me:

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 re

bels?

Ah! gentle villain, do not turn away!

Glo. Foul wrinkled witch, what inak'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
death?

Q. Mar. I was; but I do find more pain
bauishment,

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 your's;
And all the pleasures you usurp, are mine.

of

in

Glo. The curse my noble father laid on thee,

When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper,

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 Rut

Jand;

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. Hast. 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
I came,

Ready to catch each other by the throat,
And turn you all your hatred now on me?
Did York's dread curse prevail so much with

Though not by war, by surfeit die your king,
As our's 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!
Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen,
Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self!
Long may'st thou live, to wail thy children's
loss;

And see another, as I see thee now,
Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine!
Long die thy happy days before thy death;
And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief,
Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen !—
Rivers, and Dorset, you were standers by,
And so wast thou, lord Hastings, when my son
Was stabb'd with bloody daggers; God, I pray
him,

That none of you inay live your natural age,
But by some unlook'd accident cut off!

Glo. Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag.

Q. Mar. And leave out thee? stay, dog, for
thou shalt hear me,

If heaven have any grievous plague in store,
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,

peace!

The worm of conscience still begnaw thy sool!
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st,
Aud take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
Unless it be while some tormenting dream
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils!
Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting bog!
Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity
The slave of nature, and the son of hell!
Thou glander of thy mother's heavy womb;
Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins!
Thou rug of honour! thou detested-

Glo. Margaret.

Q. Mar. Richard!

Glo. Ha?

curse;

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,

Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects:

O serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty.

Dor. Dispute not with her, she is lunatic. Q. Mar. Peace, master marquis, you are malapert:

Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce cur

rent: +

that your young nobility could judge, What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable! They that stand high, bave many blast to shake them;

And, if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces.

Glo. Good counsel, marry ;-learn it, learn it, marquis.

Dor. It touches you, my lord, as much as

Brak. Awak'd you not with this sore agony! Clar. Oh no, my dream was lengthen'd after life;

Oh! then began the tempest to my soul! 1 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 War. wick,

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 judgment day.

1 Murd. Why, then he'll say we stabb'd bim 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 reso

rence?

And so he vanish'd: Then came wand'ring by

A shadow like an angel, with bright hair Dabbled in blood; and he shriek'd out aload, Clarence is come, false, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence,

That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury

Seize on him, furies, take him to your tor. ments!

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
things,

these

That now give evidence against my soul, For Edward's sake; and, see, how he requites ine !

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:

O spare my guiltless wife, and my poor chi!

dren!

I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me;
My soul is heavy, and 1 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.

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! 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 Murd. In the duke of Gloster's parse. 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 he with his neighbour's wife, but it detects big: '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.

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 ther, 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 hilts of thy sword, and then throw him into the malmsey-butt, in the next room.

2 Murd. O excellent device! and make a sop of him.

1 Murd. Soft! he wakes.

2 Murd. Strike.

come?

Both Murd. To, to, to,Clar. To murder me? Both Murd. Ay, ay.

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

And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. Wherein, my friends, have I offended you?

1 Murd. Offended us 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
sins,

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
Sparn 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 caust thou urge God's dreadful law to us,

When thou hast broke it in such dear gree?

Clar. Alas! for whose sake did I that

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.

de

ill

1 Murd. Who made thee then a bloody minister,

When gallant-springing, brave Plantagenet, That princely novice,t 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 bither now to slaughter thee.
Clar. If you do love my brother, bate not
me i

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.

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

Clar. Oh! no; he loves me, and he holds me dear :

Go you to him from me.

Both Murd. Ay, so we will.

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.

1 Murd. Ay, mill-stones; as he lesson'd us to weep.

Clar. Oh! do not slander him, for he is kind.

1 Murd. Right, as snow in harvest. Come, you deceive yourself;

'Tis he that sends us to destroy you here.

Clar. It cannot be; for he bewept my for

tune,

And hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs,

That he would labour my delivery.

1 Murd. Why so he doth, when he delivers

Clar. Not to relent, is beastly, savage, devilish.

Which of you, if you were a prince's son,
Being pent from liberty, as I am now,-
If two such murderers as yourselves came to
you,-

Would not entreat for life?

My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks; Oh! 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 1 2 Murd. Look behind you, my lord. 1 Murd. Take that, and that; if all this will [Stabs him.

not do,

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

[Exit with the body. 2 Murd. A bloody deed, and desperately despatch'd!

How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands Of this most grievous guilty murder done!

Re-enter first MURDERER.

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.