Richard III

Tell me, cousin, I need to know if you can shake like you’ve got a fever, turn pale all of a sudden, and stop speaking in the middle of a word—as if you were driven crazy with fear.

Oh please, I can imitate the best tragic actor around. I can speak and then look all around, and tremble, and start at a mere piece of straw as if I were paranoid. Frightening looks are also at my service, as are fake smiles. Anytime I need them, they’re waiting to do my bidding. But has Catesby gone?

He has. But here he is, back with the mayor.

Lord Mayor—

Watch out for the drawbridge over there!

Listen! A drum!

Catesby, look over the top of these walls to see if anyone’s there.

Lord Mayor, the reason we have sent—

Look behind you! Defend yourself! There are enemies here.

God defend and guard us innocents against them!

Stay calm. They’re friends—Ratcliffe and Lovell.

Here’s the head of that notorious traitor, the dangerous and unsuspected Hastings.

I loved this man so much it makes me weep. I took him to be the plainest, most harmless Christian on earth. He was the book in which I recorded all of my most secret thoughts. He was so slick in covering over his plans that if it hadn’t been for his love affair with Shore’s wife, I would never have suspected him.

Well, well, he was the most covert traitor who ever lived. Would you believe, if we hadn’t caught him, this subtle traitor would have murdered the Lord of Gloucester and me in the council room today?

He would have?

What, do you think we’re Turks or savages, instead of Christians? You think we would have disobeyed the law and proceeded to kill this villain if England’s peace and our own lives hadn’t been at stake?

I hope nothing else like this ever happens to you! This man deserved his death. And you, my good lords, were right to warn other traitors from trying the same.

I didn’t expect any better from him once he got involved with Mistress Shore. But we had decided that he shouldn’t die until you were able to come witness his execution. (Which was prevented by the haste of our friends, Lovell and Ratcliffe here, who went against what we intended somewhat in their hurry to protect us). If you could have heard the traitor speak for himself and confess the exact way he planned to murder us, you could have told the citizens what terrible intentions he had, though now they’re likely to misconstrue what we did and wail over his death.

But, my good lord, the words of you and Lord Buckingham are as trustworthy to me as if I had seen and heard him speak myself. And do not doubt, you honest, noble princes, that I’ll let our citizens know how fairly you proceeded in this case.

That is exactly why we wanted you here, your lordship—to avoid the public carping and complaints.

But since you’ve come too late to see the execution as we intended, at least let people know what you hear we intended. And so, good Lord Mayor, we bid you goodbye.

Follow him, Buckingham. He’s traveling at a gallop to the London meeting hall. There, as soon as you have a chance, drop the hint that Edward’s children are bastards. Tell the citizens how Edward put to death a citizen just because the citizen said he was going to make his own son “heir to the crown”—when all the citizen meant was that he owned a tavern called “the Crown” and was going to leave it to his son. And then point out what a lech Edward was and what a bestial appetite he had for women, which touched even the citizens’ own servants, daughters, and wives. There was no limit to what his lustful eye and savage heart would prey on. And, if you need to, approach the subject of me: tell them that when my mother became pregnant with the insatiable Edward, my noble father was fighting in France. With a little calculating, it’s obvious that Edward is not in fact my father’s child—not a surprising revelation if you consider how my father the noble duke looked nothing like this man. But only hint at this vaguely, because, as you know, my mother’s still alive.

Don’t worry, my lord, I’ll be as eloquent as if the golden crown I’m pleading for were for myself. Goodbye, my lord.

If things go well, bring the crowd to Baynard’s Castle, where I’ll be surrounded by priests and learned bishops.

I’m off. Around three or four o’clock, look for news from the meeting hall.

Lovell, go as fast as you can to Doctor Shaw. (to RATCLIFFE) Go to Friar Penker. Both of you, tell these men to meet me in less than an hour at Baynard’s Castle.

Now I’ll go inside and write out a secret order to keep Clarence’s brats out of sight and to forbid anyone whatsoever from seeing King Edward’s sons.