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And made our footstool of security.
Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy:-
Glo. I'll blast his harvest, if your head were laid;
K. Edw. Clarence, and Gloster, love my lovely queen;
And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both.
I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe.
K. Edw. Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy brother, thanks. Glo. And, that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st, Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit:
To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his master;
Clar. What will your grace have done with Margaret? Reignier, her father, to the king of France
Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem,
And hither have they sent it for her ransom.
K. Edw. Away with her, and waft her hence to France.
Sound, drums and trumpets!-farewell sour annoy!
(ING EDWARD THE FOURTH. SIR RICHARD RATCLIFF.
SIR WILLIAM CATESBY.
SIR JAMES TYREL.
SIR JAMES BLOUNT.
SIR WALTER HERBERT.
LORD MAYOR OF LONDON.
ELIZABETH, Queen of King Ed ward IV.
MARGARET, Queen of King Henry
DUCHESS OF YORK, Mother to King Edward IV., Clarence, and Gloster.
LADY ANNE, Widow of Edward Prince of Wales, Son to King Henry VI.; afterwards married to the Duke of Gloster.
A young DAUGHTER of Clarence.
LORDS, and other ATTENDANTS; two GENTLEMEN, a PURSUIVANT, SCRIVENER, CITIZENS, MURDERERS, MESSENGERS, GHOSTS, SOLDIERS, &c.
SCENE I-London. A Street.
Glo. Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun* of York; And all the clouds, that lowr'd upon our house,
* The cognizance of Edward IV.
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I,-that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
I that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty,
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul! here Clarence comes.
Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY.
Brother, good day: What means this armed guard,
Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed
This conduct to convey me to the Tower.
Glo. Upon what cause?
Clar. Because my name is-George.
Glo. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours;
Producing things dissimilar.
Preparations for mischief.
That you should be new christen'd in the Tower.
Clar. Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest,
He hearkens after prophecies, and dreams;
And, for my name of George begins with G,
These, as I learn, and such like toys* as these,
Glo. Why, this it is, when men are ruled by women :-
"Tis not the king, that sends you to the Tower
Was it not she, and that good man of worship,
Clar. By heaven, I think, there is no man secure,
Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon me;
Of what degree soever, with his brother.
Glo. Even so? an please your worship, Brakenbury,
You may partake of anything we say:
We speak no treason, man; We say, the king
We say, that Shore's
A cherry lip,
A bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue;
And the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks:
How say you, Sir? can you deny all this?
Brak. With this, my lord, myself have naught to do.
Glo. Naught to do with mistress Shore? I tell thee, fellow,
He that doth naught with her, excepting one,
Brak. What one, my lord?
Glo. Her husband, knave:-Wouldst thou betray me? Brak. 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. Glo. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey. Brother, farewell; I will unto the king,
And whatsoever you will employ me in,-
Mean time, this deep disgrace in brotherhood,
Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
Mean time, have patience.
Clar. I must perforce; farewell.
Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and guard. Glo. 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 who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings?
Hast. Good time of day unto my gracious lord!
How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment ?
Glo. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too;
And have prevail'd as much on him as you.
Hast. More pity that the eagle should be mew'd,
While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.
Glo. What news abroad?
Hast. No news so bad abroad, as this at home;
The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy,
And his physicians fear him mightily.
Glo. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed.
O, he hath kept an evil diett long,
And over-much consumed his royal person;
Tis very grievous to be thought upon.
What, is he in his bed?
Most servile of subjects.
I. e. In prison.