1    Now is the winter of our discontent
2    Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
3    And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
4    In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
5    Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
6    Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
7    Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
8    Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
9    Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
10   And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
11   To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
12   He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
13   To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
14   But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
15   Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
16   I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
17   To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
18   I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
19   Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
20   Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
21   Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
22   And that so lamely and unfashionable
23   That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
24   Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
25   Have no delight to pass away the time,
26   Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
27   And descant on mine own deformity:
28   And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
29   To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
30   I am determined to prove a villain
31   And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
32   Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
33   By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,
34   To set my brother Clarence and the king
35   In deadly hate the one against the other:
36   And if King Edward be as true and just
37   As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
38   This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up,
39   About a prophecy, which says that 'G'
40   Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
41   Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here
42   Clarence comes.
Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY
43   Brother, good day; what means this armed guard
44   That waits upon your grace?

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

48   Upon what cause?

49   Because my name is George.

50   Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours;
51   He should, for that, commit your godfathers:
52   O, belike his majesty hath some intent
53   That you shall be new-christen'd in the Tower.
54   But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know?

55   Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest
56   As yet I do not: but, as I can learn,
57   He hearkens after prophecies and dreams;
58   And from the cross-row plucks the letter G.
59   And says a wizard told him that by G
60   His issue disinherited should be;
61   And, for my name of George begins with G,
62   It follows in his thought that I am he.
63   These, as I learn, and such like toys as these
64   Have moved his highness to commit me now.

65   Why, this it is, when men are ruled by women:
66   'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower:
67   My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she
68   That tempers him to this extremity.
69   Was it not she and that good man of worship,
70   Anthony Woodville, her brother there,
71   That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower,
72   From whence this present day he is deliver'd?
73   We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe.

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

79   Humbly complaining to her deity
80   Got my lord chamberlain his liberty.
81   I'll tell you what; I think it is our way,
82   If we will keep in favour with the king,
83   To be her men and wear her livery:
84   The jealous o'erworn widow and herself,
85   Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen.
86   Are mighty gossips in this monarchy.

87   I beseech your graces both to pardon me;
88   His majesty hath straitly given in charge
89   That no man shall have private conference,
90   Of what degree soever, with his brother.

91   Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury,
92   You may partake of any thing we say:
93   We speak no treason, man: we say the king
94   Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen
95   Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous;
96   We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
97   A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue;
98   And that the queen's kindred are made gentle-folks:
99   How say you sir? Can you deny all this?

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

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

104  What one, my lord?

105  Her husband, knave: wouldst thou betray me?

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

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

109  We are the queen's abjects, and must obey.
110  Brother, farewell: I will unto the king;
111  And whatsoever you will employ me in,
112  Were it to call King Edward's widow sister,
113  I will perform it to enfranchise you.
114  Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood
115  Touches me deeper than you can imagine.

116  I know it pleaseth neither of us well.

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

119  I must perforce. Farewell.

120  Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return.
121  Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so,
122  That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven,
123  If heaven will take the present at our hands.
124  But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings?

125  Good time of day unto my gracious lord!

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

129  With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must:
130  But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks
131  That were the cause of my imprisonment.

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

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

137  What news abroad?

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

141  Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed.
142  O, he hath kept an evil diet long,
143  And overmuch consumed his royal person:
144  'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.
145  What, is he in his bed?

146  He is.

147  Go you before, and I will follow you.
Exit HASTINGS
148  He cannot live, I hope; and must not die
149  Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven.
150  I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
151  With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments;
152  And, if I fall not in my deep intent,
153  Clarence hath not another day to live:
154  Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,
155  And leave the world for me to bustle in!
156  For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.
157  What though I kill'd her husband and her father?
158  The readiest way to make the wench amends
159  Is to become her husband and her father:
160  The which will I; not all so much for love
161  As for another secret close intent,
162  By marrying her which I must reach unto.
163  But yet I run before my horse to market:
164  Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns:
165  When they are gone, then must I count my gains.