Glo. What doth fhe fay, my Lord of Buckingham? And footh the devil, that I warn thee from? When he shall fplit thy very heart with forrow; [Exit. Buck. My hair doth ftand on end to hear her curses. Dorf. I never did her any to my knowledge. Enter Catefby. Catef. Madam, his Majefty doth call for you, And for your Grace, and you, my noble Lord. 9 He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains.] A Frank is an old English word for a hog-fty. 'Tis poffible he ufes this metaphor to Clarence, in allufion to the creft of the family of York, which was a Boar. Whereto [Afide. relate those famous old verses on Richard III. The cat, the rat, and Lovel the dog Rule all England under a hog. He uses the fame metaphor in the laft fcenc of act 4. POPE. Queen Queen. Catesby, we come; Lords, will you go with us? . Riv. Madam, we will attend your Grace. [Exeunt all but Gloucefter. Glo. I do the wrong, and firft begin to brawl. Namely to Stanley, Haftings, Buckingham; With old odd ends, ftol'n forth of holy Writ, Enter two Murderers. But foft, here come my executioners. 1 Vil. We are, my Lord, and come to have the • Warrant, That we may be admitted where he is. Glo. Well thought upon, I have it here about me: When you have done, repair to Crosby-place. But, Sirs, be fudden in the execution, May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him. Vil. Fear not, my Lord, we will not ftand to prate; Talkers are no good doers; be affur'd, We go to ufe our hands, and not our tongues. Gla. Glo. Your eyes drop mill-ftones, when fools' eyes drop tears. I like Brak. you, lads-about your business-go. [Exeunt. SCE N E V. Changes to the Tower. Enter Clarence and Brakenbury. WH 1 HY looks your Grace fo heavily to day? Clar. O, I have past a miserable night, So full of ugly fights, of ghaftly dreams, That, as I am a chriftian faithful man, I would not spend another fuch 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 cross to Burgundy, And in my company my brother Glofter, Upon the Hatches. Thence we look'd tow'rd England, Lord, Lord, methought, what pain it was to drown! Some lay in dead men's fkulls; and in thofe holes, Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, As 'twere in fcorn of Eyes, reflecting Gems; 2 That woo'd the flimy bottom of the Deep, And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by. Brak. Had you fuch leifure in the time of death, To gaze upon the Secrets of the Deep? Clar. Methought, I had; and often did I ftrive I paft, methought, the melancholy flood, The first that there did greet my ftranger foul, Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments!- Brak. No marvel, Lord, that it affrighted you; 2 That woo'd the fimy bottom.] By feeming to gaze upon it. 3 Fleeting is the fame as changing fides. I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it. Clar. Ah! Brakenbury, I have done thofe things, For Edward's fake; and, fee, how he requites me! O, fpare my guiltlefs wife, and my poor children! My foul is heavy, and I fain would fleep. Brak. I will, my Lord; God give your Grace good [Clarence fleeps. $ Sorrow breaks seasons and repofing hours, reft! Makes the night morning, and the noon tide night, They often feel a world of restless cares: SCENE VI. Enter the two Murderers. 1 Vil. Ho, who's there? Brak. In God's name, what art thou? how cam'st |