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Act 3, Scene 7
Richard III Translation Act 4, Scene 1
Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, DUCHESS of York, and DORSET at one door; ANNE, duchess of Gloucester with CLARENCE’s young daughter at another door
DUCHESS
Who meets us here? My niece Plantagenet Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester? Now, for my life, she’s wandering to the Tower, On pure heart’s love, to greet the tender prince.— Daughter, well met.
DUCHESS
Who is this? My granddaughter Plantagenet, led by the hand of her kind aunt, the Duchess of Gloucester? Now, I swear, she's heading to the Tower to greet the young prince, whom she loves so purely.
[To ANNE] Nice to see you, daughter-in-law.
ANNE
God give your Graces bothA happy and a joyful time of day.
ANNE
May God grant both of you a nice day.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
As much to you, good sister. Whither away?
QUEEN ELIZABETH
And you too, good sister-in-law. Where are you off to?
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ANNE
No farther than the Tower, and, as I guess,Upon the like devotion as yourselves, To gratulate the gentle princes there.
ANNE
Just to the Tower. And I can guess that I'm going for the same reason you are: to greet the gentle princes who are staying there.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Kind sister, thanks. We’ll enter all together.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Kind sister-in-law, thanks. We'll all go together.
Enter BRAKENBURY
And in good time here the lieutenant comes.—Master Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,How doth the prince and my young son of York?
And here comes the lieutenant, right on time.
[To BRAKENBURY] Master Lieutenant, please tell us, how are the prince and my young son of York?
BRAKENBURY
Right well, dear madam. By your patience,I may not suffer you to visit them.The king hath strictly charged the contrary.
BRAKENBURY
They are well, dear madam. But if you'll pardon me, I'm not allowed to let you visit them. The king has strictly forbidden it.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
The king? Who’s that?
QUEEN ELIZABETH
The king? Who's that?
BRAKENBURY
I mean, the Lord Protector.
BRAKENBURY
I mean the Lord Protector.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
The Lord protect him from that kingly title! Hath he set bounds between their love and me?I am their mother. Who shall bar me from them?
QUEEN ELIZABETH
And may the Lord protect the crown from him! Is he trying to set up barriers between my children and me? I am their mother. Who will forbid me from seeing them?
DUCHESS
I am their father’s mother. I will see them.
DUCHESS
I am their father's mother. I will see them.
ANNE
Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother.Then bring me to their sights. I’ll bear thy blame And take thy office from thee, on my peril.
ANNE
I am their aunt by marriage, but I love them like a mother. Bring me to see them. I'll take your office upon myself, Lieutenant—and take all the blame as well.
BRAKENBURY
No, madam, no. I may not leave it so.I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.
BRAKENBURY
No, madam, no. I cannot do that. I am bound by oath, so you must forgive me.
Exit
Enter Lord STANLEY, earl of Derby
STANLEY
Let me but meet you ladies one hour hence, And I’ll salute your Grace of York as mother And reverend looker-on, of two fair queens. [to ANNE] Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster, There to be crownèd Richard’s royal queen.
STANLEY
If I were greeting you ladies again in just an hour, I would be saluting you, Duchess of York, as the mother of two fair queens.
[To ANNE] Come, madam, you must go to Westminster Abbey right away, where you'll be crowned Richard's royal queen.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Ah, cut my lace asunder that my pent heart May have some scope to beat, or else I swoon With this dead-killing news!
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Oh, cut my dress open so that my constrained heart can have some room to beat, or else I'll faint from this deadly news!
ANNE
Despiteful tidings! O, unpleasing news!
ANNE
Cruel tidings! Oh, unhappy news!
DORSET
[to QUEEN ELIZABETH] Be of good cheer, mother. How fares your Grace?
DORSET
[To QUEEN ELIZABETH] Cheer up, mother. How are you feeling?
QUEEN ELIZABETH
O Dorset, speak not to me. Get thee gone. Death and destruction dogs thee at thy heels. Thy mother’s name is ominous to children. If thou wilt outstrip death, go, cross the seas, And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell. Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughterhouse, Lest thou increase the number of the dead And make me die the thrall of Margaret’s curse, Nor mother, wife, nor England’s counted queen.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Oh Dorset, don't speak to me. Leave immediately. Death and destruction are snapping at your heels. Your mother's name has become a bad omen. If you want to outrun death, then go. Cross the seas to France, and live with Richmond, out of the reach of hell. Go, run away. Run away from this slaughterhouse, before you end up a body increasing the number of the dead, and make me die the slave of Margaret's curse—neither wife, nor mother, nor England's queen.
STANLEY
Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam. [to DORSET] Take all the swift advantage of the hours.You shall have letters from me to my son In your behalf, to meet you on the way.Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.
STANLEY
Madam, your advice is full of wisdom and caring.
[To DORSET] Make full use of the time. I'll write a letter to my stepson Richmond on your behalf, so he'll meet you on the way. But don't be caught delaying.
DUCHESS
O ill-dispersing wind of misery!O my accursèd womb, the bed of death!A cockatrice hast thou hatched to the world, Whose unavoided eye is murderous.
DUCHESS
Oh, this wind of misery, scattering misfortunes everywhere! Oh, my accursed womb, the bed of death! It has unleashed a basilisk onto the world, a monster whose very look is murderous!
STANLEY
[to ANNE] Come, madam, come. I in all haste was sent.
STANLEY
[To ANNE] Come, madam, come. I was sent in a great hurry.
ANNE
And I in all unwillingness will go. O, would to God that the inclusive verge Of golden metal that must round my brow Were red-hot steel to sear me to the brains! Anointed let me be with deadly venom, And die ere men can say, “God save the Queen.”
ANNE
And with great unwillingness I'll go. Oh, I wish to God that the golden crown I must wear would turn to red-hot steel, and burn my skull to the brains! Let me be anointed with deadly venom instead of holy oil, so I can die before anyone manages to say, "God save the Queen!"
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory.To feed my humor, wish thyself no harm.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Go, go, poor soul. I don't envy your new throne. But make me happy by not wishing harm on yourself.
ANNE
No? Why? When he that is my husband now Came to me, as I followed Henry’s corse, When scarce the blood was well washed from his hands Which issued from my other angel husband And that dear saint which then I weeping followed— O, when, I say, I looked on Richard’s face, This was my wish: be thou, quoth I, accursed For making me, so young, so old a widow; And, when thou wedd’st, let sorrow haunt thy bed; And be thy wife, if any be so mad, More miserable by the life of thee Than thou hast made me by my dear lord’s death. Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again, Within so small a time my woman’s heart Grossly grew captive to his honey words And proved the subject of mine own soul’s curse, Which hitherto hath held my eyes from rest, For never yet one hour in his bed Did I enjoyed the golden dew of sleep, But with his timorous dreams was still awaked. Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick, And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
ANNE
No? Why not? Richard—who is now my husband—first came to me when he'd hardly washed all the blood off his hands from killing both my first, angelic husband and my husband's father—that dear saint Henry—whose corpse I was tearfully following. Oh, I tell you, when I looked at Richard's face then, my only wish was this: "May you be cursed for making me a widow so young. When you get married, let sorrow haunt your bed, and may your wife—if any woman is crazy enough to marry you—be made more miserable by your life than you've made me by my dear husband's death." But alas! Before I could even repeat my curse again, my woman's heart stupidly fell prey to his honeyed words. I then proved the victim of my own soul's curse. From then on, I haven't had one hour of precious sleep in his bed without being awakened by the sounds of his nightmares. It doesn't matter, though—Richard hates me because of my father, Warwick, who was his enemy. He'll soon get rid of me, no doubt.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Poor heart, adieu. I pity thy complaining.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Poor heart, farewell. I pity your troubles.
ANNE
No more than from my soul I mourn for yours.
ANNE
No more than I mourn for yours, from the depths of my soul.
DORSET
Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory.
DORSET
Farewell, you sad new queen.
ANNE
Adieu, poor soul that tak’st thy leave of it.
ANNE
[To ELIZABETH] And farewell to you, sad old queen.
DUCHESS
[to DORSET] Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee. [to ANNE] Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee. [to QUEEN ELIZABETH] Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee. I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me. Eighty-odd years of sorrow have I seen, And each hour’s joy wracked with a week of teen.
DUCHESS
[To DORSET] You go to Richmond, and may good fortune go with you.
[To ANNE] You go to Richard, and may guardian angels protect you.
[To QUEEN ELIZABETH] And you go to sanctuary, and keep up your spirits. I will go to my grave, where peace and rest can lie alongside me. I've seen eighty-odd years of sorrow. Every hour of joy has been destroyed by a week of grief.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Stay, yet look back with me unto the Tower.— 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 sorrows bids your stones farewell.
QUEEN ELIZABETH
Wait, and look back at the Tower with me. You ancient stones of the Tower, have pity on those tender children who are locked inside your walls because of envy. You are a rough cradle for such little pretty ones. You rude, ragged nurse; you old, sullen playmate for tender princes—treat my babies well. And so I bid your stones farewell, you Tower, with all my foolish sorrow.
Exeunt
