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Your Highness.

Good night, Your Majesty.

Good night, son.

Father.

Shh!

Your Majesty.

Hut!

Mother.

Come live with me
and be my love

And we will all the pleasures prove

That hills and valleys, dales and fields

And all the craggy mountains yield

Come live with me

And be my love

There will I make you a bed of roses

With a thousand fragrant posies

If these pleasures may you move

Live with me and be my love

Come live with me

And be my love

The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing

Then live with me and be my love

Come live with me

And be my love

Come live with me and be my love

And we will all the pleasures prove

A belt of straw and ivy buds

With coral clasps and amber studs

Come live with me

And be my love

There will I make you a bed of roses

With a thousand fragrant posies

And if these pleasures may you move

Then live with me and be my love

Come live with me

And be my love

If that the world and love were young

And truth in every shepherd's tongue

These pretty pleasures might me move

To live with you

And be your love

Come live with me

And be my love

Now is the winter of our discontent

made glorious summer

by this sun of York.

And all the clouds that lowered
upon our house

in the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

Now all our brows bound
with victorious wreaths!

Our bruised arms hung up for monuments,

our stern alarums changed
to merry meetings,

our dreadful marches
to delightful measures.

Grim-visaged war has smoothed
his wrinkled front.

And now,
instead of mounting barbed steeds

to fright the souls
of fearful adversaries, he...

Capers nimbly in a lady's chamber

to the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks

nor made to court
an amorous looking glass.

I, that am rudely stamped...

Deformed...

Unfinished...

Sent before my time
into this breathing world,

scarce half made up,

and that so lamely and unfashionable

that dogs bark at me as I halt by them.

Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,

have no delight to pass away the time,

unless to spy my shadow in the sun

and descant on mine own deformity.

Why, I can smile,

and murder while I smile,

wet my cheeks with artificial tears

and frame my face to all occasions.

And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,

I am determined to prove a villain

and hate the idle pleasures of these days.

Plots have I laid

to set my brothers,
Clarence and King Edward,

in deadly hate, the one against the other.

Clarence!

Brother.

What means this guard?

His Majesty, tendering my person's safety,

has appointed this conduct
to convey me to the Tower.

What is the matter, Clarence?

May I know?

Yes, Richard, when I know,
but I must protest,

as yet, I do not.

Why this it is,
when men are ruled by women.

It's not the King
who sends you to the tower.

- Elizabeth is Queen, Clarence, it's she.
- Oh.

We're not safe, brother.

We are not safe.

I beseech Your Lordships
both to pardon me.

His Majesty has strictly given me charge

that no man shall have private conference,

of what degree soever, with your brother.

We speak no treason, Brackenbury.

We say the King is wise and virtuous

and his Queen...
Well-struck in years.

I beseech you both to pardon me.

We know your charge, Brackenbury,
and we'll obey.

We are the Queen's subjects and must obey.

Brother, farewell.

I will unto the King.

Meanwhile, this deep
disgrace in brotherhood

touches me deeper than you can imagine.

Well, I know it pleases neither of us well.

Well, your imprisonment shall not be long.

I will deliver you or else lie for you.

Meanwhile, have patience.

Well, I must perforce.

- Farewell.
- Mmm.

Simple, plain Clarence.

I do love you so that I shall
shortly send your soul to heaven,

if heaven will take the present
from my hands.

And now, I'll marry.

What though I killed her husband
and his father.

Oh, 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.

If ever he have child, abortive be it.

If ever he have wife,

let her be made more miserable
by the life of him

than I am made
by my young husband's death.

What black magician conjures up this fiend

to stop devoted charitable deeds?

Sweet saint, for charity be not so cursed.

Foul devil,

for God's sake, hence and trouble me not,

for you have made this happy earth my hell!

If you delight to see your heinous deed,

behold the pattern of your butchery.

Lady,

you know no rules of charity.

Villain, you know no law of God nor man.

Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,

of this supposed crime to give me leave,

by circumstance, but to acquit myself.

Did you not kill my husband?

I grant you, yes.

You grant me, hedgehog?

Then God grant me, too,

you may be damned for that wicked deed.

Gentle Lady Anne...

Oh, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous.

The fitter for the King of heaven
who has him.

And you unfit for anyplace but hell.

Yes, one place else,
if you will hear me name it.

Some dungeon.

Your bedchamber.

Let's leave this keen encounter of our wits.

Your beauty,
which did haunt me in my sleep,

could make me undertake
the death of all the world,

so I might live one hour
in your sweet bosom.

If I thought that, I tell you, homicide,

I would rend that beauty from my cheeks.

These eyes could not endure
that beauty's wreck.

As all the world is cheered by the sun,
so I by that, it is my day,

my life.

He who bereft you, Lady, of your husband,

did it to help you to a better husband.

His better does not breathe upon the earth.

He lives who loves you better than he could.

- Where is he?
- Here.

Why do you spit at me?

Would it were mortal poison, for your sake.

Never came poison from so sweet a place.

Never hung poison on a fouler toad.

Out of my sight!

You do infect my eyes!

Those eyes of yours

from mine have drawn salted tears.

Yet when I heard the story
of my father's death

and all the standers-by had wet
their cheeks like trees bedashed with rain,

in that sad time,
my manly eyes did scorn a humble tear,

and what that sorrow
could not thence exhale,

your beauty has.

And made them blind with weeping.

Teach not your lip such scorn,

for it was made for kissing, Lady,

and not for such contempt.

If your revengeful heart cannot forgive,

I humbly beg for death

upon my knee.

Now, do not pause.

It was I who killed your husband,

but it was your heavenly face
which set me on.

Take up the blade again,

or take up me.

I will not be your executioner.

Then, bid me kill myself, and I will do it.

I have already.

That was in your rage. Speak it again.

I would I knew your heart, I fear it is false.

Then never was man true.

Put down the blade.

But shall I live in hope?

All men I hope live so.

Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

To take is not to give.

May I, with all expedient duty, see you?

And much it joys me, too,

to see you are become so penitent.

Bid me farewell.

It is more than you deserve,

but since you teach me how to flatter you,

imagine I have said farewell already.

Was ever a woman in this humor wooed?

Was ever a woman in this humor won?

I'll have her,

but I'll not keep her long. Eh?

I, who killed her husband and his father,

to take her in her heart's extremest hate,

with curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,

and then to win her.

All the world to nothing! Ha!

Upon my life she finds, although I cannot,

myself to be a marvelous, proper man.

I'll entertain a score or two of tailors

to study fashions to adorn my body.

And then return lamenting to my love.

Shine out, fair sun, till I've bought a glass

that I may see my shadow as I pass!

Catesby.

Clarence still breathes.

Edward still lives and reigns.

When they are gone,

then shall I count my gains.

The King is sickly,
weak, and melancholy.

Well, have patience, sister.

There's no doubt His Majesty
will soon recover his accustomed health.

But his physicians
fear for him mightily.

If he were dead, what would become of me?

The heavens have blessed you
with two goodly sons

to be your comforters when he's gone.

Oh, but they're young,

and their minority is put
into the trust of Richard Gloucester.

A man who loves not me,
nor you, my brother.

Is it confirmed he will be Lord Protector?

Yeah, if the King miscarry.

My love, what danger can befall to you

so long as Edward is your constant friend

and a sovereign whom Richard must obey?

Yes, and shall obey and love you, too.

Ratcliffe?

What's his name?

His name is Tyrell, sir.

I partly know the man.

Is your name Tyrell?

James Tyrell,

and your most obedient servant.

Are you indeed?

Prove me, my gracious lord.

Oh, I have passed a miserable night.

I thought that I had broken from the Tower

and was embarked to cross to Burgundy.

And in my company, my brother Richard,

who from my cabin
tempted me to walk upon the hatches.

As we paced along,

I thought that Richard stumbled
and, in falling,

struck me overboard

into the tumbling billows of the main.

Oh Lord,
I thought what pain it was to drown.

What dreadful noise of water in my ears.

What sights of ugly death within my eyes.

I thought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks,

a thousand men that fishes gnawed upon,

wedges of gold, great anchors,
heaps of pearl,

inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,

all scattered in the bottom of the sea.

Some lay in dead men's skulls,

and in the holes
where eyes did once inhabit,

there were crept, as it were in scorn of eyes,

reflecting gems

that wooed the slimy bottom of the deep

and mocked the dead bones
that lay scattered by.

My dream was lengthened after life.

Oh, then began the tempest to my soul.

With that, I thought a legion of foul fiends

environed me
and howled in my ears such hideous cries

that, with the very noise, I trembling waked,

and for a season after, could not believe

but that I was in hell.

Such terrible impression made my dream.

Oi! Oi! Off!

Now then, my hardy,
stout-resolved mates...

Ah.

Are you now going to dispatch this thing?

We are, my lord, but need a warrant
to be admitted to where he is.

Well thought upon.

I have it here about me.

Be sudden in the execution,
for Clarence is well-spoken

and perhaps may move your hearts to pity.

We go to use our hands
and not our tongues.

I like you lads. About your business straight.

Your eyes drop millstones,
when fools' eyes fall tears.

Clarence has not another day to live,

which done,
God taking Edward to his mercy

and leave the world for me to bustle in.

God make Your Majesty joyful
as you have been.

- Prime Minister.
- Good time of day unto Your Majesty.

- Lord Stanley.
- Your Majesty.

Saw you the King today?

But now the Duke of Buckingham and I
are come from visiting His Majesty.

Did you confer with him?

Ma'am, we did.

He desires to make reconciliation

between Richard of Gloucester
and your brother here.

Ah, would all were well.
But that will never be.

I fear our happiness is at the height.

Who is it that complains unto the King,

that I, in truth, am stern and love them not?

Because I cannot flatter and look fair,

smile in men's faces,
smooth, deceive, and cog,

I must be held a rancorous enemy.

Cannot a plain man live and think no harm?

To whom in all this presence speaks,
Your Grace?

To you, who have neither honesty nor grace.

When have I injured you?
When done you wrong?

Come, come, my brother Gloucester.
We know your meaning.

The world is grown so bad
that wrens make prey

where eagles dare not perch.

You envy my advancement and my family,

God grant we never may have need of you.

Meantime, God grants
that I have need of you.

My brother is imprisoned by your means.

Richard! You do me shameful injury!

What would you, fellow,
at the Tower?

How came you hither?

I would speak with Clarence,
and I came hither on my legs.

I never did incense His Majesty
against your brother Clarence,

but have been an earnest advocate
to plead for him.

You may deny that you...

She may, my lord.

She may, Lord Rivers,
but who knows not so?

She may do more, sir, than denying that.

She may help you to many
great promotions what may she not.

My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long

borne your blunt upbraidings
and bitter scoffs!

I had rather be a country serving maid

than a great queen in this condition
to be so baited, scorned, and stormed at.

By heaven, I will acquaint His Majesty.

Tell him and spare not.

Look, what I have said, I will avouch it
in the presence of the King.

Before you were Queen,

yes, or your husband King,

I was a packhorse in his great affairs.

In all that time, you and your brother here

were sympathetic to the enemy.

Let me put in your mind, if you forget,

what you have been before
and what you are.

Indeed what I have been and what I am.

A bottled spider.

My dear brother-in-law,

in those busy days when now you try
to prove us enemies,

we followed then Edward, our lawful king.

So should she you if you should be her king.

If I should be?

I'd rather be a peddler.

I'm too childish, foolish for this world.

You poisonous, bunch-backed toad!

Have done. Have done.

Small joy have I
in being this country's queen.

Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog.

Look, when he fawns, he bites.

Your Majesty,
His Majesty has called for you.

What did she say, my Lord of Buckingham?

Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord.

I cannot blame her,

by God's Holy Mother.

A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion

to pray for those
who have done wrong to you.

What? Are you afraid?

Not to kill him... Having a warrant for it,

but to be damned for killing him,

from which no warrant can defend me.

I thought you'd been resolute.

So I am. Let him live.

I'll back to Richard of Gloucester
and tell him so.

No. Wait a little.

Some certain dregs of conscience
are yet within me.

Remember our reward
when the deed's done.

He dies.

I forgot the reward.

And where's your conscience now?

In the Duke of Gloucester's purse.

In God's name.

- What are you?
- A man as you are.

But not as I am, royal.

Nor you, as we are, loyal.

Who has sent you to me

- and why have you come?
- To... To...

Murder me.

Aye.

But how, my friends, have I offended you?

Offended us you have not, but King Edward.

I will send you to my brother Richard

who shall reward you better for my life

than will the King for tidings of my death.

You are deceived.

Your brother Richard hates you.

Oh, you are wrong.
He loves me, and he holds me dear.

Go you to him. Tell him, and he will weep.

Aye, millstones! As he lessoned us to weep.

Oh, do not slander him, for he is kind.

Right, as snow in harvest!

Richard! No!

Mmm-hmm.

Right, so now we have done
a good day's work.

Now, friends, continue this united league.

Rivers and Hastings,
take each other's hands.

Hastings,
my soul is purged from grudging hate.

Your Majesty, I truly swear the like.

Elizabeth, you are not exempt in this.

Wife, greet Lord Hastings.

Let him kiss your hand.

There, Hastings.

Now, princely Buckingham.

Make me happy in this unity.

Whenever Buckingham
does turn his hate upon Your Majesty,

God punish me with hate
from those where I expect most love.

When I most need to employ a friend

and most assured that he is a friend...

Richard!

Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile.

Good morrow to my sovereign King.

- Now, Richard...
- And Queen.

I have done a good day's work.

Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate.

It's death to me to be at enmity.

I hate it and desire all good men's love.

First, ma'am, I do entreat true peace of you,

which I shall purchase
with my duteous service.

Of you, my noble, dear Lord Buckingham...

If ever any grudge were lodged between us.

Of you, Lord Hastings.

Of you, dear Rivers,

who, all without desert, has frowned on me.

Indeed, of all.

I do not know that Englishman alive

with whom my soul is any jot at odds

more than the infant that is born tonight.

I thank my God for my humility.

I wish to God all strifes were settled so.

My sovereign lord,

I do beseech Your Majesty
to take your brother Clarence to your grace.

Why, ma'am, have I offered love for this?

Who knows not
that the gentle Duke is dead?

Who knows not he is dead?

Who knows he is?

Is Clarence dead?

The order was reversed!

But he, poor man, by your first order died,

and that a winged mercury did bear.

Some tardy cripple bore the countermand.

Oh, God,

I fear thy justice will take hold of me

and mine, and mine, and yours for this.

Rivers, help me to my bed.

Oh, poor Clarence!

This is the fruits of rashness.

Marked you not, Hastings,

how that the guilty brother
of the Queen looked pale

when he did hear of Clarence's death?

God will revenge it.

Oh, Clarence.

Clarence, my unhappy son.

This news is bad indeed.

What, is he in his bed?

He is. Oh, he has overused
his royal person much.

What means this scene of rude impatience?

Edward, my lord, your son,

our king is dead.

Why grow the branches
now the root is withered?

Why wither not the leaves,
the sap being gone?

Alas! I am the mother of these griefs.

On me pour all your tears.

I am your sorrow's nurse.

Elizabeth, have comfort.

We all of us have cause
to wail the dimming of our shining star.

Though we have spent
our harvest of this king,

we are to reap the harvest of his son.

Sister, think you like a careful mother

of the Prince of Wales, your son.

Send straight for him. Let him be crowned.

In him, your comfort lies.

Meseemeth good that,
with some little train,

the Prince be brought to London
to be crowned.

Why "with some little train,"
My Lord of Buckingham?

Lest by a multitude, dear sir,

the new-healed wound
of civil war break out.

I hope the King made peace with all of us.

And the compact is firm and true in me.

And so in me. And so, I think, in all.

Therefore, I say, with noble Buckingham,

it's fitting that so few
should meet the Prince.

Hmm.

- Prime Minister?
- And so say I.

Then be it so.

Two mirrors of my husband's likeness

are cracked in pieces by malignant death.

And I, for comfort, have but one false glass

that grieves me
when I see my shame in him.

Ma'am.

Mother, I do humbly crave your blessing.

God comfort you
and put meekness in your breast,

love, charity, obedience and true duty!

Amen.

And make me die a good old man.

That's the butt-end of a mother's blessing.

I marvel that Her Grace did leave it out.

My Lord Protector.

My Lord Protector,
whoever journeys to the Prince,

for God's sake, let not us two stay at home.

And let us part Earl Rivers from the Prince.

My other self.

I long with all my heart
to see the Prince of Wales.

I hope he is much grown
since last I saw him.

They say my uncle Richard grew so fast

that he could gnaw a crust at two-hours old.

Oh, go to, you parlous boy,

you are too shrewd.

Elizabeth, be not angry with your son.

Pitchers have ears.

Lord Stanley.

Richmond.

What news?

Such news that grieves me to report.

What is your news?

Your brother Rivers is murdered.

By whom?

Richmond?

Richard and Buckingham.

I see the ruin of my family.

Welcome, dear nephew.

Welcome to your capital.

I wanted more uncles here to welcome me.

Those uncles who you want
were dangerous.

Your Highness attended
to their sugared words

and looked not on the poison of their hearts.

God keep you from them
and from such false friends.

God keep me from false friends?
But they were none.

The Prime Minister Lord Hastings
comes to greet you.

- Hastings.
- Uncle Richard!

Catesby, is it not an easy matter
to make Lord Hastings of our mind

for the installment of this noble Duke

in the seat royal of our famous land?

He, for the late King's sake,
so loves the Prince

that he will not do anything against him.

What think you, then,
of Lord Stanley

and the Archbishop?

They will do, all in all, as Hastings does.

Call them tomorrow early,
to determine of the coronation.

And as it were far off,
sound out Lord Hastings

and give us notice of his inclination.

Commend me to Hastings.

Tell him, Catesby, that Rivers is let blood.

- Uncle!
- Oh! Oof!

What would you have, my little lord?

Because I am little like an ape,

I think that you should
bear me on your shoulders.

- Uncle Richard?
- Hmm?

Stanley.

Where shall we stay until our coronation?

If I may counsel you, some day or two

for your best health and recreation,

Your Highness shall repose you
at the Tower.

I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower.

Why? What should you fear?

My uncle Clarence's angry ghost.

Oh.

My grandma told me
he was murdered there.

I fear no uncles dead.

Nor none who live, I hope.

So wise, so young, they say,
do never live long.

Well, let them rest.

My Lord Protector, what shall we do

if we perceive Hastings
will not yield to our plans?

Chop off his head.

Something we shall determine.

And, look, when I am king...

Claim you of me the Earldom of Hereford

and all the movables whereof
the King, my brother, was possessed.

I'll claim that promise of your royal hand.

And look to have it yielded
with all kindness.

Come, let's to supper.

And then?

My uncle dreamt tonight

that the boar had shown his tusks.

Therefore he sends to know
if you will shun the danger

that his soul does fear.

Return to Lord Stanley.

Tell him his fears are shallow,
wanting substance.

As for his dreams, I wonder he's so foolish.

Morning, Catesby.

Tell your uncle I shall see him at
the meeting

where he shall see "the boar"
will use us kindly.

Catesby, what news in this,
our tottering state?

It is a reeling world indeed, sir.

And, I believe, will never stand upright
till Richard wear the garland of the state.

How wear the garland?

- Do you mean the crown?
- Yes, my lord.

I'll have this crown of mine
cut from my shoulders

before I see the crown so foul misplaced.

- Hastings.
- Where's your boar-spear, Lord Stanley?

- Hastings...
- Catesby,

before a fortnight makes me older,

I'll send some packing
that yet think not on it.

It is a vile thing to die

when men are unprepared
and look not for it.

- Archbishop, you're early stirring.
- I'm glad to see you, Prime Minister.

What, talking with a priest, Hastings?

Your friend Rivers, he needed a priest.

- What is it o'clock?
- On the stroke of two.

Now, gentlemen, the cause why we are
met is to determine of the coronation.

Oh, speak. When is the royal day?

Are all things ready?

They are.

Who knows the Lord Protector's
mind in this?

Your Lordship, we think,
should soonest know his mind.

We know each other's faces.

For our hearts, he knows
no more of mine than I of yours.

Or I of his, my lord, than you of mine.

Hastings, you and he are near in love.

I have not sounded him,

but you, my noble lords,
may name the time,

and on the Duke's behalf, I'll give my voice.

Good day to you all.
Oh, I've been long a sleeper.

Had you not come upon your cue, my lord,

William Lord Hastings
had pronounced your part.

Then, my Lord Hastings,
no man might be bolder.

He knows me well and loves me well.

I pray you all...

Tell me what they deserve
who do conspire my death.

And have prevailed upon my body
with their damned witchcraft.

I'll say, my lord, they have deserved death.

Let be your eyes the witness of their evil.

See how I am bewitched.

Behold.

My arm is like a blasted sapling,

withered up

by Queen Elizabeth, that monstrous witch.

If she has done this deed, my noble lord...

If?

You, protector of this damned Elizabeth.

Talk you to me of "ifs"?

You are a traitor.

Off with his head!

Now, by Saint Paul I swear
I will not dine until I see the same!

The rest that love me, rise and follow me!

The Duke would be at dinner

and longs to see your head.

So dear, I loved the man

that I must weep.

Would you imagine that
the subtle traitor had plotted

in the Parliament to murder me?

And the Lord Protector?

Had he done so?

Lord Mayor, the civil peace
enforced us to this execution.

Now he deserved his death.

And do not doubt but that I shall acquaint
my duteous city colleagues

with all your just proceedings in this cause.

Buckingham, go after to the council house.

Infer the bastardy of Edward's children.

Moreover, urge Edward's hateful lechery

which stretched unto
their servants, daughters, wives.

Doubt not, my lord, I'll play the orator
as if the golden fee for which I plead

were for myself.

Catesby.

Give order that no manner
of person have any time recourse

unto the princes.

When scarce the blood
was well-washed from his hands

which issued from my other, angel husband.

Oh, when I say I looked on Richard's face,
this was my wish.

"Be you," I said, "accursed.

"And when you wed,
let sorrow haunt your bed."

Within so small a time,

my woman's heart

grossly grew captive to his honey words,

and proved subject to my own soul's curse.

Buckingham, what say the citizens?

Did you infer the bastardy
of Edward's children?

I did.

The insatiate greediness of his desire,
his tyranny for trifles, his own bastardy.

Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace,
your bounty, virtue,

fair humility.

And when my oratory drew to an end,

I bade those who did love
their country's good

cry, "God save King Richard,
England's royal king!"

- And did they so?
- No.

- So God help me, they spoke not a word.
- Bah!

What tongue-less blocks are they!
Would they not speak?

The Lord Mayor
and his colleagues have arrived.

Pretend some fear.

Be not easily won by our requests.

And look, you,
put a prayer book in your hand.

Play the maid's part.
Still answer no and take it.

- Ratcliffe.
- No doubt we'll bring it to a happy issue.

You shall see what I can do.

Catesby.

He does entreat you, my Lord Buckingham,
to visit him tomorrow or next day.

He is within,
with two right reverend priests.

Tell him myself, the Mayor,

and these gentlemen have come
to have some conference with him.

I'll tell him what you say, my lord.

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 offense.
- 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.

Refuse not, Gloucester, this proffered love!

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.
God's wounds!

Oh, do not swear, my Lord of Buckingham!

Call him again, my lord. Accept the crown.

Will you enforce me to a world of cares?

Call him again.

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!

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.

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 forever 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?

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.

What's the news?

The Archbishop, as I hear,

has joined with Richmond in France,
Your Majesty.

Richmond aims to marry young Elizabeth,

my brother Edward's daughter,

and by that knot,
he hopes to gain my crown.

Richmond is your nephew.

Well... Look to it.

- Your Majesty.
- Catesby!

Rumor 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?

As I remember, it was prophesied
that Richmond should be king.

A king. Perhaps. Perhaps.

- Your promise for the earldom.
- Riche monde.

- Your Majesty, I...
- Yes. What's o'clock?

I am thus bold to put Your Majesty
in mind of what you promised me.

Well, but what's o'clock?

- Upon 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!

Never yet one hour in his bed
have I enjoyed the golden dew of sleep,

but have been woken
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.

Kind Tyrell.

Am I happy in your news?

It is done, Your Majesty.

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.

- Your Majesty!
- Ratcliffe.

Upon the southern coast,
there rides a powerful navy.

It's thought that Richmond is its admiral.

Buckingham has fled
to welcome him ashore.

We must be brief
when traitors brave the field.

Are you my son?

Yes, I thank God, my father, and yourself.

You toad!

Where are the princes?

And your wife?

Mother, I have a touch of your condition

that cannot brook the accent of reproof.

- Oh, let me speak!
- Be brief, dear Mother, for I am in haste.

- A grievous burden was your birth to me.
- And came I not, at last, to comfort you?

You came on earth
to make the earth my hell.

Tetchy and wayward was your infancy,

your schooldays frightful,
desperate, wild and furious.

Your prime of manhood daring,
bold and adventurous.

Your age confirmed, proud,
subtle, sly and bloody.

What comfortable hour can you name
that ever graced me with your company?

If I be so disgracious...

Oh, hear me a little,
for I shall never speak to you again.

So?

To war take with you
my most grievous curse.

My prayers shall on Richmond's party fight.

Bloody you are, bloody will be your end.

Shame serves your life
and will your death attend.

I leave for France.

Be not tongue-tied.

You are a dream of what you were,
a breath, a queen in jest.

Where is your husband now?
Where is your brother?

Where are your two sons? Wherein joy?

Who sues and kneels and says,
"God save the Queen"?

Where are the bended peers
that flatter you?

Where be the thronging troops
that followed you?

Teach me how to curse my enemy!

Forbear to sleep the nights
and fast the days.

Think that your babes
were sweeter than they were,

and he that slew them, fouler than he is!

Tell me, you villain slave,

where are my children?

Where is my brother Rivers
and your brother Clarence?

Where is Lord Hastings?

Elizabeth!

I must talk a word with you.

I've no more sons of the royal blood
for you to slaughter.

You have a daughter...

Called Elizabeth.

Must she die for this?

Oh, let her live.

- Her life is safest only in her birth.
- And only in that safety died her brothers.

You speak as if that I had slain the princes.

No doubt the murderous knife
was dull and blunt

till it was sharpened
on your stone-hard heart

to revel in the entrails of my lambs.

Ma'am, I intend more good to you and yours

than ever you or yours by me were harmed.

Tell me what state, what dignity,

what honor can you bestow
on any child of mine?

Even all I have...

Yes, and myself and all
will I withal endow a child of yours.

Be brief, lest that the process
of your kindness

last longer telling than your kindness date.

Know then, that with my soul
I love your daughter

and do intend to make her
Queen of England.

You! What!

You?

- What think you of it?
- How can you woo her?

Now that would I learn of you.

- And will you learn of me?
- Madam, with all my heart.

Send to her, by the man
who slew her brothers,

a pair of bleeding hearts,
then will she weep.

If this inducement move her not,
send her a letter of your noble deeds.

Tell her you made away
her uncle Clarence, her uncle Rivers.

Yes, and for her sake,

made quick conveyance
with her good aunt Anne.

You mock me, madam. This is not
the way to win your daughter.

There is no other way, unless you
could put on some other shape

and not be Richard who's done all this.

Say, that I did all this for love of her.

Well, then, she cannot choose but hate you.

What is done cannot be now amended.

Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes.

If I did take the kingdom from your sons,

to make amends,
I'll give it to your daughter.

Again you shall be mother of a king.

What! We have many goodly days to see.

The liquid drops of tears that you have shed

shall come again,
transformed to orient pearl.

Go then, my mother. To your daughter, go.

Make bold her bashful years
with your experience.

Acquaint the Princess with the sweet,
silent hours of marriage joys.

And when these troops of mine
have chastised the petty rebel

Richmond and dull-brained Buckingham,

bound with triumphant garlands will I come

and lead your daughter
to a conqueror's bed.

What were I best to say?

Say, she shall be a high and mighty queen.

To wail the title as her mother does?

Say, I will love her everlastingly.

But how long fairly shall her sweet life last?

As long as heaven and nature lengthens it.

As long as hell and Richard like of it!

Your reasons are too shallow and too quick.

Oh, no! My reasons are too deep and dead.

Too deep and dead,
my infants, in their graves.

Harp not on that string, madam.
That is past.

Harp on it still shall I till heart strings break!

I know that Richmond aims
to wed Elizabeth.

In her consists my happiness, and yours.

Without her, follows to myself and you,

herself, the land, and many a Christian soul,

death, desolation, ruin and decay.

It cannot be avoided but by this.

Be the attorney of my love to her.

Plead what I will be...

Not what I've been.

Shall I be tempted by the devil thus?

Yes, if the devil tempt you to do good.

But you did kill my children.

But in your daughter's womb, I bury them,
where, in that nest of spicery,

they will breed.

Shall I go win my daughter to your will?

And be a happy mother by the deed.

Write to me very shortly,

and you shall understand from me her mind.

Bear her my true love's kiss.

Farewell.

Relenting fool...

That shallow, changing woman.

Lord Stanley!

What's the news with you?

None good, Your Majesty, nor none so bad.

Hoyday, a riddle. Neither good nor bad.

- Once more, what news?
- Richmond is on the sea.

Then be the seas on him.
What does he there?

- Your Majesty, I know not but by guess.
- Well, as you guess?

Stirred up by Buckingham,
he makes for England,

- here to claim the crown.
- Is the throne empty?

Is the King dead?

You will revolt and fly to him, I fear.

I never was, nor never will be false.

Go, then, and muster men.

But leave behind with us
your son young George.

Stanley, look your heart be firm,

or else his head's assurance is but frail.

You Majesty.

- The Duke of Buckingham...
- Till you bring better news!

The Duke of Buckingham is taken prisoner.

I cry you mercy.

Richmond is landed
with a mighty power from France.

Let's go to meet him.

While we reason here,
a royal battle might be won and lost.

Tyrell! Give order Buckingham be brought!

Welcome.

Brackenbury. Richmond!

Fortune and victory be with you, nephew.

The Queen has heartily consented
that I marry Princess Elizabeth.

England rejoice!

- Good, Lord Stanley. Brackenbury.
- Archbishop.

Prepare your advance early in the morning.
On your side, I may not be too forward.

Your cousin George is held in custody.

Wretched, bloody, and usurping swine.

I do not doubt
but his friends will turn to you.

He has no friends.

Will not King Richard
let me speak with him?

- No, my good lord.
- Made I him king for this?

Tyrell, why look you so sad?

My heart is ten times lighter
than my looks, my lord.

- What is it o'clock?
- It's supper time, Your Majesty.

I'll not sup tonight.
Let's consult upon tomorrow's business.

- What is the number of the traitors?
- Six or seven thousand, Your Majesty.

Our battalion trebles that account.

Besides, the King's name...

Is a tower of strength.

Catesby!

- Your Majesty.
- Send for Lord Stanley.

Bid him bring his force before
sun-rising, lest his son George

fall into the blind cave of eternal night.

Leave me.

I will.

Stir with the lark tomorrow,

- gentle Tyrell.
- Your Majesty.

Leave me, I say.

Oh Lord, let Richmond and Elizabeth

by your fair ordinance be joined together.

And let their heirs, God, if thy will be so...

Enrich the time to come
with smooth-faced peace.

Oh thou, whose captain I account myself,

look on my forces with a gracious eye,

put in their hands
thy bruising arms of wrath

that we may praise thee in thy victory.

Sleeping and waking.

Defend me still.

Are you my son? You toad!

Richard!

- You do me shameful...
- Bloody will be your end!

You do infect my eyes!

My Lord of Gloucester,

I have too long borne
your blunt upbraidings!

Because that I am little like an ape,

I think that you should bear me
on your shoulders.

Where are my children?

I did but dream.

Oh, coward conscience.

What do I fear? There's none else by.

Richard loves Richard.

That is, I am I.

Is there a murderer here?

No. Yes...

I am.

I love myself. But why?

For any good that I myself
have done unto myself?

Oh, no. Alack, I rather hate myself...

For hateful deeds committed by myself.

I'm a villain.

But I lie. I am not.

Fool, of thyself speak well.

Fool, do not flatter.

My conscience has
a thousand, several tongues

thronged to the bar, crying all,
"Guilty! Guilty!"

I shall despair.

There is no creature loves me,

and if I die, no soul will pity me.

- Your Majesty.
- Ratcliffe.

- Will all our friends prove true?
- No doubt, Your Majesty.

Ratcliffe, I fear... I fear...

Oh, no, Your Majesty.

Be not afraid of shadows.

How have you slept, my lord?

The sweetest sleep,
the fairest-boding dreams

that ever entered in a drowsy head.

Conscience is but a word that cowards use.

Remember whom you are to cope with.

All a sort of vagabonds,
rascals and runaways.

And who does lead them
but a paltry fellow, a milksop.

If we be conquered, let men conquer us.

Let's whip these stragglers
over the seas again.

Shall these enjoy our lands?
Lie with our wives?

Ravish our daughters?

What says Lord Stanley?
Will he bring his force?

My lord, he has refused to come to you.

Then off with his son George's head.

Stanley...

Your Majesty! Your Majesty!

Richard! Richard!

A horse! A horse!

My kingdom for a horse!

James Tyrell, rescue...

Escape, Your Majesty! Escape!
I'll help you to a horse!

Escape? Slave!

Stop! Stop!

Richard!

Richard!

No! No!

Let's do it pell-mell.

If not to heaven,

then hand in hand to hell.

I'm sitting on top of the world

I'm rolling along

Yes, rolling along

And I'm quitting the blues of the world

I'm singing a song

Yes, singing a song

Glory hallelujah

I just told the parson

Hey, Par, get ready to call

Just like Humpty Dumpty

I'm going to fall

And I'm sitting on top of the world

I'm rolling along

Rolling along

Don't want any millions

I'm getting my share

I've only got one suit, just one

That's all I can wear

A bundle of money

Don't make me feel gay

A sweet little honey

Is making me sad

And I'm sitting

Sitting on top, top of the world

I'm rolling along

Rolling along

And I'm quitting

Quitting the blues, blues of the world

I'm singing a song

Just singing a song

Glory hallelujah

I just told the parson

Hey, Par, get ready to call

Just like Humpty Dumpty

I'm going to fall, yeah

I'm sitting on top of the world

I'm rolling along

Yes, rolling along

And I'm quitting

The blues of the world

I'm singing a song

Yes, singing a song

Glory hallelujah

I just told the parson

Hey, Par, get ready to call

Just like Humpty Dumpty

I'm going to fall

And I'm sitting on top of the world

I'm rolling along

Rolling along

Don't want any millions

I'm getting my share

I've only got one suit, just one

That's all I can wear

A bundle of money

Don't make me feel gay

My sweet little honey

Is making me sad

And I'm sitting

Sitting on top, top of the world

I'm rolling along

Rolling along

And I'm quitting

Quitting the blues, blues of the world

I'm singing a song

Just singing a song

Glory hallelujah

I just told the parson

Hey, Par, get ready to call

Just like Humpty Dumpty

I'm going to fall

Yeah, I'm sitting

On top, top of the world

I'm rolling along, rolling along