Richard III Page #5

Ah, Lord Mayor.

Richard is not King Edward.

He is not lulling on a lewd

love-bed, but meditating...

...with two deep divines,

praying to enrich his watchful soul.

Happy were England, would this

virtuous man take on his grace...

...the sovereignty thereof.

God defend Richard should say no to us.

- I fear he will. Catesby?

- He wonders to what end...

...you have assembled such troops

of citizens to speak with him.

My lord, he fears

you mean no good to him.

By heaven, we come to him

in perfect love!

My Lord Protector?

Pray pardon us the interruption

of your devotions.

My lord, there needs no such apology.

I do suspect I have done some offence.

You have. Will it please you

to amend your fault?

Else wherefore breathe I

in a Christian land?

Know then, it is your fault that

you refuse the supreme seat...

...the throne majestical.

We heartily solicit you, take on the

kingly government of this your land...

...Not as Lord Protector,

but from blood to blood...

...Your right of birth,

your empery, your own!

Your love deserves my thanks.

But my desert, unmeritable,

shuns your high request.

First, if all obstacles were cut away...

...Yet so much is my poverty of spirit...

...So mighty and so many my defects...

...That I should rather

hide me from my greatness.

But, God be thanked,

there is no need of me.

The royal tree has left us royal fruit.

You say the Prince of Wales

is your brother's son.

So say we...

but born before his wedding day.

Then, good my lord,

take to your royal self...

...This proffered benefit of dignity!

- Good my Lord Protector!

- We entreat you...

(softly) Truly, the hearts

of men are full of fear.

I am unfit for state and majesty.

Then we will plant some other

on the throne!

I do beseech you, take it not amiss.

I cannot nor I will not yield to you.

Your brother's son

will never reign our king!

Gentlemen, come, I will entreat

no more! Gos wounds!

Oh, do not swear, my lord!

Call him again, my lord!

Accept the Crown!

Will you enforce me to a world of cares?

Call him again.

(Catesby) My lord! My Lord Buckingham!

I'm not made of stone.

Gentlemen, since you will buckle

fortune on my back...

...I must have patience...

...to endure the load.

But God doth know,

and you may partly see...

...How far I am...

...from the desire of this.

If you will outstrip death...

...go across the seas and live, dear

Richmond, from the reach of hell!

Go, my dear nephew,

from this slaughterhouse.

Long live King Richard!

(cheering)

(chanting) Richard, Richard,

Richard, Richard!

Brackenbury, how are my sons,

the princes?

Right well, your majesty.

By your patience,

I may not permit you to visit them.

The king has strictly charged

the contrary.

- The king?

- I mean, the Lord Protector.

The Lord protect him

from that kingly title!

I am their mother!

Who should keep me from them?

I am bound by oath...

...and therefore pardon me.

Go you to Richard...

and good angels guard you.

Stay yet.

Look back with me unto the Tower.

Pity, you ancient stones,

those tender princes...

...Whom envy has immured

within your walls...

...Rough cradle for such little pretty ones.

Rude, ragged nurse, use my babies well.

(ceremonial music)

(applause)

Now, Buckingham,

thus high by your advice...

...and your assistance

is King Richard seated.

But shall we wear

these glories for a day...

...Or shall they last

and we rejoice in them?

Still live they...

...and for ever let them last.

The princes live.

Think now what I would speak.

Say on, your majesty.

Why, Buckingham, I say I would be king.

Why, so you are!

The princes live.

Buckingham, you never used to be

so dull. Shall I be plain?

I wish the bastards dead...

...And I would have it suddenly performed.

What say you now?

Speak suddenly. Be brief.

Your majesty may do your pleasure.

Tut, tut!

You are all ice.

Your kindness freezes.

Say have I your consent

that they shall die?

(cheering on screen)

Give me some little breath,

some pause, your majesty...

...Before I positively speak in this.

High-reaching Buckingham

grows circumspect.

Has he held out so long

with me untired...

...And stops he now for breath?

Well!

Be it so.

Lord Stanley!

Your majesty.

Whas the news?

The Archbishop, as I hear...

...Has joined with Richmond

in France, your majesty.

Richmond aims to marry

young Elizabeth...

...My brother Edwars daughter...

...And, by that knot,

he hopes to gain my crown.

Richmond is your nephew.

Well...

...look to it.

- Your majesty.

- Catesby!

Rumour it abroad that Anne, my wife,

is very grievous sick.

Look how you dream.

I say again, give out that Anne,

my queen, is sick and like to die.

Tyrell.

I must be married now

to young Elizabeth...

...Or else my kingdom

stands on brittle glass.

Murder her brothers and then marry her.

Tyrell.

Dare you resolve to kill a friend of mine?

Sir, please you,

I'd rather kill two enemies.

There you have it. Two deep enemies.

Tyrell...

...I mean those bastards in the Tower.

Say it is done and I will love you for it.

It... is... done...

...your majesty.

Your majesty...

...I claim the earldom of Hereford,

which you promised I should possess.

Well, let that rest.

The Archbishop has fled to Richmond.

I hear the news.

What says your majesty

to my just request?

It was prophesied

that Richmond should be king.

A king, perhaps.

- Perhaps.

- Your promise for the earldom.

Riche-monde!

- Your majesty, I...

- Yes!

Whas o'clock?

I am thus bold to put your majesty

in mind of what you promised me.

But whas o'clock?

- On the stroke of ten.

- Then let it strike.

Why let it strike?

Because that, like a jack,

you keep the stroke...

...Between your begging

and my meditation.

I am not in the giving vein today.

Why then,

resolve me whether you will or no.

You trouble me! I am not in the vein!

(clock strikes)

Never yet one hour in his bed...

...Have I enjoyed

the golden dew of sleep...

...But have been awoken

by his timorous dreams.

Besides, he hates me...

...And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.

Let me think of Hastings and be gone.

(door slams)

Kind Tyrell...

...am I happy in your news?

It is done, your majesty.

(Richard) But did you see them dead...

...and buried?

I did, your majesty.

Gentle Tyrell.

Come to me, Tyrell, soon...

...at after supper...

...When you shall tell the story

of their death.

Meanwhile,

but think how I may do you good...

...And be inheritor of your desire.

The sons of Edward

sleep in Abraham's bosom...

And Anne...

...my wife, shall bid this world good night.

Uncertain way of gain...

...But I am in so far in blood

that sin will pluck on sin.

Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.

(sobs)

Your majesty, on the southern coast

there rides a powerful navy.

Is thought that Richmond

is its admiral.

Buckingham has fled

to welcome him ashore.

We must be brief

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