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Brak. What one, my lord ? Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY.
Glou. Her husband, knave. Would'st thou Brother, good day. What means this armed guard betray me? That waits upon your grace?
Brak. I beseech your grace to pardon me; Clar.
and withal Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed Forbear your conference with the noble duke. This conduct to convey me to the Tower.
Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and Glou. Upon what cause ?
will obey. Clar.
Because my name is George. Glou. Wearethequeen's abjects,andmustobey. Glou. Alack! my lord, that fault is none of Brother, farewell : I will unto the king ; yours;
And whatsoe'er you will employ me in, He should, for that, commit your godfathers. Were it to call King Edward's widow sister, 0! belike his majesty bath some intent 49 I will perform it to enfranchise you. That you should be new-christen'd in the Tower. Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know? | Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
Clar. Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest Clar. I kuow it pleaseth neither of us well. As yet I do not; but, as I can learn,
Glou. Well, yourimprisonment shall not be long; He hearkens after prophecies and dreams; I will deliver you, or else lie for you : And from the cross-row plucks the letter G, Meantime, have patience. And says a wizard told him that by G
I must perforce : farewell. His issue disinherited should be ;
Excunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and And, for my name of George begins with G,
Guard. It follows in his thought that I am he.
Glou. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er These, as I learn, and such like toys as these 60 return, Have mov'd his highness to commit me now. Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so Glou. Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven,
If heaven will take the present at our hands. 120 'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower ; But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings? My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she
Enter HASTINGS. That tempers him to this extremity. Was it not she and that good man of worship, Hast. Good time of day unto my gracious lord! Anthony Woodville, her brother there,
Glou. As much unto my good lord chamberlain ! That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower, Well are you welcome to this open air. From whence this present day he is deliver'd ? How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment ? We are not safe, Clarence ; we are not safe. Hast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners
Clar. By heaven, I think there is no man secure must; But the queen's kividred and night-walking But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks heralds
That were the cause of my imprisonment. Thattrudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore. Glou. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Heard ye not what an humble suppliant
Glou. Humbly complaining to her deity And have prevail'd as much on him as you. Got my lord chamberlain his liberty.
Hast. More pity that the eagle should be mew'd, I'll tell you what; I think it is our way, While kites and buzzards prey at liberty. If we will keep in favour with the king,
Glou. What news abroad? To be her men and wear her livery :
Hast. No news so bad abroad as this at home; The jealous o'erworn widow and herself,
The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy,
Glou. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad
Hast. He is. You may partake of any thing we say:
Glou. Go you before, and I will follow you. We speak no treason, man: we say the king so
Exit HASTINGS. Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen He cannot live, I hope ; and must not die Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous; Till George be pack'd with post-borse up to We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
heaven. A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence, tongue;
With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments; Andthat thequeen’skindredaremadegentlefolks. And, if I fail not in my deep intent, How say you, sir ? can you deny all this? Clarence hath not another day to live : Brak. With this, my lord, myself have nought Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy, to do.
And leave the world for me to bustle in ! Glou. Naught to do with Mistress Shore! I For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter. tell thee, fellow,
What though I kill'd her husband and her father? He that doth naught with her, excepting oue, The readiest way to make the wench amends Were best he do it secretly, alone.
Is to become her husband and her father :
The which will I ; not all so much for love Avaunt! thou dreadful minister of hell;
Thou hadst but power over his mortal body,
Glou. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. Clarence -till breathes; Edward still lives and Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and reigns:
trouble is not ; When they are gone, then must I count my For thou hast made the happy earth thy bell, gains.
Exit. Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims.
If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, SCENE II.-The Same. Another Street,
Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.
0! gentlemen ; see, see! dead Henry's trounds Enter the corpse of King HENRY the Sixth, borne Open their congeal'd months and bleed afresh.
in an open coffin, Gentlemen bearing halberds, to Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity, guard it; and Lady ANNE as mourner. For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood Anne. Set down, set down yourhonourable load, From cold and empty veins, where no blcod
dwells : If honour may be shrouded in a hearse, Wbilst I awhile obsequiously lament
Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural, The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.,
Provokes this deluge most unnatural. Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!
O God! which this blood mad'st, revenge his Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster !
death; Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood !
O earth! which this blood drink'st, revenge his Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost,
death; To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,
Either heaven with lightning strike the murderer
dead, Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son, Stabb’d by the self-same hand that made these Or earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick, wounds!
As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood, Lo! in these windows that let forth thy life,
Which his hell-govern'd arm bath butchered! I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.
Glou. Lads, you know no rules of charity, 0! cursed be the hand that made these holes;
Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it!
Anne. Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence ! No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. More direful bap betide that hated wretch, That makes us wretched by the death of thee,
Glou. But I know done, and therefore am no Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,
beast. Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!
Anne. O! wonderful, when devils tell the truth. If ever he have child, abortive be it,
Glou. More wonderfulwhen angels are so angry. Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,
Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, Whose ugly and unnatural aspect
Of these supposed evils, to give me leave, May fright the hopeful mother at the view ;
By circumstance, but to acquit myself. And that be heir to his unhappiness!
anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man If ever he have wife, let her be made
For these known evils, but to give me leave, More miserable by the death of him
By circumstance, to curse thy curseri self. Than I am made by my young lord and thee!
Glou. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load,
me have Taken from Paul's to be interred there ;
Some patient leisure to excuse myself. And still, as you are weary of this weight,
Anne. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse.
Glou. By such despair I should accnse mrself.
Anne. And by despairing should'st thou stand Glou. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set excus'd it down.
For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, Anne. What black magician conjures up this Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others. fiend,
Glou. Say that I slew them not. To stop devoted charitable deeds ?
Then say they were not slain: Glou. Villains! set down the corse; or, by But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee. Saint Paul,
Glou. I did not kill your husband. I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.
Why, then he is alive. First Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the Glou. Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's
hand. Glou. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou when I Anne. In thy foul throat thou liest : Queen command :
Margaret saw Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, 40 Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood; Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, The which thon oncedidst bendagainst her breast, And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. But that thy brothers beat aside the point.
The Bearers set down the coffin. Glou. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue, Anne. What! do you tremble ? are you all Which laidtheirguilt uponmyguiltless shoulders afraid ?
Anne. Thou wast provoked by thy bloovly mind, Alas! I blame you not; for you are mortal, That never dreamt on aught but butcheries los And mortal eyes caunot endure the devil. Didst thou not kill this king ?
I grant ye.
Anne. Would they were basilisks, to strike Anne. Dost grant me, hedge-hog? then, God thee deal! grant me too
Glou. I would they were, that I night die at Thou may'st be danined for that wicked deed! once ; 0! he was gentle, mid, and virtuous.
For now they kill me with a living death. Glou. The fitter for the King of heaven that Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt hath him.
tears, Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never Sham'd their aspects with store of childish
drops ; Glou. Let him thank me, that holp to send These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear ; bim thither;
No, when my father York and Edwari wept For he was titter for that place than earth. To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made
Anne. And thou unfit for any place but hell. When black-fac'd Clifford shook his swore at Glou. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.
110 Nor when thy war-like father, like a child, Anne. Some dungeon.
Told the sad story of my father's death, Glou.
Your bedchamber. And twenty times made pause to sob and weep, Anne. Ill rest be ide the chamber where thou That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks, liest!
Like trees bedash'd with rain : in that sal time Glou. So will it, madam, tili I lie with you. My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; Anne. I hope so.
And what these sorrows conld not thence exhale, Glonu. I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with To leave this keen encounter of our wits,
weeping. And fall somewhat into a slower method, I never sued to friend nor enemy: Is not the causer of the timeless deaths
My tongne could never learn sweet smoothing Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward,
words; As blameful as the executioner?
But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee, Anne. Thou art the cause, and most accurs. My proud heart snes, and prompts my tongue to effect.
speak. She looks scornfully at him. 170 Glow. Your beauty was the cause of that effect; Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made Your beauty, that did baunt me in my sleep For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. To undertake the death of all the world, If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. Lo! here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword ;
Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, Which if thou please to hide in this true breast, These nails should rend that beauty from my And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, cheeks.
I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, Glou. These eyes could notendure that beauty's And humbly beg the death upon my knee. wreck;
He lays his breast open: she offers at it Yon should not llenish it if I stood by :
with his sword. As all the world is cheered by the sun,
Nay, do not pause ; for I did kill King Henry ; So I by that ; it is my day, my life.
But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and Nay, now dispatch ; 'twas I that stabb'd young death thy life!
Edward ; Glou. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. art both.
She lets fall the sword. Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee. Take up the sword again, or take up me. Glou. It is a quarrel most unnatural,
Anne. Arise, dissembler : though I wish thy To be tereng'd on him that loveth thee.
death, Anne. It is a quarrel just and reasonable, I will not be the executioner. To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband. Glou. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.
Glou. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy hu-band, Anne. I have already. Did it to help thee to a better husbani.
That was in thy rage : Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the Speak it again, and even with the word, earth.
This hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy Glou. He lives that loves thee better than he love, could.
Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love : Anne, Name him.
To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. Glou, Plantagenet.
Anne. I would I knew thy heart. Anne.
Why, that was he. Glou. 'Tis figured in my tongue. Glou. The self-same name, but one of better Anne. I fear me both are false. nature.
Glou. Then never man was true. Anne. Where is he?.
Anne. Well, well, put up your sword. Glou.
Here. She spitteth at him. Glou. Say, then, my peace is madle.
Why dost thou spit at me? Anne. That shalt thou know hereafter. Anne. Would it were mortal poison, for thy Glou. But shall I live in hope ? sake!
Anne. All men, I hope, live so. Glou. Never came poison from so sweet a place. Glou, Vouchsafe to wear this ring.
Anne. Never hung poison on a fouler toad. Anne. To take is not to give. Out of my sight! thou dost infect mine eyes, Glou. Look! how this ring encompasseth thy
Glou. Thineeyes, sweet lady, have infectedmine. finger,
Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart;
Enter Queen ELIZABETH, Lord RIVERS, and But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Riv. Have patience, madam: there's no doubt
his majesty Glou. That it may please you leave these sad designs
Will soon recover his accustom'd health. To him that hath more cause to be a mourner,
Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him And presently repair to Crosby-place ; Where, after I have solemnly interr'd
Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, At Chertsey monastery this noble king,
And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. And wet his grave with my repentant tears,
Q. Eliz. If he were dead, what would betide I will with all expedient duty see you :
on me? For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you,
Grey. No other harm but loss of such a lord. Grant me this boon.
Q. Eliz. The loss of such a lord includes all
harms. Anne. With all my heart ; and much it joys
Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with a me too To see you are become so penitent.
goodly son, Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.
To be your comforter when he is gone. Glou. Bid me farewell.
Q. Eliz. Ah! he is young; and his minority Anne.
'Tis more than you deserve ; Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester, But since you teach me how to flatter you,
A man that loves not me, por none of you. Imagine I have said farewell already.
Riv. Is it concluded he shall be protector ? Exeunt Lady ANNE, TRESSEL, and
Q. Eliz. It is determind, not concluded yet :
BERKELEY. But so it must be if the king miscarry. Glou. Sirs, take up the corse.
Enter BUCKINGHAM and STANLEY. Gent. Towards Chertsey, noble lord ?
Grey. Here come the Lords of Buckingham Glou. No, to White-Friars; there attend my
and Stanley. coming E.ceunt all but GLOUCESTER.
Buck. Good time of day unto your roral grace! Was ever woman in this humour wood ?
Stan. God make your majesty joyful as you Was ever woman in this humour won ?
have been! I'll have her; but I will not keep her long.
Q. Eliz. The Countess Richmond, good my What! I, that kill'd her husband and his father,
Lord of Stanley, To take her in her heart's extremest hate;
To your good prayer will scarcely say amen. With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,
Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; Having God, her conscience, and these bars I hate not you for her proud arrogance,
And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd against me,
Stan, I do beseech you, either not believe And I no friends to back my suit withal, The envious slanders of her false accusers; But the plain devil and dissembling looks,
Or, if she be accus'd on true report, And yet to win her, all the world to nothing !
Bear with her weakness, which, I think, proceeds Ha !
From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
Q. Eliz. Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months
Stanley ? since,
Stan. But now the Duke of Buckingham and I Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury ?
Are come from visiting his majesty. A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,
Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment, Fram'd in the prodigality of nature,
lords? Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal,
Buck. Madam, good hope ; his grace speaks The spacious world cannot again afford :
cheerfully. And will she yet abase her eyes on me,
Q. Eliz. God grant him health! Did you confer That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet
with him? prince, And made her widow to a woeful bed ?
Buck. Ay, madam : he desires to make atone.
ment On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety?
Between the Duke of Gloucester and your On me, that halt and am misshapen thus ?
brothers, My dukedom to a beggarly denier
And between them and my lord chamberlain ; I do mistake my person all this while :
And sent to warn them to his royal presence. Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, Myself to be a marvellous proper man.
Q. Eliz. Would all were well! But that will
never be. I'll be at charges for a looking-glass,
I fear our happiness is at the highest.
Enter GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET. Since I am crept in favour with myself,
Glou. They do me wrong, and I will not I will maintain it with some little cost.
endure it: But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave, Who are they that complain unto the king, And then return lamenting to my love.
That I, forsooth, am stern and love them not! Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly That I may see my shadow as I pass. Exit. That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours.
of Glou. In all which time you and your husband
Because I cannot flatter and speak fair,
I had rather be a country servant maid Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, Than a great queen, with this condition, Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, To be so baited, scorn'd, and stormed at: I must be held a rancorous enemy.
50 Small joy have I in being England's queen. Cannot a plain man live and think no harm, But thus his simple truth must be abus'd
Enter Queen MARGARET, behind. By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks ?
R. Mar. And lessen'd be that small, God, I Grey. To whom in all this presence speaks beseech him! your grace?
Thy honour, state and seat is due to me. Glou. To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace. Glou. Vhat! threat you me with telling of When havelinjur'dthee? when done thee wrong? the king ? Or thee? or thee? or any of your faction ? Tell him, and spare not : look! what I have said A plague upon you all! His royal person, I will avouch in presence of the king : Whom God preserve better than you would wish! I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower. Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing.while, 60 'Tis time to speak ; my pains are quite forgot. But you must trouble bim with lewd complaints. Q. Mar. Out, devil! I remember them too well: Q. Eliz. Brother of Gloucester, you mistake Thou kill'dst my husband Henry in the Tower, the matter.
And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. The king, of his own royal disposition,
Glou. Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband And not provok'd by any suitor else,
king, Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,
I was a pack-horse in his great affairs, That in your outward action shows itself A weeder-out of his proud adversaries, Against my kindred, brothers, and myself, A liberal rewarder of his friends; Makes him to send ; that thereby he may gather To royalise his blood I spilt mine own. The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it. Q. Mar. Ay, and much better blood than his, Glou. I cannot tell; the world is grown so bad
or thine. That wrens make prey where eagles dare not
perch: Since every Jack became a gentleman
Were factious for the house of Lancaster ; There's many a gentle person made a Jack. And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband Q. Eliz. Come, come, we know your meaning, In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain? 130 brother Gloucester;
Let me put in your minds, if you forget, You envy my advancement and my friends'. What you have been ere now, and what you are; God grant we never may have need of you ! Withal, what I have been, and what I am. Glou. Meantime, God grants that we have need Q. Mar. A murderous villain, and sostillthouart.
Glou. Poor Clarence did forsake his father Our brother is imprison'd by your means,
Warwick, Myself disgrac'd, and the nobility
Ay, and forswore himself, which Jesu pardon! Held in contempt; while many fair promotions Q. Mar. Which God revenge ! Are daily given to ennoble those
Glou. To fight on Edward's party forthecrown; That scarce, some two days since, were worth a And for his meed, poor lord, he is mewd up. noble.
I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward's, Q. Eliz. By him that rais'd me to this careful Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine: beight
I am too childish-foolish for this world. From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,
Q. Mar. Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave I never did incense his majesty
the world, Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been Thou cacodemon! there thy kingdom is. An earnest advocate to plead for him.
Riv. My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days My lord, you do me shameful injury,
Which here you urge to prove us enemies, Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king ;
Glou. You may deny that you were not the mean So should we you, if you should be our king. Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment.
Glou. If I should be! I bad rather be a pedlar. Rit. She may, my lord ; for
Far be it from my heart the thought thereof l 150 Glou. She may, Lord Rivers! why, who knows Q. Eliz. As little joy, my lord, as you suppose not so ?
You should enjoy, were you this country's king, She may do more, sir, than denying that: As little joy may you suppose in me She may help you to many fair preferments, That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. And then deny her aiding hand therein,
Q. Mar. A little joy enjoys the queen thereof; And lay those honours on your high desert. For I am she, and altogether joyless. What may she not? She may,-ay, marry, may I can no longer hold me patient. Advancing. she,
Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out Rir. What, marry, may she ?
In sharing that which you have pill'd from me! Glou. What, marry, may shel marry with a king, Which of you trembles not that looks on me? 160 A bachelor, and a handsome stripling too. If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects, I wis your grandam had a worser match. Yet that, by you depos'd, you quake like rebels ? Q. Éliz. My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long Ah! gentle villain, do not turn away. borne
Glou. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs ; in my sight? By heaven, I will acquaint bis majesty
Q. Mar. Butrepetition of what thou hast marr’d; of those gross taupts that oft I have endur'd. That will I make before I let thee go.