<SPEECH 1><ACT 1><SCENE 1><0%>
<RICHARD>	<1%>
	Speak thou for me, and tell them what I did.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 1><SCENE 1><1%>
<RICHARD>	<1%>
	Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 1><SCENE 1><1%>
<RICHARD>	<2%>
	Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 1><SCENE 1><4%>
<RICHARD>	<4%>
	You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose.
	Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 1><SCENE 1><4%>
<RICHARD>	<5%>
	Sound drums and trumpets, and the king will fly.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 6><ACT 1><SCENE 2><10%>
<RICHARD>	<10%>
	Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 7><ACT 1><SCENE 2><10%>
<RICHARD>	<10%>
	About that which concerns your Grace and us;
	The crown of England, father, which is yours.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 8><ACT 1><SCENE 2><10%>
<RICHARD>	<11%>
	Your right depends not on his life or death.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 9><ACT 1><SCENE 2><11%>
<RICHARD>	<11%>
	No; God forbid your Grace should be forsworn.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 10><ACT 1><SCENE 2><11%>
<RICHARD>	<11%>
	I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 11><ACT 1><SCENE 2><11%>
<RICHARD>	<11%>
	An oath is of no moment, being not took
	Before a true and lawful magistrate
	That hath authority over him that swears:
	Henry had none, but did usurp the place;
	Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose,
	Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
	Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think
	How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown,
	Within whose circuit is Elysium,
	And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.
	Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest
	Until the white rose that I wear be dy'd
	Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 12><ACT 1><SCENE 2><12%>
<RICHARD>	<12%>
	Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need:
	A woman's general; what should we fear?
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 13><ACT 2><SCENE 1><20%>
<RICHARD>	<21%>
	I cannot joy until I be resolv'd
	Where our right valiant father is become.
	I saw him in the battle range about,
	And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth.
	Methought he bore him in the thickest troop
	As doth a lion in a herd of neat;
	Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs,
	Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry,
	The rest stand all aloof and bark at him.
	So far'd our father with his enemies;
	So fled his enemies my war-like father:
	Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his son.
	See how the morning opes her golden gates,
	And takes her farewell of the glorious sun;
	How well resembles it the prime of youth,
	Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 14><ACT 2><SCENE 1><21%>
<RICHARD>	<21%>
	Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun;
	Not separated with the racking clouds,
	But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky.
	See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss,
	As if they vow'd some league inviolable:
	Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun.
	In this the heaven figures some event.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 15><ACT 2><SCENE 1><21%>
<RICHARD>	<22%>
	Nay, bear three daughters: by your leave I speak it,
	You love the breeder better than the male.

<STAGE DIR>
<Enter a Messenger.>
</STAGE DIR>
	But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 16><ACT 2><SCENE 1><22%>
<RICHARD>	<22%>
	Say how he died, for I will hear it all.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 17><ACT 2><SCENE 1><22%>
<RICHARD>	<23%>
	I cannot weep, for all my body's moisture
	Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart:
	Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burden;
	For self-same wind, that I should speak withal
	Is kindling coals that fire all my breast,
	And burn me up with flames, that tears would quench.
	To weep is to make less the depth of grief:
	Tears then, for babes; blows and revenge for me!
	Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death,
	Or die renowned by attempting it.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 18><ACT 2><SCENE 1><23%>
<RICHARD>	<23%>
	Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird,
	Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun:
	For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say;
	Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his.

</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 19><ACT 2><SCENE 1><23%>
<RICHARD>	<24%>
	Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount
	Our baleful news, and at each word's deliv'rance
	Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told,
	The words would add more anguish than the wounds.
	O valiant lord! the Duke of York is slain.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 20><ACT 2><SCENE 1><25%>
<RICHARD>	<25%>
	'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled:
	Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit,
	But ne'er till now his scandal of retire.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 21><ACT 2><SCENE 1><25%>
<RICHARD>	<25%>
	I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not:
	'Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak.
	But, in this troublous time what's to be done?
	Shall we go throw away our coats of steel,
	And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns,
	Numb'ring our Ave-Maries with our beads?
	Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
	Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?
	If for the last, say 'Ay,' and to it, lords.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 22><ACT 2><SCENE 1><26%>
<RICHARD>	<26%>
	Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak:
	Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day,
	That cries 'Retire,' if Warwick bid him stay.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 23><ACT 2><SCENE 1><26%>
<RICHARD>	<27%>
	Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,
	As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,
	I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 24><ACT 2><SCENE 2><29%>
<RICHARD>	<30%>
	Are you there, butcher? O! I cannot speak.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 25><ACT 2><SCENE 2><30%>
<RICHARD>	<30%>
	'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not?
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 26><ACT 2><SCENE 2><30%>
<RICHARD>	<30%>
	For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 27><ACT 2><SCENE 2><30%>
<RICHARD>	<31%>
	Northumberland, I hold thee reverently.
	Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain
	The execution of my big-swoln heart
	Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 28><ACT 2><SCENE 2><30%>
<RICHARD>	<31%>
	Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward,
	As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland;
	But ere sun-set I'll make thee curse the deed.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 29><ACT 2><SCENE 2><30%>
<RICHARD>	<31%>
	Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword.
	By him that made us all, I am resolv'd
	That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 30><ACT 2><SCENE 2><31%>
<RICHARD>	<31%>
	Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands;
	For well I wot thou hast thy mother's tongue.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 31><ACT 2><SCENE 2><31%>
<RICHARD>	<32%>
	Iron of Naples hid with English gilt,
	Whose father bears the title of a king,
	As if a channel should be call'd the sea,
	Sham'st thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught,
	To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart?
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 32><ACT 2><SCENE 3><33%>
<RICHARD>	<33%>
	Ah! Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself?
	Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,
	Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance;
	And in the very pangs of death he cried,
	Like to a dismal clangor heard from far,
	'Warwick, revenge! brother, revenge my death!'
	So, underneath the belly of their steeds,
	That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood,
	The noble gentleman gave up the ghost.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 33><ACT 2><SCENE 3><34%>
<RICHARD>	<34%>
	Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Warwick,
	Let me embrace thee in my weary arms:
	I, that did never weep, now melt with woe
	That winter should cut off our spring-time so.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 34><ACT 2><SCENE 4><34%>
<RICHARD>	<35%>
	Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone.
	Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York,
	And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge,
	Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 35><ACT 2><SCENE 4><34%>
<RICHARD>	<35%>
	Nay, Warwick, single out some other chase;
	For I myself will hunt this wolf to death.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 36><ACT 2><SCENE 6><40%>
<RICHARD>	<41%>
	A deadly groan, like life and death's departing.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 37><ACT 2><SCENE 6><40%>
<RICHARD>	<41%>
	Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford;
	Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch
	In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth,
	But set his murd'ring knife unto the root
	From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring,
	I mean our princely father, Duke of York.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 38><ACT 2><SCENE 6><41%>
<RICHARD>	<42%>
	O! would he did; and so perhaps he doth:
	'Tis but his policy to counterfeit,
	Because he would avoid such bitter taunts
	Which in the time of death he gave our father.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 39><ACT 2><SCENE 6><41%>
<RICHARD>	<42%>
	Clifford! ask mercy and obtain no grace.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 40><ACT 2><SCENE 6><41%>
<RICHARD>	<42%>
	Thou didst love York, and I am son to York.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 41><ACT 2><SCENE 6><41%>
<RICHARD>	<42%>
	What! not an oath? nay, then the world goes hard
	When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath.
	I know by that he's dead; and, by my soul,
	If this right hand would buy two hours' life,
	That I in all despite might rail at him,
	This hand should chop it off, and with the issuing blood
	Stifle the villain whose unstaunched thirst
	York and young Rutland could not satisfy.
</RICHARD>

<SPEECH 42><ACT 2><SCENE 6><42%>
<RICHARD>	<43%>
	Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester,
	For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous.
</RICHARD>

