2 Murd. 'Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me. 1 Murd. Remember our reward, when the deed's done. 2 Murd. Come, he dies; I had forgot the reward. 1 Murd. Where's thy conscience now? 2 Murd. In the duke of Gloster's purse. 1 Murd. So, when he opens his purse to give us our reward, thy conscience flies out. 2 Murd. 'Tis no matter; let it go; there's few, or none, will entertain it. 1 Murd. What we will do, we do upon command. 2 Murd. And he, that hath commanded, is our king. Clar. Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings 1 Murd. What, if it come to thee again? That thou shalt do no murder; Wilt thou then 1 Murd. 'Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me not to kill the duke. 2 Murd. Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him not: he would insinuate with thee, but to make thee sigh. 1 Murd. I am strong-fram'd, he cannot prevail with me. 2 Murd. Spoke like a tall fellow, that respects his reputation. Come, shall we fall to work? 1 Murd. Take him over the costard2 with the hilts of thy sword, and then throw him into the malmsey-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. 1 Murd. My voice is now the king's, my looks Clar. How darkly, and how deadly, dost thou Your eyes do menace me: Why look you pale? Clar. To murder me? Clar. You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so, 1 Murd. Offended us you have not, but the king. 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, When thou hast broke it in such dear degree? Clar. Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed? 1 Murd. Who made thee then a bloody minister, fault, Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee. Clar. If you do love my brother, hate not me; Clar. O, no; he loves me, and he holds me dear: Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm, 1 Murd. Ay, mill-stones; as he lesson'd us to Clar. O, do not slander him, for he is kind. 'Tis he that sends us to destroy you here. And hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs, That he would labour my delivery. 1 Murd. Why, so 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. 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? Ah, sirs, consider, he, that set you on To do this deed, will hate you for the deed. 2 Murd. What shall we do? Clar. Relent, and save your souls. 1 Murd. Relent! 'tis cowardly, and womanish. Clar. Not to relent, is beastly, savage, devilish.Which of you, if you were a prince's son, Being pent from liberty, as I am now,— If two such murderers as yourselves came to you,- My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks; Come thou on my side, and entreat for me, How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands 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; [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; For this will out, and then I must not stay. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE 1.-The same. A room in the palace. Enter King Edward (led in sick,) Queen Elizabeth, Dorset, Rivers, Hastings, Buckingham, Grey, and others. K. Edw. Why, so:-now have I done a good You peers, continue this united league : From my Redeemer to redeem me hence; And with my hand I seal my true heart's love. (1) Shut up. K. Edw. Take heed, you dally not before your king; Lest he, that is the supreme King of kings, 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, [Embraces Dorset. K. Edw. Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league 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 [Embracing Rivers, &c. K. Edw. A pleasing cordial, princely Bucking ham, Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. Enter Gloster. Glo. Good-morrow to my sovereign king, and queen; And, princely peers, a happy time of day! Brother, we have done deeds of charity; Glo. A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege.- If I unwittingly, or in my rage, I hate it, and desire all good men's love.- Q. Eliz. A holy-day shall this be kept hereafter: Q. Eliz. All-seeing heaven, what a world is this! Buck. Look I so pale, lord Dorset, as the rest? Dor. Ay, my good lord; and no man in the presence, But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. K. Edw. Is Clarence dead? the order was revers'd. Glo. But he, poor man, by your first order died, And that a winged Mercury did bear; Some tardy cripple bore the countermand, That came too lag to see him buried :God grant, that some, less noble, and less loyal, Nearer in bloody thoughts, and not in blood, Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, And yet go current from suspicion. Enter Stanley. Stan. A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! K. Edw. I pr'ythee, peace; my soul is ful! of sorrow. Stan. I will not rise, unless your highness hear me. K. Edw. Then say at once, what is it thou request'st. Stan. The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life; Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman, 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? My brother kill'd no man, his fault was thought, And yet his punishment was bitter death. Who sued to me for him? who, in my wrath, Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advis'd? Who spoke of brotherhood? who spoke of love? Who told me, how the poor soul did forsake The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? Who told me, in the field at Tewksbury, When Oxford had me down, he rescu'd me, And said, Dear brother, live, and be a king? Who told me, when we both lay in the field, Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me Even in his garments; and did give himself, All thin and naked, to the numb-cold night? All this from my remembrance brutish wrath Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you Had so much grace to put it in my mind. But when your carters, or your waiting-vassals, Have done a drunken slaughter, and defac'd The precious image of our dear Redeemer, You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; And I, unjustly too, must grant it you:But for my brother, not a man would speak,Nor I (ungracious) speak unto myself For him, poor soul.-The proudest of you all Have been beholden to him in his life; Yet none of you would once plead for his life.-O God! I fear thy justice will take hold On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this.Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. O, Poor Clarence! [Exeunt King, Queen, Hastings, Rivers, Dorset, and Grey. (1) Ignorant. Glo. This is the fruit of rashness!--Mark'd you How that the guilty kindred of the queen Daugh. Why do you weep so oft? and beat your breast; And cry-O Clarence, my unhappy son! And call us orphans, wretches, cast-aways, Duch. My pretty cousins, you mistake me both, Duch. Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well: Incapable1 and shallow innocents, You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death. Son. Grandam, we can: for my good uncle Gloster Told me, the king, provok'd to't by the queen, And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice! Duch. Ay, boy. Son. I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this? Enter Queen Elizabeth distractedly; Rivers, and Dorset, following her. Q. Eliz. Ah! who shall hinder me to wail and weep? To chide my fortune, and torment myself? Duch. What means this scene of rude impatience? If Duch. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow, As I had title in thy noble husband! I have bewept a noble husband's death, That grieves me when I see my shame in him. How can we aid you with our kindred tears? 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 I, being govern'd by the wat'ry moon, May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! Ah, for my husband, for my dear lord Edward! Chil. Ah, for our father, for our dear lord Cla rence! 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 parceil'd,1 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; 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 grave, And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. Enter Gloster, Buckingham, Stanley, Hastings, Ratcliff, and others. Glo. Sister, have comfort: all of us have cause To wail the dimming of our shining star, But none can cure their harms by wailing them. Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy, I did not see your grace :-Humbly on my knee I crave your blessing. Duch. God bless thee; and put meekness in thy breast, Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! Glo. Amen; and make me die a good old man!That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing; [Aside. I marvel, that her grace did leave it out. Buck. You cloudy princes, and heart-sorrowing Now cheer each other in each other's love: Riv. Why with some little train, my lord of Buck. Marry, my lord, lest by a multitude, Where every horse bears his commanding rein, Glo. I hope, the king made peace with all of us; And the compact is firm, and true, in me. Riv. And so in me; and so, I think, in all: Yet, since it is but green, it should be put To no apparent likelihood of breach, Which, haply, by much company might be urg'd: Therefore I say, with noble Buckingham, That it is meet so few should fetch the prince. Hast. And so say I. 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 As index3 to the story we late talk'd of, No doubt, shall then, and till then, govern well. 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: For emulation now, who shall be nearest, Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not. O, full of danger is the duke of Gloster; And the queen's sons, and brothers, haught and proud: 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; Mess. Enter a Messenger. Here comes a messenger: Such news, my lord, 2 Cit. Truly, the hearts of men are full of fear: As grieves me to unfold. You cannot reason2 almost with a man 3 Cit. Before the days of change, still is it so: 2 Cit. Marry, we were sent for to the justices. Q. Eliz. Mess. Lord Rivers, and lord Grey, are sent to With them sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners. Gloster and Buckingham. 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: Hath almost overta'en him in his growth. York. Ay, mother, but I would not have it so. My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow Duch. 'Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold In him that did object the same to thee: Q. Eliz. The mighty dukes, 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:- Duch. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days! My gracious lady, go. [To the Queen. And thither bear your treasure and your goods. (3) Perilous, dangerous. |