hilts of thy sword, and then throw him into the When thou hast broke it in such dear demalmsey-butt, in the next room. 2 Murd. O excellent device! and make a sop of him. 1 Murd. Soft! he wakes. 2 Murd. Strike. 1 Murd. No, we'll reason with him. Clar. Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine. 1 Murd. You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. Clar. In God's name, what art thou? 1 Murd. A man, as you are. Clar. But not, as I am, royal. 1 Murd. Nor you, as we are, loyal. Clar. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. 1 Murd. My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own. Clar. How darkly, and how deadly dost thou speak! Your eyes do menace me: Why look you pale? Clar. You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so, nd therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. Wherein, my friends, have I offended you? 1 Murd. Offended us you have not, but the king. Clar. I shall be reconciled to him again. 2 Murd. Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die. Clar. Are you call'd forth from out a world of men, To slay the innocent? What is my offence? Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounc'd That you depart, and lay no hands on me; 1 Murd. What we will do, we do upon com mand. 2 Murd. And he, that hath commanded, is our king. Clar. Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings Hath in the table of his law commanded, For false forswearing, and for murder too: 1 Murd. And, like a traitor to the name of God, Didst break that vow; and, with thy treacherous blade, Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son. 2 Murd. Whom thou wast sworn to cherish and defend. 1 Murd. How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us, * Inquest, jury. gree? Clar. Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed? For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: 1 Murd. Who made thee then a bloody minister, When gallant-springing, brave Plantagenet, That princely novice,* was struck dead by thee? me; I am his brother, and I love him well. Clar. O, no; he loves me, and he holds me dear: Go you to him from me. Both Murd. Ay, so we will. Clar. Tell him, when that our princely fa ther York Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm, And charg'd us from his soul to love each other, He little thought of this divided friendship: Bid Gloster think on this, and he will weep. 1 Murd. Ay, mill-stones; as he lesson'd us to weep. Clar. O, do not slander him, for he is kind. 1 Murd. Right, as snow in harvest.—Come, you deceive yourself; "Tis he that sends us to destroy you here. Clar. It cannot be; for he bewept my fortune, [sobs, And hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with That he would labour my delivery. 1 Murd. Why so he doth, when he delivers you [ven. From this earth's thraldom to the joys of hea2 Murd. Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. Clar. Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul, To counsel me to make my peace with God, And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind, That thou wilt war with God, by murd'ring me? On the part. thy looks; Would not entreat for life?- 1 Murd. Take that, and that; if all this will not do, [Stabs him. I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within. [Exit, with the body. 2 Murd. A bloody deed, and desperately despatch'd! How fain, like Pilate, would wash my hands Of this most grievous guilty murder done! Re-enter first MURDERER. 1 Murd. How now? what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not? By heaven, the duke shall know how slack you have been. 2 Murd. I would he knew, that I had sav'd his brother! Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say; For I repent me that the duke is slain. [Exit. 1 Murd. So do not I; go, coward, as thou Well, I'll go hide the body in some hole, [art.Till that the duke give order for his burial: And when I have my meed, I will away; For this will out, and then I must not stay. ACT II. [Exit. SCENE I.-The same.-A Room in the Palace. With thy embracements to my wife's allies, Buck. Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate Upon your grace, [To the QUEEN.] but with all duteous love Doth cherish you, and yours, God punish me K. Edw. A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham, Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. There wanteth now our brother Gloster here, To make the blessed period of this peace. Buck. And, in good time, here comes the noble duke. Among this princely heap, if any here, By false intelligence, or wrong surmise, Enter King EDWARD, (led in sick,) Queen ELI-Hold me a foe; K. Edw. Why, so:-now have I done a good You peers, continue this united league: ven, Since I have made my friends at peace on earth. Rivers, and Hastings, take each other's hand; Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love. Riv. By heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate; And with my hand I seal my true heart's love. Hast. So thrive I, as I truly swear the like! K. Edw. Take heed, you dally not before your king; Lest he, that is the supreme King of kings, Confound your hidden falsehood, and award Either of you to be the other's end. Hast. So prosper I, as I swear perfect love! Riv. And I, as I love Hastings with my heart! K. Edw. Madam, yourself are not exempt in this, Nor your son Dorset,-Buckingham, nor you;You have been factious one against the other. Wife, love lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand; And what you do, do it unfeignedly. Q. Eliz. There, Hastings;-I will never more remember Our former hatred, So thrive I, and mine! K. Edw. Dorset, embrace him,-Hastings, love lord marquis. Dor. This interchange of love, I here protest, Upon my part shall be inviolable. Hast. And so swear I. [Embraces DORSET. K. Edw. Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league Have aught committed that is hardly borne To reconcile me to his friendly peace: I hate it, and desire all good men's love.- Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, Q. Eliz. A holy-day shall this be kept hereafter: I would to God, all strifes were well compounded. My sovereign lord, I do beseech your highness To take our brother Clarence to your grace. Glo. Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this, To be so flouted in this royal presence? Who knows not, that the gentle duke is dead? [They all start. You do him injury to scorn his corse. K. Edw. Who knows not he is dead! who knows he is? Q. Eliz. All-seeing heaven, what a world is this! Buck. Look I so pale, lord Dorset as the request'st. Stan. The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman, [life; Lately attendant on the duke of Norfolk." K. Edw. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death, And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave? And I, unjustly too, must grant it you :- this.- Enter the Duchess of YORK, with a Son and DAUGHTER of Clarence. Duugh. Why do you weep so oft? and bea! your breast; And cry-O Glurence, my unhappy son! Son. Why do you look on us, and shake your head, And call us-orphans, wretches, cast-aways, If that our noble father be alive? Duch. My pretty cousins, you mistake me I do lament the sickness of the king, [both; As loath to lose him, not your father's death, It were lost sorrow, to wail one that's lost. Son. Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead. The king my uncle is to blame for this: Duch. Peace, children, peace! the king deth love you well: Incapable* and shallow innocents, [death You cannot guess who caus'd your father Son. Grandam, we can: for my good uncl: Gloster Told me, the king, provok'd to't by the queer, And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice! Duch. Ay, boy. Son. I cannot think it. Hark! what nois. is this! Enter Queen ELIZABETH distractedly; RIVERS, and DORSET, following her. Q. Eliz. Ah! who shall hinder me to wail To chide my fortune, and torment myself? Duch. What means this scene of rude impa tience? Q. Eliz. To make an act of tragic violence:Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead. Why grow the branches, when the root is gone? Why wither not the leaves, that want their sap? If you will live, lament; if die, be brief, Duch. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow, As I had title in thy noble husband! arms, And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble Son. Good grandam, tell us, is our father Clarence, and Edward. O, what cause have 1, dead? Duch. No, boy * Ignorant. (Thine being but a moiety of my grief,) To over-go thy plaints, and drown thy cries! Son. Ah, aunt! you wept not for our father's death; How can we aid you with our kindred tears? Daugh. Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd, Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept! Q. Eliz. Give me no help in lamentation, I am not barren to bring forth laments: All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, That 1, being govern'd by the watery moon, May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! [ward! Ah, for my husband, for my dear lord EdChil. Ah, for our father, for our dear lord Clarence! Duch. Alas, for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence! Q. Eliz. What stay had I, but Edward? and he's gone. Chil. What stay had we, but Clarence? and he's gone. Duch. What stays had I, but they? and they are gone. Q. Eliz. Was never widow, had so dear a loss. Chil. Were never orphans, had so dear a loss. Duch. Was never mother had so dear a loss. Alas! I am the mother of these griefs; Their woes are parcell'd,* mine are general. She for an Edward weeps, and so do I; I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I: I for an Edward weep, so do not they :Alas! you three, on me, threefold distress'd, Pour all your tears, I am your sorrow's nurse. And I will pamper it with lamentations. Dor. Comfort, dear mother; God is much displeas'd, That you take with unthankfulness his doing; In common worldly things, 'tis call'd-ungrateful, With dull unwillingness to repay a debt, Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; Much more to be thus opposite with heaven, For it requires the royal debt it lent you. Riv. Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, Of the young prince your son: send straight for him, Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives: Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's Buck. You cloudy princes, and heart sorrowing peers, That bear this mutual heavy load of moan, Hither to London, to be crown'd our king. Buck. Marry, my lord, lest, by a multitude, The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out; Which would be so much the more dangerous, By how much the estate is green, and yet ungovern'd: Where every horse bears his commanding rein, And may direct his course as please himself, As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent, In my opinion, ought to be prevented. Glo. I hope, the king made peace with all of us; And the compact is firm, and true, in me. Glo. Then be it so; and go we to determine Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow. Madam, and you my mother, will you go To give your censures in this weighty busi SCENE III.-The same.-A Street. Enter two CITIZENS, meeting. 1 Cit. Good morrrow, neighbour: Whither away so fast? 2 Cit. I promise you, I scarcely know myself: Hear you the news abroad? 1 Cit. Yes; the king's dead. 2 Cit. Ill news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better: I fear, I fear, 'twill prove a giddy world. Enter another CITIZEN. 3 Cit. Neighbours, God speed! 3 Cit. Doth the news hold of good king Edward's death? 2 Cit. Ay, Sir, it is too true; God help, the while! 1 Cit. So stood the state, when Henry the sixth Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. 3 Cit. Stood the state so? no, no, good friends, God wot;t For then this land was famously enrich'd 1 Cit. Why, so hath this, both by his father and mother. 3 Cit. Better it were they all came by his father; Or, by his father, there were none at all: And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule, 1 Cit. Come, come, we fear the worst; all will be well. 3 Cit. When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks; When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand; When the sun sets, who doth not look for night? Untimely storms make men expect a dearth: All may be well; but, if God sort it so, "Tis more than we deserve, or I expect. 2 Cit. Truly, the hearts of men are full of fear: You cannot reason; almost with a man That looks not heavily, and full of dread. 3 Cit. Before the days of change, still is it so: By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust Ensuing danger; as, by proof, we see The water swell before a boist'rous storm. But leave it all to God. Whither away? 2 Cit. Marry, we were sent for to the justices. 3 Cit. And so was I; I'll bear you company. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The same.-A Room in the Palace. Enter the Archbishop of YORK, the young Duke of YORK, Queen ELIZABETH, and the Duchess of YORK. Arch. Last night, I heard, they lay at Stony- And at Northampton they do rest to-night: I hope, he is much grown since last I saw him. Hath almost overta'en him in his growth. York. Ay, mother, but I would not have it My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow More than my brother; Ay, quoth my uncle Gloster, Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace: And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast, Because sweet flowers are slow, and weeds make haste. Duch. 'Good faith, 'good faith, the saying did not hold In him that did object the same to thee: So long a growing, and so leisurely, madam. Duch. I hope, he is; but yet let mothers doubt. York. Now, by my troth, if I had been re member'd, I could have given my uncle's grace a flout, To touch his growth, nearer than he touch'd mine. Duch. How, my young York? I pr'ythee, let me hear it. York. Marry, they say, my uncle grew so fast, That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old; 'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth. Grandam, this would have been a biting jest. Duch. I pr'y thee, pretty York, who told thee this? York. Grandam, his nurse. Duch. His nurse? why, she was dead ere thou wast born. York. If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me. Q. Eliz. A parlous boy: Go to, you are too shrewd. Arch. Good madam, be not angry with the child. Q. Eliz. Pitchers have ears. Enter a MESSENGER. Arch. Here comes a messenger: What news? Mess. Such news, my lord, As grieves me to unfold. Q. Eliz. How doth the prince? Mess. Well, madam, and in health. Mess. Lord Rivers, and lord Grey, are sent to Pomfret, With them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners. Q. Eliz. For what offence? Mess. The sum of all I can, I have disclos'd; Why, or for what, the nobles were committed, Is all unknown to me, my gracious lady. Q. Eliz. Ah me, I see the ruin of my house! The tiger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind; Insulting tyranny begins to jut Upon the innocent and awless throne:Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre! I see, as in a map, the end of all. Duch. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days! How many of you have mine eyes beheld? My husband lost his life to get the crown; And often up and down my sons were tost, For me to joy, and weep, their gain, and loss: And being seated, and domestic broils Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors, Make war upon themselves; brother to brother, * Perilous, dangerous. |