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thy sword, and then throw him into the malmsey-butt 1 Murd. Who made thee, then, a bloody minister, in the next room.
When gallant-springing, brave Plantagenet, 2 Murd. O, excellent device! and make a sop of him. That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? 1 Murd. Soft! he wakes.
Clar. My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. 2 Murd. Strike.
1 Murd. Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy faults, 1 Murd. No; we'll reason with him.
Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee. Clar. [Waking.] Where art thou, keeper? give me Clar. If you do love my brother, hate not me; a cup of wine.
I am his brother, and I love him well. 1 Murd. You shall have wine enongh, my lord, anon. If you are hir'd for meed, go back again, Clar. In God's name, what art thou ?
And I will send you to my brother Gloster, 1 Murd. A man, as you are.
Who shall reward you better for my life, Clar. But not, as I am, royal.
Than Edward will for tidings of my death. 1 Murd. Nor you, as we are, loyal.
2 Murd. You are deceiv'd : your brother Gloster Clar. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. 1 Murd. My voice is now the king's, my looks mine Clar. O! no; he loves me, and he holds me dear.
Go you to him from me. Clar. How darkly, and how deadly dost thou speak. Both Murd.
Ay, so we will.
Clar. Tell him, when that our princely father York
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.
Clar. O! do not slander him, for he is kind.
1 Murd. Right; as snow in harvest.—Come, you 1 Murd. Offended us you have not, but the king. deceive yourself; Clar. I shall be reconcil'd to him again.
'Tis he that sends us to destroy you here. 2 Murd. Never, my lord; therefore, prepare to die. Clar. It cannot be; for he bewept my fortune,
Clar. Are you drawn forth among a world of men, And hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs, To slay the innocent ? What is my offence ?
That he would labour my delivery. Where is the evidence that doth accuse me?
1 Murd. Why, so he doth, when he delivers you What lawful quest have given their verdict up From this earth's thraldom to the joys of heaven. Unto the frowning judge ? or who pronounc'd
2 Murd. Make peace with God, for you must die, The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? Before I be convict by course of law,
Clar. Have you that holy feeling in your souls, To threaten me with death is most unlawful.
To counsel me to make my peace with God, I charge you, as you hope to have redemption And are you yet to your own souls so blind, By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins, That
will war with God by murdering me?That you depart, and lay no hands on me :
O! sirs, consider, they that set you on The deed you undertake is damnable.
To do this deed, will hate you for the deed.
Relent, and save your souls.
Being pent from liberty, as I am now,
Would not entreat for life? As you would beg
1 Murd. Relent? no: 'tis cowardly, and womani 2 Murd. And that same vengeance doth he hurl on Clar. Not to relent, is beastly, savage, devilish. thee,
My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks; For false forswearing, and for murder too.
0! if thine eye be not a flatterer, Thou didst receive the sacrament, to fight
Come thou on my side, and entreat for me.
A begging prince what beggar pities not?
[Exit with the Body. 1 Murd. How canst thou urge God's dreadful law 2 Murd. A bloody deed, and desperately despatch'd !
How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands
Re-enter first Murderer.
1 Murd. How now! what mean'st thou, that thou He sends you not to murder me for this;
help'st me not? For in that sin he is as deep as I.
By heaven, the duke shall know how slack you have If God will be avenged for the deed,
been. 0! know you yet, he doth it publicly.
2 Murd. I would he knew, that I had sav'd his Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm:
brother. He needs no indirect or lawless course,
Take thou the fee, and tell him what I
say, To cut off those that have offended him.
For I repent me that the duke is slain. [Exit.
1 Murd. So do not I: go, coward, as thou art.Well, I'll go hide the body in some hole, Till that the duke give order for his burial :
And when I have my meed, I will away;
ACT II. SCENE I.-London. A Room in the Palace.
Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers. Enter King Edward, led in sick, Queen Elizabeth, Among this princely heap, if any here,
Glo. A blessed labour, my most sovereign lord. Dorset, Rivers, Hastings, Buckingham, Grey, By false intelligence, or wrong surmise, and others.
Hold me a foe; K. Edw. Why, so :—now have I done a good day's If I unwittingly, or in my rage, work.
Have aught committed that is hardly borne You peers, continue this united league :
To any in this presence, I desire I every day expect an embassage
To reconcile me to his friendly peace : From my Redeemer to redeem me hence;
'Tis death to me, to be at enmity ;
Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham,
Of you, and you, lord Rivers, and of Dorset,
Hast. So thrive I, as I truly swear the like. Of you, lord Woodville, and lord Scales, of you;
K. Edw. Take heed, you dally not before your king; Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all. Lest he, that is the supreme king of kings,
I do not know that Englishman alive, Confound your hidden falsehood, and award
With whom my soul is any jot at odds, Either of you to be the other's end.
More than the infant that is born to-night. Hast. So prosper I, as I swear perfect love. I thank my God for my humility.
[Aside. Riv. And I, as I love Hastings with my heart. Q. Eliz. A holy day shall this be kept bereafter :
K. Edw. Madam, yourself are not exempt from this — I would to God, all strifes were well compounded.Nor you, son Dorset,-Buckingham, nor you ;- My sovereign lord, I do beseech your highness You have been factious one against the other. To take our brother Clarence to your grace. Wife, love lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand; Glo. Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this, And what you do, do it unfeignedly.
To be so flouted in this royal presence ? Q. Elix. There, Hastings :- I will never more re- Who knows not, that the gentle duke is dead? member
[They all start. Our former hatred, so thrive I, and mine.
You do him injury to scorn his corse. K. Edw. Dorset, embrace him ;-Hastings, love lord K. Edw. Who knows not, he is dead! who knows marquess.
he is? Dor. This interchange of love, I here protest, Q. Eliz. All-seeing heaven, what a world is this ! Upon my part shall be inviolable.
Buck. Look I so pale, lord Dorset, as the rest? Hast. And so swear I.
Dor. Ay, my good lord; and no man in the preK. Edw. Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this sence, league
But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. With thy embracements to my wife's allies,
K. Edw. Is Clarence dead? the order was revers'd. And make me happy in your unity.
Glo. But he, poor man, by your first order died, Buck. Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate And that a winged Mercury did bear; Upon your grace, [To the Queen.] but with all duteous Some tardy cripple bare the countermand, love
That came too lag to see him buried. Doth cherish you, and yours, God punish me God grant, that some, less noble, and less loyal, With hate in those where I expect most love.
Nearer in bloody thoughts, and not in blood, When I have most need to employ a friend,
Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, And most assured that he is a friend,
And yet go current from suspicion. Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile,
Enter STANLEY, Be he unto me. This do I beg of heaven,
Stan. A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! When I am cold in love to you, or yours.
[Kneels. K. Edw. A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham, K. Edw. I pr’ythee, peace: my soul is full of sorrow. Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart.
Stan. I will not rise, unless your highness hear me. There wanteth now our brother Gloster here,
K. Edw. Then say at once, what is it thou reTo make the blessed period of this peace.
questest. Buck. And, in good time, here comes the noble duke. Stan. The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life; Enter GLOSTER.
Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman, Glo. Good-morrow to my sovereign king, and queen. Lately attendant on the duke of Norfolk. And, princely peers, a happy time of day!
K. Edw. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death, K. Edw. Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day.- And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave ? Gloster, we have done deeds of charity;
My brother kill'd no man, his fault was thought, Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate,
And yet his punishment was bitter death.
Who sued to me for him ? who, in my wrath,
Duch. Ah! that deceit should steal such gentle shape, Kneeld at my feet, and bade me be advis'd ?
And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice! Who spoke of brotherhood ? who spoke of love? He is my son, ay, and therein my shame, Who told me, how the poor soul did forsake
Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me?
Son. Think you, my uncle did dissemble, grandam? Who told me, in the field at Tewksbury,
Duch. Ay, boy: When Oxford had me down, he rescu'd me,
Son. I cannot think it.-Hark! what noise is this ! And said, “Dear brother, live, and be a king ?" Enter Queen ELIZABETH, distractedly; Rivers and Who told me, when we both lay in the field,
Dorset, following her. Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me
Q. Eliz. Ah! who shall hinder me to wail and weep, Even in his garments; and did give himself,
To chide my fortune, and torment myself?
I'll join with black despair against my soul,
Duch. What means this scene of rude impatience ? Had so much grace to put it in my mind.
Q. Eliz. To make an act of tragic violence. But when your carters, or your waiting-vassals, Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead ! Have done a drunken slaughter, and defac'd
Why grow the branches, when the root is gone? The precious image of our dear Redeemer,
Why wither not the leaves, that want their sap?You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; If
you will live, lament; if die, be brief; And I, unjustly too, must grant it you.
That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; But for my brother not a man would speak,
Or, like obedient subjects, follow him Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself
To his new kingdom of ne'er changing light. For him, poor soul. - The proudest of you
Duch. Ah! so much interest have I in thy sorrow, Have been beholding to him in his life,
As I had title in thy noble husband. Yet none of you would once beg for his life.
I have bewept a worthy husband's death, O God! I fear, thy justice will take hold
And liv'd with looking on his images; On me, and
you, and mine, and yours, for this.- But now, two mirrors of his princely semblance Come, Hastings, prithee help me to my closet. Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death, Ah, poor Clarence !
And I for comfort have but one false glass, [Exeunt King, Queen, Hastings, Rivers, DORSET, That grieves me when I see my shame in him. and Grey.
Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother, Glo. This is the fruit of rashness.-Mark'd you not, And hast the comfort of thy children left: How that the guilty kindred of the queen
But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms, Look'd pale, when they did hear of Clarence' death? And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble hands, 0! they did urge it still unto the king :
Clarence, and Edward. O! what cause have I, God will revenge it. Come, lords; will you go, (Thine being but a moiety of my moan) To comfort Edward with our company?
To over-go thy woes, and drown thy cries? Buck. We wait upon your grace.
[Exeunt. Son. Ah, aunt! you wept not for our father's death; SCENE II.-London.
How can we aid you with our kindred tears? Enter the Duchess of York, with a Son and Daughter Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept.
Daugh. Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd; of CLARENCE.
Q. Eliz. Give me no help in lamentation; Son. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead? I am not barren to bring forth complaints. Duch. No, boy:
All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, Daugh. Why do you weep so ? and oft beat your That I, being govern'd by the watry moon, breast;
May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world ! And cry—"O Clarence, my unhappy son!”
Ah, for my husband, for my dear lord, Edward ! Son. Why do you look on us, and shake your head, Chil. Ah, for our father, for our dear lord Clarence! And call us-orphans, wretches, cast-aways,
Duch. Alas, for both! both mine, Edward and ClaIf that our noble father were alive?
Duch. My pretty cousins, you mistake me both, Q. Eliz. What stay had I, but Edward? and he's I do lament the sickness of the king,
Chil. What stay had we, but Clarence? and he's gone. As loath to lose him, not your father's death.
Duch. What stays had I, but they? and they are gone. It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost.
Q. Eliz. Was never widow had so dear a loss. Son. Then you conclude, my grandam, he is dead. Chil. Were never orphans had so dear a loss. The king mine uncle is to blame for it:
Duch. Was never mother had so dear a loss. God will revenge it; whom I will importune
Alas! I am the mother of these griefs : With earnest prayers all to that effect.
Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general. Daugh. And so will I.
She for an Edward weeps, and so do I; Duch. Peace, children, peace! the king doth love I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she:
These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I: Incapable and shallow innocents,
I for an Edward weep, so do not they :You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death. Alas! you three on me, threefold distress'a,
Son. Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloster Pour all your tears, I am your sorrow's nurse, Told me, the king, provok'd to it by the queen, And I will pamper it with lamentation. Devis'd impeachments to imprison him :
Dor. Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeas'd, And when my uncle told me so, he wept,
take with unthankfulness his doing. And pitied me, and kindly kiss'd my cheek;
In common worldly things, 'tis call'd ungrateful, Bade me rely on him, as on my father,
With dull unwillingness to repay a debt, And he would love me dearly as a child.
Which with a bounteous band was kindly lent;
Much more to be thus opposite with heaven,
you the news abroad? For it requires the royal debt it lent you.
Yes; that the king is dead.
Enter another Citizen.
Give you good morrow, sir. Enter Gloster, BUCKINGHAM, Stanley, Hastings, 3 Cit. Doth the news hold of good kingEdward's death? Ratcliffe, and others.
2 Cit. Ay, sir, it is too true; God help, the while ! Glo. Sister, have comfort: all of us have cause 3 Cit. Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. To wail the dimming of our shining star;
1 Cit. No, no; by God's good grace, his son shall reign. But none can help our harms by wailing them.- 3 Cit. Woe to that land that's govern'd by a child ! Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy;
2 Cit. In him there is a hope of government, I did not see your grace.-Humbly on my knee With, in his nonage, council under him; I crave your blessing.
[Kneels. And, in his full and ripen'd years, himself, Duch. God bless thee; and put meekness in thy breast, No doubt, shall then, and till then, govern well. Love, charity, obedience, and true duty.
1 Cit. So stood the state, when Henry the Sixth Glo. Amen; [Aside.] and make me die a good old was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. man!
3 Cit. Stood the state so? no, no, good friends, God That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing;
wot; I marvel, that her grace did leave it out.
For then this land was famously enrich'd Buck. You cloudy princes, and heart-sorrowing peers, With politic grave counsel : then the king That bear this heavy mutual load of moan,
Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace. Now cheer each other in each other's love:
1 Cit. Why, so hath this, both by his father and mother. Though we have spent our harvest of this king,
3 Cit. Better it were they all came by his father, We are to reap the harvest of his son.
Or by his father there were none at all; The broken rancour of your high-swoln hates, For emulation, who shall now be nearest, But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together, Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not. Must gently be preserv'd, cherish'd, and kept: 0! full of danger is the duke of Gloster; Me seemeth good, that, with some little train, And the queen's sons, and brothers, haught and proud: Forth with from Ludlow the young prince be fet And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule, Hither to London, to be crown'd our king.
This sickly land might solace as before. Riv. Why with some little train, my lord of Buck- 1 Cit. Come, come; we fear the worst: all will be ingham?
well. Buck. Marry, my lord, lest, by a multitude,
3 Cit. When clouds are seen, wise men put on their The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out;
cloaks ; Which would be so much the more dangerous, When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand : By how much the estate is green, and yet ungovern'd; When the sun sets, who doth not look for night? Where every horse bears his commanding rein, Untimely storms make men expect a dearth. And may direct his course as please himself,
All may be well; but, if God sort it so, As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent,
'Tis more than we deserve, or I expect. In my opinion, ought to be prevented.
2 Cit. Truly, the hearts of men are full of fear: Glo. I hope the king made peace with all of us; You cannot reason almost with a man And the compact is firm and true in me.
That looks not heavily, and full of dread. Riv. And so in me; and so, I think, in all:
3 Cit. Before the days of change, still is it so. Yet, since it is but green, it should be put
By a divine instinct men's minds mistrust To no apparent likelihood of breach,
Pursuing danger; as by proof we see Which, haply, by much company might be urg'd: The water swell before a boisterous storm. Therefore, I say with noble Buckingham,
But leave it all to God. Whither away? That it is meet so few should fetch the prince.
2 Cit. Marry, we were sent for to the justices. Hast. And so say I.
3 Cit. And so was I: I'll bear you company. Glo. Then be it so; and go we to determine
Ereunt. Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow.
SCENE IV.-London. A Room in the Palace. Madam, -and you my sister, - will you go To give your censures in this business?
Enter the Archbishop of York, the young Duke of York, [Exeunt all but Buckingham and Gloster.
Queen ELIZABETH, and the Duchess of York. Buck. My lord, whoever journeys to the prince, Arch. Last night, I heard, they lay at Stony-StratFor God's sake, let not us two stay at home;
ford, For by the way I'll sort occasion,
And at Northampton they do rest to-night: As index to the story we late talk'd of,
To-morrow, or next day, they will be here. To part the queen's proud kindred from the prince. Duch. I long with all my heart to see the prince :
Glo. My other self, my counsel's consistory, I hope, he is much grown since last I saw him. My oracle, my prophet !-My dear cousin,
Q. Eliz. But I hear, no : they say, my son of York I, as a child, will go by thy direction.
Hath almost overta'en him in his growth. Towards Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind. [Exeunt. York. Ay, mother, but I would not have it so. SCENE III.-The Same. A Street.
Duch. Why, my young cousin ? it is good to grow.
York. Grandam, one night, as we did sit at supper, Enter two Citizens, meeting.
My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow 1 Cit. Good morrow, neighbour: whither away so fast? More than my brother; “Ay," quoth my uncle Gloster, 2 Cit. I promise you, I scarcely know myself. “Small berbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace:"
And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast,
Duch. Who hath committed them? Because sweet flowers are slow, and weeds make haste. Mess,
The mighty dukes, Duch. 'Good faith, 'good faith, the saying did not | Gloster and Buckingham. hold
For what offence? In him that did object the same to thee:
Mess. The sum of all I can I have disclos'd : He was the wretched'st thing when he was young, Why, or for what, the nobles were committed, So long a growing, and so leisurely,
Is all unknown to me, my gracious lady.
Arch. And so, no doubt, he is, my gracious madam. The tiger now hath seiz’d the gentle hind;
York. Now, by my troth, if I had been remember'd, Upon the innocent and awless throne :
Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre ! To touch his growth nearer than he touch'd mine. I see, as in a map, the end of all. Duch. How, my young York? I pr’ythee, let me Duch. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days, hear it.
How many of you have mine eyes beheld? York. Marry, they say, my uncle grew so fast, My husband lost his life to get the crown; That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old : Too often up and down my sons were tost, 'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth.
For me to joy, and weep, their gain, and loss :
And being seated, and domestic broils
Make war upon themselves; brother to brother, Duch. His nurse! why, she was dead ere thou wast Blood to blood, self against self:-0! preposterous born.
And frantic outrage, end thy damned spleen; York. If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me. Or let me die, to look on death no more. Q. Eliz. A parlous boy. Go to, you are too shrewd. Q. Eliz. Come, come, my boy; we will to sancArch. Good madam, be not angry with the child.
tuary.-Q. Eliz. Pitchers have ears.
Stay, I will go with you. Arch. Here comes a messenger: what news with you? Q. Eliz. You have no cause. Mess. Such news, my lord, as grieves me to report. Arch. My gracious lady, go, [To the Queen. Q. Eliz. How doth the prince ?
And thither bear your treasure and your goods. Mess.
Well, madam, and in health. For my part, I'll resign unto your grace Duch. What is thy news?
The seal I keep: and so betide to me, Mess. Lord Rivers and lord Grey are sent to Pom- As well I tender you, and all of yours. fret,
Go; I'll conduct you to the sanctuary. [Exeunt. And with them sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners.
Prince. I thank you, good my lord; and thank you
[Exeunt Mayor, &c. The Trumpets sound. Enter the Prince of Wales, I thought my mother, and my brother York, Gloster, Buckingham, Cardinal Bourchier, and would long ere this have met us on the way: others.
Fie! what a slug is Hastings, that he comes not Buck. Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your To tell us whether they will come or no. chamber.
Enter Hastings. Glo. Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sove- Buck. And in good time here comes the sweating lord. reign :
Prince. Welcome, my lord. What, will our mother The weary way hath made you melancholy.
come? Prince. No, uncle; but our crosses on the way Hast. On what occasion, God he knows, not I, Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy: The queen your mother, and your brother York, I want more uncles here to welcome me.
Have taken sanctuary: the tender prince Glo. Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years Would fain have come with me to meet your grace, Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit:
But by his mother was perforce withheld. No more can you distinguish of a man,
Buck. Fie! what an indirect and peevish course Thản of his outward show; which, God he knows, Is this of hers.—Lord cardinal, will your grace Seldom, or never, jumpeth with the heart.
Persuade the queen to send the duke of York
If she deny, lord Hastings, go with him,
And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce. God keep you from them, and from such false friends! Card. My lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory Prince. God keep me from false friends! but they Can from his mother win the duke of York,
Anon expect him here ; but if she be obdurate Glo. My lord, the mayor of London comes to greet To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid
We should infringe the holy privilege you.
Enter the Lord Mayor, and his Train. Of blessed sanctuary ! not for all this land, May. God bless your grace with health and happy Would I be guilty of so great a sin. days!
Buck. You are too strict and abstinent, my lord,