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To make the blessed period of this peace.

Buck. And, in good time, here comes the noble duke".

Enter GLOSTER.

Glo. Good-morrow to my sovereign king, and queen; And, princely peers, a happy time of day!

K. Edw. Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day.— Gloster, we have done deeds of charity;

Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate,

Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.

Glo. A blessed labour, my most sovereign lord.— Among this princely heap, if

any here,

By false intelligence, or wrong surmise,
Hold me a foe;

If I unwittingly, or in my rage,

Have aught committed that is hardly borne

To any in this presence', I desire

To reconcile me to his friendly peace:
"Tis death to me, to be at enmity;

I hate it, and desire all good men's love.—
First, madam, I entreat true peace of you,
Which I will purchase with my duteous service;
Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham,
If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us;
Of you, and you, lord Rivers, and of Dorset,

That all without desert have frown'd on me;

4

the BLESSED period-] “Perfect period,” quartos.

5 And, in good time, here comes the noble duke.] So the quartos, correctly; but the folio reads,

"And in good time

Here comes Sir Richard Ratcliffe and the duke."

The stage-direction which follows in the folio is consistently, "Enter Ratcliffe and Gloster," but Gloster only appears to have entered. It is not easy to account for this discordance between the quartos and folio.

6 If I UNWITTINGLY, or in my rage,] The folio, by an easy misprint, has unwillingly, but all the quarto copies are right.

To any in this presence,] Prepositions, in the time of Shakespeare, were used with great licence; as in this instance, the quartos read "By any," &c. and the folios, " To any," &c.

Of you, lord Woodville, and lord Scales, of you;
Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all.

I do not know that Englishman alive,

With whom my soul is any jot at odds,
More than the infant that is born to-night:
I thank my God for my humility.

Q. Eliz. A holy day shall this be kept hereafter:-
I would to God, all strifes were well compounded.-
My sovereign lord, I do beseech your highness
To take our brother Clarence to your grace.

Glo. Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this,
To be so flouted' in this royal presence?
Who knows not, that the gentle duke is dead?

You do him injury to scorn his corse.

[They all start.

K. Edw. Who knows not, he is dead! who knows he is?

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 pre-

sence,

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 bare 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.

Of you, lord Woodville, and lord Scales, of you ;] This line is only found

in the folio.

To be so FLOUTED—] 1 But he, poor MAN,]

"To be so scorned," quartos.

"Poor soul," is the reading of the quartos.

Enter STANLEY.

Stan. A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! K. Edw. I pr'ythee, peace: my soul is full 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 life3; 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 tongue1 give pardon to a slave?
My brother kill'd no man, his fault was thought,
And yet his punishment was bitter death3.
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,

2 what is it thou REQUEST'ST.] The reading of the quartos is, "Then speak what is it thou demand'st."

3 The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life ;] i. e. Grant me my servant's life, which has become forfeit.

4 And shall THAT TONGUE-] "And shall the same," in the quartos.

5

-

was BITTER death.] "Cruel death," quartos. In the next line, the folio has, "in my wrath," and the quartos, “in my rage."

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 beholding to him in his life,
Yet none of you would once beg 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. Ah, poor
Clarence!

[Exeunt King, Queen, HASTINGS, Rivers, Dorset,
and GREY.

Glo. This is the fruit of rashness.-Mark'd you not, How that the guilty kindred of the queen

Look'd pale, when they did hear of Clarence' death?
O! they did urge it still unto the king:

God will revenge it. Come, lords; will you go',
To comfort Edward with our company?

Buck. We wait upon your grace.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

London.

Enter the Duchess of YORK, with a Son and Daughter of CLARENCE.

6

Son. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead?
Duch. No, boy.

once BEG for his life.] So the folio: the quartos have plead for " beg.” 7 Come, lords; will you go,]"But come, let's in," is the reading of the quartos, which leaves the measure incomplete. Buckingham's reply, "We wait upon your grace," is wanting in the quartos.

Daugh. Why do you weep so oft? and beat your

breast;

And cry-" O Clarence, my unhappy son!"

Son. Why do you look on us, and shake your head, And call us-orphans, wretches, cast-aways,

If that our noble father were alive?

Duch. My pretty cousins, you mistake me both",
I do lament the sickness of the king,

As loath to lose him, not your father's death.
It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost'.

Son. Then you conclude, my grandam, he is dead? The king mine uncle is to blame for it:

God will revenge it; whom I will importune

With earnest prayers all to that effect.

Daugh. And so will I.

Duch. Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well.

Incapable 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 it by the queen,
Devis'd impeachments to imprison him:
And when my uncle told me so, he wept,

And pitied me, and kindly kiss'd my cheek2;
Bade me rely on him, as on my father,

And he would love me dearly as a child.

Duch. Ah! that deceit should steal such gentle shape,

And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice3!

8 Why do you weep so oft?] The quartos have, "Why do you wring your hands?"

9 - you mistake me BOTH,]

"You mistake me much," quartos.

It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost.] The quartos give this line, "It were lost labour to weep for one that's lost."

2 And when my uncle told me so, he wept,

And pitied me, and kindly kiss'd my cheek ;] The quartos thus imperfectly represent these two lines ::

3

"And when he told me so, he wept,

And hugg'd me in his arm, and kindly kiss'd my cheek."

hide deep VICE !] "Deep guile" is the reading of the quartos.

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