Беспокойное бессмертие: 450 лет со дня рождения Уильяма Шекспира — страница 32 из 54

For now they kill me with a living death.

Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears,

Shamed their aspècts 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 bedashed 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 lip such scorn, for it was made

For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.

If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,

Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword,

Which if thou please to hide in this true breast

And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,

I lay it naked to the deadly stroke

And humbly beg the death upon my knee.

He lays his breast open; she offers at with his sword.

Nay, do not pause, for I did kill King Henry,

But ’twas thy beauty that provokèd me.

Nay, now dispatch; ’twas I that stabbed young Edward,

But ’twas thy heavenly face that set me on.

She falls the sword.


Take up the sword again, or take up me.


Anne

Arise, dissembler; though I wish thy death,

I will not be the executioner.

Richard

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


Anne

I have already.


Richard

                                     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 shalt thou be àccessary.

Anne

I would I knew thy heart.


Richard

ʼTis figured in my tongue.


Anne

I fear me both are false.


Richard

Then never man was true.


Anne

Well, well, put up your sword.


Richard

Say then my peace is made.


Anne

That shalt thou know hereafter.


Richard

But shall I live in hope?


Anne

All men, I hope, live so.


Richard

Vouchsafe to wear this ring.


Anne

To take is not to give.


Richard

Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger.

Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart.

Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.

And if thy poor devoted servant may

But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,

Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.

Anne

What is it?


Richard

That it would please thee leave these sad designs

To him that hath more cause to be a mourner

And presently repair to Crosby House,

Where, after I have solemnly interred

At Chertsey monast’ry 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.

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.

Richard

Bid me farewell.


Anne

                         ʼTis more than you deserve;

But since you teach me how to flatter you,

Imagine I have said farewell already.

Exeunt two with Anne.


Richard

Sirs, take up the corpse.


Gentlemen

Towards Chertsey, noble lord?


Richard

No, to Whitefriars; there attend my coming.

Exeunt all but Richard with the corpse.

Was ever woman in this humour wooed?

Was ever woman in this humour won?

I’ll have her, but I will not keep her long.

What, I that killed 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 my hatred by,

Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me,

And I no friends to back my suit withal

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

Stabbed in my angry mood at Tewkesbury?

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 abase her eyes on me,

That cropped the golden prime of this sweet prince

And made her widow to a woeful bed?

On me, whose all not equals Edward’s moiety?

On me, that halts and am misshapen 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 marv’lous proper man.

I’ll be at charges for a looking-glass

And entertain a score or two of tailors

To study fashions to adorn my body.

Since I am crept in favour with myself,

I 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 3

Enter the queen Mother [Elizabeth], lord Rivers, and lord Grey [and the marquess of Dorset].


Rivers

Have patience, madam. There’s no doubt his majesty

Will soon recover his accustomed health.

Grey

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

Therefore, for God’s sake, entertain good comfort,

And cheer his grace with quick and merry eyes.

Elizabeth

If he were dead, what would betide on me?


Rivers

No other harm but loss of such a lord.


Elizabeth

The loss of such a lord includes all harms.


Grey

The heavens have blessed you with a goodly son

To be your comforter when he is gone.

Elizabeth

Ah, 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?


Elizabeth

It is determined, not concluded yet,

But so it must be if the king miscarry.

Enter Buckingham and Stanley Earl of Derby.


Grey

Here come the lords of Buckingham and Derby.


Buckingham

Good time of day unto your royal grace.


Stanley

God make your majesty joyful, as you have been.


Elizabeth

The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby,

To your good prayer 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.

Stanley

I do beseech you, either not believe

The envious slanders of her false accusers,

Or if she be accused on true report,

Bear with her weakness, which I think proceeds

From wayward sickness and no grounded malice.

Rivers

Saw you the king today, my lord of Derby?


Elizabeth

But now the Duke of Buckingham and I

Are come from visiting his majesty.


Elizabeth

What likelihood of his amendment, lords?


Buckingham

Madam, good hope. His grace speaks cheerfully.


Elizabeth

God grant him health. Did you confer with him?


Buckingham

Ay, madam. He desires to make atonement

Between the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers,

And between them and my Lord Chamberlain,

And sent to warn them to his royal presence.

Elizabeth

Would all were well, but that will never be.

I fear our happiness is at the hight.

Enter Richard and Hastings.


Richard

They do me wrong, and I will not endure it.

Who is it that complain unto the king

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