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Gle. I cry thee mercy then; for I did think, That thou had'ft call'd me all these bitter names. 2. Mar. Why, fo I did; but look'd for no reply.

O, let me make the period to my curfe.

Glo. 'Tis done by me; and ends in—Margaret.
Queen. Thus have you breath'd your curfe

against yourself.

[fortune!

5

Hath in eternal darknefs folded up.
Your aiery buildeth in our aiery's" neft:-
O God, that fee'ft it, do not fuffer it;

As it was won with blood, loft be it fo!

Buck. Peace, peace, for shame, if not for charity. 2. Mar. Urge neither charity nor shame to me; Uncharitably with me have you dealt,

And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd.
My charity is outrage, life my fhame,—

10 And in my shame still live my forrow's rage!
Buck. Have done, have done.

[hand,

2. Mar. O princely Buckingham, I'll kifs thy In fign of league and amity with thee: Now fair befal thee, and thy noble house! 15Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, Nor thou within the compafs of my curfe.

20

2. Mar. Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my Why ftrew'st thou fugar on that bottled 5 fpider, Whofe deadly web enfnareth thee about? Fool, fool: thou whett'st a knife to kill thyself. The day will come, that thou fhalt with for me To help thee curfe this pois'nous bunch-back'd toad. [curfe; 25 Haft. Falfe-boding woman, end thy frantick Left, to thy harm, thou move our patience.

2. Mar. Foul fhame upon you! you have all
mov'd mine.

Riv. Were you well ferv'd, you would be taught 30
your duty.
[me duty,

2. Mar. To ferve me well, you all fhould do
Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects:
O, ferve me well, and teach yourselves that duty.
Dorf. Difpute not with her, fhe is lunatic.

2. Mar. Peace, master marquis, you are mal

apert;

Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current:
O, that your young nobility could judge,

Buck. Nor no one here; for curfes never país
The lips of thofe that breathe them in the air.

2. Mar. I'll not believe but they afcend the sky,
And there awake God's gentle-fleeping peace.
O Buckingham, beware of yonder dog;
Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites,
His venom tooth will rankle to the death:
Have not to do with him, beware of him; [him;
Sin, death, and hell, have fet their marks upon
And all their ministers attend on him. [ham?

Glo. What doth fhe fay, my lord of Bucking-
Buck. Nothing that I refpect, my gracious lord.
2. Mar. What, doft thou fcorn me for my gen-
tle counfel?

And footh the devil that I warn thee from?
O, but remember this another day,
When he fhall fplit thy very heart with forrow;
And say, poor Margaret was a prophetess.—
35 Live each of you the subjects to his hate,
And he to yours, and all of you to God's! [Exit.
Buck. My hair doth stand on end to hear her curfes.
Riv. And fo doth mine; I wonder, she's at liberty.
Glo. I cannot blame her, by God's holy mother;

What 'twere to lofe it, and be miferable! [them; 40 She hath had too much wrong, and I repent

They that ftand high, have many blafts to fhake
And, if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces.
Glo. Good counsel, marry ;-learn it, learn it,

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My part thereof, that I have done to her.

Queen. I never did her any, to my knowledge. Glo. Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong. I was too hot to do fome body good,

45 That is too cold in thinking of it now.

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The common people in Scotland have ftill an averfion to those who have any natural defect or redundancy, as thinking them mark'd out for mifchief. She calls him bog, as an appellation more contemptuous than boar, as he is elsewhere termed from his entigns armorial. 3 The expreffion is ftrong and noble, and alludes to the ancient custom of mafters branding their profligate flaves: by which it is infinuated, that his mishapen person was the mark that nature had fet upon him to ftigmatize his ill conditions. 4 Intimating that much of his honour was torn away. 5 A fpider is called bottled, because, unlike other infects, he has a middle slender, and a belly protuberant. Richard's form and venom make her liken him to a fpider. An aiery is a hawk's or an eagle's neft. 7 Mr.

Pope fays, that a frank is an old English word for a bog-fye, and that 'tis poffible he uses this metapor to Clarence, in allufion to the creft of the family of York, which was a bear. Mr. Steevens however afferts, that a frank was not a common bog-flye, but the pen in which thofe hogs were confined of whom brawn was to be made. 8 i. e. harm, mischief. Enter

Enter Catesby.

Catef. Madam, his majesty doth call for you,-
And for your grace,—and you, my noble lords.
Queen. Catesby, I come :-Lords, will you go
with me?

Riv. Madam, we will attend your grace.
[Exeunt all but Glofter-
Gla. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl.
The fecret mischiefs that I set abroach,
I lay unto the grievous charge of others.
Clarence, whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness,
I do beweep to many fimple gulls;
Namely, to Stanley, Haftings, Buckingham;
And tell them-'tis the queen and her allies,
That ftir the king against the duke my brother.
Now they believe it; and withal whet me
To be reveng'd on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey:
But then I figh, and, with a piece of scripture,
Tell them that God bids us do good for evil :
And thus I clothe my naked villainy

With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ;
And seem a faint, when most I play the devil.
Enter two Murderers.

But foft, here come my executioners.-
How now, my hardy, ftout, refolved mates?
Are you now going to dispatch this thing?

1 Mur. We are, my lord; and come to have
the warrant,

That we may be admitted where he is.

[me:

5

And, in my company, my brother Glofter:
Who from my cabin tempted me to waik

Upon the hatches; thence we look'd towards
England,

And cited up a thousand heavy times,

During the wars of York and Lancaster

That had befall'n us. As we pac'd along
Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
Methought, that Glofter ftumbled; and, in falling,
10 Struck me, that thought to stay him, over-board,
Into the tumbling billows of the main.

O Lord! methought what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noife of water in mine ears!
What fights of ugly death within mine eyes!
15 Methought, I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
A thousand men, that fishes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Ineftimable ftones, unvalued 3 jewels,

All fcatter'd in the bottom of the fea.

20 Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes,
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept
(As 'twere in fcorn of eyes) reflecting gems,
That woo'd the flimy bottom of the deep,
And mock'd the dead bones that lav fcatter'd by.
Brak. Had you fuch leisure in the time of death,
To gaze upon thefe fecrets of the deep?

25

Clar. Methought, I had; and often did I strive To yield the ghoft: but still the envious flood Kept in my foul, and would not let it forth

Gio. Well thought upon, I have it here about 30 To feek the empty, vaft, and wand'ring air;

When you have done, repair to Crosby-place.

But, firs, be fudden in the execution,

Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead;
For Clarence is well spoken, and, perhaps,

May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him.
I Mur. Tut, tut, my lord, we will not ftand
to prate,

But fmother'd it within my panting bulk,
Which almoft burst to belch it in the sea.

Brak. Awak'd you not with this fore agony? Clar. O, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life; 350, then began the tempeft to my foul!

Talkers are no good doers; be affur'd,
We go to use our hands, and not our tongues.
G. Your eyes drop mill-stones, when fools'40
eyes drop tears' :

I like you, lads; about your business straight;
Go, go, dispatch.

1 Mur. We will, my noble lord.

SCENE IV.

An Apartment in the Tower.

Enter Clarence, and Brakenbury.

[Exeunt.

I pafs'd, methought, the melancholy flood,
With that grim ferryman which poets write of,
Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.
The firit that there did greet my stranger foul,
Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick;
Who cry'd aloud,-What Scourge for perjury
Can this dark monarchy afford falje Clarence?
And fo he vanifh'd: Then came wand'ring by
A fhadow like an angel, with bright hair
45 Dabbled in blood; and he fhriek'd out aloud,---
Clarence is come-false, flecting, perjur'd Clarence,
That fabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury z—
Seize on him, furies, take bim to your torments !—
With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends

Brak. Why looks your grace fo heavily to-day ?50 Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears

Cla. O, I have past a miserable night,
So full of fearful dreams, of ugly fights,
That, as I am a chriftian faithful man2,

I would not spend another such a night,
Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days;
So full of difmal terror was the time.

Brak. What was your dream, my lord? I pray
you, tell me.

Clar. Methought, that I had broken from the
Tower,

And was embark'd to crofs to Burgundy;

55

Such hideous cries, that, with the very noife,
I trembling wak'd, and, for a season after,
Could not believe but that I was in hell;
Such terrible impreffion made my dream.

Brak. No marvel, lord, that it affrighted you;

I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.
Clar. O, Brakenbury, I have done thefe

things,

That now give evidence against my foul,60 For Edward's fake; and, fee, how he requites me! O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee,

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O, fpare my guiltless wife, and my poor chil-
I pray thee, gentle keeper, ftay by me;
My foul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.
Brak. I will, my lord; God give your grace
good reft!-
[Clarence fleeps.

Sorrow breaks seasons, and repofing hours,
Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night.
Princes have but their titles for their glories,
An outward honour for an inward toil;

And, for unfelt imaginations,

They often feel a world of restless cares *:
So that, between their titles and low name,
There's nothing differs but the outward fame.
Enter the two Murderers.

1 Murd. Ho! who's here?

Brak. What would'st thou, fellow? and how cam'ft thou hither?

5

1 Murd. Where's thy confcience now?

2 Murd. In the duke of Glofter's purse. 1 Murd. When he opens his purse to give us our reward, thy confcience flies out.

2 Murd. 'Tis no matter; let it go; there's few, or none, will entertain it.

1 Murd. What, if it come to thee again?

2 Murd. I'll not meddle with it, it is a dangerous thing, it makes a man a coward; a man cannot 1ofteal, but it accufeth him; a man cannot swear, but it checks him; a man cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it detects him: 'Tis a blushing fhame-fac'd fpirit, that mutinies in a man's bofom; it fills one full of obstacles: it made me 15 once reftore a purfe of gold, that by chance I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it is turn'd out of all towns and cities for a dangerous thing; and every man, that means to live well, endeavours to truft to himself, and live without it.

2 Murd. I would speak with Clarence, and 120 came hither on my legs.

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1 Murd. O, fir, 'tis better to be brief, than teShew him our commiffion, talk no more.

Brak. I am, in this, commanded to deliver
The noble duke of Clarence to your hands:-
I will not reafon what is meant hereby,
Because I will be guiltless of the meaning.
Here are the keys;-there fits the duke asleep:
I'll to the king; and fignify to him,
That thus I have refign'd to you my charge.

1 Murd. You may, fir, 'tis a point of wisdom :
Fare you well.
[Exit Brakenbury.

1251

1 Murd. 'Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, perfuading me not to kill the duke.

2 Murd. Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him not: he would infinuate with thee, but to make thee figh.

1 Murd. I am strong fram'd, he cannot prevail with me.

2 Murd. Spoke like a tall 2 fellow, that refpects his reputation. Come, fhall we fall to work?

1 Murd. Take him over the coftard 3 with 30 the hilts of thy fword, and then throw him into the malmfey-butt, in the next room.

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1 Murd. What? art thou afraid?

2 Murd. Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be damn'd for killing him, from the 45 which no warrant can defend me.

1 Murd. I thought, thou had'st been refolute. 2 Murd. So I am, to let him live.

1 Murd. I'll back to the duke of Glofter, and tell him fo.

2 Murd. Nay, I pr'ythee, ftay a little: I hope, this compaffionate humour of mine will change; it was wont to hold me but while one would tell twenty.

1 Murd. How doft thou feel thyfelf now? 2 Murd. 'Faith, fome certain dregs of confcience are yet within me.

1 Murd. Remember our reward, when the deed's done.

2 Murd. O excellent device! and make a fop

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Clar. How darkly, and how deadly dost thou Your eyes do menace me: why look you pale? 50 Who fent you hither? Wherefore do you come? 2 Murd. To, to, to,— Clar. To murder me? Both. Ay, ay.

Clar. You scarcely have the hearts to tell me fo, 55 And 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 fhall be reconcil'd to him again. 2 Murd. Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die.

2 Murd. Come, he dies; I had forgot the reward. 601

1 Meaning, they often fuffer real miferies for imaginary and unreal gratifications.

English, means flout, daring, fearks, and frong.

fhap'd like a man's head.

4 c. we'll talk,

2 Tall, in old

i. e. the head, a name adopted from an apple

Clara

Cla. Are you call'd forth from out a world off men,

To flay the innocent? What is my offence?
Where is the evidence that doth accufe me?
What lawful queft' have given their verdict up
Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounc'd
The bitter fentence of poor Clarence' death?
Before I be convict by course of law,

To threaten me with death, is most unlawful.
I charge you, as you hope to have redemption,
That you depart, and lay no hands on me;
The deed you undertake is damnable.

1 Mard. What we will do, we do upon command. 2 Murd. And he that hath commanded is our king.

Clar. Erroneous vaffal! the great King of kings Hath in the table of his law commanded, That thou shalt do no murder; wilt thou then Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's? Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hand, To hurl upon their heads that break his law.

2 Murd. And that fame vengeance doth he hurl on thee,

For false forfwearing, and for murder too:
Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight
In quarrel of the house of Lancaster.

[blade,

I Murd. And, like a traitor to the name of God, Didft break that vow; and, with thy treacherous Unripp'dft the bowels of thy fovereign's fon. 2 Murd. Whom thou waft sworn to cherish and defend.

[law to us, 1 Murd. How canft thou urge God's dreadful When thou haft broke it in such dear degree? Clar. Alas! for whose fake did I that ill deed? For Edward, for my brother, for his fake; He fends you not to murder me for this: For in that fin he is as deep as I.

If God will be avenged for the deed,

O, know you yet, he doth it publickly:
Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm;
He needs no indirect nor lawless course,
To cut off thofe that have offended him.

1 Murd. Who made thee then a bloody minister, When gallant-fpringing2, brave Plantagenet, That princely 3 novice, was ftruck dead by thee? Cla. My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. Murd. Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault,

Provoke us hither now to flaughter thee.

Clar. If you do love my brother, hate not me; I am his brother, and I love him well. If you are hir'd for meed, go back again, And I will fend you to my brother Gloster; Who fhall reward you better for my life, Than Edward will for tidings of my death.

2 Murd. You are deceiv'd, your brother Glofter hates you.

Cla. Oh, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear: Go you to him from me.

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Clar. O, do not flander him, for he is kind.
1 Murd. Right, as fnow in harvest.-Come, you
deceive yourfelf;

'Tis he that fends us to deftroy you here.

Clar. It cannot be; for he bewept my fortune, And hugg'd me in his arms, and fwore with fobs, 15 That he would labour my delivery.

20

25

30

1 Murd. Why, fo he doth, when he delivers you From this earth's thraldom to the joys of heaven. 2 Murd. Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord.

Clar. Haft thou that holy feeling in thy foul, To counfel me to make my peace with God, And art thou yet to thy own foul fo blind, That thou wilt war with God by murdering me?— O, firs, confider, he that fets you on To do this deed, will hate you for the deed. 2 Murd. What shall we do?

Clar. Relent, and fave your fouls.

Which of you, if you were a prince's fon,
Being pent from liberty, as I am now,—

If two fuch murderers as yourselves came to you➡◄◄
Would not intreat for life? as you would beg,
Were you in my diftrefs,-

1 Murd. Relent! 'tis cowardly, and womanish. Clar. Not to relent, is beaftly, favage, devilish.35 My friend, I fpy fome pity in thy looks; O, if thine eye be not a flatterer,

140

Come thou on my fide, and entreat for me:
A begging prince what beggar pities not?
2 Murd. Look behind you, my lord.

1 Mard. Take that, and that; if all this will
not ferve,
[Stabs bim.
I'll drown you in the malmfey-butt within. [Exit.
2 Murd. A bloody deed, and desperately dif
patch'd!

45 How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands
Of this most grievous guilty murder done!
Re-enter first Murderer.

I Murd. How now? what mean'ft thou, that thou help'ft me not? [have been. 50 By heaven, the duke fhall know how flack you 2 Murd. I would he knew that I had fav'd his

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Buck. And, in good time, here comes the noble
Enter Glofter.

[duke.
Glo. Good-morrow to my fovereign, king, and
And, princely peers, a happy time of day! [queen;
K. Edw. Happy, indeed, as we have spent the
Brother, we have done deeds of charity; [day :-
Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate,
Between thefe fwelling wrong-incensed peers.

Glo. A bleffed labour, my most sovereign liege.-
10 Among this princely heap, if any here,
By falfe intelligence, or wrong furmise,
Hold me a foe; if I unwittingly
Have aught committed that is hardly borne
By any in this prefence, I defire
To reconcile me to his friendly peace:
'Tis death to me, to be at enmity;

Riv. By heaven, my foul is purg'd from grudg-15
ing hate;

And with my hand I feal my true heart's love.
Haft. So thrive I, as I truly fwear the like!
K. Edw. Take heed, you dally not before your
king;

Left he, that is the fupreme King of kings,
Confound your hidden falfhood, and award
Either of you to be the other's end.

I hate it, and defire all good men's love.-
Firft, madam, I entreat true peace of you,
Which I will purchafe with my duteous fervice;
20 Of you, my noble coufin Buckingham,

Haft. So profper I, as I fwear perfect love.
Riv. And I, as I love Hastings with my heart! 25
K. Edw. Madam, yourself are not exempt in

this,

Nor your fon Dorfet,-Buckingham, nor you ;-
You have been factious one against the other.
Wife, love lord Haftings, let him kifs your hand; 30
And what you do, do it unfeignedly. [remember
Queen. There, Hastings;-I will never more
Our former hatred, fo thrive I, and mine!
K. Edw. Dorfet, embrace him;-Haftings, love
lord marquis.

Dor. This interchange of love, I here proteft,
Upon my part, fhall be inviolable.

Haft. And fo fwear I.

[this league

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If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us ;-
Of you, lord Rivers, and, lord Grey, of you,
That all without defert have frown'd on me ;—
Of you, lord Woodville,—and, lord Scales, of you,--
Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all.
I do not know that Englishman alive,
With whom my foul is any jot at odds,
More than the infant that is born to-night;
I thank my God for my humility.

Queen. A holy-day this fhall be kept hereafter :-
I would to God,all ftrifes were well compounded.-
My fovereign lord, I do befeech your highness
To take our brother Clarence to your grace.
Glo. Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this,
35 To be fo flouted in this royal prefence?
Who knows not, that the gentle duke is dead?
[They all fiart.
You do him injury, to fcorn his corfe. [he is?
K.Ed. Who knows not, he is dead! who knows
Queen. All-feeing heaven, what a world is this!
Buck. Look I fo pale, lord Dorfet, as the reft?
Dor. Ay, my good lord; and no man in the

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prefence,

But his red-colour hath forfook his cheeks.

K. Edw. Is Clarence dead? the order was re-
vers'd.

Glo. But he, poor man, by your first order died,
And that a winged Mercury did bear;
Some tardy cripple bore the countermand',
50 That came too lag to fee him buried:--.
God grant, that fome, lefs noble, and lefs loyal,
Nearer in bloody thoughts, and not in blood,
Deferve not worse than wretched Clarence did,
And yet go current from fufpicion!

55

Enter Lord Stanley,

Stan. A boon, my fovereign, for my fervice done!

This alludes to a proverbial expreffion, that "Ill news hath wings, and with the wind doth go; Comfort's a cripple, and comes ever flow."

K. Edw

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