														[Exit.
