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Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
And if thy poor devoted servant may
Glo. That it may please you leave these sad
To him that hath more cause to be a mourner,
Anne. With all my heart; and much it joys
To see you are become so penitent.-
Anne. 'Tis more than you deserve:
[Exeunt Lady ANNE, TRESSEL, and
Glo. Take up the corse, Sirs.
[Exeunt the rest, with the corse. Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? Was ever woman in this humour won? I'll have her,-but I will not keep her long. What! I, that kill'd her husband, and his father,
To take her in her heart's extremest hate;
And I no friends to back my suit withal,
Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
The spacious world cannot again afford:
And made her widow to a woeful bed?
On me, whose all not equals Edwards moiety?
That I may see my shadow as I pass.
* In Bishopsgate-street.
SCENE III.-The same.--A Room in the Palace.
Enter Queen ELIZABETH, Lord RIVERS, and Lord GREY.
Riv. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt his majesty
Will soon recover his accustom'd health.
[fort, Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comAnd cheer his grace with quick and merry words.
Q. Eliz. If he were dead, what would betide of me?
Grey. No other harm, but loss of such a lord. Q. Eliz. The loss of such a lord includes all harms.
Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son,
To be your comforter, when he is gone.
Q. Eliz. Ah, he is young; and his minority Is put into the trust of Richard Gloster, A man that loves not me, nor none of you.
Riv. Is it concluded, he shall be protector? Q. Eliz. It is determin'd, not concluded yet: But so it must be, if the king miscarry.
Enter BUCKINGHAM and STANLEY.
Grey. Here come the lords of Buckingham and Stanley.
Buck, Good time of day unto your royal grace!
Stan. God make your majesty joyful as you have been!
Q. Eliz. The countess Richmond, good my lord of Stanley,
To your good prayer will scarcely say-amen. Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife, And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd, I hate not you for her proud arrogance.
Stan. I do beseech you, either not believe The envious slanders of her false accusers; Or, if she be accus'd on true report, Bear with her weakness, which, I think, proceeds [lice. From wayward sickness, and no grounded maQ. Eliz. Saw you the king to-day, my lord of
Stan. But now, the duke of Buckingham, Are come from visiting his majesty. [and I, Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment,
Buck. Madam, good hope: his grace speaks cheerfully.
Q. Eliz. God grant him health! Did you confer with him?
Buck. Ay, madam: he desires to make atone
Between the duke of Gloster and your brothers, And between them and my lord chamberlain; And sent to warn them to his presence.
Q. Eliz. Would all were well!-But that will never be ;
I fear, our happiness is at the height.
Enter GLOSTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET. Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it :
Who are they, that complain unto the king,
Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,
Grey. To whom in all this presence speaks your grace!
Glo. To thee, that hast nor honesty, nor grace. [wrong?When have 1 injur'd thee? when done thee Or thee?-or thee?-or any of your faction? A plague upon you all! His royal grace,— Whom God preserve better than you would
The king, of his own royal disposition,
The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it.
bad, That wrens may prey where eagles dare not perch:
Since every Jack+ became a gentleman,
Q. Eliz. Come, come, we know your meaning, brother Gloster;
You envy my advancement, and my friends;
Our brother is imprison'd by your means,
That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble.
Q. Eliz. By Him, that rais'd me to this careful height
From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,
Of my lord Hastings' late imprisonment.
Glo. She may, lord Rivers?-Why, who
knows not so?
She may do more, Sir, than denying that:
Riv. What, marry, may she?
Glo. What, marry, may she? marry with a A bachelor, a handsome stripling too: [king, I wis, your grandam had a worser match. Q. Eliz. My lord of Gloster, I have too long borne [scoffs: Your blunt upbraidings, and your bitter By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty, Of those gross taunts I often have endur'd.
I had rather be a country servant-maid,
Enter Queen MARGARET, behind.
Q. Mar. And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee!
Thy honour, state, and seat, is due to me.
Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have
Glo. Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband king,
I was a pack-horse in his great affairs;
To royalizet his blood, I spilt my own.
Q. Mur. Ay, and much better blood than his, or thine.
Glo. In all which time, you, and your husband Grey,
Were factious for the house of Lancaster;And, Rivers, so were you: Was not your
In Margaret's battle Saint Albans slain? Let me put in your minds, if you forget, [are; What you have been ere now, and what you Withal, what I have been, and what I am.
Q. Mar. A murd'rous villain, and so still thou art.
Glo. Poor Clarence did forsake his father Warwick,
Ay, and forswore himself, Which Jesu pardon!
Q. Mar. Which God revenge!
Glo. To fight on Edward's party, for the [up: And, for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'ag I would to God, my heart were flint like Ed
Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof! Q. Eliz. As little joy, my lord, as you suppose, [king; You should enjoy, were you this country' As little joy you may suppose in me, That I enjoy, being the queen thereof.
Q. Mar. A little joy enjoys the queen thereFor I am she, and altogether joyless. of;
I can no longer hold me patient.- [Advancing. Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out In sharing that which you have pill'd¶ from Which of you trembles not, that looks on me?
If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects;
Yet that, by you depos'd, you quake like rebels?
Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away!
Glo. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in my sight?
Q. Mar. But repetition of what thou hast marr'd;
That will I make, before I let thee go.
Glo. Wert thou not banished on pain of death?
Q. Mar. I was; but I do find more pain in banishment,
Than death can yield me here by my abode. A husband, and a son, thou ow'st to me,And thou, a kingdom;-all of you, allegiance: This sorrow that I have, by right is yours; And all the pleasures you usurp, are mine. Glo. The curse my noble father laid on thee,[paper, When thou didst crown his warlike brows with And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes;
And then, to dry them, gav'st the duke a clout, Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland;
His curses, then from bitterness of soul Denounc'd against thee, are all fall'n upon thee; And God, not, we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed.
Q. Eliz. So just is God, to right the innocent. Hust. O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe,
And the most merciless, that e'er was heard of. Riv. Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported.
Dors. No man but prophesied revenge for it. Buck. Northumberland, then present, wept
to see it.
Q. Mar. What! were you snarling all, before
Ready to catch each other by the throat,
That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death,
Why, then give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses!
Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, As ours by murder, to make him a king! Edward, thy son, that now is prince of Wales, For Edward, my son, that was prince of Wales,
Die in his youth, by like untimely violence!
Long die thy happy days before thy death;
Q. Mar. And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me.
If heaven have any grievous plague in store,
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou
Q. Mar. Richard!
Q. Mar. I call thee not.
Glo. I cry thee mercy then; for I did think, That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter
Lest, to thy harm, thou move our patience. Q. Mar. Foul shame upon you! you have all mov'd mine.
Riv. Were you well serv'd, you would be taught your duty.
Q. Mar. To serve me well, you all should do me duty, [jects: Teach me to be your queen, and you my subO, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty.
Dor. Dispute not with her, she is lunatic. Q. Mar. Peace, master marquis, you are malapert: [rent :+ Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce curO, that your young nobility could judge, What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable! They that stand high, have many blast to shake them;
And, if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. Glo. Good counsel, marry ;-learn it, learn
Dor. It touches you, my lord, as much as
Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy
Q Mar. Urge neither charity nor shame to
Q. Mar. O princely Buckingham, I kiss thy hand,
In sign of league and amity with thee:
And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace.
His venom tooth will rankle to the death:
And all their ministers attend on him. [him; Glo. What doth she say, my lord of Buckingham?
Buck. Nothing that I respect, my gracious
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 I was too hot to do somebody good, [wrong. 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 hath done scath to us. Glo. So do I ever, being well advis'd;For had I curs'd now, I had curs'd myself.
Glo. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. The secret mischiefs that I set abroach, lay unto the grievous charge of others. Clarence,-whom I, indeed, have laid in darkI do beweep to many simple gulls; [ness,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 villany 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 despatch this thing? 1 Murd. We are, my lord; and come to have the warrant,
Talkers are no good doers; be assur'd,
I like you, lads;-about your business straight;
1 Murd. We will, my noble lord. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The same.-A Room in the Tower.
Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY. Brak. Why looks your grace so heavily today?
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.
Clar. Methought, that I had broken from the
And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy;
And cited up a thousand heavy times,
Struck me, that thought to stay him, over-board,
What dreadful noise of water in mine ears!
To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood
O, then began the tempest to my soul!
Who cried aloud,-What scourge for perjury
That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury ;-
I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.
That now give evidence against my soul,-
Let him see our commission; talk no more.
Brak. I am, in this, commanded to deliver
Fare you well.
1 Murd. No; he'll say, 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes.
2 Murd. When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake until the great judgement day. 1 Murd. Why, then he'll say, we stabb'd him sleeping.
2 Murd. The urging of that word, judgement, 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'y thee, 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? 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 eward.
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 danchil-gerous 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 neighbours wife, but it detects him: 'Tis a blushing shame-fac'd 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 live without it.
TCLARENCE reposes himself on a Chair.
Princes have but their titles for their glories,
They often feel a world of restless cares:
Enter the two MURDERERS.
1 Murd. Ho! who's here?
1 Murd. I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs.
Brak. What, so brief?
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 costardt with the