May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him. 1 Murd. Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand to prate; Talkers are no good doers: be assured We come to use our hands and not our tongues. Glo. Your eyes drop millstones, when fools' eyes drop tears: I like lads ;-about you, Go, go, dispatch. your business straight; 1 Murd. We will, my noble lord. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-London. A Room in the Tower. Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY. Brak. Why looks your grace so heavily to-day? Clar. O, I have passed a miserable night, So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days,— So full of dismal 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 embarked to cross to Burgundy ; And cited up a thousand fearful times, That had befall'n us. As we paced along Methought that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling, Lord, Lord, methought, what pain it was to drown! All scattered in the bottom of the sea: Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes Clar. Methought I had; and often did I strive O, then began the tempest to my soul, ? The first that there did greet my stranger soul Was my great father-in law, renowned Warwick; Who cried aloud, 'What scourge for perjury Clarence ; perjured That stabbed me in the field by Tewksbury;- Clar. O Brakenbury, I have done those things Which now bear evidence against my soul, For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me !-- O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children!-- My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. Brak. I will, my lord: God give your grace good rest! [Clarence sleeps. Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing 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 Enter the two Murderers. 1 Murd. Ho! who's here? Brak. What would'st thou, fellow and how cam'st thou hither? 1 Murd. I would speak with Clarence and I came hither on my legs. Brak. What, so brief? 2 Murd. 'Tis better, sir, than to be tedious. Let him see our commission; talk no more. [Brakenbury reads it. Brak. I am, in this, commanded to deliver That thus I have resigned my charge to you. 1 Murd. You may, sir, 'tis a point of wisdom: fare you well. Exit Brakenbury. 2 Murd. What, shall we stab him as he sleeps? 1 Murd. No; then he will say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes. 2 Murd. When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake till the judgment-day. 1 Murd. Why, then he'll say we stabbed him sleeping. 2 Murd. The urging of that word 'judgment' hath bred a kind of remorse in me. 1 Murd. What, art thou afraid? 2 Murd. Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be damned for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend us. 1 Murd. I thought thou hadst been resolute. 2 Murd. So I am, to let him live. 1 Murd. I'll back to the Duke of Gloster, and tell him so. 2 Murd. Nay, I prithee, stay a little; I hope my holy humour will change; 'twas wont to hold me but while one tells twenty. 1 Murd. How dost thou feel thyself now? 2 Murd. Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me. 1 Murd. Remember our reward when the deed's done. 2 Murd. Zounds, 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 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 steal, but it accuseth 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 shamefast spirit that mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold that by chance I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it is turned out of all towns and cities for a dangerous thing; and every man that means to live well endeavours to trust to himself and to live without it. |