Section (Part 1)

Executive Director's Notes:

In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they are presented herein:

Barnardo. Who's there?

Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold

your selfe

Bar. Long liue the King

* * * * *

As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words or letters they had often packed into a"cliche"...this is the original meaning of the term cliche...and thus, being unwilling to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions that look very odd...such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u, above...and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner....

The answer is that they MAY have packed"liue"into a cliche at a time when they were out of"v"'s...possibly having used"vv"in place of some"w"'s, etc. This was a common practice of the day, as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend more on a wider selection of characters than they had to.

You will find a lot of these kinds of"errors"in this text, as I have mentioned in other times and places, many"scholars"have an extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a very high place in the"canon"of Shakespeare. My father read an Assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the purpose. To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available...in great detail...and determined from the various changes, that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous for signing his name with several different spellings.

So, please take this into account when reading the comments below made by our volunteer who prepared this file: you may see errors that are"not"errors....

So...with this caveat...we have NOT changed the canon errors, here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's The first Part of Henry the Sixt.

Michael S. Hart

Project Gutenberg

Executive Director

* * * * *

Scanner's Notes:

What this is and isn't. This was taken from a copy of

Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can come in

ASCII to the printed text.

The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling, punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the printed text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within brackets [] is what I have added. So if you don't like that you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a purer Shakespeare.

Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual differences between various copies of the first folio. So there may be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between this and other first folio editions. This is due to the printer's habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn't thrown away but incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the way it is. The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different First Folio editions'best pages.

David Reed

=====================================================================

The Tragedie of Richard the Third

with the Landing of Earle Richmond, and the Battell at Bosworth Field

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Richard Duke of Gloster, solus.

Now is the Winter of our Discontent,

Made glorious Summer by this Son of Yorke:

And all the clouds that lowr'd vpon our house

In the deepe bosome of the Ocean buried.

Now are our browes bound with Victorious Wreathes,

Our bruised armes hung vp for Monuments;

Our sterne Alarums chang'd to merry Meetings;

Our dreadfull Marches, to delightfull Measures.

Grim-visag'd Warre, hath smooth'd his wrinkled Front:

And now, in stead of mounting Barbed Steeds,

To fright the Soules of fearfull Aduersaries,

He capers nimbly in a Ladies Chamber,

To the lasciuious pleasing of a Lute.

But I, that am not shap'd for sportiue trickes,

Nor made to court an Amorous Looking-glasse:

I, that am Rudely stampt, and want loues Maiesty,

To strut before a wonton ambling Nymph:

I, that am curtail'd of this faire Proportion,

Cheated of Feature by dissembling Nature,

Deform'd, vn-finish'd, sent before my time

Into this breathing World, scarse halfe made vp,

And that so lamely and vnfashionable,

That dogges barke at me, as I halt by them.

Why I (in this weake piping time of Peace)

Haue no delight to passe away the time,

Vnlesse to see my Shadow in the Sunne,

And descant on mine owne Deformity.

And therefore, since I cannot proue a Louer,

To entertaine these faire well spoken dayes,

I am determined to proue a Villaine,

And hate the idle pleasures of these dayes.

Plots haue I laide, Inductions dangerous,

By drunken Prophesies, Libels, and Dreames,

To set my Brother Clarence and the King

In deadly hate, the one against the other:

And if King Edward be as true and iust,

As I am Subtle, False, and Treacherous,

This day should Clarence closely be mew'd vp:

About a Prophesie, which sayes that G,

Of Edwards heyres the murtherer shall be.

Diue thoughts downe to my soule, here Clarence comes.

Enter Clarence, and Brakenbury, guarded.

Brother, good day: What meanes this armed guard

That waites vpon your Grace?

Cla. His Maiesty tendring my persons safety,

Hath appointed this Conduct, to conuey me to th'Tower

Rich. Vpon what cause?

Cla. Because my name is George

Rich. Alacke my Lord, that fault is none of yours:

He should for that commit your Godfathers.

O belike, his Maiesty hath some intent,

That you should be new Christned in the Tower,

But what's the matter Clarence, may I know?

Cla. Yea Richard, when I know: but I protest

As yet I do not: But as I can learne,

He hearkens after Prophesies and Dreames,

And from the Crosse-row pluckes the letter G:

And sayes, a Wizard told him, that by G,

His issue disinherited should be.

And for my name of George begins with G,

It followes in his thought, that I am he.

The se (as I learne) and such like toyes as these,

Hath moou'd his Highnesse to commit me now

Rich. Why this it is, when men are rul'd by Women:

'Tis not the King that sends you to the Tower,

My Lady Grey his Wife, Clarence'tis shee,

That tempts him to this harsh Extremity.

Was it not shee, and that good man of Worship,

Anthony Woodeuile her Brother there,

That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower?

From whence this present day he is deliuered?

We are not safe Clarence, we are not safe

Cla. By heauen, I thinke there is no man secure

But the Queenes Kindred, and night-walking Her alds,

That trudge betwixt the King, and Mistris Shore.

Heard you not what an humble Suppliant

Lord Hastings was, for her deliuery?

Rich. Humbly complaining to her Deitie,

Got my Lord Chamberlaine his libertie.

Ile tell you what, I thinke it is our way,

If we will keepe in fauour with the King,

To be her men, and we are her Liuery.

The iealous ore-worne Widdow, and her selfe,

Since that our Brother dub'd them Gentlewomen,

Are mighty Gossips in our Monarchy

Bra. I beseech your Graces both to pardon me,

His Maiesty hath straightly giuen in charge,

That no man shall haue priuate Conference

(Of what degree soeuer) with your Brother

Rich. Euen so, and please your Worship Brakenbury,

You may partake of any thing we say:

We speake no Treason man; We say the King

Is wise and vertuous, and his Noble Queene

We ll strooke in yeares, faire, and not iealious.

We say, that Shores Wife hath a pretty Foot,

A cherry Lip, a bonny Eye, a passing pleasing tongue:

And that the Queenes Kindred are made gentle Folkes.

How say you sir? can you deny all this?

Bra. With this (my Lord) my selfe haue nought to

doo

Rich. Naught to do with Mistris Shore?

I tell thee Fellow, he that doth naught with her

(Excepting one) were best to do it secretly alone

Bra. What one, my Lord?

Rich. Her Husband Knaue, would'st thou betray me?

Bra. I do beseech your Grace

To pardon me, and withall forbeare

Your Conference with the Noble Duke

Cla. We know thy charge Brakenbury, and wil obey

Rich. We are the Queenes abiects, and must obey.

Brother farewell, I will vnto the King,

And whatsoe're you will imploy me in,

We re it to call King Edwards Widdow, Sister,

I will performe it to infranchise you.

Meane time, this deepe disgrace in Brotherhood,

Touches me deeper then you can imagine

Cla. I know it pleaseth neither of vs well

Rich. We ll, your imprisonment shall not be long,

I will deliuer you, or else lye for you:

Meane time, haue patience

Cla. I must perforce: Farewell.

Exit Clar[ence].

Rich. Go treade the path that thou shalt ne're return:

Simple plaine Clarence, I do loue thee so,

That I will shortly send thy Soule to Heauen,

If Heauen will take the present at our hands.

But who comes heere? the new deliuered Hastings?

Enter Lord Hastings.

Hast. Good time of day vnto my gracious Lord

Rich. As much vnto my good Lord Chamberlaine:

We ll are you welcome to this open Ayre,

How hath your Lordship brook'd imprisonment?

Hast. With patience (Noble Lord) as prisoners must:

But I shall liue (my Lord) to giue them thankes

That were the cause of my imprisonment

Rich. No doubt, no doubt, and so shall Clarence too,

For they that were your Enemies, are his,

And haue preuail'd as much on him, as you,

Hast. More pitty, that the Eagles should be mew'd,

Whiles Kites and Buzards play at liberty

Rich. What newes abroad?

Hast. No newes so bad abroad, as this at home:

The King is sickly, weake, and melancholly,

And his Physitians feare him mightily

Rich. Now by S[aint]. Iohn, that Newes is bad indeed.

O he hath kept an euill Diet long,

And ouer-much consum'd his Royall Person:

'Tis very greeuous to be thought vpon.

Where is he, in his bed?

Hast. He is

Rich. Go you before, and I will follow you.

Exit Hastings.

He cannot liue I hope, and must not dye,

Till George be pack'd with post-horse vp to Heauen.

Ile in to vrge his hatred more to Clarence,

With Lyes well steel'd with weighty Arguments,

And if I faile not in my deepe intent,

Clarence hath not another day to liue:

Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,

And leaue the world for me to bussle in.

For then, Ile marry Warwickes yongest daughter.

What though I kill'd her Husband, and her Father,

The readiest way to make the We nch amends,

Is to become her Husband, and her Father:

The which will I, not all so much for loue,

As for another secret close intent,

By marrying her, which I must reach vnto.

But yet I run before my horse to Market:

Clarence still breathes, Edward still liues and raignes,

When they are gone, then must I count my gaines.

Exit

Scena Secunda.

Enter the Coarse of Henrie the sixt with Halberds to guard it, Lady Anne being the Mourner.

Anne. Set downe, set downe your honourable load,

If Honor may be shrowded in a Her se;

Whil'st I a-while obsequiously lament

Th'vntimely fall of Vertuous Lancaster.

Poore key-cold Figure of a holy King,

Pale Ashes of the House of Lancaster;

Thou bloodlesse Remnant of that Royall Blood,

Be it lawfull that I inuocate thy Ghost,

To heare the Lamentations of poore Anne,

Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtred Sonne,

Stab'd by the selfesame hand that made these wounds.

Loe, in these windowes that let forth thy life,

I powre the helplesse Balme of my poore eyes.

O cursed be the hand that made these holes:

Cursed the Heart, that had the heart to do it:

Cursed the Blood, that let this blood from hence:

More direfull hap betide that hated Wretch

That makes vs wretched by the death of thee,

Then I can wish to Wolues, to Spiders, Toades,

Or any creeping venom'd thing that liues.

If euer he haue Childe, Abortiue be it,

Prodigeous, and vntimely brought to light,

Whose vgly and vnnaturall Aspect

May fright the hopefull Mother at the view,

And that be Heyre to his vnhappinesse.

If euer he haue Wife, let her be made

More miserable by the death of him,

Then I am made by my young Lord, and thee.

Come now towards Chertsey with your holy Lode,

Taken from Paules, to be interred there.

And still as you are weary of this waight,

Rest you, whiles I lament King Henries Coarse.

Enter Richard Duke of Gloster.

Rich. Stay you that beare the Coarse, & set it down

An. What blacke Magitian coniures vp this Fiend,

To stop deuoted charitable deeds?

Rich. Villaines set downe the Coarse, or by S[aint]. Paul,

Ile make a Coarse of him that disobeyes

Gen. My Lord stand backe, and let the Coffin passe

Rich. Vnmanner'd Dogge,

Stand'st thou when I commaund:

Aduance thy Halbert higher then my brest,

Or by S[aint]. Paul Ile strike thee to my Foote,

And spurne vpon thee Begger for thy boldnesse

Anne. What do you tremble? are you all affraid?

Alas, I blame you not, for you are Mortall,

And Mortall eyes cannot endure the Diuell.

Auant thou dreadfull minister of Hell;

Thou had'st but power ouer his Mortall body,

His Soule thou canst not haue: The refore be gone

Rich. Sweet Saint, for Charity, be not so curst

An. Foule Diuell,

For Gods sake hence, and trouble vs not,

For thou hast made the happy earth thy Hell:

Fill'd it with cursing cries, and deepe exclaimes:

If thou delight to view thy heynous deeds,

Behold this patterne of thy Butcheries.

Oh Gentlemen, see, see dead Henries wounds,

Open their congeal'd mouthes, and bleed afresh.

Blush, blush, thou lumpe of fowle Deformitie:

For'tis thy presence that exhales this blood

From cold and empty Veines where no blood dwels.