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Q. Mar. O, Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy mother, boy!
Canst thou not speak!-O traitors! murderers!
But, if you ever chance to have a child,
K. Edw. Away with her; go, bear her hence perforce.
Q. Mar. Nay, never bear me hence, despatch me here;
Here sheath thy sword, I'll pardon thee my death: What! wilt thou not?-then, Clarence, doit thou. Clar. By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease. Q. Mar. Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.
Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear, I would not do it?
Q.Mar. Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself; 'Twas sin before, but now 'tis charity. What! wilt thou not? where is that devil's butcher, Hard-favour'd Richard? Richard, where art thou? Thou art not here: Murder is thy alms-deed; Petitioners for blood thou ne'er put'st back.
K. Edw. Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her hence. Q. Mar. So come to you, and yours, as to this prince! [Exit, led out forcibly. K. Edw. Where's Richard gone? Clar. To London, all in post; and, as I guess, To make a bloody supper in the Tower.
K. Edw. He's sudden, if a thing comes in his head.
Now march we hence: discharge the common sort With pay and thanks, and let's away to London, And see our gentle queen how well she fares; By this, I hope, she hath a son for me. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI.-London. A room in the Tower.
King HENRY is discovered sitting with a book in his hand, the Lieutenant attending. Enter GLOSTER.
Glo. Good day, my lord! What, at your book so hard?
K. Hen. Ay, my good lord: My lord, I should say rather;
'Tis sin to flatter, good was little better: Good Gloster, and good devil, were alike, And both preposterous; therefore, not good lord. Glo. Sirrah, leave us to ourselves: we must [Exit Lieutenant.
K. Hen. So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf:
So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece, And next his throat unto the butcher's knife.What scene of death hath Roscius now to act?
Glo. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind; The thief doth fear each bush an officer.
K. Hen. The bird, that hath been limed in a bush,
With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush:
Glo. Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete,
K. Hen. I, Dædalus; my poor boy, Icarus; Thy father, Minos, that denied our course; The sun, that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy, Thy brother Edward; and thyself, the sea, Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life. Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words! My breast can better brook thy dagger's point, Than can my ears that tragic history.But wherefore dost thou come? is't for my life! Glo. Think'st thou, I am an executioner? K. Hen. A persecutor, I am sure, thou art; If murdering innocents be executing, Why, then thou art an executioner.
Glo. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption. K. Hen. Had'st thou been kill'd, when first
thou didst presume,
Thou hadst not liv'd to kill a son of mine. And thus I prophecy,—that many a thousand, Which now mistrust no parcel of my fear; And many an old man's sigh, and many a widow's, And many an orphan's water-standing eye,— Men for their sons, wives for their husbands" fate,
And orphans for their parents' timeless death,-
The raven rook'd her on the chimney's top,
And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope;
To signify, thou cam'st to bite the world:
Glo. I'll hear no more;-Die, prophet, in thy
For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd.
O God! forgive my sins, and pardon thee! [Dies.
See, how my sword weeps for the poor king's
O, may such purple tears be always shed
Be resident in men like one another,
| Re-purchas'd with the blood of enemies.
With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and
That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion,
Glo. I'll blast his harvest, if your head were
For yet I am not look'd on in the world.
Clarence, beware; thou keep'st me from the light; And cried-all hail! when as he meant
But I will sort a pitchy day for thee:
SCENE VII.—The same. A room in the palace.
K. Edw. Once more we sit in England's royal
K. Edw. Now am I seated as my soul delights, Having my country's peace, and brothers' loves. Clar. What will your grace have done with
Reignier, her father, to the king of France
K. Edw. Away with her, and waft her hence
And now what rests, but that we spend the time
For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.
KING RICHARD III.
King EDWARD the Fourth.
afterwards K. RICHARD III. S
PERSONS OF THE DRAMA.
Sir WILLIAM CATESBY. Sir JAMES TYRREL. Sir JAMES BLOUNT. Sir WALTER HERBERT. sons to the King. Sir ROBERT BRAKENBURY, lieutenant of the Tower.
brothers to the King.
A young Son of CLARENCE.
CHRISTOPHER URSWICK, a priest. Another Priest.
Lord Mayor of London. Sheriff of Wiltshire.
ELIZABETH, queen of king EDWARD IV. Duchess of YORK, mother to king EDWARD IV., MARGARET, widow of king HENRY VI. CLARENCE, and GLOSTER.
Lady ANNE, widow of EDWARD prince of WALES, son to king HENRY VI.; afterwards married to the duke of GLOSTER.
A young Daughter of CLARENCE.
Lords, and other Attendants; two Gentlemen, a Pursuivant, Scrivener, Citizens, Murderers, Messengers, Ghosts, Soldiers, &c.
SCENE I.-London. A Street.
Glo. Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds, that lower'd upon our house, In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY. Brother, good day: What means this armed guard,
That waits upon your grace?
Clar. His majesty,
Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed
Clar. Because my name is-George.
Glo. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours;
He should, for that, commit your godfathers :-
As yet I do not: But, as I can learn,
'Tis not the king, that sends you to the Tower;
But the queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds
That trudge betwixt the king and mistress Shore.
Glo: Humbly complaining to her deity,
Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon me; His majesty hath straitly given in charge, That no man shall have private conference, Of what degree soever, with his brother.
Glo. Even so? an please your worship, Bra◄ kenbury,
You may partake of any thing we say:
A bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue;
Brak. With this, my lord, myself have nought to do.
Glo. Naught to do with mistress Shore? I tell thee, fellow,
He that doth naught with her, excepting one,
Glo. Her husband, knave :-Would'st thou betray me?
Brak. I beseech your grace to pardon me; and, withal,
Forbear your conference with the noble duke. Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and
Glo. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey. Brother, farewell: I will unto the king; And whatsoe'er you will employ me in,Were it to call king Edward's widow-sister,I will perform it to enfranchise you. Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood, Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well. Glo. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;
I will deliver you, or else lie for you:
'Clar. I must perforce; farewell.
[Exeunt Clarence, Brakenbury, and Guards. Glo. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er
Simple, plain Clarence !-I do love thee so,
Hast. Good time of day unto my gracious lord! Glo. As much unto my good lord chamberlain! Well are you welcome to this open air. How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment? Hast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners
But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks,
For they, that were your enemies, are his,
While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.
Glo. What news abroad?
Hast. Nonews so bad abroad, as this at home;The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy, And his physicians fear him mightily.
Glo. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad
O, he hath kept an evil diet long,
Hast. He is.
Glo. Go you before, and I will follow you. [Exit Hastings.
He cannot live, I hope; and must not die,
I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
By marrying her, which I must reach unto.
When they are gone, then must I count my gains. Exit.
SCENE IL-The same. Another Street. Enter the corpse of King HENRY the Sixth, borne in an open coffin, Gentlemen bearing halberds, to guard it; and Lady ANNE as mourner. Anne. Set down, set down your honourable load,
If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,-
Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!
Lo, in these windows, that let forth thy life,
Glo. Stay you, that bear the corse, and set it down.
Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend,
To stop devoted charitable deeds?
Glo. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul,
I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.
1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.
Glo. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I
Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.
[The Bearers set down the coffin. Anne. What, do you tremble? are you all afraid? Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortal, And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.— Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell! Thou had'st but power over his mortal body, His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone. Glo. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and