Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch, Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. Are clamorous groans, which strike upon my heart, Enter Keeper, with a dish. Keep. My lord, will 't please you to fall to? K. Rich. Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do. 120 130 Keep. My lord, I dare not. Sir Pierce of Exton, who lately came from the king, commands the contrary. K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee! Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. Keep. Help, help, help! K. Rich. [Beats the keeper. Enter EXTON and Servants, armed. 141 How now! what means death in this rude assault? Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument. [Snatching an axe from a Servant and killing him. Go thou, and fill another room in hell. [He kills another. Then Exton strikes him down. That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire Both have I spill'd. O would the deed were good! [Dies, 150 [Exeunt. RICHARD, Duke brothers the King. of Gloucester, JOHN MORTON, Bishop of Ely. EARL OF SURREY, his son. MARQUIS OF DORSET and LORD HASTINGS. LORD STANLEY. LORD LOVEL. SIR RICHARD RATCLIFF. SIR JAMES BLOUNT. ELIZABETH, queen to King MARGARET, widow of King DUCHESS OF YORK, mother to LADY ANNE, widow of Ed- SCENE: England. beth. ACT I. London. A street. Enter RICHARd, Duke of GLOUCESTER, solus. Glou. Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings; Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here Clarence comes. Brother, good day: what means this arméd guard Clar. His majesty, Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed Glou. Upon what cause? Clar. Because my name is George. Glou. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours; He should, for that, commit your godfathers. But what's the matter, Clarence? May I know? Clar. Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest As yet I do not: but, as I can learn, He hearkens after prophecies and dreams; And from the cross-row plucks the letter G, His issue disinherited should be; And, for my name of George begins with G, It follows in his thought that I am he. Glou. Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by women: "Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower; My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she That tempers him to this extremity. We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe. Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon me; His majesty hath straitly given in charge That no man shall have private conference, 50 Glou. Even so; an 't please your worship, Brakenbury, We speak no treason, man: we say the king Brak. With this, my lord, myself have nought to do. I beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal Forbear your conference with the noble duke. Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. I will deliver you, or else lie for you: Meantime, have patience. Clar. I must perforce. Farewell. 60 [Exeunt Clarence, Brakenbury, and Guard. Glou. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return, Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so, That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, If heaven will take the present at our hands. But yet I run before my horse to market: 70 Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns: When they are gone, then must I count my gains Another street. [Exit. Enter the corpse of KING HENRY the Sixth, Gentlemen with halberds to guard it; LADY ANNE being the mourner. Anne. Set down, set down your honourable load. Poor key-cold figure of a holy king! Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster! Curs'd be the hands that made these fatal holes! 80 As I am made by my poor lord and thee! As miserable by the death of him, Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load Enter GLOUCESTER. Glou. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. Glou. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys. Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. Glou. Unmanner'd dog! stand thòu, when I command: Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot. Anne. What, do you tremble? Are you all afraid ? vaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell! Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone. Glou. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. 90 Anne. Foul dèvil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not. If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, Behold this pattern of thy butcheries. No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. Glou. But I know none, and therefore am no beast Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, Of these supposéd evils, to give me leave, By circumstance, but to acquit myself. Anne. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make No excuse current, but to hang thyself. Glou. By such despair, I should accuse myself. Anne. And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excus'd. Didst thou not kill this king? Glou. I grant ye. Anne. O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous! Anne. And thou unfit for any place but hell. Anne. Thou art the cause, and most accurs'd effect. So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. Glou. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. I never sued to friend nor enemy; My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing words; 100 110 120 130 |