Teach your students to analyze literature like LitCharts does. Come now, guards, continue on towards Chertsey Abbey, where this holy burden—which you picked up at Saint Paul's cathedral—will be laid to rest. Perfect for acing essays, tests, and quizzes, as well as for writing lesson plans. In thy foul throat thou liest. They're like having in-class notes for every discussion!”, “This is absolutely THE best teacher resource I have ever purchased. That it would please you leave these sad designs. These eyes could never endure that beauty’s wrack. And now she's going to cheapen herself by turning her eyes on me, who cut short her sweet prince's life and made her a widow in mourning? Say it again, and as soon as you finish speaking. All Acts and Scenes are listed on the original Richard III text page, or linked to from the bottom of this page. You've made the pleasant earth into your hell, filling it with cursing cries and deep laments. And let the soul forth that adoreth thee. But first I’ll turn yon fellow in his grave. This page contains the original text of Richard III, Act 1, Scene 2.Shakespeare’s original Richard III text is long, so we’ve split the text into one Scene per page. My eyes have never cried like this before—not even when my father York and my brother Edward wept at the death of my brother Rutland, who was slaughtered by the gloomy Clifford. Students love them!”, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, King Richard III. After I have solemnly buried this noble king at Chertsey Abbey, and wet his grave with my repentant tears, I will hurry to meet you there. Take up the sword again, or else take me. When her mouth was full of curses, her eyes full of tears, and the bloody corpse of my victim right in front of her? Go away, you dreadful servant of hell. Villain, thou know’st not law of God nor man. What, I that killed her husband and his father, To take her in her heart’s extremest hate, With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of my hatred by, Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit at all But the plain devil and dissembling looks? I was the one who stabbed young Edward—though your heavenly face that drove me to it. Enter GLOUCESTER, solus GLOUCESTER Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house You said it in a rage. Richard III (Duke of Gloucester). You only had power over Henry's body; you can't have his soul. No, towards Whitefriars Monastery. Go immediately to my estate at Crosby House. No, don't pause. Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. That way my soul, which adores you, can be free. ACT 1, SCENE 2. Look, how this ring encompasseth finger; Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart. That way, the child will inherit your murderer's own unhappiness. Richard III - Act 1 - An extensive collection of teaching resources for KS3 English plays, including Shakespeare and other KS3 plays. I’ll be at charges for a looking glass And entertain a score or two of tailors To study fashions to adorn my body. No, don't pause. That's true, madam, until I sleep with you. What evil magician has conjured up this devil to interrupt our sacred burial procession? Has a woman in such a mood ever been won? And you're not suited for any place but hell. In the same way, my poor heart is enclosed inside your chest. Thy murd'rous falchion smoking in his blood. Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither. Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it were made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. My husband was Edward—your slaughtered son—who was murdered by the same man who stabbed you. Poison never fell onto a fouler toad. For right now your eyes are killing me with a living death. 'Tis more than you deserve; But since you teach me how to flatter you,Imagine I have said “farewell” already. With all my heart, and much it joys me tooTo see you are become so penitent.—Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me. I curse the heart of the person who had the heart to do it. SCENE: England King Richard the Third. Poor key-cold figure of a holy king, Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster, Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood, Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost To hear the lamentations of poor Anne, Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son, Stabbed by the selfsame hand that made these wounds. She prepares to thrust at it with his sword. As the courtiers gather to watch, Hamlet acts mad once more, insulting Ophelia with all kinds of indecent taunts.
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