Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. Oh, Poor Clarence! [Exeunt King and Queen, HASTINGS, RIVERS, DORSET, and GREY. Glo. These are the fruits of rashness? - Mark'd you not, How that the guilty kindred of the queen Look'd pale, when they did hear of Clarence' death ? God will revenge it. Come, lords; will you go, Buck. We wait upon your grace. 140 [Exeunt. The same. SCENE II. Enter the Dutchess of YORK, with the two Son. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead? 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? Dutch. My pretty cousins, you mistake me both; I do lament the sickness of the king, 150 As As loth to lose him, not your father's death; 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. Dutch. Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well: Incapable and shallow innocents, You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death. And when my uncle told me so, he wept, Dutch. Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, And with a virtuous vizor hide deep vice! He is my son, ay, and therein my shame, Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. 170 Son. Think you, my uncle did dissemble, grandam ? Dutch. Ay, boy. Son. I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this? Enter Enter the Queen, distractedly; RIVERS, and DORSET, after her. Queen. 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, Dutch. What means this scene of rude impatience? Queen. To make an act of tragic violence — 180 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 sap?— you will live, lament; if die, be brief; If That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; Or, like obedient subjects, follow him To his new kingdom of perpetual rest. Dutch. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow, As I had title in thy noble husband! I have bewept a worthy husband's death, But now, two mirrors of his princely semblance 190 And hast the comfort of thy children left thee: Το To over-go thy plaints, and drown thy cries? Son. Ah, aunt! [To the Queen.] you wept not for our father's death; How can we aid you with our kindred tears ? Queen. Give me no help in lamentation, 210 Chil. Ah, for our father, for our dear lord Clarence! Dutch. Alas, for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence ! Queen. What stay had I, but Edward and he's gone. Chil. What stay had we, but Clarence ? and he's gone. Dutch. What stays had I, but they? and they are gone. Queen. Was never widow, had so dear a loss. Chil. Were never orphans, had so dear a loss. Dutch. Was never mother, had so dear a loss. 220 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, F : Pour Pour all your tears; I am your sorrow's nurse, Dors. Comfort, dear mother; God is much displeas'd, 230 That you take with unthankfulness his doing: 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, 240 And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. Enter GLOSTER, BUCKINGHAM, STANLEY, HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF. Glo. Sister, have comfort: all of us have cause But none can cure their harms by wailing them.- I did not see your grace :-Humbly on my knee Dutch. God bless thee; and put meekness in thy breast, Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! 249 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, Buch. |