Беспокойное бессмертие: 450 лет со дня рождения Уильяма Шекспира

Clarence
 
 
By heaven, I think there is no man secure
 
But the queen’s kindred and night-walking heralds
 
That trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore.
 
Heard you not what an humble suppliant
 
Lord Hastings was for her delivery?
 
 
Richard
 
 
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’er-worn widow and herself,
 
Since that our brother dubbed them gentlewomen,
 
Are mighty gossips in our 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 your brother.
 
 
Richard
 
 
Even so. And 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 gentlefolks.
 
How say you, sir? Can you deny all this?
 
 
Brakenbury
With this, my lord, myself have nought to do.
Richard
 
 
Naught to do with Mistress Shore? I tell thee, fellow,
 
He that doth naught with her (excepting one)
 
Were best to do it secretly alone.
 
 
Brakenbury
What one, my lord?
Richard
Her husband, knave. Wouldst thou betray me?
Brakenbury
 
 
I do beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal
 
Forbear your conference with the noble duke.
 
 
Clarence
We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.
Richard
 
 
We are the queen’s abjects and must obey.
 
Brother, farewell. I will unto the king,
 
And whatsoe’er you will employ me in,
 
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.
Richard
 
 
Well, your imprisonment shall not be long.
 
I will deliver you or else Lie for you.
 
Meantime, have patience.
 
 
Clarence
 
 
I must perforce. Farewell.
 
 
Exeunt Clarence, Brakenbury, and guards.
Richard
 
 
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-delivered Hastings?
 
 
Enter Lord Hastings.
Hastings
Good time of day unto my gracious lord.
Richard
 
 
As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain.
 
Well are you welcome to this open air.
 
How hath your lordship brooked 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.
 
 
Richard
 
 
No doubt, no doubt, and so shall Clarence too,
 
For they that were your enemies are his
 
And have prevailed as much on him as you.
 
 
Hastings
 
 
More pity that the eagles should be mewed
 
While kites and buzzards play at liberty.
 
 
Richard
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.
 
 
Richard
 
 
Now by Saint John, that news is bad indeed.
 
Oh, he hath kept an evil diet long
 
And over-much consumed his royal person.
 
ʼTis very grievous to be thought upon.
 
Where is he, in his bed?
 
 
Hastings
He is.
Richard
Go you before, and I will follow you.
Exit Hastings.
 
 
He cannot live, I hope, and must not die
 
Till George be packed with post-horse up to heaven.
 
I’ll in to urge his hatred more to Clarence
 
With lies well steeled with weighty arguments,
 
And if I fail 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 killed 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.