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Buck. Have done, have done!

Q. Mar. O princely Buckingham, I kiss thy hand,
In sign of league and amity with thee:
Now fair befall thee, and thy noble house!
Thy garments are not spotted with our blood,
Nor thou within the compass of my curse.
Buck. Nor no one here; for curses never pass
The lips of those, that breathe them in the air.
Q. Mar. I'll not believe, but they ascend the sky,
And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace.
O Buckingham, beware of yonder dog!
Look, when he fawns, he bites; and, when he bites,
His venom tooth will rankle to the death.
Have not to do with him, beware of him!

Sin, death, and hell, have set their marks on him
And all their ministers attend on him.

Glo. What doth she say, my lord of Buckingham?
Buck. Nothing, that I respect, my gracious lord.
Q. Mar. What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle
counsel?

When you have done, repair to Crosby-place!
But, sirs, be sudden in the execution,
Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead!
For Clarence is well spoken, and, perhaps,
May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him.
1 Murd. Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand to
prate.

[Exit.

And sooth the devil, that I warn thee from?
O, but remember this another day,
When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow;
And say, poor Margaret was a prophetess.
Live each of you the subjects to his hate,
And he to yours, and all of you to God's!
Hast. My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses.
Riv.And so doth mine; I muse, why she's at liberty.
Glo. I cannot blame her, by God's holy mother;
She hath had too much wrong, and I repent
My part thereof, that I have done to her.

Q. Eliz. I never did her any, to my knowledge.
Glo. Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong.
I was too hot to do somebody good,
That is too cold in thinking of it now.
Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid;
He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains;
God pardon them, that are the cause thereof!
Riv. A virtuous and a christian-like conclusion!
To pray for them that have done scath to us.
Glo. So do I ever, being well advis'd; -

Talkers are no good doers; be assur'd,
We go to use our hands, and not our tongues.
Glo. Your eyes drop mill-stones, when fools' eyes
drop tears:

I like you, lads; · about your business straight!
Go, go, dispatch!

For had I curs'd now, I had curs'd myself. [Aside.
Enter CATESBY.

-

1 Murd. We will, my noble lord.
SCENE IV.

-

[Exeunt.

The same. A room in the Tower.
Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY.
Brak. Why looks your grace so heavily to day?
Clar. O, I have pass'd a miserable night,
So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights,
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!

Cates. Madam, his majesty doth call for you,
And for your grace, and you, my noble lords.
Q. Eliz. Catesby, I come. Lords, will you go

with me?

Riv. Madam, we will attend upon your grace.
[Exeunt all but Gloster.
Glo. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl.
The secret mischiefs, that I set abroach,
I lay unto the grievous charge of others.
Clarence, whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness,
I do beweep to many simple gulls;
Namely, to Stanley, Hastings, Buckingham;
And tell them-'tis the queen and her allies,
That stir the king against the duke my brother.
Now they believe it, and withal whet me
To be reveng'd on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey:
But then I sigh, and with a piece of scripture,
Tell them, that God bids us do good for evil:
And thus I clothe my naked villainy
With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ,
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.
Enter two Murderers.

But soft, here come my executioners.

How now, my hardy, stout, resolved mates?

Are you now going to dispatch this thing?

Clar. Methought, that I had broken from the Tower,
And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy;
And, in my company, my brother Gloster,
Who from my cabin tempted me to walk
Upou the hatches; thence we look'd toward England,
And cited up a thousand heavy times,
During the wars of York and Lancaster,
That had befall'n us. As we pac'd along
Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
Methought, that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling,
Struck me, that thought to stay him, over-board,
Into the tumbling billows of the main.

O Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of water in mine ears!
What sights of ugly death within mine eyes!
Methought, I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
A thousand men, that fishes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,

All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea:

Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in those holes,
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept
(As 'twere in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems,
That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep,
And mock'd the dead bones, that lay scatter'd by
Brak. Had you such leisure in the time of death
To gaze upon these secrets of the deep?
Clar. Methought, I had; and often did I strive
To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood
Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth
To seek the empty, vast, and wand'ring air,
But smother'd it within my panting bulk,
Which almost burst to belch it in the sea.
Brak. Awak'd you not with this sore agony?
Clar. O, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life.
O, then began the tempest to my soul!
I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood
With that grim ferryman, which poets write of,
Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.
The first, that there did greet my stranger soul,
Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick;
Who cry'd aloud: What scourge for perjury
Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?

1 Murd. We are, my lord, and come to have the And so he vanish'd. Then came wand'ring by

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A shadow, like an angel, with bright hair
Dabbled in blood, and he shriek'd out aloud:
Clarence is come.
- false, fleeting, perjur'd Clar-

ence,

That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury;-
Seize on him, furies, take him to your torments!·
With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends
Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears
Such hideous cries, that with the very noise
I trembling wak'd, and, for a season after,
Could not believe, but that I was in hell;
Such terrible impression made my dream!
Brak. No marvel, lord, though it affrighted you;
I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.
Clar. O, Brakenbury, I have done these things,
That now give evidence against my soul,
For Edward's sake; and, see, how he requites me!-
O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee,
But thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds,
Yet execute thy wrath on me alone!

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 Mard. 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 de

O, spare my guiltless wife, and my poor children!-tects him. 'Tis a blushing shame-faced spirit, that

I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me!
My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.

Brak. I will, my lord; God give your grace good
rest!

[Clarence reposes himself on a chair.
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,
There's nothing differs, but the outward fame.
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. O, sir, 'tis better to be brief, than tedi

ous.

Let him see our commission; talk no more!

[A paper is delivered to Brakenbury, who
reads it.

Brak, I am in this commanded to deliver
The noble duke of Clarence to your hands.
I will not reason, what is meant hereby,
Because I will be guiltless of the meaning.
Here are the keys; — there sits the duke asleep:
I'll to the king and signify to him,

That thus I have resign'd to you my charge.
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; he'll say, 'twas done cowardly, when
he wakes.

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 live without it.

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 costard with the hilt of thy sword, and then throw him into the malmseybutt, 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.

Clar. Thy voice is thunder,but thy looks are humble. 1 Murd. My voice is now the king's, my looks mine

own.

Clar. How darkly, and how deadly dost thou speak!
Your eyes do menace me. Why look you pale?
Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come?
Both Murd. To, to, to,-
Clar. To murder me?
Both Murd. Ay, ay.

Clar. You scarcely have the hearts, to tell me so,

2 Murd. When he wakes! why, fool, he shall ne-And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. ver wake until the great judgment day.

1 Murd. Why, then he'll say, we stabb'd 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 damn'd for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend me.

1 Murd. I thought, thou had'st 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 pr'ythee, stay a little! I hope this holy humour of mine will change; it was wont to hold me but while one would tell twenty. 1 Murd. How dost thou feel thyself now?

Wherein, my friends, have I offended you?

1 Murd. Offended as you have not, but the king.
Clar. I shall be reconcil'd to him again.

2 Murd. Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die!
Clar. Are you call'd forth from out a world of men,
To slay the innocent? What is my offence?
Where is the evidence, that doth accuse me?
What lawful quest have given their verdict up
Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounc'd
The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death?
Before I be convict by course of law,
To threaten me with death, is most unlawful.
I charge you, as you hope for any goodness,
By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sing,
That you depart, and lay no hands on me;
The deed, you undertake, is damnable.

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
Hath in the table of his law commanded,
That thou shalt do no murder; wilt thou then
Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's?
Take heed! for he holds vengeance in his hand,
To hurl upon their heads, that break his law.

2 Murd. And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee,

For false forswearing, and for murder too:
Thou didst receive the sacrament, to fight
In quarrel of the house of Lancaster.

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 urgeGod's dreadful law to us, When thou hast broke it in such dear degree?

Clar. Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed?
For Edward, for my brother, for his sake.
He sends you not to murder me for this;
For in that sin he is as deep, as I.
If God will be avenged for the deed,
O, know you, that he doth it publicly!
Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm!
He needs no indirect, nor lawless course,
To cut off those, that have offended him.

| Being pent from liberty, as I am now,-
If two such murderers, as yourselves, came to you,—
Would not entreat for life?

1 Murd. Who made thee then a bloody minister, When gallant-springing, brave Plantagenet, That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? Clar. My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. 1 Murd. Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee.

Clar. If you do love my brother, hate not me!
I am his brother, and I love him well.
If you are hir'd for meed, go back again,
And I will send you to my brother Gloster,
Who shall reward you better for my life,
Than Edward will for tidings of my death.

My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks;
O, if thine eye be not a flatterer,
Come thou on my side, and entreat for me,
As you would beg, were you in my
distress.
A begging prince what beggar pities not?
2 Murd. Look behind you, my lord!

2 Murd. You are deceiv'd, your brother Gloster hates you.

Clar. O, no; he loves me, and he holds me dear. Go you to him from me!

Both Murd. Ay, so we will.

1 Murd. Take that, and that; if all this will not
do,
[Stabs him.

I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within.

Clar. Tell him, when that our princely father York
Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm,
And charg'd us from his soul, to love each other,
He little thought of this divided friendship.
Bid Gloster think on this, and he will weep.

[Exit, with the body.
2 Murd. A bloody deed, and desperately dispatched!
How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands
Of this most grievous guilty murder done!
Re-enter first Murderer.

1 Murd. Ay, mill-stones, as he lesson'd us to weep.
Clar. O, do not slander him, for he is kind.
1 Murd. Right, as snow in harvest !-Come, you de-
ceive yourself;

'Tis he, that sends us to destroy you here.

Clar. It cannot be; for he bewept my fortune, And hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs, That he would labour my delivery.

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! For I repent me, that the duke is slain.

[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.

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 murdering 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,

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You peers, continue this united league!
I every day expect an embassage
From my Redeemer to redeem me hence;
And more in peace my soul shall part to heaven,
Since I have made my friends at peace on earth.
Rivers, and Hastings, take each other's hand;
Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love!
Riv.By heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate
And with my hand I seal my true heart's love.
Hast. So thrive I, as I truly swear the like!
K. Edw. Take heed, you dally not before your king,
Lest he, that is the supreme King of kings,
Confound your hidden falsehood, and award
Either of you to be the other's end!

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 factions one against the other.
Wife, love lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand,
And what you do, do it unfeignedly!

Q.Eliz. There,Hastings ;-Iwill 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, Upon my part shall be inviolable.

Hast. And so swear I.

[Embraces Dorset. K. Edw. Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league,

With thy embracements to my wife's allies,
And make me happy in your unity!

Buck. Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate Upon your grace, [To the Queen.] but with all duteous

love

W

D

B

Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me
With hate in those, where I expect most love!
When I have most need to employ a friend,
And most assured, that he is a friend,
Deep, hollow, treacherons, and full of guile,
Be he unto me! this do I beg of heaven,
When I am cold in love, to you, or yours.

[Embracing Rivers, etc.
K. Edw. A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham,
Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart.
There wanteth now our brother Gloster here,
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!
Brother, 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 liege!
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
By 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 lodged between us;-
Of you, Lord Rivers, and lord Grey, of you,
That all without desert have frown'd on me;
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?
[They all start.

You do him injury, to scorn his corse.
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 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 full of sorrow.
Stan. I will not rise, uuless your highness hear me.
K. Edw. Then say at once, what is it thou request'st?
Stun. The forfeit, sovereign, of my servaut's life;
Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman,
Lately attendant on the duke of Norfolk.

K. Edw. Have la 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 garment, 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! 0,
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.

SCENE II. The same.

[Exeunt.

Enter the Duchess of YORK, with a Son and Daugh-
ter of CLARENCE.

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

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 be 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, grandam, you conclude, that he is dead.
The king my uncle is to blame for this.
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't 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 cheek;
Bade me rely on him, as on my father,
And he would love me dearly, as his child.

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Duch. Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice!

He is my son, ay, and therein my shame,
Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit.
Son. Think you, my uncle did dissemble, grandam?
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?
I'll join with black despair against my soul,
And to myself become au euemy,

Duch. What means this scene of rude impatience?
Q. Eliz. To make an act of tragic violence:
Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead.--
Why grow the branches, when the root is gone?
Why wither not the leaves, that want their cap?
If you will live, lament! if die, be brief!
That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's,
Or, like obedient subjects, follow him
To his new kingdom of perpetual rest.

Duch. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow, As I had title in thy noble husband.

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
crave your blessing.

I

Duch. God bless thee, and put meekness in thy
breast,

Love, charity, obedience, and true duty!

I have bewept a worthy kusband's death,
Aud liv'd by looking on his images;
But now, two mirrors of his princely semblance
Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death,
And I for comfort have but one false glass,
That grieves me, when I see my shame in him.
Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother,
And hast the comfort of thy children left thee:
But death hath suatch'd my husband from my arms,
And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble hands,
Clarence, and Edward. O, what cause have I,
(Thine being but a moiety of my grief,)
To over-go thy plaints, and drown thy cries?
Son. Ah, aunt! you wept not for our father's death;
How can we aid you with our kindred tears?
Daugh. Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd,
Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept!

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

peers,

That bear this mutual heavy load of moan,
Now cheer each other in each other's love!
Though we have spent our harvest of this king,
We are to reap the harvest of his son.
The broken rancour of your high-swoln hearts,
But lately splinted, knit, and join'd together,
Must gently be preserv'd, cherish'd, and kept:
Me seemeth good, that, with some little train,
Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetch'd
Hither to London to be crown'd our king.

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 watry 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 Clarence!
Duch. Alas, for both,both mine, Edward and Clarence!
Q. Eliz. What stay had I, but Edward? and he's
gone.

Chil. What stay had we, but Clarence? and he's

gone.

Duch. What stays had I, but they? and they are 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 parcell'd, 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.

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Riv. Why with some little train, my lord of Buckingham?

Buck. Marry, my lord, lest by a multitude, The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out; Which would be so much the more dangerous, By how much the estate is green, and yet ungovern'd: Where every horse bears his commanding rein, And may direct his course as please himself, As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent, In my opinion, ought to be prevented. Glo. I hope, the king made peace with all of us; And the compáct 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.

Dor. Comfort, dear mother! God is much displeas'd,
That you take with unthankfulness his doing;
In common worldly things, 'tis called ungrateful,
With dull unwillingness to repay a debt,
Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent;
Much more to be thus opposite with heaven,
For it requires the royal debt, it lent you.

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 To give your censures in this weighty business?

[Exeunt all but Buckingham and Gloster.
Buck. My lord, whoever journeys to the prince,
For God's sake, let not us two stay at home!
For, by the way, I'll sort occasion,

As index to the story, we late talk'd of,
To part the queen's proud kindred from the prince.
Glo. My other self, my counsel's consistory,
My oracle, my prophet! My dear cousin,
I, as a child, will go by thy direction.
Towards Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind.
[Exeunt.

--

SCENE III. The same.
A street.
Enter two Citizens, meeting,

1 Cit. Good morrow, neighbour! Whither away

fast?

2 Cit. I promise you, I scarcely know myself. Hear you the news abroad?

1 Cit. Yes; the king's dead,

A

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