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 thon hadst 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?

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 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 detects him: 'Tis a blushing, shamefaced 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 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 hilts 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.

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

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 [to us.

defend.

1 Murd. How canst thou urge God's dreadful law 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.

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. [hates yon.
2 Murd. You are deceiv'd, your brother Gloster
Clar. O, 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. O, 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 fortune, 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 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 murd'ring 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, avage, 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;
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.

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

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

Re-enter first Murderer.

1 Murd. How now? what mean'st thou, that thon help'st me not?

2 Murd. I would he knew that I had sav'd his broTake thou the fee, and tell him what I say; [ther! 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.

ACT II.

SCENE I. The same. A Room in the Palace.

Enter King Edward (led in sick), Queen Elizabeth, Dorset, Rivers, Hastings, Buckingham, Grey, and others.

good day's [work;

K. Edw. Why so:-now have I done a 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. (hate; Riv. By heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging 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 factious one against the other. Wife, love lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand; And what you do, do it unfeignedly. [member

Q. Eliz. There, Hastings; I will never more reOur former hatred, so thrive I, and mine! [marquis. K. Edw. Dorset, embrace him, Hastings, love lord Dor. This interchange of love, I here protest, Upon my part, shall be inviolable.

Hast.

t. And so swear 1. [Embraces Dorset. K. Edw. Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this With thy embracements to my wife's allies, [league And make me happy in your unity.

Buck. Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate Upon your grace, [To the Queen] but with all duteous Doth cherish you, and yours, God punish me [love 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, treacherous, 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 g Rivers, Rivers, &c.

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.

[dnke.

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

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 havespent 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 lodg'd 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; 1 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 seorn his corse. [be is? K. Edw. Who knows not he is dead? who knows 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 preBut his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. [sence, 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 soulis full of sorrow. Stan. I will not rise, unless your highness hear me. K. Edw. Then say at once, w what is it thou request'st. Stan. The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman, Lately attendant on the duke of Norfolk.

;

[death,
K. Edw. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's
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 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,
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. O,
Poor Clarence!

[Exeunt King, Queen, Hast. Riv. Dor. 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 Daughter of Clarence.

Son. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead ? Duch. No, boy. [breast; Daugh. Why do you weep so oft? and beat your And cry-0 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

1 Cit. Why, so hath this, both by his father and mother.

3 Cit. Better it were they all came by his father;

Or, by his father, there were none at all:
For emulation now, who shall be nearest,

Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not.
O, full of danger is the duke of Gloster;
And the queen's sons, and brothers, haughtand proud:
And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule,
This sickly land might solace as before. [well.
1 Cit. Come, come, we fear the worst; all
3 Cit. When clouds are seen, wise men put on their

cloaks;

will be

When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?
Untimely storms make men expect a dearth:
All may be well: but, if God sort it so,
'Tis more than we deserve, or I expect.

2 Cit. Truly, the hearts of men are full of fear: You cannot reason almost with a man That looks not heavily, and full of dread.

3 Cit. Before the days of change, still is it so: By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust Ensuing danger; as, by proof, we see The water swell before a boistrous storm. But leave it all to God. Whither away?

2 Cit. Marry, we were sent for to the justices. 3 Cit. And so was I; I'll bear you company.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. The same. A Room in the Palace. Enter the Archbishop of York, the young Duke of York, Queen Elizabeth, and the Duchess of York. Arch. Last night, I heard, they lay at Stony-StratAnd at Northampton they do rest to-night: [ford; To-morrow, or next day, they will be here. Duch. I long with all my heart to see the prince; I hope, he is much grown since last I saw him. Q. Eliz. But I hear, no; they say, my son of York Hath almost over-ta'en him in his growth.

York. Ay, mother, but I would not have it so. Duch. Why, my young cousin, it is good to grow. York. Grandam, one night, as we did sit at supper,

My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow

More than my brother: Ay, quoth my uncle Gloster, Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace: And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast, Because sweet flowers are slow, and weeds make haste.

[hold

Duch. Good faith, good faith, the saying did not
In him that did object the same to thee:
He was the wretched'st thing, when he was young,
So long a-growing, and se leisurely,

That, if his rule were true, he should be gracious.
Arch. And so, no doubt, he is, my gracious madam.
Duch. I hope he is; but, yet let mothers doubt.
York. Now, by my troth, if I had been remember'd,
I could have given my uncle's grace a flout,
To touch his growth, nearer than he touch'd mine.
Duch. How, my young York? I pr'ythee, let me
hear it.

York. Marry, they say, my uncle grew so fast,
That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old;
"Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth.
Grandam, this would have been a biting jest.
Duch. I pr'ythee, pretty York, who told thee this?
York. Grandam, his nurse.

[born.

Duch. His nurse! why, she was dead ere thou wast York. If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me. Q. Eliz. A parlous boy: -Goto, you are too shrewd. Arch. Good madam, be not angry with the child. Q. Eliz. Pitchers have ears.

The tiger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind;
Insulting tyranny begins to jut
Upon the innocent and awless throne:-
Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre !
I see, as in a map, the end of all.

Duch. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days!

How many of you have mine eyes beheld ?
My husband lost his life to get the crown;
And often up and down my sons were tost,
For me to joy, and weep, their gain, and loss:
And being seated, and domestic broils
Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors,
Make war upon themselves; brother to brother,
Blood to blood, self 'gainst self:-O, preposterous
And frantic courage, end thy damned spleen:

Or let me die, to look on death no more!

Q. Eliz. Come, come, my boy, we will to sanc

Madam, farewell.

Duch.

Stay, I will go with you.

Q. Eliz. You have no cause.
Arch.

[tuary.

My gracious lady, go.

[To the Queen.

And thither bear your treasure and your goods.
For my part, I'll resign unto your grace
The seal I keep; And so betide to me,

As well I tender you, and all of yours!
Come, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary. [Exeunt.

АСТ І.

SCENE I. The same. A Street.

The Trumpets sound. Enter the Prince of Wales, Gloster, Buckingham, Cardinal Bourchier, and others.

chamber.

Buck. Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your Glo. Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sovereign: The weary way hath made you melancholy. Prince. No, uncle; but our crosses on the way Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy: I want more uncles here to welcome me.

were none.

Glo. Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit: [years No more can you distinguish of a man, Than of his outward show; which, God he knows, Seldom, or never, jumpeth with the heart. Those uncles, which you want, were dangerous; Your grace attended to their sugar'd words, But look'd not on the poison of their hearts: God keep you from them, and from such false friends! Prince. God keep me from false friends! but they [you, Glo. My lord, the mayor of London comes to greet Enter the Lord Mayor and his Train. May. God bless your grace with health and happy days! Prince. I thank you, good my lord;-and thank you all.[Exeunt Mayor, &c. I thought my mother, and my brother York, Would long ere this have met us on the way:Fie, what a slug is Hastings! that he comes not To tell us, whether they will come, or no.

Enter Hastings.

Buck. And, in good time, here comes the sweating lord. [come? Prince. Welcome, my lord: What, will our mother Hast. On what occasion, God he knows, not I, The queen your mother, and your brother York, Have taken sanctuary: The tender prince Would fain have come with me to meet your grace, But by his mother was perforce withheld.

Buck. Fie! what an indirect and peevish course Is this of hers!-Lord cardinal, will your grace Persuade the queen to send the duke of York Unto his princely brother presently? If she deny, lord Hastings, go with him, And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce. Card. My lord of Buckingham,

weak oratory

the duke of York,
Anon expect him here: But if she be obdurate
To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid
We should infringe the holy privilege
Of blessed sanctuary! not for all this land,
Would I be guilty of so deep a sin.

Buck. You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord,
Too ceremonious, and traditional:
Weigh it but with the grossness of this age,
You break not sanctuary in seizing him.
The benefit thereof is always granted