Richard III. Уильям Шекспир
that (me thought) a Legion of foule Fiends
Inuiron'd me, and howled in mine eares
Such hiddeous cries, that with the very Noise,
I (trembling) wak'd, and for a season after,
Could not beleeue, but that I was in Hell,
Such terrible Impression made my Dreame
Keep. No maruell Lord, though it affrighted you,
I am affraid (me thinkes) to heare you tell it
Cla. Ah Keeper, Keeper, I haue done these things
(That now giue euidence against my Soule)
For Edwards sake, and see how he requits mee.
O God! if my deepe prayres cannot appease thee,
But thou wilt be aueng'd on my misdeeds,
Yet execute thy wrath in me alone:
O spare my guiltlesse Wife, and my poore children.
Keeper, I prythee sit by me a-while,
My Soule is heauy, and I faine would sleepe
Keep. I will my Lord, God giue your Grace good rest.
Enter Brakenbury the Lieutenant.
Bra. Sorrow breakes Seasons, and reposing houres,
Makes the Night Morning, and the Noon-tide night:
Princes haue but their Titles for their Glories,
An outward Honor, for an inward Toyle,
And for vnfelt Imaginations
They often feele a world of restlesse Cares:
So that betweene their Titles, and low Name,
There's nothing differs, but the outward fame.
Enter two Murtherers.
1.Mur. Ho, who's heere?
Bra. What would'st thou Fellow? And how camm'st
thou hither
2.Mur. I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither
on my Legges
Bra. What so breefe?
1. 'Tis better (Sir) then to be tedious:
Let him see our Commission, and talke no more.
Reads
Bra. I am in this, commanded to deliuer
The Noble Duke of Clarence to your hands.
I will not reason what is meant heereby,
Because I will be guiltlesse from the meaning.
There lies the Duke asleepe, and there the Keyes.
Ile to the King, and signifie to him,
That thus I haue resign'd to you my charge.
Enter.
1 You may sir, 'tis a point of wisedome:
Far you well
2 What, shall we stab him as he sleepes
1 No: hee'l say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes
2 Why he shall neuer wake, vntill the great Iudgement
day
1 Why then hee'l say, we stab'd him sleeping
2 The vrging of that word Iudgement, hath bred a kinde of remorse in me
1 What? art thou affraid?
2 Not to kill him, hauing a Warrant,
But to be damn'd for killing him, from the which
No Warrant can defend me
1 I thought thou had'st bin resolute
2 So I am, to let him liue
1 Ile backe to the Duke of Glouster, and tell him so
2 Nay, I prythee stay a little: I hope this passionate humor of mine, will change, It was wont to hold me but while one tels twenty
1 How do'st thou feele thy selfe now?
2 Some certaine dregges of conscience are yet within
mee
1 Remember our Reward, when the deed's done
2 Come, he dies: I had forgot the Reward
1 Where's thy conscience now
2 O, in the Duke of Glousters purse
1 When hee opens his purse to giue vs our Reward,
thy Conscience flyes out
2 'Tis no matter, let it goe: There's few or none will
entertaine it
1 What if it come to thee againe? 2 Ile not meddle with it, it makes a man a Coward: A man cannot steale, but it accuseth him: A man cannot Sweare, but it Checkes him: A man cannot lye with his Neighbours Wife, but it detects him. 'Tis a blushing shamefac'd spirit, that mutinies in a mans bosome: It filles a man full of Obstacles. It made me once restore a Pursse of Gold that (by chance) I found: It beggars any man that keepes it: It is turn'd out of Townes and Citties for a dangerous thing, and euery man that means to liue well, endeuours to trust to himselfe, and liue without it
1 'Tis euen now at my elbow, perswading me not to
kill the Duke
2 Take the diuell in thy minde, and beleeue him not:
He would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh
1 I am strong fram'd, he cannot preuaile with me
2 Spoke like a tall man, that respects thy reputation. Come, shall we fall to worke? 1 Take him on the Costard, with the hiltes of thy Sword, and then throw him into the Malmesey-Butte in the next roome
2 O excellent deuice; and make a sop of him
1 Soft, he wakes
2 Strike
1 No, wee'l reason with him
Cla. Where art thou Keeper? Giue me a cup of wine
2 You shall haue Wine enough my Lord anon
Cla. In Gods name, what art thou? 1 A man, as you are
Cla. But not as I am Royall
1 Nor you as we are, Loyall
Cla. Thy voice is Thunder, but thy looks are humble
1 My voice is now the Kings, my lookes mine owne
Cla. How darkly, and how deadly dost thou speake?
Your eyes do menace me: why looke you pale?
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