Open Source Shakespeare

Speeches (Lines) for Messenger
in "Richard III"

Total: 13

# Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context)
Speech text

1

II,4,1524

Thomas Rotherham. Here comes a messenger. What news?

Messenger. Such news, my lord, as grieves me to unfold.


2

II,4,1526

Queen Elizabeth. How fares the prince?

Messenger. Well, madam, and in health.


3

II,4,1528

Duchess of York. What is thy news then?

Messenger. Lord Rivers and Lord Grey are sent to Pomfret,
With them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners.


4

II,4,1531

Duchess of York. Who hath committed them?

Messenger. The mighty dukes
Gloucester and Buckingham.


5

II,4,1534

Queen Elizabeth. For what offence?

Messenger. The sum of all I can, I have disclosed;
Why or for what these nobles were committed
Is all unknown to me, my gracious lady.


6

III,2,1779

(stage directions). [Enter a Messenger]

Messenger. What, ho! my lord!


7

III,2,1781

Lord Hastings. [Within] Who knocks at the door?

Messenger. A messenger from the Lord Stanley.


8

III,2,1784

Lord Hastings. What is't o'clock?

Messenger. Upon the stroke of four.


9

III,2,1786

Lord Hastings. Cannot thy master sleep these tedious nights?

Messenger. So it should seem by that I have to say.
First, he commends him to your noble lordship.


10

III,2,1789

Lord Hastings. And then?

Messenger. And then he sends you word
He dreamt to-night the boar had razed his helm:
Besides, he says there are two councils held;
And that may be determined at the one
which may make you and him to rue at the other.
Therefore he sends to know your lordship's pleasure,
If presently you will take horse with him,
And with all speed post with him toward the north,
To shun the danger that his soul divines.


11

III,2,1813

Lord Hastings. Go, fellow, go, return unto thy lord;
Bid him not fear the separated councils
His honour and myself are at the one,
And at the other is my servant Catesby
Where nothing can proceed that toucheth us
Whereof I shall not have intelligence.
Tell him his fears are shallow, wanting instance:
And for his dreams, I wonder he is so fond
To trust the mockery of unquiet slumbers
To fly the boar before the boar pursues,
Were to incense the boar to follow us
And make pursuit where he did mean no chase.
Go, bid thy master rise and come to me
And we will both together to the Tower,
Where, he shall see, the boar will use us kindly.

Messenger. My gracious lord, I'll tell him what you say.


12

IV,4,3326

(stage directions). [Enter a Messenger]

Messenger. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,
As I by friends am well advertised,
Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate
Bishop of Exeter, his brother there,
With many more confederates, are in arms.


13

V,3,3862

Richard III (Duke of Gloucester). [Reads]
'Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold,
For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.'
A thing devised by the enemy.
Go, gentleman, every man unto his charge
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls:
Conscience is but a word that cowards use,
Devised at first to keep the strong in awe:
Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law.
March on, join bravely, let us to't pell-mell
If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.
[His oration to his Army]
What shall I say more than I have inferr'd?
Remember whom you are to cope withal;
A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways,
A scum of Bretons, and base lackey peasants,
Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth
To desperate ventures and assured destruction.
You sleeping safe, they bring to you unrest;
You having lands, and blest with beauteous wives,
They would restrain the one, distain the other.
And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow,
Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost?
A milk-sop, one that never in his life
Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow?
Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again;
Lash hence these overweening rags of France,
These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives;
Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit,
For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves:
If we be conquer'd, let men conquer us,
And not these bastard Bretons; whom our fathers
Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd,
And in record, left them the heirs of shame.
Shall these enjoy our lands? lie with our wives?
Ravish our daughters?
[Drum afar off]
Hark! I hear their drum.
Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yoemen!
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood;
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!
[Enter a Messenger]
What says Lord Stanley? will he bring his power?

Messenger. My lord, he doth deny to come.