33

Clar. Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert.1 Prince. I know my duty; you are all undutiful: Lascivious Edward, - and thou, perjur'd George,―

And thou, mis-shapen Dick,-I tell ye all I am your better, traitors as ye are;And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine. K. Edw. Take that, the likeness of this railer here. [Stabs him. Glo. Sprawl'st thou? take that, to end thy [Stabs him. Clar. And there's for twitting me with perjury. [Stabs him.

agony.

Q. Mar. O, kill me too! Glo. Marry, and shall.

41

[Offers to kill her.

Q. Mar. O Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy mother, boy!

Canst thou not speak?—O traitors! murderers!

They that stabb'd Cæsar shed no blood at all,
Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
If this foul deed were by to equal it:
He was a man; this, in respect,2 a child,-
And men ne'er spend their fury on a child.
What's worse than murderer, that I may
name it?

No, no, my heart will burst, an if I speak:— And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.

60

Q. Mar. Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.

Clar. Didst thou not hear me swear I would not do it?

Q. Mar. Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself:

'Twas sin before, but now 't is charity. What, wilt thou not?-Where is that devil's butcher,

Hard-favour'd Richard?-Richard, where art thou?

Thou art not here: murder is thy alms-deed; Petitioners for blood thou ne'er putt'st back. K. Edw. Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her hence.

81

SCENE VI. London. A room in the Tower. KING HENRY sitting with a book in his hand, the Lieutenant attending. Enter GLOSTER. Glo. Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard?

3 Deathsmen, i.e. executioners. 4 Rid, made away with.

K. Hen. Ay, my good lord:-my lord, I should say rather;

'Tis sin to flatter; "good" was little better: [“Good Gloster" and "good devil" were alike. And both preposterous; therefore, not "good lord."]

Glo. Sirrah, leave us to ourselves: we must confer. [Exit Lieutenant.

K. Hen. So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf;

So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece,

And next his throat unto the butcher's knife.What scene of death hath Roscius now to act?

10

Glo. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind;

The thief doth fear each bush an officer.

K. Hen. The bird that hath been limed1 in a bush,

With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush;

And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird,
Have now the fatal object in my eye
Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught,
and kill'd.

Glo. Why, what a peevish fool was that of
Crete,

That taught his son the office of a fowl! And yet, for all his wings, the fowl was drown'd.

20

K. Hen. [I, Dædalus; my poor boy, Icarus; Thy father, Minos, that denied our course; The sun, that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy,

Thy brother Edward; and thyself, the sea, Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life.] Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words! My breast can better brook thy dagger's point

Than can my ears that tragic history. But wherefore dost thou come? is't for my life?

Glo. Think'st thou I am an executioner? 30 K. Hen. A persecutor, I am sure, thou art: If murdering innocents be executing, Why, then thou art an executioner.

Glo. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption.

1 Limed, i.e. trapped.

And many an orphan's water-standing eye— Men for their sons, wives for their husbands' fate,

And orphans for their parents' timeless death-]

Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born. The owl shriek'd at thy birth,--an evil sign; The night-crow3 cried, aboding luckless time; [Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempest shook down trees;

The raven rook'd her on the chimney's top, And chatt'ring pies in dismal discords sung.] Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope,

50

[An indigested and deformed lump, Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree.] Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast born,

To signify thou cam'st to bite the world: And, if the rest be true which I have heard, Thou cam'st

Glo. I'll hear no more:--die, prophet, in thy speech: [Stabs him. For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd. K. Hen. Ay, and for much more slaughter after this.

O God, forgive my sins, and pardon thee!

59

}

I have no brother, I am like no brother; 80 And this word "love," which greybeards call divine,

Be resident in men like one another,
And not in me: I am myself alone.-
Clarence, beware; thou keep'st me from the
light:

But I will sort a pitchy day for thee;
For I will buzz abroad such prophecies,
That Edward shall be fearful of his life;
And then, to purge his fear, I'll be thy death.
King Henry and the prince his son are gone:

1 Sort, select, find.