Uh, it's the APRIL FOOLS issue. Think about it.

uh... so he uses it to make fun of 4 local bands? hmmmm...

yeah... that's pretty awesome...

... and it just so happens that the bands he chose to make fun of contain members that have criticized his writing...

... and i guess a few weeks ago when he wrote the following about the state champs...

""One band you can skip is The State Champs playing Pizza Luce on Saturday (Feb. 24). Their music is like The Cranberries meets heavy-metal-punk. Not to say their music is all discombobulated hard rock, but it is just boring and has been done before. Last year a local paper put a big spread in about them playing Homegrown. How this band still gets shows and charges people is beyond anyone's comprehension. They are a garage band that belongs playing a dive in Superior. No offense to Superior and dives..."

it's just a huge coincidence that he went after them again?

... or the fact that the guy takes shots at me monthly...

... another april fools coincidence?

sounds plausible...

As an artist, I advise taking reviews/reviewers with a tiny grain of salt. Even better to ignore them altogether. Seriously. It will affect your art and your well-being if you pay attention to them. Obviously it's having a negative affect on you. Let Olson and the Readedr be as lame and unprofessional as they want. The more you react, the more power you give them.

Good advice, Lurker. Also, let us not forget that Andrew Olson has an absolute right to hate any band he wants, and to right about it in the Reader. Just like Sarcasm... has the right to ignore him.

I mean "write". Not "right". Obviously.

Actually, I see it as another reason not to read the Reader. For too long it has been just a platform for certain fringe elements to spout off their personal agendas, which include, but are not limited to, bad mouthing anybody who may disagree with them. All this under the thin veneer of journalism. How I miss the Ripsaw. It wasn't necessarily better written, but it never felt so catty.

Yes, ignore the critics. I love the State Champs.

to be quite honest, this article didn't upset me at all... i actually found it quite funny... not in that "patton oswalt" or "george carlin" sort of way... but more in that "drunk frat guy making an ass out of himself" sort of way.

everything the guy says is taken with a grain of salt. i think it's the simple fact someone carries out their personal agenda under the guise or being a supporter of the local music community is what i find so insulting.

... and here, here... the state champs are, in fact, amazing.

If anything Andrew's article is small payback for all the abuse your nasty little clique (oh this junior high school mentality among local musicians) has heaped on him for like, um, TWO YEARS NOW in your various blogs. You started attacking when he was writing complimentary articles about you, why shouldn't he lay some smackdown of his own? You clearly cannot take what you dish out.

in the words of the wiser ones, oh snap!

no one was "attacking" him when he was writing "complimentary" articles on anyone... why waste the breath?

all this bullshit started when that guy had the nerve to suggest bands don't deserve a dime for their work unless they were "signed" or "on mtv". he ranted and raved about bands having the audacity to expect a person to pay a $5 cover to watch them play when that five dollars could buy a beer or two. he ranted about a band charging $10 for a cd. he went as far as to say bands should give their music away for free.

i've spent months in vans that broke down over and over again. i've lost thousands of dollars. lost jobs. ruined relationships... missed birthdays and funerals.. all because i love playing music. to say i (or anyone else for that matter) don't have the right to rip this guy to shreds for shitting all over that? well, that's just insane.

.. and to suggest that the airing of opinions in some itty bitty online blog warrants unfounded, personal attacks disguised as musical opinion in a publication the size of the reader, well... that's just sorta fucked up.

see... the big difference is that i write opinions in an online blog. he's an EMPLOYEE at a publication and is "paid" (in coupons from what i've been told) to write about music. If he wants to talk some shit, he's more than welcome to. let him open up a livejournal or perfectduluthday account. at least there the person being attacked has the ability to defend themselves. doing it in the fashion he seems to enjoy is cowardly and pretty unprofessional if you ask me.

It's really sad that the only way the Reader can get any attention is by pulling this kind of prank. They seem to have finally admitted that they have nothing worth reading anymore. They have run out of feet to shoot themselves in and are now just aiming at anything the moves. I feel bad for anyone working there that actually works hard every week to generate quality content. I would LOVE to hear what the other writers think of Andy Olson and the way he's singlehandedly destroyed the paper's credibility among local musicians and artists.

What a waste.

When I wrote CD reviews for the ripsaw I refused to write about albums I didn't like, waste of time and effort. The whole critic thing is an exercise in subjectivity anyway and I preferred to try and convince people to listen to something they might not have rather than not listen to something they may have. I know some people get off on writing and reading about strife, controversy and how awful some band/album is. But, in reality we have oh so more important things to be pissed about, that wasting all that invectitude on something at this level of personal subjectivity is, frankly, tiring

it's weird how some people automatically think that this is about musicians not being able to take criticism. it's not. it's about the reader having a music critic who knows virtually nothing about music, is a terrible writer, and is out to sabotage and personally attack bands that dare criticize his sub-ESL writing. i think this is about trying to put pressure on the reader to get some higher standards. you think the pulse or the city pages would allow writing that poor and misinformed to run in their papers? no way. so why do we allow it? are we stupider up here in the duluth/superior area? i hope not, but it sure reflects poorly upon us.

and anyone who defends a local paper's decision to allow its music writer to call a local musician "fat" over and over in its pages is a person who has a questionable perspective, i think. sure, plenty of people have dissed olson before in blogs and whatnot, but it's not like he was criticized for no reason. and it didn't start personal, but olson made it so. he can dish it out, but he can't take it.

i miss the ripsaw.

Personally, I think it's a pretty funny article.

it'd be a pretty funny article if you weren't one of the musicians being lampooned and/or parodied, it'd also be a funny article if the parties mentioned didn't already have an ongoing list of issues with the person writing the article, April Fool's spoof or no.

I think it's Andrew taking advantage of an opportunity to get a few half witty jabs over on a few individuals who he has problems with under the guise of a lighthearted gag article.

Kind of like a double entendre...only not.

i find it pretty frightening that someone would actually find this article funny... not because i find it offensive or anything like that but because, frankly, it's poorly done and makes absolutely NO sense.

it's not really a show review... or an album review... it's just a bunch of random crap thrown together with the hopes of being insulting. it's like he used some crazy word generating computer program to cram a bunch of random words together. it reads more like a madlib then a coherent article. i mean, what the hell is an electric cowbell? and what are methane enhanced drums?

i won't even get in to the fact that the grammar, punctuation and sentence structures are atrocious. the "i'm not saying they're bad..." part? i had to read that five or six times before i figured out what he was trying to say.

this article has all the humor of a larry the cable guy bit.

I think he was using a common literary vehicle called "farce". Electric cowbells and methane-enhanced drums do not have to exist in reality in order to refer to them in an April Fools-focused article. That's why it's farce.

Sounds like you need to move on, Sarcasm...

is that what they're calling complete idiocy these days? a farce?

huh.

please refer to tony's comment about this subject.

yours,
mat

I was a journalist for 10 years (also got my degree as such). I've been employed as a writer for 20. This guy is an idiot, people. He can't write a decent story, let alone a decent review or the oft-chance willy-nilly "lampoon" article to save his life. Farce? Re-read the sentence I just wrote. In order to write a farce, you have to know how to write in the first place. Of all the publications I've worked for in the past 20 years, lampoon or farce articles are always written by the most seasoned writers. Writing good farce is an art. His article is just plain ol' immature, whiny, stompy feet crap. This guy couldn't write a half-assed farce if it was his only ticket out of hell...although his moronic ways do keep me entertained. Whenever I read anything he's written, I always get this vision of a drooling two-year-old trying to write a proper sentence with a primary crayon on crumpled construction paper. Anyone remember Dominic Papatola? He was just as bad, but at least the guy could spell. My hippie side tells me that in some tiny way, he's probably an ok guy. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he is a total ass. I like to think that there's a little good in everyone. But jesus.... he just shouldn't be allowed to write until he finally passes 3rd grade English. And grows up. Which may be never.

The longer this discussion goes on, the funnier I find the article.

Yeah, it's real hoot. Now I think I'll get up off my ass and go do something useful with my life. You should too.

Thought I might chime in as I read PDD daily and this is the first time Mat and his "crew" have taken their whining here. :(

If anyone would want to know why I would take a shot at this group that claims to defend the Duluth community of artists please visit Mat M's Blog. He has threatened and bashed me weekly for 2 years, started a bumpersticker campaign of slander, and uses his art to suppliment his ego. (http://mattoafilmscore.livejournal.com/)

For almost 3 years I have written about local bands. Of the over 100 reviews I have done for The Reader only 2 have negative comments in them. One was about Tim Mahoney and the other was about The State Champs. You can read almost all of my reviews at www.fillmorenorth.com and see for yourself.

As for the other 10 commments Mat and his 2 friends posted here. I have had articles appear in City Pages and The Pulse. The reason they don't have as many errors as some of my pieces in the Reader is that the Reader doesn't edit much of what I write. Anyone makes mistakes, especially in satire they write in about 2 minutes... AND BLOGS THEY DON'T SIT AND PROOF..

And lastly... Mat, you love to say someone who writes virtually for free trying to tell people about the bands playing bars that no one else is reporting on is against the bands. Come on Mat, would I waste hours of my life getting so many bands' names out there if that was my goal?

All these people (Mat and his internet squad) do is ruin the music community with exclusion.

Mat rips on The Alrights, Boku, and any other band I write about that he is not in.

Really though all he wants to do is argue and complain. Which is why his drums were "negative enhanced methane".. When Mat thinks negative thoughts he spews his crap out at an audience. It could make a person puke.

Andrew

1. i've never ripped on the alrights. i've got no problem with those guys. i have however ripped on you for burying your nose so deep in their asses. i, as a rule, don't "rip" on other local bands (except for maybe teague alexy).

2. you're an idiot. you pass the buck on being an idiot off to the reader for not "editing" (fixing) your articles. it doesn't take hours to sound literate, asshole. you pretty much said you don't proofread your writing. that's sad... and if you do actually proofread it, that's sadder. you couldn't write your way out of a paper bag.

3. bumper sticker is not one word. i still have some left if you'd like one.

4. again, there's a huge difference between a musician picking apart your shoddy articles in some online blog and a supposed "professional" "journalist" using his column to screw with people he doesn't like. not to mention that at least in a blog-type setting, the person being attacked has the ability to defend themselves.

5. if anyone that disagrees with you is a whiny baby for publicly talking shit about your writing, i guess that'd make you no better. after all, you do pretty much the same thing... except when we critique things, we use fact... or at the very least, site examples and give clear reason behind our opinions. you, on the other hand, stick to calling people fat and go out of your way to tell people they should avoid a venue and a show because a band you wrote a very flattering article on a year early now sucks.

6. you know me. using music and art to supplement my ego. that's why i do things like ...and the heroine screams help... giving tons of good duluth bands exposer... and it's all done for free... or in most cases, out of my pocket. it's all ego stroking.

i'd never call myself a professional journalist and even i'd never use my position as a writer for that thing to take shots at you.

to briefly continue on that, i'm in three bands. work a 40-50 hour a week job, have a wife, dogs, a house to maintain and i write 75% of that zine. even i have the time to proof read my fucking articles before i send them in.

7. i encourage everyone to check out my itty bitty blog.

this is what started all this shit:

http://mattoafilmscore.livejournal.com/154001.html

(p.s. - this post was not proof read. i'm way too hung over for that shit. with that being said, i'd bet my next paycheck it's waaaaaaaaaay more coherent than anything you've written in the last 2 years. i don't need a team of editors to make me NOT sound like an idiot.)

"All these people (Mat and his internet squad) do is ruin the music community with exclusion."

Haven't you noticed that the entire Duluth music scene / community is all a bunch of exclusive cliques? It has been for some time now.

guys, guys, whaddya say we get together and hack this out in real life instead of wasting everyone's time? andrew, i'm trying to get a hold of you, but no one will give me your phone number.

Yeah. Let's get these immature personal insults off PDD. Why don't you two meet at Enger Tower at noon and have a slap fight, of thumb wresting contest. Please!

Good or bad it's still publicity! and it's got people talking about the bands.
PS (Post Sarcasm's ranting) Can I weigh in on whether you need an editor or sound like an idiot?

i'm no good at thumb wrestling and i'm far too much of a sissy for a slap fight.

i'd totally be down for an air guitar contest though.

This could be settled at the kickball game somehow.

Speaking of... what are the legalities of alcohol at the homegrown kickball game? =)

i thought you really weren't allowed to have alcohol in that park... i may be wrong about that though...

with that being said, the beer, wine and swamp water flows freely and there's never been a problem to the best of my knowledge.

My only concern is (assuming I bring some)... having kegs of homebrew confiscated =)

i just went to that fillmorenorth.com website that olson is directing everyone to, and i tried to read his review of a words to a film score concert. upon clicking the link, i got a how-to article about making christmas stockings.

LOUD NOISES!

Tony: it seems that the place that hosts the reader weekly website doesnt like getting paid in coupons =)

Therefore, the reader site is down.

A) using art to supplement (build, express, whatever) one's ego: yeah, like Mat's the first person to ever do that. Get over it, because art's kind of a good outlet for that (as opposed to killing people and shit).

B) professional journalists using thier columns to screw with people they don't like: yeah, like Olson's the first person to ever do that. I'm sure some of you read that insidious Street Team column in Magnet where all dude does is take bitter shots at bands. Lame. And Robert Novack anyone?

Point being: Just 'cause it happens all the time don't make it right, but at least Olson's not outing CIA operatives and Mat's not posing on the cover of Spin shirtless with his chest all oiled up.

Well, on second thought, that last part might be pretty awesome.

To quash this I suggest a knife fight for charity behind the Norshor, just like in the "Billie Jean" video. All the proceeds could go to ressurrecting the Ripsaw.

My money's on Mat.

"but at least Olson's not outing CIA operatives and Mat's not posing on the cover of Spin shirtless with his chest all oiled up."

that would be the worst selling issue of spin EVER...

I'd buy 2.

because it's been almost two years now that the creative community has had andrew olson's bullshit to deal with, i've recently found myself trying (and failing) to recall just how this all started in the first place. so i googled. and i found this:

http://64.233.167.104/search?q=cache:lMgFqPGBBfQJ:www.readerweekly.us/issue/328/Andrew_Olson-1.html+328+%22Andrew+Olson%22+%22reader+weekly%22&hl=en&ct=clnk&cd=1&gl=us

it's the original article that brought olson to local musicians' attention. aside from being virtually unreadable, it contains this kind nugget of advice to local bands: "wake up and smell the coffee." this quote is his coup de grace after a long rant about how local bands aren't worth the money they charge for shows and albums. so, nice way to ingratiate yourself, eh?

imagine the audacity it must take for a music writer who can't write and obviously knows nothing about music (that isn't classic rock) to come in to an established community of artists and start shitting all over them. or maybe it's not audacity at all. could be something else. ignorance?

more than anything, though, rereading this article reminded me of the dark day when i first heard that the doors had cancelled moondance. i don't know how we all went on after that.

oh, and look what popped up on the old myspace: http://www.myspace.com/stopandrewolson . why, yes, i *will* be your friend! click!

So not only is AO a writer, he seems to have all the business / promotional problems solved too!

Lower CD costs... lower cover charges... get more people to attend your show / buy your cds?!

Thank you Alan Greenspan Jr... we never thought of that.

one of the last shows cars & trucks played at luce... great turnout. super packed. super fun show. end of the night came and the dollars were doled out. we were, literally, super pumped at the cash we walked away with... nearly $33 a piece!!!

i'm extremely serious about being excited about making that kind of money.

after paying for the sticks i broke that set, i actually walked away with $23.

i guess what i'm saying is that to suggest i'm expecting too much... sorry... i just don't think it's gonna fly.

speaking as a practicing duluth musician who recently went into exile in washington, i can say that in the 5 years of writing, recording and performing music (for pay - sorry about gouging you good people) i left only $12,800 dollars in the hole. for something i loved that much, i don't consider it a loss. but to suggest charging $3 at the door is excessive, well...
that doesn't even cover the cost of ibuprofen needed for the hauling of hundreds of pounds of equipment to and from a bar and/or pizza joint.

Andrew

Who are you to say that these people are hurting the local music community?

They were part of it long before you were. They will be part of it after you leave.

It makes me very angry when I see you pretending to have any element of ownership in the Duluth/Superior music community. If you truly were interested in ownership, you would not do the stupid things you do.

If you were interested in making the community better, you would take responsibility for past transgressions and not hide behind "art" or "journalism" or "not having an editor".

You are the worst kind of coward I have ever seen.

sincerely,

Dave Hendrick

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I can't take it anymore!

actually, it's game night at goodfellows that is destroying the music community. ironic has gathered a group of people, or brethren if you will. his goal is to to destroy the world of music all together. for once duluth is free of a music scene, he will take all of the stages and drum risers, piece them together and paint a ginormous map of the earth therefore creating the world's largest game of RISK ever. if you listen closely on any given game night, you can hear the maniacal laughter of ironic as he plans to eradicate duluth's music scene once and for all.

i think this is best explained if you read Shakespeare's Richard the III.

ACT I
SCENE I. London. A street.

Enter GLOUCESTER, solus
GLOUCESTER
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd 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 hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded 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 stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish'd, 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 mew'd 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 armed guard
That waits upon your grace?

CLARENCE
His majesty
Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed
This conduct to convey me to the Tower.

GLOUCESTER
Upon what cause?

CLARENCE
Because my name is George.

GLOUCESTER
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 shall be new-christen'd 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 such like toys as these
Have moved his highness to commit me now.

GLOUCESTER
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 deliver'd?
We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe.

CLARENCE
By heaven, I think there's no man is secure
But the queen's kindred and night-walking heralds
That trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore.
Heard ye not what an humble suppliant
Lord hastings was to her for his delivery?

GLOUCESTER
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 dubb'd them gentlewomen.
Are mighty gossips in this 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.

GLOUCESTER
Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury,
You may partake of any thing 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 gentle-folks:
How say you sir? Can you deny all this?

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

GLOUCESTER
Naught to do with mistress Shore! I tell thee, fellow,
He that doth naught with her, excepting one,
Were best he do it secretly, alone.

BRAKENBURY
What one, my lord?

GLOUCESTER
Her husband, knave: wouldst thou betray me?

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

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

GLOUCESTER
We are the queen's abjects, and must obey.
Brother, farewell: I will unto the king;
And whatsoever 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.

GLOUCESTER
Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;
Meantime, have patience.

CLARENCE
I must perforce. Farewell.

Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard

GLOUCESTER
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-deliver'd Hastings?

Enter HASTINGS

HASTINGS
Good time of day unto my gracious lord!

GLOUCESTER
As much unto my good lord chamberlain!
Well are you welcome to the open air.
How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?

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.

GLOUCESTER
No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too;
For they that were your enemies are his,
And have prevail'd as much on him as you.

HASTINGS
More pity that the eagle should be mew'd,
While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.

GLOUCESTER
What news abroad?

HASTINGS
No news so bad abroad as this at home;
The King is sickly, weak and melancholy,
And his physicians fear him mightily.

GLOUCESTER
Now, by Saint Paul, this 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.
What, is he in his bed?

HASTINGS
He is.

GLOUCESTER
Go you before, and I will follow you.

Exit HASTINGS

He cannot live, I hope; and must not die
Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven.
I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments;
And, if I fall 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 kill'd 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

SCENE II. The same. Another street.

Enter the corpse of KING HENRY the Sixth, Gentlemen with halberds to guard it; LADY ANNE being the mourner
LADY ANNE
Set down, set down your honourable load,
If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,
Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament
The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!
Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!
Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost,
To hear the lamentations of Poor Anne,
Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son,
Stabb'd by the selfsame hand that made these wounds!
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!
More direful hap betide that hated wretch,
That makes us wretched by the death of thee,
Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,
Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!
If ever he have child, abortive be it,
Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,
Whose ugly and unnatural aspect
May fright the hopeful mother at the view;
And that be heir to his unhappiness!
If ever he have wife, let her he made
A miserable by the death of him
As I am made by my poor lord and thee!
Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load,
Taken from Paul's to be interred there;
And still, as you are weary of the weight,
Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse.

Enter GLOUCESTER

GLOUCESTER
Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.

LADY ANNE
What black magician conjures up this fiend,
To stop devoted charitable deeds?

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

Gentleman
My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.

GLOUCESTER
Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command:
Advance thy halbert higher than my breast,
Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot,
And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.

LADY ANNE
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.

GLOUCESTER
Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.

LADY ANNE
Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not;
For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,
Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims.
If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,
Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.
O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds
Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh!
Blush, Blush, thou lump of foul deformity;
For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood
From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells;
Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural,
Provokes this deluge most unnatural.
O God, which this blood madest, revenge his death!
O earth, which this blood drink'st revenge his death!
Either heaven with lightning strike the
murderer dead,
Or earth, gape open wide and eat him quick,
As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood
Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered!

GLOUCESTER
Lady, you know no rules of charity,
Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.

LADY ANNE
Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor man:
No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.

GLOUCESTER
But I know none, and therefore am no beast.

LADY ANNE
O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!

GLOUCESTER
More wonderful, when angels are so angry.
Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,
Of these supposed-evils, to give me leave,
By circumstance, but to acquit myself.

LADY ANNE
Vouchsafe, defused infection of a man,
For these known evils, but to give me leave,
By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self.

GLOUCESTER
Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have
Some patient leisure to excuse myself.

LADY ANNE
Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make
No excuse current, but to hang thyself.

GLOUCESTER
By such despair, I should accuse myself.

LADY ANNE
And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused;
For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,
Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others.

GLOUCESTER
Say that I slew them not?

LADY ANNE
Why, then they are not dead:
But dead they are, and devilish slave, by thee.

GLOUCESTER
I did not kill your husband.

LADY ANNE
Why, then he is alive.

GLOUCESTER
Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand.

LADY ANNE
In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw
Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood;
The which thou once didst bend against her breast,
But that thy brothers beat aside the point.

GLOUCESTER
I was provoked by her slanderous tongue,
which laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.

LADY ANNE
Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind.
Which never dreamt on aught but butcheries:
Didst thou not kill this king?

GLOUCESTER
I grant ye.

LADY ANNE
Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too
Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed!
O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous!

GLOUCESTER
The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him.

LADY ANNE
He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.

GLOUCESTER
Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither;
For he was fitter for that place than earth.

LADY ANNE
And thou unfit for any place but hell.

GLOUCESTER
Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.

LADY ANNE
Some dungeon.

GLOUCESTER
Your bed-chamber.

LADY ANNE
I'll rest betide the chamber where thou liest!

GLOUCESTER
So will it, madam till I lie with you.

LADY ANNE
I hope so.

GLOUCESTER
I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne,
To leave this keen encounter of our wits,
And fall somewhat into a slower method,
Is not the causer of the timeless deaths
Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward,
As blameful as the executioner?

LADY ANNE
Thou art the cause, and most accursed effect.

GLOUCESTER
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.

LADY ANNE
If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.

GLOUCESTER
These eyes could never endure sweet beauty's wreck;
You should not blemish it, if I stood by:
As all the world is cheered by the sun,
So I by that; it is my day, my life.

LADY ANNE
Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life!

GLOUCESTER
Curse not thyself, fair creature thou art both.

LADY ANNE
I would I were, to be revenged on thee.

GLOUCESTER
It is a quarrel most unnatural,
To be revenged on him that loveth you.

LADY ANNE
It is a quarrel just and reasonable,
To be revenged on him that slew my husband.

GLOUCESTER
He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,
Did it to help thee to a better husband.

LADY ANNE
His better doth not breathe upon the earth.

GLOUCESTER
He lives that loves thee better than he could.

LADY ANNE
Name him.

GLOUCESTER
Plantagenet.

LADY ANNE
Why, that was he.

GLOUCESTER
The selfsame name, but one of better nature.

LADY ANNE
Where is he?

GLOUCESTER
Here.

She spitteth at him

Why dost thou spit at me?

LADY ANNE
Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake!

GLOUCESTER
Never came poison from so sweet a place.

LADY ANNE
Never hung poison on a fouler toad.
Out of my sight! thou dost infect my eyes.

GLOUCESTER
Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.

LADY ANNE
Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead!

GLOUCESTER
I would they were, that I might die at once;
For now they kill me with a living death.
Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears,
Shamed their aspect with store of childish drops:
These eyes that never shed remorseful tear,
No, when my father York and Edward wept,
To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made
When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him;
Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,
Told the sad story of my father's death,
And twenty times made pause to sob and weep,
That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks
Like trees bedash'd with rain: in that sad time
My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;
And what these sorrows could not thence exhale,
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.

She looks scornfully at him

Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were 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 bosom.
And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,
I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,
And humbly beg the death upon my knee.

He lays his breast open: she offers at it with his sword

Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry,
But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me.
Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward,
But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on.

Here she lets fall the sword

Take up the sword again, or take up me.

LADY ANNE
Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death,
I will not be the executioner.

GLOUCESTER
Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.

LADY ANNE
I have already.

GLOUCESTER
Tush, that was in thy rage:
Speak it again, and, even with the word,
That hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love,
Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love;
To both their deaths thou shalt be accessary.

LADY ANNE
I would I knew thy heart.

GLOUCESTER
'Tis figured in my tongue.

LADY ANNE
I fear me both are false.

GLOUCESTER
Then never man was true.

LADY ANNE
Well, well, put up your sword.

GLOUCESTER
Say, then, my peace is made.

LADY ANNE
That shall you know hereafter.

GLOUCESTER
But shall I live in hope?

LADY ANNE
All men, I hope, live so.

GLOUCESTER
Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

LADY ANNE
To take is not to give.

GLOUCESTER
Look, how this ring encompasseth finger.
Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart;
Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
And if thy poor devoted suppliant may
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.

LADY ANNE
What is it?

GLOUCESTER
That it would please thee leave these sad designs
To him that hath more cause to be a mourner,
And presently repair to Crosby Place;
Where, after I have solemnly interr'd
At Chertsey monastery this noble king,
And wet his grave with my repentant tears,
I will with all expedient duty see you:
For divers unknown reasons. I beseech you,
Grant me this boon.

LADY ANNE
With all my heart; and much it joys me too,
To see you are become so penitent.
Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.

GLOUCESTER
Bid me farewell.

LADY ANNE
'Tis more than you deserve;
But since you teach me how to flatter you,
Imagine I have said farewell already.

Exeunt LADY ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKELEY

GLOUCESTER
Sirs, take up the corse.

GENTLEMEN
Towards Chertsey, noble lord?

GLOUCESTER
No, to White-Friars; there attend my coining.

Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER

Was ever woman in this humour woo'd?
Was ever woman in this humour won?
I'll have her; but I will not keep her long.
What! I, that kill'd her husband and his father,
To take her in her heart's extremest hate,
With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,
The bleeding witness of her hatred by;
Having God, her conscience, and these bars
against me,
And I nothing to back my suit at all,
But the plain devil and dissembling looks,
And yet to win her, all the world to nothing!
Ha!
Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since,
Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,
Framed in the prodigality of nature,
Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal,
The spacious world cannot again afford
And will she yet debase her eyes on me,
That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince,
And made her widow to a woful bed?
On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety?
On me, that halt and am unshapen thus?
My dukedom to a beggarly denier,
I do mistake my person all this while:
Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot,
Myself to be a marvellous proper man.
I'll 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 favour with myself,
Will maintain it with some little cost.
But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave;
And then return lamenting to my love.
Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,
That I may see my shadow as I pass.

Exit

SCENE III. The palace.

Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, RIVERS, and GREY
RIVERS
Have patience, madam: there's no doubt his majesty
Will soon recover his accustom'd health.

GREY
In that you brook it in, it makes him worse:
Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort,
And cheer his grace with quick and merry words.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
If he were dead, what would betide of me?

RIVERS
No other harm but loss of such a lord.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
The loss of such a lord includes all harm.

GREY
The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son,
To be your comforter when he is gone.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
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.

RIVERS
Is it concluded that he shall be protector?

QUEEN ELIZABETH
It is determined, not concluded yet:
But so it must be, if the king miscarry.

Enter BUCKINGHAM and DERBY

GREY
Here come the lords of Buckingham and Derby.

BUCKINGHAM
Good time of day unto your royal grace!

DERBY
God make your majesty joyful as you have been!

QUEEN ELIZABETH
The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby.
To your good prayers will scarcely say amen.
Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she's your wife,
And loves not me, be you, good lord, assured
I hate not you for her proud arrogance.

DERBY
I do beseech you, either not believe
The envious slanders of her false accusers;
Or, if she be accused in true report,
Bear with her weakness, which, I think proceeds
From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice.

RIVERS
Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of Derby?

DERBY
But now the Duke of Buckingham and I
Are come from visiting his majesty.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
What likelihood of his amendment, lords?

BUCKINGHAM
Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
God grant him health! Did you confer with him?

BUCKINGHAM
Madam, we did: he desires to make atonement
Betwixt the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers,
And betwixt them and my lord chamberlain;
And sent to warn them to his royal presence.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Would all were well! but that will never be
I fear our happiness is at the highest.

Enter GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET

GLOUCESTER
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 rumours.
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, insinuating Jacks?

RIVERS
To whom in all this presence speaks your grace?

GLOUCESTER
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 person,--
Whom God preserve better than you would wish!--
Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while,
But you must trouble him with lewd complaints.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter.
The king, of his own royal disposition,
And not provoked by any suitor else;
Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,
Which in your outward actions shows itself
Against my kindred, brothers, and myself,
Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather
The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it.

GLOUCESTER
I cannot tell: the world is grown so bad,
That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch:
Since every Jack became a gentleman
There's many a gentle person made a Jack.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Come, come, we know your meaning, brother
Gloucester;
You envy my advancement and my friends':
God grant we never may have need of you!

GLOUCESTER
Meantime, God grants that we have need of you:
Your brother is imprison'd by your means,
Myself disgraced, and the nobility
Held in contempt; whilst many fair promotions
Are daily given to ennoble those
That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
By Him that raised me to this careful height
From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,
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.

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

RIVERS
She may, my lord, for--

GLOUCESTER
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 honours on your high deserts.
What may she not? She may, yea, marry, may she--

RIVERS
What, marry, may she?

GLOUCESTER
What, marry, may she! marry with a king,
A bachelor, a handsome stripling too:
I wis your grandam had a worser match.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
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.
I had rather be a country servant-maid
Than a great queen, with this condition,
To be thus taunted, scorn'd, and baited at:

Enter QUEEN MARGARET, behind

Small joy have I in being England's queen.

QUEEN MARGARET
And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee!
Thy honour, state and seat is due to me.

GLOUCESTER
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.

QUEEN MARGARET
Out, devil! I remember them too well:
Thou slewest my husband Henry in the Tower,
And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury.

GLOUCESTER
Ere you were queen, yea, or your husband king,
I was a pack-horse in his great affairs;
A weeder-out of his proud adversaries,
A liberal rewarder of his friends:
To royalize his blood I spilt mine own.

QUEEN MARGARET
Yea, and much better blood than his or thine.

GLOUCESTER
In all which time you and your husband Grey
Were factious for the house of Lancaster;
And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband
In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain?
Let me put in your minds, if you forget,
What you have been ere now, and what you are;
Withal, what I have been, and what I am.

QUEEN MARGARET
A murderous villain, and so still thou art.

GLOUCESTER
Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick;
Yea, and forswore himself,--which Jesu pardon!--

QUEEN MARGARET
Which God revenge!

GLOUCESTER
To fight on Edward's party for the crown;
And for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd 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.

QUEEN MARGARET
Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave the world,
Thou cacodemon! there thy kingdom is.

RIVERS
My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days
Which here you urge to prove us enemies,
We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king:
So should we you, if you should be our king.

GLOUCESTER
If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar:
Far be it from my heart, the thought of it!

QUEEN ELIZABETH
As little joy, my lord, as you suppose
You should enjoy, were you this country's king,
As little joy may you suppose in me.
That I enjoy, being the queen thereof.

QUEEN MARGARET
A little joy enjoys the queen thereof;
For I am she, and altogether joyless.
I can no longer hold me patient.

Advancing

Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out
In sharing that which you have pill'd from me!
Which of you trembles not that looks on me?
If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects,
Yet that, by you deposed, you quake like rebels?
O gentle villain, do not turn away!

GLOUCESTER
Foul wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight?

QUEEN MARGARET
But repetition of what thou hast marr'd;
That will I make before I let thee go.

GLOUCESTER
Wert thou not banished on pain of death?

QUEEN MARGARET
I was; but I do find more pain in banishment
Than death can yield me here by my abode.
A husband and a son thou owest to me;
And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance:
The sorrow that I have, by right is yours,
And all the pleasures you usurp are mine.

GLOUCESTER
The curse my noble father laid on thee,
When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper
And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes,
And then, to dry them, gavest the duke a clout
Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland--
His curses, then from bitterness of soul
Denounced against thee, are all fall'n upon thee;
And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
So just is God, to right the innocent.

HASTINGS
O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe,
And the most merciless that e'er was heard of!

RIVERS
Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported.

DORSET
No man but prophesied revenge for it.

BUCKINGHAM
Northumberland, then present, wept to see it.

QUEEN MARGARET
What were you snarling all before I came,
Ready to catch each other by the throat,
And turn you all your hatred now on me?
Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven?
That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death,
Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment,
Could all but answer for that peevish brat?
Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven?
Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses!
If not by war, by surfeit die your king,
As ours by murder, to make him a king!
Edward thy son, which now is Prince of Wales,
For Edward my son, which was Prince of Wales,
Die in his youth by like untimely violence!
Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen,
Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self!
Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's loss;
And see another, as I see thee now,
Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine!
Long die thy happy days before thy death;
And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief,
Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen!
Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by,
And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son
Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray him,
That none of you may live your natural age,
But by some unlook'd accident cut off!

GLOUCESTER
Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag!

QUEEN MARGARET
And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me.
If heaven have any grievous plague in store
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,
O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe,
And then hurl down their indignation
On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace!
The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul!
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest,
And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils!
Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog!
Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity
The slave of nature and the son of hell!
Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb!
Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins!
Thou rag of honour! thou detested--

GLOUCESTER
Margaret.

QUEEN MARGARET
Richard!

GLOUCESTER
Ha!

QUEEN MARGARET
I call thee not.

GLOUCESTER
I cry thee mercy then, for I had thought
That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names.

QUEEN MARGARET
Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply.
O, let me make the period to my curse!

GLOUCESTER
'Tis done by me, and ends in 'Margaret.'

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself.

QUEEN MARGARET
Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune!
Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider,
Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about?
Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself.
The time will come when thou shalt wish for me
To help thee curse that poisonous bunchback'd toad.

HASTINGS
False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse,
Lest to thy harm thou move our patience.

QUEEN MARGARET
Foul shame upon you! you have all moved mine.

RIVERS
Were you well served, you would be taught your duty.

QUEEN MARGARET
To serve me well, you all should do me duty,
Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects:
O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty!

DORSET
Dispute not with her; she is lunatic.

QUEEN MARGARET
Peace, master marquess, you are malapert:
Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current.
O, that your young nobility could judge
What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable!
They that stand high have many blasts to shake them;
And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces.

GLOUCESTER
Good counsel, marry: learn it, learn it, marquess.

DORSET
It toucheth you, my lord, as much as me.

GLOUCESTER
Yea, and much more: but I was born so high,
Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top,
And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun.

QUEEN MARGARET
And turns the sun to shade; alas! alas!
Witness my son, now in the shade of death;
Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath
Hath in eternal darkness folded up.
Your aery buildeth in our aery's nest.
O God, that seest it, do not suffer it!
As it was won with blood, lost be it so!

BUCKINGHAM
Have done! for shame, if not for charity.

QUEEN MARGARET
Urge neither charity nor shame to me:
Uncharitably with me have you dealt,
And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd.
My charity is outrage, life my shame
And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage.

BUCKINGHAM
Have done, have done.

QUEEN MARGARET
O princely Buckingham I'll kiss thy hand,
In sign of league and amity with thee:
Now fair befal thee and thy noble house!
Thy garments are not spotted with our blood,
Nor thou within the compass of my curse.

BUCKINGHAM
Nor no one here; for curses never pass
The lips of those that breathe them in the air.

QUEEN MARGARET
I'll not believe but they ascend the sky,
And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace.
O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog!
Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites,
His venom tooth will rankle to the death:
Have not to do with him, beware of him;
Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him,
And all their ministers attend on him.

GLOUCESTER
What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham?

BUCKINGHAM
Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord.

QUEEN MARGARET
What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel?
And soothe the devil that I warn thee from?
O, but remember this another day,
When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow,
And say poor Margaret was a prophetess!
Live each of you the subjects to his hate,
And he to yours, and all of you to God's!

Exit

HASTINGS
My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses.

RIVERS
And so doth mine: I muse why she's at liberty.

GLOUCESTER
I cannot blame her: by God's holy mother,
She hath had too much wrong; and I repent
My part thereof that I have done to her.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
I never did her any, to my knowledge.

GLOUCESTER
But you have all the vantage of her wrong.
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 frank'd up to fatting for his pains
God pardon them that are the cause of it!

RIVERS
A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion,
To pray for them that have done scathe to us.

GLOUCESTER
So do I ever:

Aside

being well-advised.
For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself.

Enter CATESBY

CATESBY
Madam, his majesty doth call for you,
And for your grace; and you, my noble lords.

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

RIVERS
Madam, we will attend your grace.

Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER

GLOUCESTER
I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl.
The secret mischiefs that I set abroach
I lay unto the grievous charge of others.
Clarence, whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness,
I do beweep to many simple gulls
Namely, to Hastings, Derby, Buckingham;
And say it is the queen and her allies
That stir the king against the duke my brother.
Now, they believe it; and withal whet me
To be revenged on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey:
But then I sigh; and, with a piece of scripture,
Tell them that God bids us do good for evil:
And thus I clothe my naked villany
With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ;
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.

Enter two Murderers

But, soft! here come my executioners.
How now, my hardy, stout resolved mates!
Are you now going to dispatch this deed?

First Murderer
We are, my lord; and come to have the warrant
That we may be admitted where he is.

GLOUCESTER
Well thought upon; I have it here about me.

Gives the warrant

When you have done, repair to Crosby Place.
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.

First Murderer
Tush!
Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate;
Talkers are no good doers: be assured
We come to use our hands and not our tongues.

GLOUCESTER
Your eyes drop millstones, when fools' eyes drop tears:
I like you, lads; about your business straight;
Go, go, dispatch.

First Murderer
We will, my noble lord.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. London. The Tower.

Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY
BRAKENBURY
Why looks your grace so heavily today?

CLARENCE
O, I have pass'd 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!

BRAKENBURY
What was your dream? I long to hear you tell it.

CLARENCE
Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower,
And was embark'd 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 toward England,
And cited up a thousand fearful times,
During the wars of York and Lancaster
That had befall'n 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 waters in mine ears!
What ugly sights of death within mine eyes!
Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
Ten thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea:
Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept,
As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems,
Which woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep,
And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.

BRAKENBURY
Had you such leisure in the time of death
To gaze upon the secrets of the deep?

CLARENCE
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 seek the empty, vast and wandering air;
But smother'd it within my panting bulk,
Which almost burst to belch it in the sea.

BRAKENBURY
Awaked you not with this sore agony?

CLARENCE
O, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life;
O, then began the tempest to my soul,
Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood,
With that grim ferryman which poets write of,
Unto 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 vanish'd: then came wandering by
A shadow like an angel, with bright hair
Dabbled in blood; and he squeak'd out aloud,
'Clarence is come; false, fleeting, perjured Clarence,
That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury;
Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments!'
With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends
Environ'd me about, 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 the dream.

BRAKENBURY
No marvel, my lord, though it affrighted you;
I promise, I am afraid to hear you tell it.

CLARENCE
O Brakenbury, I have done those things,
Which now bear evidence against my soul,
For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me!
O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee,
But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds,
Yet execute thy wrath in me alone,
O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children!
I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me;
My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.

BRAKENBURY
I will, my lord: God give your grace good rest!

CLARENCE sleeps

Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours,
Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night.
Princes have but their tides for their glories,
An outward honour for an inward toil;
And, for unfelt imagination,
They often feel a world of restless cares:
So that, betwixt their tides and low names,
There's nothing differs but the outward fame.

Enter the two Murderers

First Murderer
Ho! who's here?

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

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

BRAKENBURY
Yea, are you so brief?

Second Murderer
O sir, it is better to be brief than tedious. Show
him our commission; talk no more.

BRAKENBURY reads it

BRAKENBURY
I am, in this, commanded to deliver
The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands:
I will not reason what is meant hereby,
Because I will be guiltless of the meaning.
Here are the keys, there sits the duke asleep:
I'll to the king; and signify to him
That thus I have resign'd my charge to you.

First Murderer
Do so, it is a point of wisdom: fare you well.

Exit BRAKENBURY

Second Murderer
What, shall we stab him as he sleeps?

First Murderer
No; then he will say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes.

Second Murderer
When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake till
the judgment-day.

First Murderer
Why, then he will say we stabbed him sleeping.

Second Murderer
The urging of that word 'judgment' hath bred a kind
of remorse in me.

First Murderer
What, art thou afraid?

Second Murderer
Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be
damned for killing him, from which no warrant can defend us.

First Murderer
I thought thou hadst been resolute.

Second Murderer
So I am, to let him live.

First Murderer
Back to the Duke of Gloucester, tell him so.

Second Murderer
I pray thee, stay a while: I hope my holy humour
will change; 'twas wont to hold me but while one
would tell twenty.

First Murderer
How dost thou feel thyself now?

Second Murderer
'Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet
within me.

First Murderer
Remember our reward, when the deed is done.

Second Murderer
'Zounds, he dies: I had forgot the reward.

First Murderer
Where is thy conscience now?

Second Murderer
In the Duke of Gloucester's purse.

First Murderer
So when he opens his purse to give us our reward,
thy conscience flies out.

Second Murderer
Let it go; there's few or none will entertain it.

First Murderer
How if it come to thee again?

Second Murderer
I'll not meddle with it: it is a dangerous thing: it
makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but it
accuseth him; he cannot swear, but it cheques him;
he cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it
detects him: 'tis a blushing shamefast spirit that
mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of
obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold
that I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it
is turned out of all towns and cities for a
dangerous thing; and every man that means to live
well endeavours to trust to himself and to live
without it.

First Murderer
'Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me
not to kill the duke.

Second Murderer
Take the devil in thy mind, and relieve him not: he
would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh.

First Murderer
Tut, I am strong-framed, he cannot prevail with me,
I warrant thee.

Second Murderer
Spoke like a tail fellow that respects his
reputation. Come, shall we to this gear?

First Murderer
Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy
sword, and then we will chop him in the malmsey-butt
in the next room.

Second Murderer
O excellent devise! make a sop of him.

First Murderer
Hark! he stirs: shall I strike?

Second Murderer
No, first let's reason with him.

CLARENCE
Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine.

Second murderer
You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon.

CLARENCE
In God's name, what art thou?

Second Murderer
A man, as you are.

CLARENCE
But not, as I am, royal.

Second Murderer
Nor you, as we are, loyal.

CLARENCE
Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble.

Second Murderer
My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own.

CLARENCE
How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak!
Your eyes do menace me: why look you pale?
Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come?

Both
To, to, to--

CLARENCE
To murder me?

Both
Ay, ay.

CLARENCE
You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so,
And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it.
Wherein, my friends, have I offended you?

First Murderer
Offended us you have not, but the king.

CLARENCE
I shall be reconciled to him again.

Second Murderer
Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die.

CLARENCE
Are you call'd forth from out a world of men
To slay the innocent? What is my offence?
Where are the evidence that do accuse me?
What lawful quest have given their verdict up
Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounced
The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death?
Before I be convict by course of law,
To threaten me with death is most unlawful.
I charge you, as you hope to have redemption
By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins,
That you depart and lay no hands on me
The deed you undertake is damnable.

First Murderer
What we will do, we do upon command.

Second Murderer
And he that hath commanded is the king.

CLARENCE
Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings
Hath in the tables of his law commanded
That thou shalt do no murder: and wilt thou, then,
Spurn at his edict and fulfil a man's?
Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hands,
To hurl upon their heads that break his law.

Second Murderer
And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee,
For false forswearing and for murder too:
Thou didst receive the holy sacrament,
To fight in quarrel of the house of Lancaster.

First Murderer
And, like a traitor to the name of God,
Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade
Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son.

Second Murderer
Whom thou wert sworn to cherish and defend.

First Murderer
How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us,
When thou hast broke it in so dear degree?

CLARENCE
Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed?
For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: Why, sirs,
He sends ye not to murder me for this
For in this sin he is as deep as I.
If God will be revenged for this deed.
O, know you yet, he doth it publicly,
Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm;
He needs no indirect nor lawless course
To cut off those that have offended him.

First Murderer
Who made thee, then, a bloody minister,
When gallant-springing brave Plantagenet,
That princely novice, was struck dead by thee?

CLARENCE
My brother's love, the devil, and my rage.

First Murderer
Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault,
Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee.

CLARENCE
Oh, if you love my brother, hate not me;
I am his brother, and I love him well.
If you be hired for meed, go back again,
And I will send you to my brother Gloucester,
Who shall reward you better for my life
Than Edward will for tidings of my death.

Second Murderer
You are deceived, your brother Gloucester hates you.

CLARENCE
O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear:
Go you to him from me.

Both
Ay, so we will.

CLARENCE
Tell him, when that our princely father York
Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm,
And charged us from his soul to love each other,
He little thought of this divided friendship:
Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep.

First Murderer
Ay, millstones; as be lesson'd us to weep.

CLARENCE
O, do not slander him, for he is kind.

First Murderer
Right,
As snow in harvest. Thou deceivest thyself:
'Tis he that sent us hither now to slaughter thee.

CLARENCE
It cannot be; for when I parted with him,
He hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs,
That he would labour my delivery.

Second Murderer
Why, so he doth, now he delivers thee
From this world's thraldom to the joys of heaven.

First Murderer
Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord.

CLARENCE
Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul,
To counsel me to make my peace with God,
And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind,
That thou wilt war with God by murdering me?
Ah, sirs, consider, he that set you on
To do this deed will hate you for the deed.

Second Murderer
What shall we do?

CLARENCE
Relent, and save your souls.

First Murderer
Relent! 'tis cowardly and womanish.

CLARENCE
Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish.
Which of you, if you were a prince's son,
Being pent from liberty, as I am now,
if two such murderers as yourselves came to you,
Would not entreat for life?
My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks:
O, if thine eye be not a flatterer,
Come thou on my side, and entreat for me,
As you would beg, were you in my distress
A begging prince what beggar pities not?

Second Murderer
Look behind you, my lord.

First Murderer
Take that, and that: if all this will not do,

Stabs him

I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within.

Exit, with the body

Second Murderer
A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch'd!
How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands
Of this most grievous guilty murder done!

Re-enter First Murderer

First Murderer
How now! what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not?
By heavens, the duke shall know how slack thou art!

Second Murderer
I would he knew that I had saved his brother!
Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say;
For I repent me that the duke is slain.

Exit

First Murderer
So do not I: go, coward as thou art.
Now must I hide his body in some hole,
Until the duke take order for his burial:
And when I have my meed, I must away;
For this will out, and here I must not stay.

ACT II
SCENE I. London. The palace.

Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV sick, QUEEN ELIZABETH, DORSET, RIVERS, HASTINGS, BUCKINGHAM, GREY, and others
KING EDWARD IV
Why, so: now have I done a good day's work:
You peers, continue this united league:
I every day expect an embassage
From my Redeemer to redeem me hence;
And now in peace my soul shall part to heaven,
Since I have set my friends at peace on earth.
Rivers and Hastings, take each other's hand;
Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love.

RIVERS
By heaven, my heart is purged from grudging hate:
And with my hand I seal my true heart's love.

HASTINGS
So thrive I, as I truly swear the like!

KING EDWARD IV
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.

HASTINGS
So prosper I, as I swear perfect love!

RIVERS
And I, as I love Hastings with my heart!

KING EDWARD IV
Madam, yourself are not exempt in this,
Nor your son 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.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Here, Hastings; I will never more remember
Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine!

KING EDWARD IV
Dorset, embrace him; Hastings, love lord marquess.

DORSET
This interchange of love, I here protest,
Upon my part shall be unviolable.

HASTINGS
And so swear I, my lord

They embrace

KING EDWARD IV
Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league
With thy embracements to my wife's allies,
And make me happy in your unity.

BUCKINGHAM
Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate
On you or yours,

To the Queen

but with all duteous love
Doth cherish you and 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 yours.

KING EDWARD IV
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.

Enter GLOUCESTER

GLOUCESTER
Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen:
And, princely peers, a happy time of day!

KING EDWARD IV
Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day.
Brother, we done deeds of charity;
Made peace enmity, fair love of hate,
Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.

GLOUCESTER
A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege:
Amongst this princely heap, if any here,
By false intelligence, or wrong surmise,
Hold me a foe;
If I 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;
That without desert have frown'd on me;
Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all.
I do not know that Englishman alive
With whom my soul is any jot at odds
More than the infant that is born to-night
I thank my God for my humility.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
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.

GLOUCESTER
Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this
To be so bouted in this royal presence?
Who knows not that the noble duke is dead?

They all start

You do him injury to scorn his corse.

RIVERS
Who knows not he is dead! who knows he is?

QUEEN ELIZABETH
All seeing heaven, what a world is this!

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

DORSET
Ay, my good lord; and no one in this presence
But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks.

KING EDWARD IV
Is Clarence dead? the order was reversed.

GLOUCESTER
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.
God grant that some, less noble and less loyal,
Nearer in bloody thoughts, but not in blood,
Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did,
And yet go current from suspicion!

Enter DERBY

DORSET
A boon, my sovereign, for my service done!

KING EDWARD IV
I pray thee, peace: my soul is full of sorrow.

DORSET
I will not rise, unless your highness grant.

KING EDWARD IV
Then speak at once what is it thou demand'st.

DORSET
The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life;
Who slew to-day a righteous gentleman
Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk.

KING EDWARD IV
Have a tongue to doom my brother's death,
And shall the same give pardon to a slave?
My brother slew no man; his fault was thought,
And yet his punishment was cruel death.
Who sued to me for him? who, in my rage,
Kneel'd 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 Oxford had me down, he rescued me,
And said, 'Dear brother, live, and be a king'?
Who told me, when we both lay in the field
Frozen almost to death, how he 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 pluck'd, and not a man of you
Had so much grace to put it in my mind.
But when your carters or your waiting-vassals
Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced
The precious image of our dear Redeemer,
You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon;
And I unjustly too, must grant it you
But for my brother not a man would speak,
Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself
For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all
Have been beholding to him in his life;
Yet none of you would once plead for his life.
O God, I fear thy justice will take hold
On me, and you, and mine, and yours for this!
Come, Hastings, help me to my closet.
Oh, poor Clarence!

Exeunt some with KING EDWARD IV and QUEEN MARGARET

GLOUCESTER
This is the fruit of rashness! Mark'd you not
How that the guilty kindred of the queen
Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death?
O, they did urge it still unto the king!
God will revenge it. But come, let us in,
To comfort Edward with our company.

BUCKINGHAM
We wait upon your grace.

Exeunt

SCENE II. The palace.

Enter the DUCHESS OF YORK, with the two children of CLARENCE
Boy
Tell me, good grandam, is our father dead?

DUCHESS OF YORK
No, boy.

Boy
Why do you wring your hands, and beat your breast,
And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!'

Girl
Why do you look on us, and shake your head,
And call us wretches, orphans, castaways
If that our noble father be alive?

DUCHESS OF YORK
My pretty cousins, you mistake me much;
I do lament the sickness of the king.
As loath to lose him, not your father's death;
It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost.

Boy
Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead.
The king my uncle is to blame for this:
God will revenge it; whom I will importune
With daily prayers all to that effect.

Girl
And so will I.

DUCHESS OF YORK
Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well:
Incapable and shallow innocents,
You cannot guess who caused your father's death.

Boy
Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester
Told me, the king, provoked by the queen,
Devised impeachments to imprison him :
And when my uncle told me so, he wept,
And hugg'd me in his arm, and kindly kiss'd my cheek;
Bade me rely on him as on my father,
And he would love me dearly as his child.

DUCHESS OF YORK
Oh, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes,
And with a virtuous vizard hide foul guile!
He is my son; yea, and therein my shame;
Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit.

Boy
Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam?

DUCHESS OF YORK
Ay, boy.

Boy
I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this?

Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, with her hair about her ears; RIVERS, and DORSET after her

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Oh, who shall hinder me to wail and weep,
To chide my fortune, and torment myself?
I'll join with black despair against my soul,
And to myself become an enemy.

DUCHESS OF YORK
What means this scene of rude impatience?

QUEEN ELIZABETH
To make an act of tragic violence:
Edward, my lord, your son, our king, is dead.
Why grow the branches now the root is wither'd?
Why wither not the leaves the sap being gone?
If you will live, lament; if die, be brief,
That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's;
Or, like obedient subjects, follow him
To his new kingdom of perpetual rest.

DUCHESS OF YORK
Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow
As I had title in thy noble husband!
I have bewept a worthy husband's death,
And lived by looking on his images:
But now two mirrors of his princely semblance
Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death,
And I for comfort have but one false glass,
Which grieves me when I see my shame in him.
Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother,
And hast the comfort of thy children left thee:
But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms,
And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble limbs,
Edward and Clarence. O, what cause have I,
Thine being but a moiety of my grief,
To overgo thy plaints and drown thy cries!

Boy
Good aunt, you wept not for our father's death;
How can we aid you with our kindred tears?

Girl
Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd;
Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept!

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Give me no help in lamentation;
I am not barren to bring forth complaints
All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes,
That I, being govern'd by the watery moon,
May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world!
Oh for my husband, for my dear lord Edward!

Children
Oh for our father, for our dear lord Clarence!

DUCHESS OF YORK
Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence!

QUEEN ELIZABETH
What stay had I but Edward? and he's gone.

Children
What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone.

DUCHESS OF YORK
What stays had I but they? and they are gone.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Was never widow had so dear a loss!

Children
Were never orphans had so dear a loss!

DUCHESS OF YORK
Was never mother had so dear a loss!
Alas, I am the mother of these moans!
Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general.
She for an Edward weeps, and so do I;
I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she:
These babes for Clarence weep and so do I;
I for an Edward weep, so do not they:
Alas, you three, on me, threefold distress'd,
Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse,
And I will pamper it with lamentations.

DORSET
Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeased
That you take with unthankfulness, his doing:
In common worldly things, 'tis call'd ungrateful,
With dull unwilligness to repay a debt
Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent;
Much more to be thus opposite with heaven,
For it requires the royal debt it lent you.

RIVERS
Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother,
Of the young prince your son: send straight for him
Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives:
Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave,
And plant your joys in living Edward's throne.

Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF

GLOUCESTER
Madam, have comfort: all of us have cause
To wail the dimming of our shining star;
But none can cure their harms by wailing them.
Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy;
I did not see your grace: humbly on my knee
I crave your blessing.

DUCHESS OF YORK
God bless thee; and put meekness in thy mind,
Love, charity, obedience, and true duty!

GLOUCESTER
[Aside] Amen; and make me die a good old man!
That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing:
I marvel why her grace did leave it out.

BUCKINGHAM
You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers,
That bear this mutual heavy load of moan,
Now cheer each other in each other's love
Though we have spent our harvest of this king,
We are to reap the harvest of his son.
The broken rancour of your high-swoln hearts,
But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together,
Must gently be preserved, cherish'd, and kept:
Me seemeth good, that, with some little train,
Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetch'd
Hither to London, to be crown'd our king.

RIVERS
Why with some little train, my Lord of Buckingham?

BUCKINGHAM
Marry, my lord, lest, by a multitude,
The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out,
Which would be so much the more dangerous
By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd:
Where every horse bears his commanding rein,
And may direct his course as please himself,
As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent,
In my opinion, ought to be prevented.

GLOUCESTER
I hope the king made peace with all of us
And the compact is firm and true in me.

RIVERS
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.

HASTINGS
And so say I.

GLOUCESTER
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 weighty business?

QUEEN ELIZABETH DUCHESS OF YORK
With all our harts.

Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOUCESTER

BUCKINGHAM
My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince,
For God's sake, let not us two be behind;
For, by the way, I'll sort occasion,
As index to the story we late talk'd of,
To part the queen's proud kindred from the king.

GLOUCESTER
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.

Exeunt

SCENE III. London. A street.

Enter two Citizens meeting
First Citizen
Neighbour, well met: whither away so fast?

Second Citizen
I promise you, I scarcely know myself:
Hear you the news abroad?

First Citizen
Ay, that the king is dead.

Second Citizen
Bad news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better:
I fear, I fear 'twill prove a troublous world.

Enter another Citizen

Third Citizen
Neighbours, God speed!

First Citizen
Give you good morrow, sir.

Third Citizen
Doth this news hold of good King Edward's death?

Second Citizen
Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while!

Third Citizen
Then, masters, look to see a troublous world.

First Citizen
No, no; by God's good grace his son shall reign.

Third Citizen
Woe to the land that's govern'd by a child!

Second Citizen
In him there is a hope of government,
That in his nonage council under him,
And in his full and ripen'd years himself,
No doubt, shall then and till then govern well.

First Citizen
So stood the state when Henry the Sixth
Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old.

Third Citizen
Stood the state so? No, no, good friends, God wot;
For then this land was famously enrich'd
With politic grave counsel; then the king
Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace.

First Citizen
Why, so hath this, both by the father and mother.

Third Citizen
Better it were they all came by the father,
Or by the father there were none at all;
For emulation now, who shall be nearest,
Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not.
O, full of danger is the Duke of Gloucester!
And the queen's sons and brothers haught and proud:
And were they to be ruled, and not to rule,
This sickly land might solace as before.

First Citizen
Come, come, we fear the worst; all shall be well.

Third Citizen
When clouds appear, wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand;
When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?
Untimely storms make men expect a dearth.
All may be well; but, if God sort it so,
'Tis more than we deserve, or I expect.

Second Citizen
Truly, the souls of men are full of dread:
Ye cannot reason almost with a man
That looks not heavily and full of fear.

Third Citizen
Before the times of change, still is it so:
By a divine instinct men's minds mistrust
Ensuing dangers; as by proof, we see
The waters swell before a boisterous storm.
But leave it all to God. whither away?

Second Citizen
Marry, we were sent for to the justices.

Third Citizen
And so was I: I'll bear you company.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. London. The palace.

Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, young YORK, QUEEN ELIZABETH, and the DUCHESS OF YORK
ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
Last night, I hear, they lay at Northampton;
At Stony-Stratford will they be to-night:
To-morrow, or next day, they will be here.

DUCHESS OF YORK
I long with all my heart to see the prince:
I hope he is much grown since last I saw him.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
But I hear, no; they say my son of York
Hath almost overta'en him in his growth.

YORK
Ay, mother; but I would not have it so.

DUCHESS OF YORK
Why, my young cousin, it is good to grow.

YORK
Grandam, one night, as we did sit at supper,
My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow
More than my brother: 'Ay,' quoth my uncle
Gloucester,
'Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace:'
And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast,
Because sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.

DUCHESS OF YORK
Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold
In him that did object the same to thee;
He was the wretched'st thing when he was young,
So long a-growing and so leisurely,
That, if this rule were true, he should be gracious.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
Why, madam, so, no doubt, he is.

DUCHESS OF YORK
I hope he is; but yet let mothers doubt.

YORK
Now, by my troth, if I had been remember'd,
I could have given my uncle's grace a flout,
To touch his growth nearer than he touch'd mine.

DUCHESS OF YORK
How, my pretty York? I pray thee, let me hear it.

YORK
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.
Grandam, this would have been a biting jest.

DUCHESS OF YORK
I pray thee, pretty York, who told thee this?

YORK
Grandam, his nurse.

DUCHESS OF YORK
His nurse! why, she was dead ere thou wert born.

YORK
If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
A parlous boy: go to, you are too shrewd.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
Good madam, be not angry with the child.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Pitchers have ears.

Enter a Messenger

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
Here comes a messenger. What news?

Messenger
Such news, my lord, as grieves me to unfold.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
How fares the prince?

Messenger
Well, madam, and in health.

DUCHESS OF YORK
What is thy news then?

Messenger
Lord Rivers and Lord Grey are sent to Pomfret,
With them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners.

DUCHESS OF YORK
Who hath committed them?

Messenger
The mighty dukes
Gloucester and Buckingham.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
For what offence?

Messenger
The sum of all I can, I have disclosed;
Why or for what these nobles were committed
Is all unknown to me, my gracious lady.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Ay me, I see the downfall of our house!
The tiger now hath seized the gentle hind;
Insulting tyranny begins to jet
Upon the innocent and aweless throne:
Welcome, destruction, death, and massacre!
I see, as in a map, the end of all.

DUCHESS OF YORK
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 toss'd,
For me to joy and weep their gain and loss:
And being seated, and domestic broils
Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors.
Make war upon themselves; blood against blood,
Self against self: O, preposterous
And frantic outrage, end thy damned spleen;
Or let me die, to look on death no more!

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Come, come, my boy; we will to sanctuary.
Madam, farewell.

DUCHESS OF YORK
I'll go along with you.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
You have no cause.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
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.

Exeunt
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ACT III
SCENE I. London. A street.

The trumpets sound. Enter the young PRINCE EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, CARDINAL, CATESBY, and others
BUCKINGHAM
Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber.

GLOUCESTER
Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sovereign
The weary way hath made you melancholy.

PRINCE EDWARD
No, uncle; but our crosses on the way
Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy
I want more uncles here to welcome me.

GLOUCESTER
Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years
Hath not yet dived into the world's deceit
Nor 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 sugar'd words,
But look'd not on the poison of their hearts :
God keep you from them, and from such false friends!

PRINCE EDWARD
God keep me from false friends! but they were none.

GLOUCESTER
My lord, the mayor of London comes to greet you.

Enter the Lord Mayor and his train

Lord Mayor
God bless your grace with health and happy days!

PRINCE EDWARD
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!

Enter HASTINGS

BUCKINGHAM
And, in good time, here comes the sweating lord.

PRINCE EDWARD
Welcome, my lord: what, will our mother come?

HASTINGS
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.

BUCKINGHAM
Fie, what an indirect and peevish course
Is this of hers! Lord cardinal, will your grace
Persuade the queen to send the Duke of York
Unto his princely brother presently?
If she deny, Lord Hastings, go with him,
And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce.

CARDINAL
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.

BUCKINGHAM
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 who have the wit to claim the place:
This prince hath neither claim'd it nor deserved it;
And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it:
Then, taking him from thence that is not there,
You break no privilege nor charter there.
Oft have I heard of sanctuary men;
But sanctuary children ne'er till now.

CARDINAL
My lord, you shall o'er-rule my mind for once.
Come on, Lord Hastings, will you go with me?

HASTINGS
I go, my lord.

PRINCE EDWARD
Good lords, make all the speedy haste you may.

Exeunt CARDINAL and HASTINGS

Say, uncle Gloucester, if our brother come,
Where shall we sojourn till our coronation?

GLOUCESTER
Where it seems best unto your royal self.
If I 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.

PRINCE EDWARD
I do not like the Tower, of any place.
Did Julius Caesar build that place, my lord?

BUCKINGHAM
He did, my gracious lord, begin that place;
Which, since, succeeding ages have re-edified.

PRINCE EDWARD
Is it upon record, or else reported
Successively from age to age, he built it?

BUCKINGHAM
Upon record, my gracious lord.

PRINCE EDWARD
But say, my lord, it were not register'd,
Methinks the truth should live from age to age,
As 'twere retail'd to all posterity,
Even to the general all-ending day.

GLOUCESTER
[Aside] So wise so young, they say, do never
live long.

PRINCE EDWARD
What say you, uncle?

GLOUCESTER
I say, without characters, fame lives long.

Aside

Thus, like the formal vice, Iniquity,
I moralize two meanings in one word.

PRINCE EDWARD
That Julius Caesar was a famous man;
With what his valour did enrich his wit,
His wit set down to make his valour live
Death makes no conquest of this conqueror;
For now he lives in fame, though not in life.
I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham,--

BUCKINGHAM
What, my gracious lord?

PRINCE EDWARD
An if I live until I be a man,
I'll win our ancient right in France again,
Or die a soldier, as I lived a king.

GLOUCESTER
[Aside] Short summers lightly have a forward spring.

Enter young YORK, HASTINGS, and the CARDINAL

BUCKINGHAM
Now, in good time, here comes the Duke of York.

PRINCE EDWARD
Richard of York! how fares our loving brother?

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

PRINCE EDWARD
Ay, brother, to our grief, as it is yours:
Too late he died that might have kept that title,
Which by his death hath lost much majesty.

GLOUCESTER
How fares our cousin, noble Lord of York?

YORK
I thank you, gentle uncle. O, my lord,
You said that idle weeds are fast in growth
The prince my brother hath outgrown me far.

GLOUCESTER
He hath, my lord.

YORK
And therefore is he idle?

GLOUCESTER
O, my fair cousin, I must not say so.

YORK
Then is he more beholding to you than I.

GLOUCESTER
He may command me as my sovereign;
But you have power in me as in a kinsman.

YORK
I pray you, uncle, give me this dagger.

GLOUCESTER
My dagger, little cousin? with all my heart.

PRINCE EDWARD
A beggar, brother?

YORK
Of my kind uncle, that I know will give;
And being but a toy, which is no grief to give.

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

YORK
A greater gift! O, that's the sword to it.

GLOUCESTER
A gentle cousin, were it light enough.

YORK
O, then, I see, you will part but with light gifts;
In weightier things you'll say a beggar nay.

GLOUCESTER
It is too heavy for your grace to wear.

YORK
I weigh it lightly, were it heavier.

GLOUCESTER
What, would you have my weapon, little lord?

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

GLOUCESTER
How?

YORK
Little.

PRINCE EDWARD
My Lord of York will still be cross in talk:
Uncle, your grace knows how to bear with him.

YORK
You mean, to bear me, not to bear with me:
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 shoulders.

BUCKINGHAM
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.

GLOUCESTER
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.

YORK
What, will you go unto the Tower, my lord?

PRINCE EDWARD
My lord protector needs will have it so.

YORK
I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower.

GLOUCESTER
Why, what should you fear?

YORK
Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost:
My grandam told me he was murdered there.

PRINCE EDWARD
I fear no uncles dead.

GLOUCESTER
Nor none that live, I hope.

PRINCE EDWARD
An if they live, I hope I need not fear.
But come, my lord; and with a heavy heart,
Thinking on them, go I unto the Tower.

A Sennet. Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM and CATESBY

BUCKINGHAM
Think you, my lord, this little prating York
Was not incensed by his subtle mother
To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously?

GLOUCESTER
No doubt, no doubt; O, 'tis a parlous boy;
Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable
He is all the mother's, from the top to toe.

BUCKINGHAM
Well, let them rest. Come hither, Catesby.
Thou art sworn as deeply to effect what we intend
As closely to conceal what we impart:
Thou know'st our reasons urged upon the way;
What think'st thou? is it not an easy matter
To make William Lord Hastings of our mind,
For the instalment of this noble duke
In the seat royal of this famous isle?

CATESBY
He for his father's sake so loves the prince,
That he will not be won to aught against him.

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

CATESBY
He will do all in all as Hastings doth.

BUCKINGHAM
Well, then, no more but this: go, gentle Catesby,
And, as it were far off sound thou Lord Hastings,
How doth he stand affected to our purpose;
And summon him to-morrow to the Tower,
To sit about 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:
For we to-morrow hold divided councils,
Wherein thyself shalt highly be employ'd.

GLOUCESTER
Commend me to Lord William: tell him, Catesby,
His ancient knot of dangerous adversaries
To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret-castle;
And bid my friend, for joy of this good news,
Give mistress Shore one gentle kiss the more.

BUCKINGHAM
Good Catesby, go, effect this business soundly.

CATESBY
My good lords both, with all the heed I may.

GLOUCESTER
Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we sleep?

CATESBY
You shall, my lord.

GLOUCESTER
At Crosby Place, there shall you find us both.

Exit CATESBY

BUCKINGHAM
Now, my lord, what shall we do, if we perceive
Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots?

GLOUCESTER
Chop off his head, man; somewhat we will do:
And, look, when I am king, claim thou of me
The earldom of Hereford, and the moveables
Whereof the king my brother stood possess'd.

BUCKINGHAM
I'll claim that promise at your grace's hands.

GLOUCESTER
And look to have it yielded with all willingness.
Come, let us sup betimes, that afterwards
We may digest our complots in some form.

Exeunt

SCENE II. Before Lord Hastings' house.

Enter a Messenger
Messenger
What, ho! my lord!

HASTINGS
[Within] Who knocks at the door?

Messenger
A messenger from the Lord Stanley.

Enter HASTINGS

HASTINGS
What is't o'clock?

Messenger
Upon the stroke of four.

HASTINGS
Cannot thy master sleep these tedious nights?

Messenger
So it should seem by that I have to say.
First, he commends him to your noble lordship.

HASTINGS
And then?

Messenger
And then he sends you word
He dreamt to-night the boar had razed his helm:
Besides, he says there are two councils held;
And that may be determined at the one
which may make you and him to rue at the other.
Therefore he sends to know your lordship's pleasure,
If presently you will take horse with him,
And with all speed post with him toward the north,
To shun the danger that his soul divines.

HASTINGS
Go, fellow, go, return unto thy lord;
Bid him not fear the separated councils
His honour and myself are at the one,
And at the other is my servant Catesby
Where nothing can proceed that toucheth us
Whereof I shall not have intelligence.
Tell him his fears are shallow, wanting instance:
And for his dreams, I wonder he is so fond
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.

Messenger
My gracious lord, I'll tell him what you say.

Exit

Enter CATESBY

CATESBY
Many good morrows to my noble lord!

HASTINGS
Good morrow, Catesby; you are early stirring
What news, what news, in this our tottering state?

CATESBY
It is a reeling world, indeed, my lord;
And I believe twill never stand upright
Tim Richard wear the garland of the realm.

HASTINGS
How! wear the garland! dost thou mean the crown?

CATESBY
Ay, my good lord.

HASTINGS
I'll have this crown of mine cut from my shoulders
Ere I will see the crown so foul misplaced.
But canst thou guess that he doth aim at it?

CATESBY
Ay, on my life; and hopes to find forward
Upon his party for the gain thereof:
And thereupon he sends you this good news,
That this same very day your enemies,
The kindred of the queen, must die at Pomfret.

HASTINGS
Indeed, I am no mourner for that news,
Because they have been still mine enemies:
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.

CATESBY
God keep your lordship in that gracious mind!

HASTINGS
But I shall laugh at this a twelve-month hence,
That they who brought me in my master's hate
I live to look upon their tragedy.
I tell thee, Catesby--

CATESBY
What, my lord?

HASTINGS
Ere a fortnight make me elder,
I'll send some packing that yet think not on it.

CATESBY
'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord,
When men are unprepared and look not for it.

HASTINGS
O monstrous, monstrous! and so falls it out
With Rivers, Vaughan, 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 and to Buckingham.

CATESBY
The princes both make high account of you;

Aside

For they account his head upon the bridge.

HASTINGS
I know they do; and I have well deserved it.

Enter STANLEY

Come on, come on; where is your boar-spear, man?
Fear you the boar, and go so unprovided?

STANLEY
My lord, good morrow; good morrow, Catesby:
You may jest on, but, by the holy rood,
I do not like these several councils, I.

HASTINGS
My lord,
I hold my life as dear as you do yours;
And never in my life, I do protest,
Was it more precious to me than 'tis now:
Think you, but that I know our state secure,
I would be so triumphant as I am?

STANLEY
The lords at Pomfret, when they rode from London,
Were jocund, and supposed their state was sure,
And they indeed had no cause to mistrust;
But yet, you see how soon the day o'ercast.
This sudden stag of rancour I misdoubt:
Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward!
What, shall we toward the Tower? the day is spent.

HASTINGS
Come, come, have with you. Wot you what, my lord?
To-day the lords you talk of are beheaded.

LORD STANLEY
They, for their truth, might better wear their heads
Than some that have accused them wear their hats.
But come, my lord, let us away.

Enter a Pursuivant

HASTINGS
Go on before; I'll talk with this good fellow.

Exeunt STANLEY and CATESBY

How now, sirrah! how goes the world with thee?

Pursuivant
The better that your lordship please to ask.

HASTINGS
I tell thee, man, 'tis better with me now
Than when I met thee last where now we meet:
Then was I going prisoner to the Tower,
By the suggestion of the queen's allies;
But now, I tell thee--keep it to thyself--
This day those enemies are put to death,
And I in better state than e'er I was.

Pursuivant
God hold it, to your honour's good content!

HASTINGS
Gramercy, fellow: there, drink that for me.

Throws him his purse

Pursuivant
God save your lordship!

Exit

Enter a Priest

Priest
Well met, my lord; I am glad to see your honour.

HASTINGS
I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my heart.
I am in your debt for your last exercise;
Come the next Sabbath, and I will content you.

He whispers in his ear

Enter BUCKINGHAM

BUCKINGHAM
What, talking with a priest, lord chamberlain?
Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the priest;
Your honour hath no shriving work in hand.

HASTINGS
Good faith, and when I met this holy man,
Those men you talk of came into my mind.
What, go you toward the Tower?

BUCKINGHAM
I do, my lord; but long I shall not stay
I shall return before your lordship thence.

HASTINGS
'Tis like enough, for I stay dinner there.

BUCKINGHAM
[Aside] And supper too, although thou know'st it not.
Come, will you go?

HASTINGS
I'll wait upon your lordship.

Exeunt

SCENE III. Pomfret Castle.

Enter RATCLIFF, with halberds, carrying RIVERS, GREY, and VAUGHAN to death
RATCLIFF
Come, bring forth the prisoners.

RIVERS
Sir Richard Ratcliff, let me tell thee this:
To-day shalt thou behold a subject die
For truth, for duty, and for loyalty.

GREY
God keep the prince from all the pack of you!
A knot you are of damned blood-suckers!

VAUGHAN
You live that shall cry woe for this after.

RATCLIFF
Dispatch; the limit of your lives is out.

RIVERS
O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison,
Fatal and ominous to noble peers!
Within the guilty closure of thy walls
Richard the second here was hack'd to death;
And, for more slander to thy dismal seat,
We give thee up our guiltless blood to drink.

GREY
Now Margaret's curse is fall'n upon our heads,
For standing by when Richard stabb'd her son.

RIVERS
Then cursed she Hastings, then cursed she Buckingham,
Then cursed she Richard. O, remember, God
To hear her prayers for them, as now for us
And for my sister and her princely sons,
Be satisfied, dear God, with our true blood,
Which, as thou know'st, unjustly must be spilt.

RATCLIFF
Make haste; the hour of death is expiate.

RIVERS
Come, Grey, come, Vaughan, let us all embrace:
And take our leave, until we meet in heaven.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. The Tower of London.

Enter BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, the BISHOP OF ELY, RATCLIFF, LOVEL, with others, and take their seats at a table
HASTINGS
My lords, at once: the cause why we are met
Is, to determine of the coronation.
In God's name, speak: when is the royal day?

BUCKINGHAM
Are all things fitting for that royal time?

DERBY
It is, and wants but nomination.

BISHOP OF ELY
To-morrow, then, I judge a happy day.

BUCKINGHAM
Who knows the lord protector's mind herein?
Who is most inward with the royal duke?

BISHOP OF ELY
Your grace, we think, should soonest know his mind.

BUCKINGHAM
Who, I, my lord I we know each other's faces,
But for our hearts, he knows no more of mine,
Than I of yours;
Nor I no more of his, than you of mine.
Lord Hastings, you and he are near in love.

HASTINGS
I thank his grace, I know he loves me well;
But, for his purpose in the coronation.
I have not sounded him, nor he deliver'd
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.

Enter GLOUCESTER

BISHOP OF ELY
Now in good time, here comes the duke himself.

GLOUCESTER
My noble lords and cousins all, good morrow.
I have been long a sleeper; but, I hope,
My absence doth neglect no great designs,
Which by my presence might have been concluded.

BUCKINGHAM
Had not you come upon your cue, my lord
William Lord Hastings had pronounced your part,--
I mean, your voice,--for crowning of the king.

GLOUCESTER
Than my Lord Hastings no man might be bolder;
His lordship knows me well, and loves me well.

HASTINGS
I thank your grace.

GLOUCESTER
My lord of Ely!

BISHOP OF ELY
My lord?

GLOUCESTER
When I was last in Holborn,
I saw good strawberries in your garden there
I do beseech you send for some of them.

BISHOP OF ELY
Marry, and will, my lord, with all my heart.

Exit

GLOUCESTER
Cousin of Buckingham, a word with you.

Drawing him aside

Catesby hath sounded Hastings in our business,
And finds the testy gentleman so hot,
As he will lose his head ere give consent
His master's son, as worshipful as he terms it,
Shall lose the royalty of England's throne.

BUCKINGHAM
Withdraw you hence, my lord, I'll follow you.

Exit GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM following

DERBY
We have not yet set down this day of triumph.
To-morrow, in mine opinion, is too sudden;
For I myself am not so well provided
As else I would be, were the day prolong'd.

Re-enter BISHOP OF ELY

BISHOP OF ELY
Where is my lord protector? I have sent for these
strawberries.

HASTINGS
His grace looks cheerfully and smooth to-day;
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 less hide his love or hate than he;
For by his face straight shall you know his heart.

DERBY
What of his heart perceive you in his face
By any likelihood he show'd to-day?

HASTINGS
Marry, that with no man here he is offended;
For, were he, he had shown it in his looks.

DERBY
I pray God he be not, I say.

Re-enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM

GLOUCESTER
I pray you all, tell me what they deserve
That do conspire my death with devilish plots
Of damned witchcraft, and that have prevail'd
Upon my body with their hellish charms?

HASTINGS
The tender love I bear your grace, my lord,
Makes me most forward in this noble presence
To doom the offenders, whatsoever they be
I say, my lord, they have deserved death.

GLOUCESTER
Then be your eyes the witness of this ill:
See how I am bewitch'd; behold mine arm
Is, like a blasted sapling, wither'd up:
And this is Edward's wife, that monstrous witch,
Consorted with that harlot strumpet Shore,
That by their witchcraft thus have marked me.

HASTINGS
If they have done this thing, my gracious lord--

GLOUCESTER
If I thou protector of this damned strumpet--
Tellest thou me of 'ifs'? Thou art a traitor:
Off with his head! Now, by Saint Paul I swear,
I will not dine until I see the same.
Lovel and Ratcliff, look that it be done:
The rest, that love me, rise and follow me.

Exeunt all but HASTINGS, RATCLIFF, and LOVEL

HASTINGS
Woe, woe for England! not a whit for me;
For I, too fond, might have prevented this.
Stanley did dream the boar did raze his helm;
But I disdain'd it, and did scorn to fly:
Three times to-day my foot-cloth horse did stumble,
And startled, when he look'd upon the Tower,
As loath to bear me to the slaughter-house.
O, now I want the priest that spake to me:
I now repent I told the pursuivant
As 'twere triumphing at mine enemies,
How they at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd,
And I myself secure in grace and favour.
O Margaret, Margaret, now thy heavy curse
Is lighted on poor Hastings' wretched head!

RATCLIFF
Dispatch, my lord; the duke would be at dinner:
Make a short shrift; he longs to see your head.

HASTINGS
O momentary grace of mortal men,
Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
Who builds his hopes in air of your good looks,
Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast,
Ready, with every nod, to tumble down
Into the fatal bowels of the deep.

LOVEL
Come, come, dispatch; 'tis bootless to exclaim.

HASTINGS
O bloody Richard! miserable England!
I prophesy the fearful'st time to thee
That ever wretched age hath look'd upon.
Come, lead me to the block; bear him my head.
They smile at me that shortly shall be dead.

Exeunt

SCENE V. The Tower-walls.

Enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM, in rotten armour, marvellous ill-favoured
GLOUCESTER
Come, cousin, canst thou quake, and change thy colour,
Murder thy breath in the middle of a word,
And then begin again, and stop again,
As if thou wert distraught and mad with terror?

BUCKINGHAM
Tut, I can counterfeit the deep tragedian;
Speak and look back, and pry on every side,
Tremble and start at wagging of a straw,
Intending deep suspicion: ghastly looks
Are at my service, like enforced smiles;
And both are ready in their offices,
At any time, to grace my stratagems.
But what, is Catesby gone?

GLOUCESTER
He is; and, see, he brings the mayor along.

Enter the Lord Mayor and CATESBY

BUCKINGHAM
Lord mayor,--

GLOUCESTER
Look to the drawbridge there!

BUCKINGHAM
Hark! a drum.

GLOUCESTER
Catesby, o'erlook the walls.

BUCKINGHAM
Lord mayor, the reason we have sent--

GLOUCESTER
Look back, defend thee, here are enemies.

BUCKINGHAM
God and our innocency defend and guard us!

GLOUCESTER
Be patient, they are friends, Ratcliff and Lovel.

Enter LOVEL and RATCLIFF, with HASTINGS' head

LOVEL
Here is the head of that ignoble traitor,
The dangerous and unsuspected Hastings.

GLOUCESTER
So dear I loved the man, that I must weep.
I took him for the plainest harmless creature
That breathed upon this earth a Christian;
Made him my book wherein my soul recorded
The history of all her secret thoughts:
So smooth he daub'd his vice with show of virtue,
That, his apparent open guilt omitted,
I mean, his conversation with Shore's wife,
He lived from all attainder of suspect.

BUCKINGHAM
Well, well, he was the covert'st shelter'd traitor
That ever lived.
Would you imagine, or almost believe,
Were't not that, 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?

Lord Mayor
What, had he so?

GLOUCESTER
What, think You we are Turks or infidels?
Or that we would, against the form of law,
Proceed thus rashly to the villain's death,
But that the extreme peril of the case,
The peace of England and our persons' safety,
Enforced us to this execution?

Lord Mayor
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 look'd for better at his hands,
After he once fell in with Mistress Shore.

GLOUCESTER
Yet had not we determined he should die,
Until your lordship came to see his death;
Which now the loving haste of these our friends,
Somewhat against our meaning, have prevented:
Because, my lord, we would have had you heard
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.

Lord Mayor
But, my good lord, your grace's word shall serve,
As well as I had seen and heard him speak
And doubt you not, right noble princes both,
But I'll acquaint our duteous citizens
With all your just proceedings in this cause.

GLOUCESTER
And to that end we wish'd your lord-ship here,
To avoid the carping censures of the world.

BUCKINGHAM
But since you come too late of our intents,
Yet witness what you hear we did intend:
And so, my good lord mayor, we bid farewell.

Exit Lord Mayor

GLOUCESTER
Go, after, after, cousin Buckingham.
The mayor towards Guildhall hies him in all post:
There, at your meet'st advantage of the time,
Infer the bastardy of Edward's children:
Tell them how Edward put to death a citizen,
Only for saying he would make his son
Heir to the crown; meaning indeed his house,
Which, by the sign thereof was termed so.
Moreover, urge his hateful luxury
And bestial appetite in change of lust;
Which stretched to their servants, daughters, wives,
Even where his lustful eye or savage heart,
Without control, listed to make his prey.
Nay, for a need, thus far come near my person:
Tell them, when that my mother went with child
Of that unsatiate Edward, noble York
My princely father then had wars in France
And, by just computation of the time,
Found that the issue was not his begot;
Which well appeared in his lineaments,
Being nothing like the noble duke my father:
But touch this sparingly, as 'twere far off,
Because you know, my lord, my mother lives.

BUCKINGHAM
Fear not, my lord, I'll play the orator
As if the golden fee for which I plead
Were for myself: and so, my lord, adieu.

GLOUCESTER
If you thrive well, bring them to Baynard's Castle;
Where you shall find me well accompanied
With reverend fathers and well-learned bishops.

BUCKINGHAM
I go: and towards three or four o'clock
Look for the news that the Guildhall affords.

Exit BUCKINGHAM

GLOUCESTER
Go, Lovel, with all speed to Doctor Shaw;

To CATESBY

Go thou to Friar Penker; bid them both
Meet me within this hour at Baynard's Castle.

Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER

Now will I in, to take some privy order,
To draw the brats of Clarence out of sight;
And to give notice, that no manner of person
At any time have recourse unto the princes.

Exit

SCENE VI. The same.

Enter a Scrivener, with a paper in his hand
Scrivener
This is the indictment of the good Lord Hastings;
Which in a set hand fairly is engross'd,
That it may be this day read over in Paul's.
And mark how well the sequel hangs together:
Eleven hours I spent to write it over,
For yesternight by Catesby was it brought me;
The precedent was full as long a-doing:
And yet within these five hours lived Lord Hastings,
Untainted, unexamined, free, at liberty
Here's a good world the while! Why who's so gross,
That seeth not this palpable device?
Yet who's so blind, but says he sees it not?
Bad is the world; and all will come to nought,
When such bad dealings must be seen in thought.

Exit

SCENE VII. Baynard's Castle.

Enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM, at several doors
GLOUCESTER
How now, my lord, what say the citizens?

BUCKINGHAM
Now, by the holy mother of our Lord,
The citizens are mum and speak not a word.

GLOUCESTER
Touch'd you the bastardy of Edward's children?

BUCKINGHAM
I did; with his contract with Lady Lucy,
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,
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 dicipline in war, wisdom in peace,
Your bounty, virtue, fair humility:
Indeed, left nothing fitting for the purpose
Untouch'd, or slightly handled, in discourse
And when mine oratory grew to an end
I bid them that did love their country's good
Cry 'God save Richard, England's royal king!'

GLOUCESTER
Ah! and did they so?

BUCKINGHAM
No, so God help me, they spake not a word;
But, like dumb statues or breathing stones,
Gazed each on other, and look'd deadly pale.
Which when I saw, I reprehended them;
And ask'd the mayor what meant this wilful silence:
His answer was, the people were not wont
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 inferr'd;'
But nothing spake in warrant from himself.
When he had done, some followers of mine own,
At the lower end of the hall, hurl'd up their caps,
And some ten 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 loving shout
Argues your wisdoms and your love to Richard:'
And even here brake off, and came away.

GLOUCESTER
What tongueless blocks were they! would not they speak?

BUCKINGHAM
No, by my troth, my lord.

GLOUCESTER
Will not the mayor then and his brethren come?

BUCKINGHAM
The mayor is here at hand: intend some fear;
Be not you spoke with, but by mighty suit:
And look you get a prayer-book in your hand,
And stand betwixt two churchmen, good my lord;
For on that ground I'll build a holy descant:
And be not easily won to our request:
Play the maid's part, still answer nay, and take it.

GLOUCESTER
I go; and if you plead as well for them
As I can say nay to thee for myself,
No doubt well bring it to a happy issue.

BUCKINGHAM
Go, go, up to the leads; the lord mayor knocks.

Exit GLOUCESTER

Enter the Lord Mayor and Citizens

Welcome my lord; I dance attendance here;
I think the duke will not be spoke withal.

Enter CATESBY

Here comes his servant: how now, Catesby,
What says he?

CATESBY
My lord: he doth entreat your grace;
To visit him to-morrow or next day:
He is within, with two right reverend fathers,
Divinely bent to meditation;
And no worldly suit would he be moved,
To draw him from his holy exercise.

BUCKINGHAM
Return, good Catesby, to thy lord again;
Tell him, myself, the mayor and citizens,
In deep designs and matters of great moment,
No less importing than our general good,
Are come to have some conference with his grace.

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

Exit

BUCKINGHAM
Ah, ha, my lord, this prince is not an Edward!
He is not lolling on a lewd day-bed,
But on his knees at meditation;
Not dallying with a brace of courtezans,
But meditating with two deep divines;
Not sleeping, to engross his idle body,
But praying, to enrich his watchful soul:
Happy were England, would this gracious prince
Take on himself the sovereignty thereof:
But, sure, I fear, we shall ne'er win him to it.

Lord Mayor
Marry, God forbid his grace should say us nay!

BUCKINGHAM
I fear he will.

Re-enter CATESBY

How now, Catesby, what says your lord?

CATESBY
My lord,
He wonders to what end you have assembled
Such troops of citizens to speak with him,
His grace not being warn'd thereof before:
My lord, he fears you mean no good to him.

BUCKINGHAM
Sorry I am my noble cousin should
Suspect me, that I mean no good to him:
By heaven, I come in perfect love to him;
And so once more return and tell his grace.

Exit CATESBY

When holy and devout religious men
Are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence,
So sweet is zealous contemplation.

Enter GLOUCESTER aloft, between two Bishops. CATESBY returns

Lord Mayor
See, where he stands between two clergymen!

BUCKINGHAM
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 ornaments to know a holy man.
Famous Plantagenet, most gracious prince,
Lend favourable ears to our request;
And pardon us the interruption
Of thy devotion and right Christian zeal.

GLOUCESTER
My lord, there needs no such apology:
I rather do beseech you pardon me,
Who, earnest in the service of my God,
Neglect the visitation of my friends.
But, leaving this, what is your grace's pleasure?

BUCKINGHAM
Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above,
And all good men of this ungovern'd isle.

GLOUCESTER
I do suspect I have done some offence
That seems disgracious in the city's eyes,
And that you come to reprehend my ignorance.

BUCKINGHAM
You have, my lord: would it might please your grace,
At our entreaties, to amend that fault!

GLOUCESTER
Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land?

BUCKINGHAM
Then know, it is your fault that you resign
The supreme seat, the throne majestical,
The scepter'd office of your ancestors,
Your state of fortune and your due of birth,
The lineal glory of your royal house,
To the corruption of a blemished stock:
Whilst, in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts,
Which here we waken to our country's good,
This noble isle doth want her proper limbs;
Her face defaced with scars of infamy,
Her royal stock graft with ignoble plants,
And almost shoulder'd in the swallowing gulf
Of blind forgetfulness and dark oblivion.
Which to recure, 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 empery, your own.
For this, consorted with the citizens,
Your very worshipful and loving friends,
And by their vehement instigation,
In this just suit come I to move your grace.

GLOUCESTER
I know not whether to depart in silence,
Or bitterly to speak in your reproof.
Best fitteth my degree or your condition
If not to answer, you might haply think
Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded
To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty,
Which fondly you would here impose on me;
If to reprove you for this suit of yours,
So season'd with your faithful love to me.
Then, on the other side, I cheque'd my friends.
Therefore, to speak, and to avoid the first,
And then, in speaking, not to incur the last,
Definitively thus I answer you.
Your love deserves my thanks; but my desert
Unmeritable shuns your high request.
First if all obstacles were cut away,
And that my path were even to the crown,
As my ripe revenue and due by birth
Yet so much is my poverty of spirit,
So mighty and so many my defects,
As I had rather hide me from my greatness,
Being a bark to brook no mighty sea,
Than in my greatness covet to be hid,
And in the vapour of my glory smother'd.
But, God be thank'd, there's no need of me,
And much I need to help you, if need were;
The royal tree hath left us royal fruit,
Which, mellow'd by 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 what you would lay on me,
The right and fortune of his happy stars;
Which God defend that I should wring from him!

BUCKINGHAM
My lord, this argues conscience in your grace;
But the respects thereof are nice and trivial,
All circumstances well considered.
You say that Edward is your brother's son:
So say we too, but not by Edward's wife;
For first he was contract to Lady Lucy--
Your mother lives a witness to that vow--
And afterward by substitute betroth'd
To Bona, sister to the King of France.
These both put by a poor petitioner,
A care-crazed mother of a many children,
A beauty-waning and distressed widow,
Even in the afternoon of her best days,
Made prize and purchase of his lustful eye,
Seduced the pitch and height of all his thoughts
To base declension and loathed bigamy
By her, in his unlawful bed, he got
This Edward, whom our manners term the prince.
More bitterly could I expostulate,
Save that, for reverence to some alive,
I give a sparing limit to my tongue.
Then, good my lord, take to your royal self
This proffer'd benefit of dignity;
If non to bless us and the land withal,
Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry
From the corruption of abusing times,
Unto a lineal true-derived course.

Lord Mayor
Do, good my lord, your citizens entreat you.

BUCKINGHAM
Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer'd love.

CATESBY
O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit!

GLOUCESTER
Alas, why would you heap these cares on me?
I am unfit for state and majesty;
I do beseech you, take it not amiss;
I cannot nor I will not yield to you.

BUCKINGHAM
If you refuse it,--as, in love and zeal,
Loath to depose the child, Your brother's son;
As well we know your tenderness of heart
And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,
Which we have noted in you to your kin,
And egally indeed to all estates,--
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.

GLOUCESTER
O, do not swear, my lord of Buckingham.

Exit BUCKINGHAM with the Citizens

CATESBY
Call them again, my lord, and accept their suit.

ANOTHER
Do, good my lord, lest all the land do rue it.

GLOUCESTER
Would you enforce me to a world of care?
Well, call them again. I am not made of stone,
But penetrable to your. kind entreats,
Albeit against my conscience and my soul.

Re-enter BUCKINGHAM and the rest

Cousin of Buckingham, and you sage, grave men,
Since 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 if black scandal or foul-faced reproach
Attend the sequel of your imposition,
Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me
From all the impure blots and stains thereof;
For God he knows, and you may partly see,
How far I am from the desire thereof.

Lord Mayor
God bless your grace! we see it, and will say it.

GLOUCESTER
In saying so, you shall but say the truth.

BUCKINGHAM
Then I salute you with this kingly title:
Long live Richard, England's royal king!

Lord Mayor Citizens
Amen.

BUCKINGHAM
To-morrow will it please you to be crown'd?

GLOUCESTER
Even when you please, since you will have it so.

BUCKINGHAM
To-morrow, then, we will attend your grace:
And so most joyfully we take our leave.

GLOUCESTER
Come, let us to our holy task again.
Farewell, good cousin; farewell, gentle friends.

Exeunt

ACT IV
SCENE I. Before the Tower.

Enter, on one side, QUEEN ELIZABETH, DUCHESS OF YORK, and DORSET; on the other, ANNE, Duchess of Gloucester, leading Lady Margaret Plantagenet, CLARENCE's young Daughter
DUCHESS OF YORK
Who m eets 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 princes.
Daughter, well met.

LADY ANNE
God give your graces both
A happy and a joyful time of day!

QUEEN ELIZABETH
As much to you, good sister! Whither away?

LADY ANNE
No farther than the Tower; and, as I guess,
Upon the like devotion as yourselves,
To gratulate the gentle princes there.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Kind sister, thanks: we'll enter all 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?

BRAKENBURY
Right well, dear madam. By your patience,
I may not suffer you to visit them;
The king hath straitly charged the contrary.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
The king! why, who's that?

BRAKENBURY
I cry you mercy: I mean the lord protector.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
The Lord protect him from that kingly title!
Hath he set bounds betwixt their love and me?
I am their mother; who should keep me from them?

DUCHESS OF YORK
I am their fathers mother; I will see them.

LADY 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.

BRAKENBURY
No, madam, no; I may not leave it so:
I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.

Exit

Enter LORD STANLEY

LORD 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 LADY ANNE

Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster,
There to be crowned Richard's royal queen.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
O, cut my lace in sunder, that my pent heart
May have some scope to beat, or else I swoon
With this dead-killing news!

LADY ANNE
Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news!

DORSET
Be of good cheer: mother, how fares your grace?

QUEEN ELIZABETH
O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee hence!
Death and destruction dog thee at the 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 slaughter-house,
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.

LORD STANLEY
Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.
Take all the swift advantage of the hours;
You shall have letters from me to my son
To meet you on the way, and welcome you.
Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.

DUCHESS OF YORK
O ill-dispersing wind of misery!
O my accursed womb, the bed of death!
A cockatrice hast thou hatch'd to the world,
Whose unavoided eye is murderous.

LORD STANLEY
Come, madam, come; I in all haste was sent.

LADY ANNE
And I in all unwillingness will go.
I 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!

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory
To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm.

LADY ANNE
No! why? When he that is my husband now
Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse,
When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his hands
Which issued from my other angel husband
And that dead saint which then I weeping follow'd;
O, when, I say, I look'd 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 wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;
And be thy wife--if any be so mad--
As miserable by the life of thee
As thou hast made me by my dear lord's death!
Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,
Even in so short a space, my woman's heart
Grossly grew captive to his honey words
And proved the subject of my own soul's curse,
Which ever since hath kept my eyes from rest;
For never yet one hour in his bed
Have I enjoy'd the golden dew of sleep,
But have been waked by his timorous dreams.
Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick;
And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Poor heart, adieu! I pity thy complaining.

LADY ANNE
No more than from my soul I mourn for yours.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Farewell, thou woful welcomer of glory!

LADY ANNE
Adieu, poor soul, that takest thy leave of it!

DUCHESS OF YORK
[To DORSET]
Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee!

To LADY ANNE

Go thou to Richard, and good angels guard 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 wrecked with a week of teen.

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 sorrow bids your stones farewell.

Exeunt

SCENE II. London. The palace.

Sennet. Enter KING RICHARD III, in pomp, crowned; BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, a page, and others
KING RICHARD III
Stand all apart Cousin of Buckingham!

BUCKINGHAM
My gracious sovereign?

KING RICHARD III
Give me thy hand.

Here he ascendeth his throne

Thus high, by thy advice
And thy assistance, is King Richard seated;
But shall we wear these honours for a day?
Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?

BUCKINGHAM
Still live they and for ever may they last!

KING RICHARD III
O Buckingham, now do I play the touch,
To try if thou be current gold indeed
Young Edward lives: think now what I would say.

BUCKINGHAM
Say on, my loving lord.

KING RICHARD III
Why, Buckingham, I say, I would be king,

BUCKINGHAM
Why, so you are, my thrice renowned liege.

KING RICHARD III
Ha! am I king? 'tis so: but Edward lives.

BUCKINGHAM
True, noble prince.

KING RICHARD III
O bitter consequence,
That Edward still should live! 'True, noble prince!'
Cousin, thou wert not wont to be so dull:
Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead;
And I would have it suddenly perform'd.
What sayest thou? speak suddenly; be brief.

BUCKINGHAM
Your grace may do your pleasure.

KING RICHARD III
Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezeth:
Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?

BUCKINGHAM
Give me some breath, some little pause, my lord
Before I positively herein:
I will resolve your grace immediately.

Exit

CATESBY
[Aside to a stander by]
The king is angry: see, he bites the lip.

KING RICHARD III
I will converse with iron-witted fools
And unrespective boys: none are for me
That look into me with considerate eyes:
High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect.
Boy!

Page
My lord?

KING RICHARD III
Know'st thou not any whom corrupting gold
Would tempt unto a close exploit of death?

Page
My lord, I know a discontented gentleman,
Whose humble means match not his haughty mind:
Gold were as good as twenty orators,
And will, no doubt, tempt him to any thing.

KING RICHARD III
What is his name?

Page
His name, my lord, is Tyrrel.

KING RICHARD III
I partly know the man: go, call him hither.

Exit Page

The deep-revolving witty Buckingham
No more shall be the neighbour to my counsel:
Hath he so long held out with me untired,
And stops he now for breath?

Enter STANLEY

How now! what news with you?

STANLEY
My lord, I hear the Marquis Dorset's fled
To Richmond, in those parts beyond the sea
Where he abides.

Stands apart

KING RICHARD III
Catesby!

CATESBY
My lord?

KING RICHARD III
Rumour it abroad
That Anne, my wife, is sick and like to die:
I will take order for her keeping close.
Inquire me out some mean-born gentleman,
Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' daughter:
The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.
Look, how thou dream'st! I say again, give out
That Anne my wife is sick and like to die:
About it; for it stands me much upon,
To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me.

Exit CATESBY

I must be married to my brother's daughter,
Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass.
Murder her brothers, and then marry her!
Uncertain 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.

Re-enter Page, with TYRREL

Is thy name Tyrrel?

TYRREL
James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject.

KING RICHARD III
Art thou, indeed?

TYRREL
Prove me, my gracious sovereign.

KING RICHARD III
Darest thou resolve to kill a friend of mine?

TYRREL
Ay, my lord;
But I had rather kill two enemies.

KING RICHARD III
Why, there 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:
Tyrrel, I mean those bastards in the Tower.

TYRREL
Let me have open means to come to them,
And soon I'll rid you from the fear of them.

KING RICHARD III
Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrel
Go, by this token: rise, and lend thine ear:

Whispers

There is no more but so: say it is done,
And I will love thee, and prefer thee too.

TYRREL
'Tis done, my gracious lord.

KING RICHARD III
Shall we hear from thee, Tyrrel, ere we sleep?

TYRREL
Ye shall, my Lord.

Exit

Re-enter BUCKINGHAM

BUCKINGHAM
My Lord, I have consider'd in my mind
The late demand that you did sound me in.

KING RICHARD III
Well, let that pass. Dorset is fled to Richmond.

BUCKINGHAM
I hear that news, my lord.

KING RICHARD III
Stanley, he is your wife's son well, look to it.

BUCKINGHAM
My lord, I claim your gift, my due by promise,
For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd;
The earldom of Hereford and the moveables
The which you promised I should possess.

KING RICHARD III
Stanley, look to your wife; if she convey
Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.

BUCKINGHAM
What says your highness to my just demand?

KING RICHARD III
As I remember, Henry the Sixth
Did prophesy that Richmond should be king,
When Richmond was a little peevish boy.
A king, perhaps, perhaps,--

BUCKINGHAM
My lord!

KING RICHARD III
How chance the prophet could not at that time
Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him?

BUCKINGHAM
My lord, your promise for the earldom,--

KING RICHARD III
Richmond! When last I was at Exeter,
The mayor in courtesy show'd me the castle,
And call'd it Rougemont: at which name I started,
Because a bard of Ireland told me once
I should not live long after I saw Richmond.

BUCKINGHAM
My Lord!

KING RICHARD III
Ay, what's o'clock?

BUCKINGHAM
I am thus bold to put your grace in mind
Of what you promised me.

KING RICHARD III
Well, but what's o'clock?

BUCKINGHAM
Upon the stroke of ten.

KING RICHARD III
Well, let it strike.

BUCKINGHAM
Why let it strike?

KING RICHARD III
Because that, like a Jack, thou keep'st the stroke
Betwixt thy begging and my meditation.
I am not in the giving vein to-day.

BUCKINGHAM
Why, then resolve me whether you will or no.

KING RICHARD III
Tut, tut,
Thou troublest me; am not in the vein.

Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM

BUCKINGHAM
Is it even so? rewards he my true service
With such deep contempt made I him king for this?
O, let me think on Hastings, and be gone
To Brecknock, while my fearful head is on!

Exit

SCENE III. The same.

Enter TYRREL
TYRREL
The tyrannous and bloody deed is done.
The most arch of piteous massacre
That ever yet this land was guilty of.
Dighton and Forrest, whom I did suborn
To do this ruthless piece of butchery,
Although they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs,
Melting with tenderness and kind compassion
Wept like two children in their deaths' sad stories.
'Lo, thus' quoth Dighton, 'lay those tender babes:'
'Thus, thus,' quoth Forrest, 'girdling one another
Within their innocent alabaster arms:
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,
Which in their summer beauty kiss'd each other.
A book of prayers on their pillow lay;
Which once,' quoth Forrest, 'almost changed my mind;
But O! the devil'--there the villain stopp'd
Whilst Dighton thus told on: 'We smothered
The most replenished sweet work of nature,
That from the prime creation e'er she framed.'
Thus both are gone with conscience and remorse;
They could not speak; and so I left them both,
To bring this tidings to the bloody king.
And here he comes.

Enter KING RICHARD III

All hail, my sovereign liege!

KING RICHARD III
Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in thy news?

TYRREL
If to have done the thing you gave in charge
Beget your happiness, be happy then,
For it is done, my lord.

KING RICHARD III
But didst thou see them dead?

TYRREL
I did, my lord.

KING RICHARD III
And buried, gentle Tyrrel?

TYRREL
The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them;
But how or in what place I do not know.

KING RICHARD III
Come to me, Tyrrel, soon at after supper,
And thou shalt tell the process of their death.
Meantime, but think how I may do thee good,
And be inheritor of thy desire.
Farewell till soon.

Exit TYRREL

The son of Clarence have I pent up close;
His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage;
The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom,
And Anne my wife hath bid the world good night.
Now, for I know the Breton Richmond aims
At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter,
And, by that knot, looks proudly o'er the crown,
To her I go, a jolly thriving wooer.

Enter CATESBY

CATESBY
My lord!

KING RICHARD III
Good news or bad, that thou comest in so bluntly?

CATESBY
Bad news, my lord: Ely is fled to Richmond;
And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welshmen,
Is in the field, and still his power increaseth.

KING RICHARD III
Ely with Richmond troubles me more near
Than Buckingham and his rash-levied army.
Come, I have heard that fearful commenting
Is leaden servitor to dull delay;
Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary
Then fiery expedition be my wing,
Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king!
Come, muster men: my counsel is my shield;
We must be brief when traitors brave the field.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. Before the palace.

Enter QUEEN MARGARET
QUEEN MARGARET
So, now prosperity begins to mellow
And drop into the rotten mouth of death.
Here in these confines slily have I lurk'd,
To watch the waning of mine adversaries.
A dire induction am I witness to,
And will to France, hoping the consequence
Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.
Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret: who comes here?

Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and the DUCHESS OF YORK

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Ah, my young princes! ah, my tender babes!
My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets!
If yet your gentle souls fly in the air
And be not fix'd in doom perpetual,
Hover about me with your airy wings
And hear your mother's lamentation!

QUEEN MARGARET
Hover about her; say, that right for right
Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night.

DUCHESS OF YORK
So many miseries have crazed my voice,
That my woe-wearied tongue is mute and dumb,
Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?

QUEEN MARGARET
Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet.
Edward for Edward pays a dying debt.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs,
And throw them in the entrails of the wolf?
When didst thou sleep when such a deed was done?

QUEEN MARGARET
When holy Harry died, and my sweet son.

DUCHESS OF YORK
Blind sight, dead life, poor mortal living ghost,
Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life usurp'd,
Brief abstract and record of tedious days,
Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth,

Sitting down

Unlawfully made drunk with innocents' blood!

QUEEN ELIZABETH
O, that thou wouldst as well afford a grave
As thou canst yield a melancholy seat!
Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here.
O, who hath any cause to mourn but I?

Sitting down by her

QUEEN MARGARET
If ancient sorrow be most reverend,
Give mine the benefit of seniory,
And let my woes frown on the upper hand.
If sorrow can admit society,

Sitting down with them

Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine:
I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him;
I had a Harry, till a Richard kill'd him:
Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him;
Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard killed him;

DUCHESS OF YORK
I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him;
I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him.

QUEEN MARGARET
Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard kill'd him.
From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept
A hell-hound that doth hunt us all to death:
That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes,
To worry lambs and lap their gentle blood,
That foul defacer of God's handiwork,
That excellent grand tyrant of the earth,
That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls,
Thy womb let loose, to chase us to our graves.
O upright, just, and true-disposing God,
How do I thank thee, that this carnal cur
Preys on the issue of his mother's body,
And makes her pew-fellow with others' moan!

DUCHESS OF YORK
O Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes!
God witness with me, I have wept for thine.

QUEEN MARGARET
Bear with me; I am hungry for revenge,
And now I cloy me with beholding it.
Thy Edward he is dead, that stabb'd my Edward:
Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward;
Young York he is but boot, because both they
Match not the high perfection of my loss:
Thy Clarence he is dead that kill'd my Edward;
And the beholders of this tragic play,
The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey,
Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves.
Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer,
Only reserved their factor, to buy souls
And send them thither: but at hand, at hand,
Ensues his piteous and unpitied end:
Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray.
To have him suddenly convey'd away.
Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I prey,
That I may live to say, The dog is dead!

QUEEN ELIZABETH
O, thou didst prophesy the time would come
That I should wish for thee to help me curse
That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad!

QUEEN MARGARET
I call'd thee then vain flourish of my fortune;
I call'd thee then poor shadow, painted queen;
The presentation of but what I was;
The flattering index of a direful pageant;
One heaved a-high, to be hurl'd down below;
A mother only mock'd with two sweet babes;
A dream of what thou wert, a breath, a bubble,
A sign of dignity, a garish flag,
To be the aim of every dangerous shot,
A queen in jest, only to fill the scene.
Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers?
Where are thy children? wherein dost thou, joy?
Who sues to thee and cries 'God save the queen'?
Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee?
Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee?
Decline all this, and see what now thou art:
For happy wife, a most distressed widow;
For joyful mother, one that wails the name;
For queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care;
For one being sued to, one that humbly sues;
For one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me;
For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one;
For one commanding all, obey'd of none.
Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about,
And left thee but a very prey to time;
Having no more but thought of what thou wert,
To torture thee the more, being what thou art.
Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not
Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow?
Now thy proud neck bears half my burthen'd yoke;
From which even here I slip my weary neck,
And leave the burthen of it all on thee.
Farewell, York's wife, and queen of sad mischance:
These English woes will make me smile in France.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
O thou well skill'd in curses, stay awhile,
And teach me how to curse mine enemies!

QUEEN MARGARET
Forbear to sleep the nights, and fast the days;
Compare dead happiness with living woe;
Think that thy babes were fairer than they were,
And he that slew them fouler than he is:
Bettering thy loss makes the bad causer worse:
Revolving this will teach thee how to curse.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
My words are dull; O, quicken them with thine!

QUEEN MARGARET
Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce like mine.

Exit

DUCHESS OF YORK
Why should calamity be full of words?

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Windy attorneys to their client woes,
Airy succeeders of intestate joys,
Poor breathing orators of miseries!
Let them have scope: though what they do impart
Help not all, yet do they ease the heart.

DUCHESS OF YORK
If so, then be not tongue-tied: go with me.
And in the breath of bitter words let's smother
My damned son, which thy two sweet sons smother'd.
I hear his drum: be copious in exclaims.

Enter KING RICHARD III, marching, with drums and trumpets

KING RICHARD III
Who intercepts my expedition?

DUCHESS OF YORK
O, she that might have intercepted thee,
By strangling thee in her accursed womb
From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done!

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Hidest thou that forehead with a golden crown,
Where should be graven, if that right were right,
The slaughter of the prince that owed that crown,
And the dire death of my two sons and brothers?
Tell me, thou villain slave, where are my children?

DUCHESS OF YORK
Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother Clarence?
And little Ned Plantagenet, his son?

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Where is kind Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey?

KING RICHARD III
A flourish, trumpets! strike alarum, drums!
Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women
Rail on the Lord's enointed: strike, I say!

Flourish. Alarums

Either be patient, and entreat me fair,
Or with the clamorous report of war
Thus will I drown your exclamations.

DUCHESS OF YORK
Art thou my son?

KING RICHARD III
Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself.

DUCHESS OF YORK
Then patiently hear my impatience.

KING RICHARD III
Madam, I have a touch of your condition,
Which cannot brook the accent of reproof.

DUCHESS OF YORK
O, let me speak!

KING RICHARD III
Do then: but I'll not hear.

DUCHESS OF YORK
I will be mild and gentle in my speech.

KING RICHARD III
And brief, good mother; for I am in haste.

DUCHESS OF YORK
Art thou so hasty? I have stay'd for thee,
God knows, in anguish, pain and agony.

KING RICHARD III
And came I not at last to comfort you?

DUCHESS OF YORK
No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well,
Thou camest on earth to make the earth my hell.
A grievous burthen was thy birth to me;
Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;
Thy school-days frightful, desperate, wild, and furious,
Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous,
Thy age confirm'd, proud, subdued, bloody,
treacherous,
More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred:
What comfortable hour canst thou name,
That ever graced me in thy company?

KING RICHARD III
Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that call'd
your grace
To breakfast once forth of my company.
If I be so disgracious in your sight,
Let me march on, and not offend your grace.
Strike the drum.

DUCHESS OF YORK
I prithee, hear me speak.

KING RICHARD III
You speak too bitterly.

DUCHESS OF YORK
Hear me a word;
For I shall never speak to thee again.

KING RICHARD III
So.

DUCHESS OF YORK
Either thou wilt die, by God's just ordinance,
Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror,
Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish
And never look upon thy face again.
Therefore take with thee my most heavy curse;
Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more
Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st!
My prayers on the adverse party fight;
And there the little souls of Edward's children
Whisper the spirits of thine enemies
And promise them success and victory.
Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end;
Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend.

Exit

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse
Abides in me; I say amen to all.

KING RICHARD III
Stay, madam; I must speak a word with you.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
I have no more sons of the royal blood
For thee to murder: for my daughters, Richard,
They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens;
And therefore level not to hit their lives.

KING RICHARD III
You have a daughter call'd Elizabeth,
Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
And must she die for this? O, let her live,
And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty;
Slander myself as false to Edward's bed;
Throw over her the veil of infamy:
So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter,
I will confess she was not Edward's daughter.

KING RICHARD III
Wrong not her birth, she is of royal blood.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
To save her life, I'll say she is not so.

KING RICHARD III
Her life is only safest in her birth.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
And only in that safety died her brothers.

KING RICHARD III
Lo, at their births good stars were opposite.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
No, to their lives bad friends were contrary.

KING RICHARD III
All unavoided is the doom of destiny.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
True, when avoided grace makes destiny:
My babes were destined to a fairer death,
If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life.

KING RICHARD III
You speak as if that I had slain my cousins.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle cozen'd
Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.
Whose hand soever lanced their tender hearts,
Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction:
No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt
Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart,
To revel in the entrails of my lambs.
But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame,
My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys
Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes;
And I, in such a desperate bay of death,
Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft,
Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom.

KING RICHARD III
Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise
And dangerous success of bloody wars,
As I intend more good to you and yours,
Than ever you or yours were by me wrong'd!

QUEEN ELIZABETH
What good is cover'd with the face of heaven,
To be discover'd, that can do me good?

KING RICHARD III
The advancement of your children, gentle lady.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads?

KING RICHARD III
No, to the dignity and height of honour
The high imperial type of this earth's glory.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Flatter my sorrows with report of it;
Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour,
Canst thou demise to any child of mine?

KING RICHARD III
Even all I have; yea, and myself and all,
Will I withal endow a child of thine;
So in the Lethe of thy angry soul
Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs
Which thou supposest I have done to thee.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Be brief, lest that be process of thy kindness
Last longer telling than thy kindness' date.

KING RICHARD III
Then know, that from my soul I love thy daughter.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul.

KING RICHARD III
What do you think?

QUEEN ELIZABETH
That thou dost love my daughter from thy soul:
So from thy soul's love didst thou love her brothers;
And from my heart's love I do thank thee for it.

KING RICHARD III
Be not so hasty to confound my meaning:
I mean, that with my soul I love thy daughter,
And mean to make her queen of England.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Say then, who dost thou mean shall be her king?

KING RICHARD III
Even he that makes her queen who should be else?

QUEEN ELIZABETH
What, thou?

KING RICHARD III
I, even I: what think you of it, madam?

QUEEN ELIZABETH
How canst thou woo her?

KING RICHARD III
That would I learn of you,
As one that are best acquainted with her humour.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
And wilt thou learn of me?

KING RICHARD III
Madam, with all my heart.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Send to her, by the man that slew her brothers,
A pair of bleeding-hearts; thereon engrave
Edward and York; then haply she will weep:
Therefore present to her--as sometime Margaret
Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood,--
A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain
The purple sap from her sweet brother's body
And bid her dry her weeping eyes therewith.
If this inducement force her not to love,
Send her a story of thy noble acts;
Tell her thou madest away her uncle Clarence,
Her uncle Rivers; yea, and, for her sake,
Madest quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne.

KING RICHARD III
Come, come, you mock me; this is not the way
To win our daughter.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
There is no other way
Unless thou couldst put on some other shape,
And not be Richard that hath done all this.

KING RICHARD III
Say that I did all this for love of her.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Nay, then indeed she cannot choose but hate thee,
Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.

KING RICHARD III
Look, what is done cannot be now amended:
Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,
Which after hours give leisure to repent.
If I did take the kingdom from your sons,
To make amends, Ill give it to your daughter.
If I have kill'd the issue of your womb,
To quicken your increase, I will beget
Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter
A grandam's name is little less in love
Than is the doting title of a mother;
They are as children but one step below,
Even of your mettle, of your very blood;
Of an one pain, save for a night of groans
Endured of her, for whom you bid like sorrow.
Your children were vexation to your youth,
But mine shall be a comfort to your age.
The loss you have is but a son being king,
And by that loss your daughter is made queen.
I cannot make you what amends I would,
Therefore accept such kindness as I can.
Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul
Leads discontented steps in foreign soil,
This fair alliance quickly shall call home
To high promotions and great dignity:
The king, that calls your beauteous daughter wife.
Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother;
Again shall you be mother to a king,
And all the ruins of distressful times
Repair'd with double riches of content.
What! we have many goodly days to see:
The liquid drops of tears that you have shed
Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl,
Advantaging their loan with interest
Of ten times double gain of happiness.
Go, then my mother, to thy daughter go
Make bold her bashful years with your experience;
Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale
Put in her tender heart the aspiring flame
Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the princess
With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys
And when this arm of mine hath chastised
The petty rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham,
Bound with triumphant garlands will I come
And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed;
To whom I will retail my conquest won,
And she shall be sole victress, Caesar's Caesar.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
What were I best to say? her father's brother
Would be her lord? or shall I say, her uncle?
Or, he that slew her brothers and her uncles?
Under what title shall I woo for thee,
That God, the law, my honour and her love,
Can make seem pleasing to her tender years?

KING RICHARD III
Infer fair England's peace by this alliance.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Which she shall purchase with still lasting war.

KING RICHARD III
Say that the king, which may command, entreats.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
That at her hands which the king's King forbids.

KING RICHARD III
Say, she shall be a high and mighty queen.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
To wail the tide, as her mother doth.

KING RICHARD III
Say, I will love her everlastingly.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
But how long shall that title 'ever' last?

KING RICHARD III
Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
But how long fairly shall her sweet lie last?

KING RICHARD III
So long as heaven and nature lengthens it.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
So long as hell and Richard likes of it.

KING RICHARD III
Say, I, her sovereign, am her subject love.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
But she, your subject, loathes such sovereignty.

KING RICHARD III
Be eloquent in my behalf to her.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.

KING RICHARD III
Then in plain terms tell her my loving tale.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Plain and not honest is too harsh a style.

KING RICHARD III
Your reasons are too shallow and too quick.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
O no, my reasons are too deep and dead;
Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their grave.

KING RICHARD III
Harp not on that string, madam; that is past.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Harp on it still shall I till heart-strings break.

KING RICHARD III
Now, by my George, my garter, and my crown,--

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Profaned, dishonour'd, and the third usurp'd.

KING RICHARD III
I swear--

QUEEN ELIZABETH
By nothing; for this is no oath:
The George, profaned, hath lost his holy honour;
The garter, blemish'd, pawn'd his knightly virtue;
The crown, usurp'd, disgraced his kingly glory.
if something thou wilt swear to be believed,
Swear then by something that thou hast not wrong'd.

KING RICHARD III
Now, by the world--

QUEEN ELIZABETH
'Tis full of thy foul wrongs.

KING RICHARD III
My father's death--

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Thy life hath that dishonour'd.

KING RICHARD III
Then, by myself--

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Thyself thyself misusest.

KING RICHARD III
Why then, by God--

QUEEN ELIZABETH
God's wrong is most of all.
If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by Him,
The unity the king thy brother made
Had not been broken, nor my brother slain:
If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by Him,
The imperial metal, circling now thy brow,
Had graced the tender temples of my child,
And both the princes had been breathing here,
Which now, two tender playfellows to dust,
Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms.
What canst thou swear by now?

KING RICHARD III
The time to come.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
That thou hast wronged in the time o'erpast;
For I myself have many tears to wash
Hereafter time, for time past wrong'd by thee.
The children live, whose parents thou hast
slaughter'd,
Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age;
The parents live, whose children thou hast butcher'd,
Old wither'd plants, to wail it with their age.
Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast
Misused ere used, by time misused o'erpast.

KING RICHARD III
As I intend to prosper and repent,
So thrive I in my dangerous attempt
Of hostile arms! myself myself confound!
Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours!
Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy rest!
Be opposite all planets of good luck
To my proceedings, if, with pure heart's love,
Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,
I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter!
In her consists my happiness and thine;
Without her, follows to this land and me,
To thee, herself, and many a Christian soul,
Death, desolation, ruin and decay:
It cannot be avoided but by this;
It will not be avoided but by this.
Therefore, good mother,--I must can you so--
Be the attorney of my love to her:
Plead what I will be, not what I have been;
Not my deserts, but what I will deserve:
Urge the necessity and state of times,
And be not peevish-fond in great designs.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Shall I be tempted of the devil thus?

KING RICHARD III
Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do good.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Shall I forget myself to be myself?

KING RICHARD III
Ay, if yourself's remembrance wrong yourself.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
But thou didst kill my children.

KING RICHARD III
But in your daughter's womb I bury them:
Where in that nest of spicery they shall breed
Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?

KING RICHARD III
And be a happy mother by the deed.

QUEEN ELIZABETH
I go. Write to me very shortly.
And you shall understand from me her mind.

KING RICHARD III
Bear her my true love's kiss; and so, farewell.

Exit QUEEN ELIZABETH

Relenting fool, and shallow, changing woman!

Enter RATCLIFF; CATESBY following

How now! what news?

RATCLIFF
My gracious sovereign, on the western coast
Rideth a puissant navy; to the shore
Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends,
Unarm'd, 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.

KING RICHARD III
Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Norfolk:
Ratcliff, thyself, or Catesby; where is he?

CATESBY
Here, my lord.

KING RICHARD III
Fly to the duke:

To RATCLIFF

Post thou to Salisbury
When thou comest thither--

To CATESBY

Dull, unmindful villain,
Why stand'st thou still, and go'st not to the duke?

CATESBY
First, mighty sovereign, let me know your mind,
What from your grace I shall deliver to him.

KING RICHARD III
O, true, good Catesby: bid him levy straight
The greatest strength and power he can make,
And meet me presently at Salisbury.

CATESBY
I go.

Exit

RATCLIFF
What is't your highness' pleasure I shall do at
Salisbury?

KING RICHARD III
Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go?

RATCLIFF
Your highness told me I should post before.

KING RICHARD III
My mind is changed, sir, my mind is changed.

Enter STANLEY

How now, what news with you?

STANLEY
None good, my lord, to please you with the hearing;
Nor none so bad, but it may well be told.

KING RICHARD III
Hoyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad!
Why dost thou run so many mile about,
When thou mayst tell thy tale a nearer way?
Once more, what news?

STANLEY
Richmond is on the seas.

KING RICHARD III
There let him sink, and be the seas on him!
White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there?

STANLEY
I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.

KING RICHARD III
Well, sir, as you guess, as you guess?

STANLEY
Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Ely,
He makes for England, there to claim the crown.

KING RICHARD III
Is the chair empty? is the sword unsway'd?
Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd?
What heir of York is there alive but we?
And who is England's king but great York's heir?
Then, tell me, what doth he upon the sea?

STANLEY
Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.

KING RICHARD III
Unless for that he comes to be your liege,
You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes.
Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear.

STANLEY
No, mighty liege; therefore mistrust me not.

KING RICHARD III
Where is thy power, then, to beat him back?
Where are thy tenants and thy followers?
Are they not now upon the western shore.
Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships!

STANLEY
No, my good lord, my friends are in the north.

KING RICHARD III
Cold friends to Richard: what do they in the north,
When they should serve their sovereign in the west?

STANLEY
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.

KING RICHARD III
Ay, ay. thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond:
I will not trust you, sir.

STANLEY
Most mighty sovereign,
You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful:
I never was nor never will be false.

KING RICHARD III
Well,
Go muster men; but, hear you, leave behind
Your son, George Stanley: look your faith be firm.
Or else his head's assurance is but frail.

STANLEY
So deal with him as I prove true to you.

Exit

Enter a Messenger

Messenger
My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,
As I by friends am well advertised,
Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate
Bishop of Exeter, his brother there,
With many more confederates, are in arms.

Enter another Messenger

Second Messenger
My liege, in Kent the Guildfords are in arms;
And every hour more competitors
Flock to their aid, and still their power increaseth.

Enter another Messenger

Third Messenger
My lord, the army of the Duke of Buckingham--

KING RICHARD III
Out on you, owls! nothing but songs of death?

He striketh him

Take that, until thou bring me better news.

Third Messenger
The news I have to tell your majesty
Is, that by sudden floods and fall of waters,
Buckingham's army is dispersed and scatter'd;
And he himself wander'd away alone,
No man knows whither.

KING RICHARD III
I cry thee mercy:
There is my purse to cure that blow of thine.
Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd
Reward to him that brings the traitor in?

Third Messenger
Such proclamation hath been made, my liege.

Enter another Messenger

Fourth Messenger
Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis Dorset,
'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms.
Yet this good comfort bring I to your grace,
The Breton navy is dispersed by tempest:
Richmond, in Yorkshire, sent out a boat
Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks
If they were his assistants, yea or no;
Who answer'd him, they came from Buckingham.
Upon his party: he, mistrusting them,
Hoisted sail and made away for Brittany.

KING RICHARD III
March on, march on, since we are up in arms;
If not to fight with foreign enemies,
Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.

Re-enter CATESBY

CATESBY
My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken;
That is the best news: that the Earl of Richmond
Is with a mighty power landed at Milford,
Is colder tidings, yet they must be told.

KING RICHARD III
Away towards Salisbury! while we reason here,
A royal battle might be won and lost
Some one take order Buckingham be brought
To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.

Flourish. Exeunt

SCENE V. Lord Derby's house.

Enter DERBY and SIR CHRISTOPHER URSWICK
DERBY
Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me:
That in the sty of this most bloody boar
My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold:
If I revolt, off goes young George's head;
The fear of that withholds my present aid.
But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now?

CHRISTOPHER
At Pembroke, or at Harford-west, in Wales.

DERBY
What men of name resort to him?

CHRISTOPHER
Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier;
Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley;
Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,
And Rice ap Thomas with a valiant crew;
And many more of noble fame and worth:
And towards London they do bend their course,
If by the way they be not fought withal.

DERBY
Return unto thy lord; commend me to him:
Tell him the queen hath heartily consented
He shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter.
These letters will resolve him of my mind. Farewell.

Exeunt

ACT V
SCENE I. Salisbury. An open place.

Enter the Sheriff, and BUCKINGHAM, with halberds, led to execution
BUCKINGHAM
Will not King Richard let me speak with him?

Sheriff
No, my good lord; therefore be patient.

BUCKINGHAM
Hastings, and Edward's children, Rivers, Grey,
Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
Vaughan, and all that have miscarried
By underhand corrupted foul injustice,
If that your moody discontented souls
Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
Even for revenge mock my destruction!
This is All-Souls' day, fellows, is it not?

Sheriff
It is, my lord.

BUCKINGHAM
Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's doomsday.
This is the day that, in King Edward's time,
I wish't might fall on me, when I was found
False to his children or his wife's allies
This is the day wherein I wish'd to fall
By the false faith of him I trusted most;
This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul
Is the determined respite of my wrongs:
That high All-Seer that I dallied with
Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head
And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest.
Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men
To turn their own points on their masters' bosoms:
Now Margaret's curse is fallen upon my head;
'When he,' quoth she, 'shall split thy heart with sorrow,
Remember Margaret was a prophetess.'
Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame;
Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.

Exeunt

SCENE II. The camp near Tamworth.

Enter RICHMOND, OXFORD, BLUNT, HERBERT, and others, with drum and colours
RICHMOND
Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends,
Bruised underneath the yoke of tyranny,
Thus far into the bowels of the land
Have we march'd on without impediment;
And here receive we from our father Stanley
Lines of fair comfort and encouragement.
The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar,
That spoil'd your summer fields and fruitful vines,
Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough
In your embowell'd bosoms, this foul swine
Lies now even in the centre of this isle,
Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn
From Tamworth thither is but one day's march.
In God's name, cheerly on, courageous friends,
To reap the harvest of perpetual peace
By this one bloody trial of sharp war.

OXFORD
Every man's conscience is a thousand swords,
To fight against that bloody homicide.

HERBERT
I doubt not but his friends will fly to us.

BLUNT
He hath no friends but who are friends for fear.
Which in his greatest need will shrink from him.

RICHMOND
All for our vantage. Then, in God's name, march:
True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings:
Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.

Exeunt

SCENE III. Bosworth Field.

Enter KING RICHARD III in arms, with NORFOLK, SURREY, and others
KING RICHARD III
Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth field.
My Lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?

SURREY
My heart is ten times lighter than my looks.

KING RICHARD III
My Lord of Norfolk,--

NORFOLK
Here, most gracious liege.

KING RICHARD III
Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha! must we not?

NORFOLK
We must both give and take, my gracious lord.

KING RICHARD III
Up with my tent there! here will I lie tonight;
But where to-morrow? Well, all's one for that.
Who hath descried the number of the foe?

NORFOLK
Six or seven thousand is their utmost power.

KING RICHARD III
Why, our battalion trebles that account:
Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength,
Which they upon the adverse party want.
Up with my tent there! Valiant gentlemen,
Let us survey the vantage of the field
Call for some men of sound direction
Let's want no discipline, make no delay,
For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day.

Exeunt

Enter, on the other side of the field, RICHMOND, Sir William Brandon, OXFORD, and others. Some of the Soldiers pitch RICHMOND's tent

RICHMOND
The weary sun hath made a golden set,
And by the bright track of his fiery car,
Gives signal, of a goodly day to-morrow.
Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard.
Give me some ink and paper in my tent
I'll draw the form and model of our battle,
Limit each leader to his several charge,
And part in just proportion our small strength.
My Lord of Oxford, you, Sir William Brandon,
And you, Sir Walter Herbert, stay with me.
The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment:
Good Captain Blunt, bear my good night to him
And by the second hour in the morning
Desire the earl to see me in my tent:
Yet one thing more, good Blunt, before thou go'st,
Where is Lord Stanley quarter'd, dost thou know?

BLUNT
Unless I have mista'en his colours much,
Which well I am assured I have not done,
His regiment lies half a mile at least
South from the mighty power of the king.

RICHMOND
If without peril it be possible,
Good Captain Blunt, bear my good-night to him,
And give him from me this most needful scroll.

BLUNT
Upon my life, my lord, I'll under-take it;
And so, God give you quiet rest to-night!

RICHMOND
Good night, good Captain Blunt. Come gentlemen,
Let us consult upon to-morrow's business
In to our tent; the air is raw and cold.

They withdraw into the tent

Enter, to his tent, KING RICHARD III, NORFOLK, RATCLIFF, CATESBY, and others

KING RICHARD III
What is't o'clock?

CATESBY
It's supper-time, my lord;
It's nine o'clock.

KING RICHARD III
I will not sup to-night.
Give me some ink and paper.
What, is my beaver easier than it was?
And all my armour laid into my tent?

CATESBY
If is, my liege; and all things are in readiness.

KING RICHARD III
Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge;
Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels.

NORFOLK
I go, my lord.

KING RICHARD III
Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk.

NORFOLK
I warrant you, my lord.

Exit

KING RICHARD III
Catesby!

CATESBY
My lord?

KING RICHARD III
Send out a pursuivant at arms
To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power
Before sunrising, lest his son George fall
Into the blind cave of eternal night.

Exit CATESBY

Fill me a bowl of wine. Give me a watch.
Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.
Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy.
Ratcliff!

RATCLIFF
My lord?

KING RICHARD III
Saw'st thou the melancholy Lord Northumberland?

RATCLIFF
Thomas the Earl of Surrey, and himself,
Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop
Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers.

KING RICHARD III
So, I am 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. Is ink and paper ready?

RATCLIFF
It is, my lord.

KING RICHARD III
Bid my guard watch; leave me.
Ratcliff, about the mid of night come to my tent
And help to arm me. Leave me, I say.

Exeunt RATCLIFF and the other Attendants

Enter DERBY to RICHMOND in his tent, Lords and others attending

DERBY
Fortune and victory sit on thy helm!

RICHMOND
All comfort that the dark night can afford
Be to thy person, noble father-in-law!
Tell me, how fares our loving mother?

DERBY
I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother
Who prays continually for Richmond's good:
So much for that. The silent hours steal on,
And flaky darkness breaks within the east.
In brief,--for so the season bids us be,--
Prepare thy battle early in the morning,
And put thy fortune to the arbitrement
Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war.
I, as I may--that which I would I cannot,--
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
And ample interchange of sweet discourse,
Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell upon:
God give us leisure for these rites of love!
Once more, adieu: be valiant, and speed well!

RICHMOND
Good lords, conduct him to his regiment:
I'll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap,
Lest leaden slumber peise me down to-morrow,
When I should mount with wings of victory:
Once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen.

Exeunt all but RICHMOND

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 they may crush down with a heavy fall
The usurping helmets of our adversaries!
Make us thy ministers of chastisement,
That we may praise thee in the victory!
To thee I do commend my watchful soul,
Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes:
Sleeping and waking, O, defend me still!

Sleeps

Enter the Ghost of Prince Edward, son to King Henry VI

Ghost

of Prince Edward
[To KING RICHARD III]
Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow!
Think, how thou stab'dst me in my prime of youth
At Tewksbury: despair, therefore, and die!

To RICHMOND

Be cheerful, Richmond; for the wronged souls
Of butcher'd princes fight in thy behalf
King Henry's issue, Richmond, comforts thee.

Enter the Ghost of King Henry VI

Ghost

of King Henry VI
[To KING RICHARD III]
When I was mortal, my anointed body
By thee was punched full of deadly holes
Think on the Tower and me: despair, and die!
Harry the Sixth bids thee despair, and die!

To RICHMOND

Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror!
Harry, that prophesied thou shouldst be king,
Doth comfort thee in thy sleep: live, and flourish!

Enter the Ghost of CLARENCE

Ghost of CLARENCE
[To KING RICHARD III]
Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow!
I, that was wash'd to death with fulsome wine,
Poor Clarence, by thy guile betrayed to death!
To-morrow in the battle think on me,
And fall thy edgeless sword: despair, and die!--

To RICHMOND

Thou offspring of the house of Lancaster
The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee
Good angels guard thy battle! live, and flourish!

Enter the Ghosts of RIVERS, GRAY, and VAUGHAN

Ghost of RIVERS
[To KING RICHARD III]
Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow,
Rivers. that died at Pomfret! despair, and die!

Ghost of GREY
[To KING RICHARD III]
Think upon Grey, and let thy soul despair!

Ghost of VAUGHAN
[To KING RICHARD III]
Think upon Vaughan, and, with guilty fear,
Let fall thy lance: despair, and die!

All
[To RICHMOND]
Awake, and think our wrongs in Richard's bosom
Will conquer him! awake, and win the day!

Enter the Ghost of HASTINGS

Ghost of HASTINGS
[To KING RICHARD III]
Bloody and guilty, guiltily awake,
And in a bloody battle end thy days!
Think on Lord Hastings: despair, and die!

To RICHMOND

Quiet untroubled soul, awake, awake!
Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake!

Enter the Ghosts of the two young Princes

Ghosts

of young Princes
[To KING RICHARD III]
Dream on thy cousins smother'd in the Tower:
Let us be led within thy bosom, Richard,
And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death!
Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair and die!

To RICHMOND

Sleep, Richmond, sleep in peace, and wake in joy;
Good angels guard thee from the boar's annoy!
Live, and beget a happy race of kings!
Edward's unhappy sons do bid thee flourish.

Enter the Ghost of LADY ANNE

Ghost of LADY ANNE
[To KING RICHARD III]
Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne thy wife,
That never slept a quiet hour with thee,
Now fills thy sleep with perturbations
To-morrow in the battle think on me,
And fall thy edgeless sword: despair, and die!

To RICHMOND

Thou quiet soul, sleep thou a quiet sleep
Dream of success and happy victory!
Thy adversary's wife doth pray for thee.

Enter the Ghost of BUCKINGHAM

Ghost

of BUCKINGHAM
[To KING RICHARD III]
The last was I that helped thee to the crown;
The last was I that felt thy tyranny:
O, in the battle think on Buckingham,
And die in terror of thy guiltiness!
Dream on, dream on, of bloody deeds and death:
Fainting, despair; despairing, yield thy breath!

To RICHMOND

I died for hope ere I could lend thee aid:
But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismay'd:
God and good angel fight on Richmond's side;
And Richard falls in height of all his pride.

The Ghosts vanish

KING RICHARD III starts out of his dream

KING RICHARD III
Give me another horse: bind up my wounds.
Have mercy, Jesu!--Soft! I did but dream.
O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!
The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight.
Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.
What do I fear? myself? there's none else by:
Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I.
Is there a murderer here? No. Yes, I am:
Then fly. What, from myself? Great reason why:
Lest I revenge. What, myself upon myself?
Alack. I love myself. Wherefore? for any good
That I myself have done unto myself?
O, no! alas, I rather hate myself
For hateful deeds committed by myself!
I am a villain: yet I lie. I am not.
Fool, of thyself speak well: fool, do not flatter.
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain.
Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree
Murder, stem murder, in the direst degree;
All several sins, all used in each degree,
Throng to the bar, crying all, Guilty! guilty!
I shall despair. There is no creature loves me;
And if I die, no soul shall pity me:
Nay, wherefore should they, since that I myself
Find in myself no pity to myself?
Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd
Came to my tent; and every one did threat
To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.

Enter RATCLIFF

RATCLIFF
My lord!

KING RICHARD III
'Zounds! who is there?

RATCLIFF
Ratcliff, my lord; 'tis I. The early village-cock
Hath twice done salutation to the morn;
Your friends are up, and buckle on their armour.

KING RICHARD III
O Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fearful dream!
What thinkest thou, will our friends prove all true?

RATCLIFF
No doubt, my lord.

KING RICHARD III
O Ratcliff, I fear, I fear,--

RATCLIFF
Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows.

KING RICHARD III
By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard
Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers
Armed in proof, and led by shallow Richmond.
It is not yet near day. Come, go with me;
Under our tents I'll play the eaves-dropper,
To see if any mean to shrink from me.

Exeunt

Enter the Lords to RICHMOND, sitting in his tent

LORDS
Good morrow, Richmond!

RICHMOND
Cry mercy, lords and watchful gentlemen,
That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here.

LORDS
How have you slept, my lord?

RICHMOND
The sweetest sleep, and fairest-boding dreams
That ever enter'd in a drowsy head,
Have I since your departure had, my lords.
Methought their souls, whose bodies Richard murder'd,
Came to my tent, and cried on victory:
I promise you, my soul is very jocund
In the remembrance of so fair a dream.
How far into the morning is it, lords?

LORDS
Upon the stroke of four.

RICHMOND
Why, then 'tis time to arm and give direction.

His oration to his soldiers

More than I have said, loving countrymen,
The leisure and enforcement of the time
Forbids to dwell upon: yet remember this,
God and our good cause fight upon our side;
The prayers of holy saints and wronged souls,
Like high-rear'd bulwarks, stand before our faces;
Richard except, those whom we fight against
Had rather have us win than him they follow:
For what is he they follow? truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyrant and a homicide;
One raised in blood, and one in blood establish'd;
One that made means to come by what he hath,
And slaughter'd those that were the means to help him;
Abase foul stone, made precious by the foil
Of England's chair, where he is falsely set;
One that hath ever been God's enemy:
Then, if you fight against God's enemy,
God will in justice ward you as his soldiers;
If you do sweat to put a tyrant down,
You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain;
If you do fight against your country's foes,
Your country's fat shall pay your pains the hire;
If you do fight in safeguard of your wives,
Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors;
If you do free your children from the sword,
Your children's children quit it in your age.
Then, in the name of God and all these rights,
Advance your standards, draw your willing swords.
For me, the ransom of my bold attempt
Shall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face;
But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt
The least of you shall share his part thereof.
Sound drums and trumpets boldly and cheerfully;
God and Saint George! Richmond and victory!

Exeunt

Re-enter KING RICHARD, RATCLIFF, Attendants and Forces

KING RICHARD III
What said Northumberland as touching Richmond?

RATCLIFF
That he was never trained up in arms.

KING RICHARD III
He said the truth: and what said Surrey then?

RATCLIFF
He smiled and said 'The better for our purpose.'

KING RICHARD III
He was in the right; and so indeed it is.

Clock striketh

Ten the clock there. Give me a calendar.
Who saw the sun to-day?

RATCLIFF
Not I, my lord.

KING RICHARD III
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. Ratcliff!

RATCLIFF
My lord?

KING RICHARD III
The sun will not be seen to-day;
The sky doth frown and lour upon our army.
I would these dewy tears were from the ground.
Not shine to-day! Why, what is that to me
More than to Richmond? for the selfsame heaven
That frowns on me looks sadly upon him.

Enter NORFOLK

NORFOLK
Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the field.

KING RICHARD III
Come, bustle, bustle; caparison my horse.
Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power:
I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain,
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, Thomas Earl of Surrey,
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?

NORFOLK
A good direction, warlike sovereign.
This found I on my tent this morning.

He sheweth him a paper

KING RICHARD III
[Reads]
'Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold,
For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.'
A thing devised by the enemy.
Go, gentleman, every man unto his charge
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls:
Conscience is but a word that cowards use,
Devised at first to keep the strong in awe:
Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law.
March on, join bravely, let us to't pell-mell
If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.

His oration to his Army

What shall I say more than I have inferr'd?
Remember whom you are to cope withal;
A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways,
A scum of Bretons, and base lackey peasants,
Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth
To desperate ventures and assured destruction.
You sleeping safe, they bring to you unrest;
You having lands, and blest with beauteous wives,
They would restrain the one, distain the other.
And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow,
Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost?
A milk-sop, one that never in his life
Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow?
Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again;
Lash hence these overweening rags of France,
These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives;
Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit,
For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves:
If we be conquer'd, let men conquer us,
And not these bastard Bretons; whom our fathers
Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd,
And in record, left them the heirs of shame.
Shall these enjoy our lands? lie with our wives?
Ravish our daughters?

Drum afar off

Hark! I hear their drum.
Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yoemen!
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood;
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!

Enter a Messenger

What says Lord Stanley? will he bring his power?

Messenger
My lord, he doth deny to come.

KING RICHARD III
Off with his son George's head!

NORFOLK
My lord, the enemy is past the marsh
After the battle let George Stanley die.

KING RICHARD III
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 on our helms.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. Another part of the field.

Alarum: excursions. Enter NORFOLK and forces fighting; to him CATESBY
CATESBY
Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue, 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 day is lost!

Alarums. Enter KING RICHARD III

KING RICHARD III
A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!

CATESBY
Withdraw, my lord; I'll help you to a horse.

KING RICHARD III
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 to-day instead of him.
A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!

Exeunt

SCENE V. Another part of the field.

Alarum. Enter KING RICHARD III and RICHMOND; they fight. KING RICHARD III is slain. Retreat and flourish. Re-enter RICHMOND, DERBY bearing the crown, with divers other Lords
RICHMOND
God and your arms be praised, victorious friends,
The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.

DERBY
Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee.
Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty
From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal:
Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.

RICHMOND
Great God of heaven, say Amen to all!
But, tell me, is young George Stanley living?

DERBY
He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town;
Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us.

RICHMOND
What men of name are slain on either side?

DERBY
John Duke of Norfolk, Walter Lord Ferrers,
Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon.

RICHMOND
Inter their bodies as becomes their births:
Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled
That in submission will return to us:
And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament,
We will unite the white rose and the red:
Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction,
That long have frown'd upon their enmity!
What traitor hears me, and says not amen?
England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself;
The brother blindly shed the brother's blood,
The father rashly slaughter'd his own son,
The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire:
All this divided York and Lancaster,
Divided in their dire division,
O, now, let Richmond and Elizabeth,
The true succeeders of each royal house,
By God's fair ordinance conjoin together!
And let their heirs, God, if thy will be so.
Enrich the time to come with smooth-faced peace,
With smiling plenty and fair prosperous days!
Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord,
That would reduce these bloody days again,
And make poor England weep in streams of blood!
Let them not live to taste this land's increase
That would with treason wound this fair land's peace!
Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again:
That she may long live here, God say amen!

Exeunt

Gauntlet?

Tempest?

My God! This blog is becoming fun again.

i can't believe he posted ALL of Richard III

I'm a bigger fan of Henry VIII:

I'm Henery the Eighth, I am!
Henery the Eighth I am! I am!
I got married to the widow next door,
She's been married seven times before.
Every one was an Henery
She wouldn't have a Willie or a Sam (no, ma'am!)
I'm her eighth old man named Henery
Henery the Eighth I am.

(repeat until your head explodes)

i wonder if andy olson writes in iambic pentameter, too.

For some reason, this post calls for a haiku:

Music writer, stop!
You've caused a rash of Shakespeare
and brought out the trolls

goddamn, do i love a good haiku.

(p.s. - neal, i'm seriously gonna have to kick your ass the next time i see you...)

Andrew,
If you're going to go around bashing bands, maybe you should do your homework and find an actual reason to be critical, after all that is your (cough), job. Bands can take criticism, it's part of doing what we do, but when it becomes a personal attack anyone is going to get pissed off. Playing the you started it card after the fact is weak and if you really stand behind what you do, you should know better. It's up to the fan/listener/showgoer or whoever to decide what they like and don't like so advising people flat out to not attend a show is bullshit, no matter how you feel about the band or one of it's members. Maybe there are alot of cliques within the music community, but I think we can all agree on that.

I like what Andrew Olson writes and think he is dead on. His April Fools article was funny, but I think Sarcasm is using all this to build himself up.

When I went to that Mattoafilmscore's blog it was filled with whining and complaining. Does this guy play shows or just blog all day about his various ailments?

We need more people to talk about local bands, but who would want to with bands like this?

And $5 is a lot to pay to get into any bar around town. When people complain about how they don't make enough money it is funny because I thought rock stars didn't care about those things?

I also saw that Andrew Olson is paid in "coupons" for what he writes. He should be on here complaining about money if anyone is. The bands on here said they made $40 from a show, I doubt he makes that much. Yet he still goes out and writes about you. If I were him I would never write about any of your bands in any way, it only gives you publicity to complain and draw attention to yourself.

Keep writing Andrew, there are readers out here who support what you do! Don't listen to a few washed up has-beens. You shouldn't waste your time or the Reader's ink on them.

AND OMG, the myspace.com thing, talk about too much time on your hands.

One more thing, for someone who goes on and on about grammar you need to proof your own stuff here. You say that you write 75% of your magazine yet are not a "journalist". hmmmmmm.?

Then you spell "exposure" - "exposer".

By continuing to beat this horse you make yourself look like more of the fool.

Lovie: who ever said we were rock stars?

Let's get this thing to 100 comments, folks! Why? Why not?

Here's a little help:

1. Man, does the Transistor ever suck!
2. Holy cow, I really loathe Brewhouse beer.
3. I am angry at Barrett Chase being so nonchalant about his talent.
4. I saw this band called Low. Soooo booooring!
5. Sammy's Pizza is way better than Luce'.
6. Uh, I hate oxygen.

*sigh*

I like what Andrew Olson writes and think he is dead on.

first sign you're an idiot.

His April Fools article was funny, but I think Sarcasm is using all this to build himself up.

second sign you're an idiot. yeah, i wait for "journalists" to call me fat... then i pounce... that's my chance to grab the spotlight!

When I went to that Mattoafilmscore's blog it was filled with whining and complaining. Does this guy play shows or just blog all day about his various ailments?

yeah... how dare i use my personal fucking journal to talk about personal shit going on in my life... and whining and bitching about how i had surgery in november and almost fucking died?!? oh my god! what's my fucking problem?!? or the shoulder problems that could end my drumming career... what a fucking crybaby i am!!!! someone get me a bottle.

And $5 is a lot to pay to get into any bar around town. When people complain about how they don't make enough money it is funny because I thought rock stars didn't care about those things?

idiot. idiot. idiot. i'm starting to think olson's just writing under another name. you're cheap and don't give a shit about local music. that's cool. stay at home... or go to the Runway. there's tons of cover bands playing there... for free!!! and rock stars? really? who the fuck said anyone of us considered ourselves rock stars?

I also saw that Andrew Olson is paid in "coupons" for what he writes. He should be on here complaining about money if anyone is. The bands on here said they made $40 from a show, I doubt he makes that much

yeah... andy, who sits in front of a computer, spends two minutes typing an article he can't even proofread and submits via e-mail totally has more of a right to complain then those asshole rock star musicians who invest thousands in gear, merchandise... spend hours and hours every week practicing and writing songs... booking shows and tours... yeah fuck those assholes... and how dare they say anything about the $40 they have to split between 4 people.

you. If I were him I would never write about any of your bands in any way, it only gives you publicity to complain and draw attention to yourself.

YES! YES! i want him to stop writing about me! i even came to an agreement with his old "editor" to stop calling him on his shit as long as he left my bands alone!!! problem is andy couldn't do it. after nearly a year of not saying a word about him, he starts taking stabs at me in his fucking columns again... for no reason nonetheless!

that dude does more harm than good writing about bands. if i read his article on the little black books and didn't know better, i'd stay the fuck away from them. the way he describes them makes them out to be fucking terrible... based on his description alone, i'd avoid them like the plague.

Keep writing Andrew, there are readers out here who support what you do! Don't listen to a few washed up has-beens.

wow. can't say it's every day someone says that...

AND OMG, the myspace.com thing, talk about too much time on your hands.

OMG! LOL! sorry. don't have the time to run yet another myspace page. as much as i'd love to take credit for it, i can't. not to mention, i absolutely despise capitalizing sentences.

One more thing, for someone who goes on and on about grammar you need to proof your own stuff here. You say that you write 75% of your magazine yet are not a "journalist". hmmmmmm.?

Then you spell "exposure" - "exposer".

way to catch one fucking spelling error out nearly 30 posts. you totally busted me there.

By continuing to beat this horse you make yourself look like more of the fool.

...compared to your post, which makes you look like a goddamn genius, right?

(p.s.)
before you go busting peoples' chops for grammar and spelling errors, you might wanna take a course in sentence fragments, asshole. and maybe try to remember that "rock star" is not one word.

since you brought it up...

brewhouse beer really gives me a headache.

"5. Sammy's Pizza is way better than Luce'."

I will agree with you on that one actually. The food at Luce is really overrated.

"brewhouse beer really gives me a headache."

That's because you drink too much of it.

i think you're right, eric...

I didn't want to answer but I will since you make it so easy.

I read your blog and you did write about Andrew Olson several times. You have one from a few months ago before he wrote you State Champs thing where you take a shot. Then there is shot after shot.

You need to stop copying and pasting blog posts to Word and spell checking them. Try to be more creative then saying "rock star" is 2 words. Your arguments are as lame as your posts here. And oh is “blog” wrong because spell check misses it?

Whining, whining, and whining. You are making a career out of whining about a writer for a small publication that not many people even read.

And this garbage,"OMG! LOL! sorry. don't have the time to run yet another myspace page. as much as i'd love to take credit for it, i can't. not to mention, i absolutely despise capitalizing sentences.

One more thing, for someone who goes on and on about grammar you need to proof your own stuff here. You say that you write 75% of your magazine yet are not a "journalist". hmmmmmm.?

Then you spell "exposure" - "exposer".

way to catch one fucking spelling error out nearly 30 fucking posts. you totally busted me there."

So let me get this clear, capitulation is not a part of grammar? And what about the journalist question. You never got to the point about you claiming not to be a journalist when you write 75% of a magazine you publish. Then you misspell, don't capitalize, and just plain make up words at times. Too bad I can never find one of your mags at Luce'. That probably is filled with grammar errors, or as you call them "things I don't like to do like capitalize."

You are lame and spell-check your blogs. Your journalistic skills suck, and now that you can't play drums because of another ailment what will you do with your life?

Maybe you could make a name for yourself riding the coattails of a local writer?

And is this even a sentence? "the way he describes the, besides being waaaaaaaaaaaaay off base, makes them sound fucking terrible."

I just cannot sit here and have you bash a writer when you can't write AT ALL. I would just have quit way up top, but you really keep putting your foot in your mouth.

Then you end with "brewhouse beer really gives me a headache."

Are you on planet earth Sarcasm? Please write in English or sober up before you post.

I am not a writer, but you cannot bash me until you write at a 1st grade level. Since italics are not an option on PDD, how much time are you putting in here? Obviously too much.

I didn't want to answer but I will since you make it so easy.

I read your blog and you did write about Andrew Olson several times. You have one from a few months ago before he wrote you State Champs thing where you take a shot. Then there is shot after shot.

You need to stop copying and pasting blog posts to Word and spell checking them. Try to be more creative then saying "rock star" is 2 words. Your arguments are as lame as your posts here. And oh is “blog” wrong because spell check misses it?

Whining, whining, and whining. You are making a career out of whining about a writer for a small publication that not many people even read.

And this garbage,"OMG! LOL! sorry. don't have the time to run yet another myspace page. as much as i'd love to take credit for it, i can't. not to mention, i absolutely despise capitalizing sentences.

One more thing, for someone who goes on and on about grammar you need to proof your own stuff here. You say that you write 75% of your magazine yet are not a "journalist". hmmmmmm.?

Then you spell "exposure" - "exposer".

way to catch one fucking spelling error out nearly 30 fucking posts. you totally busted me there."

So let me get this clear, capitulation is not a part of grammar? And what about the journalist question. You never got to the point about you claiming not to be a journalist when you write 75% of a magazine you publish. Then you misspell, don't capitalize, and just plain make up words at times. Too bad I can never find one of your mags at Luce'. That probably is filled with grammar errors, or as you call them "things I don't like to do like capitalize."

You are lame and spell-check your blogs. Your journalistic skills suck, and now that you can't play drums because of another ailment what will you do with your life?

Maybe you could make a name for yourself riding the coattails of a local writer?

And is this even a sentence? "the way he describes the, besides being waaaaaaaaaaaaay off base, makes them sound fucking terrible."

I just cannot sit here and have you bash a writer when you can't write AT ALL. I would just have quit way up top, but you really keep putting your foot in your mouth.

Then you end with "brewhouse beer really gives me a headache."

Are you on planet earth Sarcasm? Please write in English or sober up before you post.

I am not a writer, but you cannot bash me or anyone else for that matter until you write at a 1st grade level. Since italics are not an option on PDD, how much time are you putting in here? Obviously too much.

so nice you posted it twice, douchebag?

*yawn*

Lovie can use teh intarwebs good.

no doubt.

i blew my wad on my first response to that dunderhead. it's a shame too... cuz they said tons of quote worthy shit in that second post (well... second and third...)

i work with head injury patients so i'm pretty good at deciphering jumbled rambling, but that last response was too much of a mindfuck for me.

looks like it's time for a stroh's.

1. i wonder if this lovie person is a member of a band that olson has written positively about. i'd say the odds are good that lovie is just trying to kiss some ass, here. because anyone with eyes can see how much of a sub-hack olson is. if andrew olson has a habit of throwing you free press, though, then maybe i can understand defending him. or maybe he's a cousin or something. or perhaps olson has an army of half-illiterate loyal readers who love jam bands and lenny kravitz and think punk rock is "that good charlotte stuff."

2. going after a guy (mat) because he goes to the trouble of spell-checking his writings in an attempt to make them better isn't much of a tactic, especially when we're arguing about the validity of a music writer who claims to write his columns in "two minutes" and leaves all the editing to someone else. yeah, that's a guy working hard to improve his craft. and, pal, don't go after someone for taking the time to try and make their writing better when you're farting out sentences like "capitulation is not a part of grammar." well, of course capitulation isn't a part of grammar. i'm not sure that surrendering is important with regard to comprehension of the written word. unless you're talking about andy olson, in which case you might have to actually surrender your intelligence to make it through one of his fucking columns.

3. in this whole 65-post thread, the worst-written entry is by the most widely-published journalist. by far. right here, andrew olson has handily, summarily damned andrew olson just by putting his own stubby, trembling fingers to his keyboard. i believe this is referred to as "shooting yourself in the foot." but i'm not a podiatrist or a marksman, so maybe i can't comment.

all your Lovie are belong to us.

I happen to like Brewhouse Beer...but I'm getting in touch with my Inner Cheesehead and learning to enjoy Leinenkugels.

here's number 67, bitches!

i just don't understand... in lovies' first post, they give me shit for not proofreading my work ("One more thing, for someone who goes on and on about grammar you need to proof your own stuff here.")...

... and then in their follow up post, they make fun of me for proofreading and correcting my stuff ("You are lame and spell-check your blogs.")

it leads me to believe the second post was made by an impostor lovie.

this cocksucker makes it a point to give me shit for making fun of andy's grammar by taking shots at my grammar... then tells me to be more creative when i point out their grammatical errors... i just.... don't.... get it...

p.s. -

dear lovie,
per your apparent confusion over my use of italics...basic html is really pretty simple... even for someone with your mental capacity. one day, with enough help... you too can make things bold or italic... if you really try hard... you might be able to make things both bold and italic, it'll take a lot of practice... and... eh... fuck it. you should work on learning how to tie your shoes first...)

yes! i get 69!!!

i'm not saying i don't like brewhouse beer... i'm just saying the hangover it leaves is fucking brutal.

i can say the same thing about thirsty pagan beer..

I get the same thing too, mat. brutal brutal hangovers...though Surly hangovers have got to be the tops in intensity.

I think that's because drinkin' three pints of the stuff is like downing six of something...lighter.

Mad props to Dave Hoops though...the man concocts some truly wicked brew.

I haven't been to the TPB in ages. Since way before the ownership change. Way WAY before. I'm glad Rick can concentrate on brewing now instead of having the whole business headache.

Gettin' closer!

Allright:

1. I am gay.
2. Zra is gay.
3. I hate myself and zra for being gay.
4. Where is Starfire thru all of this?
5. And Lundstrom? Lundberg? Lundquist? Whatshisname?
6. I will only be satisfied with 100 comments. Then I will log off for one full week.
7. Art sucks.

i totally agree... i just have a hard time nursing beers... so before i know it, i've had six...

i'm too old to bounce back from those kind of nights...

fine, fine. here's a few more:

1. this weather is terrible.
2. there's too many bands playing homegrown.
3. my band, my friend's band, my co-workers band got a shitty slot at a shitty venue.
4. pizza luce's baked potato pizza isn't as good as my roommate said it would be.
5. i'd go to shows at the red lion if i wasn't afraid of getting stabbed.
6. converse don't really get comfortable until they're about ready to be thrown in the garbage.

okay, since we're playing that game:

1. i kinda like this weather (I even snowshoed to work the friday after the blizzard). i know it's a headache but hey...

2. i don't like public restrooms. the only one i halfway care for is Luce's, but only because i really don't have to touch anything.

3. vicarious is so totally gay. and his gayness makes the entire city of duluth gay as well.

4. mister terwilliger, come quick, there's trouble down to the cement mixer, sir.

5. i set my pint glass down on the bar in a slightly different spot each time i take a drink.

6. if god is love and love is blind, does that mean ray charles is god?

7. if the beer is clear, don't go near. if it's thick and brown, drink it down.

8. i try to avoid stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk.

#74

I wonder what happens when I type in a source code into the comments section.

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Oh freddled gruntbuggly,
Thy micturations are to me
As plurdled gabbleblotchits
On a lurgid bee.
Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes
And hooptiously drangle me
With crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon,
See if I don't!

Roses are red
violets are blue
god I miss cocaine.

There's no earthly way of knowing Which direction we are going
There's no knowing where we're rowing Or which way the river's flowing
Is it raining?
Is it snowing?
Is a hurricane a-blowing?
Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
Are the fires of hell a-glowing?
Is the grisly reaper mowing?
Yes, the danger must be growing 'Cause the rowers keep on rowing
And they're certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing!

Sorry that I misspelled one word up there, but again, I am a shitty writer.

Sarcasm still never answered why he writes 75% of a magazine and claims to not be a journalist. Then he attacks another journalist who writes one column. CAPITALIZATION IS GRAMMAR.. SPELLING IS GRAMMAR.. YOU SUCK AT BOTH! You mag probably is filled with mistakes.

Then you have a friend who can write come here and find a spelling error in my post. Way to have a writer defend your sorry ass.

Like I said above Sarcasm, I would have quit long ago instead of looking like an idiot. You have no comebacks that make sense and we all can see why Olson went after you.

You have been expossssseeedd. Or as you spell it, "exposer".

Maybe it was a freudiant slip and you meant to say "poser"?

I can't sit here and read through this garbage. This is my last post as all you do is sit on the internet and complain.

Try making some music, oh yeah you can't anymore. I guess the grueling Fartwell band was too much.

Punk is dead, Green Day sold out in the early 1990s.

Tool sucked and so did Corn. The only reason anyone listened to those bands was because the only other bands were Justin Timberlake and Brittney Spears.

I didn't proofread this so have a field day with grammar if you are too dumb to argue easy points.

Sorry that I misspelled one word up there, but again, I am a shitty writer.

Sarcasm still never answered why he writes 75% of a magazine and claims to not be a journalist. Then he attacks another journalist who writes one column. CAPITALIZATION IS GRAMMAR.. SPELLING IS GRAMMAR.. YOU SUCK AT BOTH! You mag probably is filled with mistakes.

Then you have a friend who can write come here and find a spelling error in my post. Way to have a writer defend your sorry ass.

Like I said above Sarcasm, I would have quit long ago instead of looking like an idiot. You have no comebacks that make sense and we all can see why Olson went after you.

You have been expossssseeedd. Or as you spell it, "exposer".

Maybe it was a freudiant slip and you meant to say "poser"?

I can't sit here and read through this garbage. This is my last post as all you do is sit on the internet and complain.

Try making some music, oh yeah you can't anymore. I guess the grueling Fartwell band was too much.

Punk is dead, Green Day sold out in the early 1990s.

Tool sucked and so did Corn. The only reason anyone listened to those bands was because the only other bands were Justin Timberlake and Brittney Spears.

I didn't proofread this so have a field day with grammar if you are too dumb to argue easy points.

Sarcasm still never answered why he writes 75% of a magazine and claims to not be a journalist.

sorry i didn't answer your question. i must have missed it while sifting through the three hundred other nuggets of wisdom you've left for everyone.

i'm not a journalist. i've never taken a class or gotten a degree in journalism. until our zine came out, i've never written an article or a short story. i was/am a journalist in the same way any person that keeps a diary or blog is a journalist.

"You mag probably is filled with mistakes.

am i the only one that found this line funny?

and why in the fuck do you keep posting your messages twice?

Way to have a writer defend your sorry ass.

tony's not a writer. he's just a lot fucking smarter than you. he made a ton of valid points though, which you clearly ignore. why? because you can't justify anything you say. period.

I would have quit long ago instead of looking like an idiot.

taken out of context, this sentence is really awesome. i couldn't have said it better myself. YOU really should have quit long ago. each time you post (or double post) you look like even more of an idiot then you did in your previous post.

we all can see why Olson went after you.

we? you mean you and andy? or do you have fucking mouse in your pocket?

Try making some music, oh yeah you can't anymore.

you, very apparently, have a tough time understanding written word. no one has said i can't make music anymore.

I guess the grueling Fartwell band was too much.

for a dude who's whole basis for argument is the fact that i make fun of some guy, you sure spend a lot of time making fun of me. i guess that makes you a hypocrite, huh?

Punk is dead, Green Day sold out in the early 1990s.

yeah... because green day is so punk rock.... and, man, the last time i went to a punk show... no one was there. completely empty. i heard the triple rock is shutting their doors on the 1st of may because they can't make their rent.

Tool sucked and so did Corn. The only reason anyone listened to those bands was because the only other bands were Justin Timberlake and Brittney Spears.

ok. this is andy olson. has to be. and who the fuck said any of us listen to tool or Korn? (spelt with a K, meathead)

out of the four bands/artists you mentioned, you were only able to spell 2 of them correctly. yikes. also, tool and korn are still around, so i guess by saying they "sucked" instead of saying they "suck", you're admitting to currently liking both tool and Korn.

This is my last post...

bet it's not your last post. for people like you, it's never your last post.

as all you do is sit on the internet and complain

yeah. and all you do is sit on the internet and argue and tease people because of illness and injury. you're a class act. i work with handicapped people. shoot me an e-mail and i'll give you directions to the house i run. maybe you can swing by and make fun of them for the afternoon.

I didn't proofread this so have a field day with grammar if you are too dumb to argue easy points.

see, idiot... what you fail to understand is that if you want to go after peoples' grammar, you really should do a better job checking your own.

the difference between my occasional bad grammar... or misspelling of a word compared to mr. olson's is:

I'M NOT WRITING FOR A GODDAMN MAGAZINE WITH A DISTRIBUTION OF 13,000.

i'm writing in a goddamn blog for no one's entertainment but my own.

with that said, you'll find less mistakes in my writing then you will in his and that's (drum roll please...) FUCKING SAD.

he's the one that goes out of his way to talk about what a big shot journalist he is. by doing that, he opens himself up to getting his writing torn to shreds when it's printed full of spelling errors, run on sentences, no or misused punctuation...

... and the fact that guy can't even correctly spell Ringo Starr's last name? i mean seriously... what kind of music journalist is he?

I didn't proofread this so have a field day with grammar if you are too dumb to argue easy points.

me smart! me can do both!

What kind of narcissistic crybaby who plays in a band(s) that is constantly criticized for a lack of entertainment value in a newspaper, earns less than 10 dollars a performance because of lacking attendance, and breaks drumsticks due to poor drumming technique?

Someone who really sucks.

the drummer for foghat? maybe?

I was refering to you, idiot.

By the way, instead of monitoring this thread 24 hours a day like a lonely loser, why don't you go to the gym and work off some of that cheeseburger fed gut of yours. It would render this topic pointless.

Hey LocalMusicSucks, was yours one of the schools cancelled today? I hope you stuck your tongue out too while you wrote that.

localmusicsucks, why not make those kinds of comments when you're not hiding behind an alias? i don't think you're helping andy at all with your current approach. tell everyone who you are, and *then* make fun of mat's gut. at least you won't look like you're being a coward, then.

I was refering to you, idiot.

no shit, you fucking jerkoff. see... your e-mail address... [email protected]... i was making fun of you. you know, that's kinda my thing...

to clarify - my bands have never been criticized for "a lack of entertainment value" until i called andy olson on his bullshit. then all of the sudden the bands he spoke so highly of just months early were targets for his crybaby rants...

...and coming from a guy that gave afroman's tap room gig rave revues, i could give a flying fuck if he had anything nice to say about the bands i'm in.

By the way, instead of monitoring this thread 24 hours a day like a lonely loser, why don't you go to the gym and work off some of that cheeseburger fed gut of yours. It would render this topic pointless.

i've got no choice but to monitor this thread, fuckhead. every time a comment's posted i get a nice little e-mail from pdd...

and to make fun of me for being fat? wow. what an utter piece of shit you are. bet you make fun of ugly girls and "retards" too... i'm sure you find it extremely difficult to bite your tongue when a black guy walks by you... probably have a hard time keeping those racial tirades to yourself.

you close minded little prick.

and to touch on your first post:

you're a fucking idiot.

suggesting the reason drumsticks break is because of bad technique... apparently that whole "wood being smashed on steel" thing is way over your head, you cunt.

feel free to continue with your posts, but i'm pretty much done wasting my time with you.

(p.s. - i don't eat red meat... this is an all pasta gut)

I agree, if you played in a band that could draw an audience you wouldn't have to complain.

You don't care about that though. You care about playing what you want to play. Don't cry when you don't get any gigs as a result of that.

The people decide who sucks and who doesn't. If someone doesn't want to pay to watch you then they don't have to. (Which is why you are probably so poor and complain about how you make no money through music)

And if you don't like what someone writes you have the option to not read it.(Instead you read tons of articles by Olson and pick them apart)

Try writing a post that is not filled with "retard" (Nice when you say you work with the handicapped), and every other swearword or insult.

You seem like a very angry person, your music must reflect that. Try a happy thought or doing something good for once.

You got a problem with my music you fat talentless pig?

arguing with someone who thinks that "playing what you want to play" is a bad idea is obviously a total waste of time and energy. this person can't even let people know who he really is, so he doesn't even deserve to be acknowledged. it's a pointless endeavor.

hey everyone! we're getting closer to 100!!!

anyway...

my bands do just fine. very rarely do i play a "dud" show. however, many people don't understand how 99.9% of bands are paid around here.

at luce, for example, bands are not given a guarantee nor are they given a cut of bar or food sales. bands play for the money made at the door.

if you charge $3 a head and draw 150 people, your total door take is $450. in nearly all cases, the sound guy is paid between $100-$150 off the top. for the sake of argument, lets say he's getting $125. most shows are multi-band bills meaning there's more than one band playing. regardless of whether i set the show up or am in the "headlining" band, if that $325 is given to me, i always split it up equally.

generally there's three bands per night. each band is making just over $100 which is then split, depending on the band, between 3 and 5 members.

your turn out was pretty damn good, but after splitting what was made, you're still going to walk away with $20 or $30 a piece.

i've never really bitched about the money i make. i don't expect to do much more than break even, but when a music writer comes out of nowhere and suggests that musicians are expecting too much by wanting to break even... sorry. i'm not going to be cool with that.

as for the amount of shows i play, i do just fine. the bands i'm in are actually generally in the habit of turning down a few shows a month because it's quite easy to over saturate the small market here.

and to clarify, i never called anyone retarded. i suggested another anonymous poster felt the need to make fun of me for being fat is more than likely the type to pick on people with mental health problems as he apparently has no issue picking on fat people.

furthermore, regarding your statement about simply not reading what andy writes... i couldn't agree more... but with that being said...

the fact that he continues to personally attack me and my friends on a regular basis makes simply ignoring him rather difficult. i, as a general rule, don't pick up the reader but when an issue comes out and within hours i have a voice mail box with 36 different messages from people telling me i should really pick up a reader, i kinda feel i should see what's going on.

as for your suggestion that i'm a very angry person - i'd actually disagree with you there. i'm a very content person. that does not mean, however, that i will sit back and keep my mouth shut when someone fucks with me or my friends nor will i sit back and watch someone trivialize a music community i've been a part of since 1994.

as for doing something good with my life... well... if spending 40-60 hours a week working with people that are mentally challenged, suicidal, depressed or crazy isn't enough... i'm not really quite sure what else i should do...

i'm open to suggestions.

You got a problem with my music you fat talentless pig?

you're pretty angry for a hippie, aren't you?

"you're a fucking idiot."

"andy olson, you fucking worthless piece of shit -

i pray to fucking christ, some maroon 5 loving frat boy beats the living shit out of you while your groovin' to the smoothe sounds of the fucking alrights this weekend. words can't describe the amount of bad shit i wish on you."

"as for your suggestion that i'm a very angry person - i'd actually disagree with you there. i'm a very content person."

How could anyone argue with you when you constantly contradict yourself?

One could probably just cut your posts out and watch you argue with yourself.

Do you have a life?

Mr. Sarcasm, you sure do like that “quote pulling” thing, don’t you? Let me give it a try.

“to clarify - my bands have never been criticized for "a lack of entertainment value"

I highly doubt that Andrew Olson would write a thinly veiled negative satire about a band that was actually good. I didn’t read his review of this “afroman” group, but I’ll assume he didn’t call their latest album “Who smelt it dealt it.” If that isn’t clear enough for you, I’ll say you and your lame bands “lack entertainment value.”

“i've got no choice but to monitor this thread”

Then try your best to make peace with whomever or whatever is making you monitor and post on this thread 24 hours a day and follow my earlier suggestion about attending the gym.

“and to make fun of me for being fat?”

What makes you think I am making fun of you? I’m just stating facts.

“i'm sure you find it extremely difficult to bite your tongue when a black guy walks by you”

Oh, the unwarranted “accusation of racial prejudice” routine. Along with a plethora of foul language name calling. Don’t accuse you of dishing it out.

“Suggesting the reason drumsticks break is because of bad technique... apparently that whole "wood being smashed on steel"

I knew you sucked at drums. You hit the head when you play, not “smash steel against wood.” Drumheads (the part you are supposed to hit) are made from a thin fiberglass or animal hide material. Kindergarten physics would tell you that the hard maple or hickory drumsticks are made of have a higher density and therefore be stronger than drumheads. Unless of course you play steel drums in a reggae band. I’m sorry, was that racist?

(p.s. - i don't eat red meat... this is an all pasta gut)
You are just a big health nut, aren’t you?

i don't think that was actually teague alexy. it was probably gomer pyle/localmusicsucks.

you made some good points, there. i'm sure they will all be ignored.

again: anyone who takes the time to spout their opinion but fearfully hides behind an alias is a person who isn't respectable in any way. lobbing cheap personal insults is easy when you're hidden.

This thread is hilarious. I hope it sees 100!
I stopped reading a lot of the alternative print products when the 'saw got ripped. The Reader has always been something I avoid reading, as there is nothing worth reading, in the Reader (That's kind of fun to keep playing with...)

I am being introduced to Andrew Olson's music reviews by this thread. Frankly, the piece written (assuming what was quoted in this blog was actually published in print... I'm not going to waste my time looking for a reader to verify) was incredibly distasteful and shows the quality of the Reader quite transparently, and why also is a perfect display of why I avoid it. If I wanted to read some down and dirty personal trash talking, I'd read the internet! I don't expect that filth to be published in a physically printed publication that seems to represent our area to those unfamilliar. "Oh what's this paper? Oh it must be the alternative weekly pub. I should check it out and see what Duluth is about!" -- People don't take blog postings nearly as serious or representative of an area as an actual printed publication.

What really caused me to actually post on this thread though -- was the idea that I am fully convinced that Andrew Olson seems to be writing under three different names!

Andrew Olson
Lovie
and LoclMusicSucks!

Just in the way that these three people do not partake in the conversation at hand with each other, but instead seem to replace each other.

That made me giggle :D

Just to further display that possibility~

This is not tony. lol

Don't be fooled!

Schrodingers Post:

The author of this post is, and is not, gonolius.

100?

I got the 100th post!

That is so awesome. How frickin' appropriate!

I'll bet Sarcasm's ego is going through the roof. He should celebrate by eating himself to death.

The Ripsaw sucked and went out of business over 2 years ago. If you want it back so bad why not ressurect it?

The Ripsaw also has been gone now longer than it was in print.

I am sure those writers got sick of writing about Black Eyed Snakes, Low, and Crew Jones for 2 years straight. Or maybe they never grew tired as the owners of the Ripsaw were in those bands.

The Ripsaw was around for 5 years...

The Ripsaw was "owned" by Brad and Tim Nelson. Brad is/was in the Snakes. Neither Tim nor Brad was in Low or Crew Jones.

I wasn't asking for it back.
I wasn't needing it.

I'm merely stating that its quality was out of the Reader's league, and that the Reader currently represents Duluth's alternative print publications (wheras before there were two of them.)

Maybe the Rip can RIP, but take the Reader out the door with it. Or at least clean up their act. It wouldn't be bad if it didn't feel like a middle school pissing match (i.e. Andrew's blurb in the Reader. Entertaining? Maybe if you still like to watch Beavis and Butthead and laugh every time someone says "I Farted."

What he wrote was merely just a pissy post that belongs on some blog on the internet, not a print publication representing our area.

Use that space to promote artists, instead of sticking your dick in their ear.

You hit the head when you play, not “smash steel against wood.”

i'll take rimshots and cymbals for two hundred, alex.

... and then not playing like a sissy jazz drummer for a thousand...

so basically, this knob is saying if a drummer breaks sticks... then they have poor technique.

good luck with that logic, pal.

i think #100 deserves a prize.

free fartwell tour cds to all!!!

Holy fuck, is that your best retort? At least you didn't accuse me for being a racist. After all, I did mention reggae.

By the way drum expert, cymbals are made out of brass, not steel. Why don’t you just give up trying to sound so smart with your bizarre metallurgy of a drum kit and remember what I said about the gym, pasta boy.

I am not an internet geek and know how to post a pic, but I found one of Mat eating his cheeseburger:

http://philip.greenspun.com/images/20050813-newport-jazz-festival/fat-shirtless-guy-eating-cheeseburger-2.4.jpg

Rob Halford's gay? No gay man wears that much leather!

I am bleeding, making me the victor!

This was an April Fools issue. Obviously some people can't take a joke.

I said I wasn't gonna post, but this is BS. Even Mat said the article was funny. So what if he compared it to obscure comedians to make himself sound intellegent. HE STILL SAID IT WAS FUNNY!!

So what is the arguement here about?

hey, localmusicsucks/gomer pyle. we're all still waiting for you to stop name-calling and actually say something useful under your real name. until then, you're not helping andy. at all.

ahha! but i said it was funny in a very sad way... in the same way it's funny watching a drunk frat guy telling fart jokes...

it's not intelligent humor... hell... it's not even real humor. you laugh because you picture a few hundred other people sitting at home feeling sorry for the guy.

it's funny because you can tell by reading it he was really trying to be clever and witty but instead, just looks like an uneducated jackass that has a hard time forming sentences.

is it not fairly obvious to everyone else that "lovie" is actually andrew olson?

i mean, he actually wrote:

"I like what Andrew Olson writes and think he is dead on."

and

"Keep writing Andrew, there are readers out here who support what you do! Don't listen to a few washed up has-beens. You shouldn't waste your time or the Reader's ink on them."

fairly sure an IP address check would confirm this hunch.

olson, just admit it.

mmmmmm...
Tacos...
Burritos...
4th Street..

andrew olson's ip address: 68.191.146.151

lovie's e-mail address:
68.191.146.151

sure seem to look identical to me.

Goddamn these Andy Olson inspired threads are fun. Has there ever been one that didn't make it over 100 posts? I'm sure there has, but it seems like most spin wildly out of control at some point. Keep it up folks!

Now you are a hacker too? Those Ips are from Hotmail, what about the other numbers?

Sherlock Homes..

i'm an asshole and a hacker...

or...

the e-mail i get from PDD telling me so and so has posted a comment contains the following information:

IP address
posting name
e-mail address used.

this also comes in really handy when some idiot post comments using another board member's name.

how bout them twins?

That makes me sad. Poor Andy has to give himself encouragement and tell himself that there are faithful readers out there. I picture him sitting all alone in the dark in front of his computer, tears welling in his eyes as he writes to himself about how good a writer he is. It just tugs at my heartstrings. Maybe he just writes such bad articles picking on local bands because he is lonely and this is the only way he can get attention, the only way he feel important in all your lives. I don't like his writing but I'm won't say anything else bad about him because it is starting to feel like kicking a sick puppy. I think Andy just needs a hug.

~$ nslookup 68.191.146.151
Server: FUCKOFF
Address: FUCKOFF#53

Non-authoritative answer:
151.146.191.68.in-addr.arpa name = 68-191-146-151.dhcp.dlth.mn.charter.com.

See also: http://www.dnsstuff.com/tools/whois.ch?ip=68.191.146.151

Sure looks like Hotmail to me =)

yes, andy is a bad writer. but that's not the point. and, yes, mat, you are kinda angry. but that's not the point either. if we stop going off on tangents pointing out spelling and grammatical errors nobody will ever understand the fundamental wrongdoings and all-around not-niceness exacted on the struggling artists of duluth by a man purposedly there to enhance, critique and, in so doing, be a part of said community.
in the end, we all know criticism is merely opinion in print. and that is fine. helpful even. but andy, due to a general lack of professionalism and understanding of what it is to write things down and print them for public view, has crossed over into libel. it's not okay and you can sue him and the reader and use the money (or coupons) to start up the ripsaw again.
don't believe me about the libel? we can review, but needless to say, at this point, andy, you may want to avoid suggesting you would be glad if mat got his "ass kicked by a bunch of frat guys". it won't help your case. yes, this is an overly litigious society. but the laws are there for a reason, at times. this time, to keep the idiots in check.

while reading these posts i am reminded of a scene from the movie 'i heart huckabees' where jude law and jason schwartzman realize that although they are realized enemies, they are actually 'one'.

andy, and mat are 'one'. they just don't know it yet. it's like the one armed man from twin peaks. andy is the arm, mat is the man.

mayday is 100% correct. Forgot about that, doi. Should have mentioned that in my first post. Libel was pounded into my head when I was in college. That's what I get for going to the University of Wasted Space. Andy/Lovie/Gomer Pyle/LocalMusicSucks.. WHOEVER Andy is... From a former journalist to a non-journalist, I strongly suggest you keep your piehole shut and your primary crayons in their box. The Reader may be a penniless rag, but you've breached the border of libel and that's serious shit if Matt so desires to persue litigation. You and your dull wit will be silenced. Don't believe me? Just keep pushing. Be a man and just walk away from your insipid launch on the individuals you've slandered in print. Am I bored? Am I a loser? Have I nothing else better to do? No. I just keep checking on this particular post from time to time because it's gotten so out of control that its become fairly hilarious. This is the last comment on this post for me. I must add that I find it unbelievably pathetic and downright sad that he posted under a different name(s?) and ill-attempted personality(ies?). Now all I feel is pity for the guy. Good luck, folks. It's been interesting.

1. Can you read mayday?

"it's not okay and you can sue him and the reader and use the money (or coupons) to start up the ripsaw again.
don't believe me about the libel? we can review, but needless to say, at this point, andy, you may want to avoid suggesting you would be glad if mat got his

******"ass kicked by a bunch of frat guys". ****

it won't help your case. yes, this is an overly litigious society. but the laws are there for a reason, at times. this time, to keep the idiots in check.

-- MAT said that about Andrew Olson. You have it backwards. See his blog for the other stuff, someone should contact that journal company.

2. Let us talk Libel, you need to read very carefully. If you ever took a law class you would know that Libel is pretty hard to prove. Andrew could sue Mat for making a bumper sticker that read, "Andy Olson is a fucking piece of shit". Or read Mat's blog and see what other remarks he has made. In that April Fools there are no real names used. Mary-
Kate Olsen would have a better chance from the article about her in that issue.

3. I am not Andrew Olson. That is the beauty of the internet people. I'm not a writer or a musician, just someone who comes here.

4. This topic is old.

I am not the other people who have come here either. They speak on their own behalf, but to be honest I do know Andrew Olson. (Release all the IPadresses if you don't believe me ---- nice anon blog here BTW) I still think he is a great writer despite what you say.

I will say this though, he does need to expand what music he listens to. Read the Alternative Press, be more up on new and unknown music.

With that said, I know the fighting with Mat really left a bad taste in his mouth a few years back. He has talked of being sick of writing about local bands after the treatment some have given him. He also refuses to post here after a fiasco from 2 years ago when bolgs filled up.

Any publicity is good though in my view. Before he wrote that State Champs article no one talked about either of these people. Now it is the talk of the town. So was it all really bad?

You two should find a common ground so your art isn't too effected by all the negativity.

" I'm not a writer or a musician, just someone who comes here."

i think what you meant to say is:

"i'm not a writer or a musician, just someone that likes flinging shit behind the safety of internet anonymity.

re: all this slander crap,

sorry all, but as a member of the press, andy wouldn't have a chance suing me or anyone else for slander.

if making bumper stickers and t-shirts calling public figures on their shit was illegal, web sites like tshirthell.com would have been shut down years ago. same goes for publicly criticizing them on the intra-net.

what blows my mind about anyone that supports this guy is they totally neglect to address the fact that if what i'm doing is wrong, that would make olson no better.

at any rate, the chaps in sleepfarmer are absolutely correct when they say this thread has become fucking boring.

snore.

You two should find a common ground...

actually, common ground was reached. the reader's old editor asked what it would take for me to leave him alone. the answer was quite easy: i didn't want him writing about my bands. talking shit about my friends or taking shots at me in his column. i didn't say a peep about the guy for months...

... and then i noticed this personal shots at me would pop up occasionally.

Just to remind you internet pedophile losers: the Olson article is now seven days old. Andy Olson contributed his say and left this thread a long time ago with dignity. You pussies still piss and moan for a week straight just because thumbudy called you a bad name.
Time for you dog shit excuses for humans to take a good long look in the mirror. You just insult yourself.

And you, LocalMusicSucks, come here to bitch and complain that there are people still bitching and complaining about this topic.

Regardless, what people do on their own time is their own business.

My time spent here has all been on your tax dollar. I am sure others have spent most of their time here while they were at work too.

It's just a nice distraction from actually working.

localmusicsucks, you've been asked numerous times to stop posting your comments anonymously, and you haven't had the guts to do so. you are by far the most cowardly person in this whole thread. you've got an opinion? own it. stand up and make yourself known. otherwise, *you're* the internet pedophile loser, pal. it's super easy to say the shit you say when you're hiding behind your internet bunker of anonymity. you have nothing to offer besides insults and attacks.

do you not realize that you're not helping andy in the slightest?

Hey Tony, that "internet bunker of anonymity" sure sucks for you, doesn't it? Why have guts when it is so much more fun motivating nerds like yourself to look up Hotmail IPs. And who says anything about defending Andy Olson? Im just calling ass on your fat buddy's consistent contradictions, whining, and need for attention. You can call me names like "by far the most cowardly person in this whole thread" all you want, but at least I won't be crying about it all over the internet like a little girl because somebody called me a bad name.

i suppose i could just start deleting this guy's comments...

Start deleting comments?

Who runs this board anyway?

If this is another "Mat" board, why bother coming here? It is probably just him and his friends posting as 10 different people fake arguing.

I think it was Bull-ogna that IPaddresses were given to Sarcasm. This board sucks if people can just hunt people down and accuse people.

he still didn't say who he was.

why spout your opinion if you're not going to own up to it? i suppose he stays anonymous because he's afraid of some sort of possible real-world confrontation. makes sense.

free speech,

it's not unheard of for an internet troll like "localmusicsucks" to get their comments deleted. when you've got nothing of worth to add and all you're interested in doing is lobbing extremely personal insults and nothing else, then it's fairly commonplace for you to be ejected or banned or deleted or whatever.

this person has shown no interest in owning up to who they are and standing behind their comments, so why would you defend that? it may be because you too are afraid to post as yourself.

and i'm pretty sure that the person that starts the thread is the person who does the housekeeping, although i could be wrong about that.

it's pdd's site, but it's my thread. i'm down with people voicing their opinions, regardless of them being the exact opposite of mine, but when some asshole troll comes here for the sole purpose of insulting people and starting shit?

fuck that.

you want to call people fat and post pictures of fat dudes eating cheeseburgers?

do it somewhere else.

localmusicsucks -

from this point forward, any comment you leave is going to be deleted.

head on over to the fallout boy website and go start shit with all the other teenagers if your sole purpose is getting a rise out of people.

That is totally Bull.

Sarcasmsetyourhouseonfire has called several people every swearword in the book here.

He started this thread to attack someone.

Then he wrote, "but when some asshole troll comes here for the sole purpose of insulting people and starting shit?"

LAME! LAME! LAME!

Someone beat you at your own game.

I will never return here if you block someone doing exactly what you are doing. You are making a total double-standard.

What a baby.

"free speech": mat started this thread to bring andy's writing to others' attention. it was totally warranted as criticism. localmusicsucks, on the other hand, is an internet troll who has nothing to add save personal insults. i mean, fuck, look at his name. the guy's a troll. and he'd never say any of this shit to anyone's face.

AGAIN: have some balls and post under your real name, or at least make it obvious who you are. or risk making it look like andrew olson's only supporters are cowardly internet trolls, i guess. actually, that's probably a foregone conclusion, at this point.

still not gonna say who you are? oh, well.

Didn't Tony put a pic of a fat guy in Mat's Journal?

Again, Sarcasm argues with himself.

-Great point above Free Speech about him whining and attacking at the same time.

Sarcasm says: I am not a journalist..

but...

I write 75% of the articles..

hmmmmmm...

Sarcasm says: Olson's writing is at a 3rd grade level..

but...

I don't believe in capitlization.. or "exposer"..

hmmmmmm... What grade do they teach capitalization?

You could go on allllll ddaaaaayyyy bbbbbaaaabbbbyyyy!

He should delete his own threads so he stops arguing with himself. For all we know this is him now.

Oh wait, that's why he has my ip address.

Your reviews on your blog are super lame"

"owen (mike kinsella, brother of joan of arch's tim kinsella) played next. i wasn't a huge fan of his prior to this show, but man... am i sold now. watching this guy play guitar was fucking crazy. seriously... being a drummer, i don't get super blown away by guitar players, but this guy was insane... and to sing over some of this stuff he was playing? man...

ex-waxwing singer rocky votolato played next. we stuck around for a few songs because chad was playing bass, but that guy wasn't doing it for me... considering he was the only dude that had a band and played all "electrified", he was pretty goddamn boring. i could do without ever seeing him again. didn't help that the bleach blond bitch with the broken foot sitting directly behind me was, apparently, his number one fan as she felt the need to hoot, holla and shout songs out after each song.

eh.

anyway... there's a little show review. all bands linked from here are worth checking out."

DAMN, I AM GOING TO SEE THESE BANDS NOW!! YOU CONVINCED ME!!

Are they "worth checking out?" Should I just take your word for it?

I am at a loss reading your attempted reviews here.

Everything you said about Olson 100 threads ago could apply to you. For that matter everything you have ever said you should look in the mirror.

Olson wasted his ink on you. I just realized after reading your blog, review, and this that I have lost so much of my life in reading this crap and responding at all.

Screw all of you! When I am on my deathbed and think back to the time I wasted here - I will kick my own ass.

lovie,

to answer your question...

"Are they "worth checking out?" Should I just take your word for it?"

no. i don't think you should. i think you'd be much better off just killing yourself.

LOCALMUSICSUCKS ...

NOOOOOOO....

AHHHH...

They are coming for us, the free speech police.

Sarcasm is really George Bush! LOOK OUT HE IS TAKING AWAY YOUR RIGHT TO SPEAK!

"Stratigarie..."

I have decided that this is the OFFICIAL THREAD FOR THOSE WHO HAVE NO LIFE.

Chime in!

A new Reader comes out on Thursdays..

We may be able to carry this on forever!!

What did he write now?

Oh here it is,

Sarcasm you better run and grab one!!

QUICK !!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Just kidding.. OR AM I!

This thread makes my head feel like I've drunk 4 Oatmeal stouts in under 5 mins.

Other than the fact that Andrew says he's helping the local music scene, I've never really had a problem with him, that is, until recently. He's taken personal shots at my friends, their bands, and now my band. It bothers me that he's somehow convinced himself that it's o.k. to take stabs at an entire band, and an entire community of musicians, when the fact is, is that he's only got a problem with one of its members. It's fine if he has a personal beef with someone, but you don't use your music "reviews" to take shots at that person or their band, then you hide behind it by calling it "satire." Save the personal shots for your journal.

I also think it's funny that Mr. Olson would take issue with a person, when they were just calling him on his lack of writing abilities, and lack music knowledge. After all you call yourself a writer, but lack to proof read your articles, I wouldn't be to proud of myself if I was in your shoes Andy.

The reason I finally took issue was that I thought the article where he suggested to his readers not to bother going to a The State Champs show and the April Fools "Fartwell Tour" piece went too far. I don't think I could feel any more disappointed with the Reader right now, but you know, my disappointment really falls on Andrew Olson. If he feels he's helping the local scene, and that we, the musicians, are "ruining the music community..." then I think he should step back and take a really good look at what he's doing. I've gone to alot of shows in the last 4-5 years, and I've only seen Andrew Olson at one of those shows, way to be a part of the music scene.

As for those who won't give their real names or make it obvious who they are one here, you should get a life. Stand behind your words, I did.

I always wondered, how come Matt O and Matt M look like clones? Is there some kind of "Single White Female" thing going on?

umm..i've been out of town for acouple days. sorry i missed out on the fun.

i've found some of this alittle enjoyable, basically because some posters, (andy included) have been defending andy's articles and themselves about alot of things, and at the sametime taking jabs at the local music scene and other posters. which is completely fine. you go girl!

but you have to understand that your side of the matter is null and void due to the fact that none of you have actually claimed to be local musicians. so uhhhhhhh...you don't know what you're talking about.

oh, and who the hell was telling mat m that cymbals aren't steel? WHA?!?!? YOU DON'T SAY!? DUDE, the guy MAKES fucking drumsets, i would bet on him in a percussion quiz against that dip anyday.
(fucking sweet drums by the way mat, i got to play on one of them once! oOoOO)

go back to clown college you non-musicians trying to talk shit about a scene and profession/hobby you know nothing about. do you go to shows? do you see what we do?

woops this is becoming a huge rant. maybe i didn't read enough of this page to find out if i'm making a point. though, personally when andy called mat m. fat, flat out that drew the line for me, even if it 'claimed' to be an "april fools" article.

so wait, if he doesn't like my band, is he going to make fun of the fact that i'm a short nerd?!

*points finger in the air and wags it*
(insert Darth Vader voice)

"Must...Create...Hypo Global...Mechanical...Leg Extender...Anti..Nerd Glasses...Apparatus!" hmah!

-dubz

oh i also thought that it's kindof funny that on andy's website, the Little Black Books link goes to Number One Common's website.