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Glo.

Enter GLOSTER.

Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen ;

And, princely peers, a happy time of day!

K. Edw. Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day. Brother, we have done deeds of charity;

Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate,

Between these swelling wrong-incenséd 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 :

I thank my God for my humility.

Q. Eliz. A holiday 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 scorn his corse.

Riv.

Who knows not he is dead! who knows he is? 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 one in this presence But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks.

K. Edw. Is Clarence dead? the order was revers'd. Glo. But he, poor man, by your first order died, And that a wingéd 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, but 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 prithee, peace: my soul is full of sorrow. Stan. I will not rise, unless your highness hear me. K. Edw. Then say at once what is it thou requestest. Stan. The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life ; Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman

Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk.

K. Edw. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death, 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 su'd to me for him? who, in my rage,
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 of 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 beholding 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.-Ah,
Poor Clarence !

Glo.

[He swoons, and is carried out, followed by QUEEN,
HASTINGS, RIVERS, DORSET, and GREY.
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.-But, come, let us in,

To comfort Edward with our company.

Buck.

We wait upon your grace.

Enter in haste Two Attendants, meeting.

[Exeunt.

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Sec. Att. Ill news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better : I fear, I fear, 'twill prove a giddy world.

Third Att.

death?

Sec. Att.
Third Att.

Enter another Attendant.

Doth the news hold of good King Edward's

Ay, ay, it is too true: God help, the while! Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. First Att. No, no; by God's good grace, his son shall reign. Woe to that land that's govern'd by a child! In him there is a hope of government;

Third Att.

Sec. Att.

That, in his nonage, council under him,

And, in his full and ripen'd years, himself,

No doubt, shall then, and till then, govern well.

First Att. So stood the state when Henry the Sixth
Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old.
Third Att. Stood the state so?

God wot;

No, no, good friends,

For then this land was famously enrich'd
With politic grave counsel; then the king
Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace.

First Att. Why, so hath this, both by his father and
mother.

Third Att. 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 haught and proud:

And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule,

This sickly land might solace as before.

First Att. Come, come, we fear the worst; all will be well.

Third Att.

When clouds are seen, wise men put on their

cloaks;

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.

Sec. Att. Truly, the hearts of men are full of fear. Third Att. 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 waters swell before a boisterous storm.

But leave it all to God.

First Att.

Let us away.

[Exeunt.

Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, distractedly; RIVERS and DORSET

following her.

2. Eliz. O, who shall hinder me to wail and weep,

To chide my fortune, and torment myself?

I'll join with black despair against my soul,

And to myself become an enemy.

Enter DUCHESS OF YORK.

Duch. What means this scene of rude impatience?
Q. Eliz. 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?
If you will live, lament; if die, be brief,

That our swift-wingéd souls may catch the king's ;
Or, like obedient subjects, follow him

To his new kingdom of perpetual rest.

Duch. 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,

And liv'd by looking on his images:

But now two mirrors of his princely semblance
Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death,
And I for comfort have but one false glass,
That grieves me when I see my shame in him.
Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother,
And hast the comfort of thy children left thee:

But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms,
And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble hands,—
Clarence and Edward. O, what cause have I—
Thine being but a moiety of my grief—
To over-go thy plaints and drown thy cries!
Q. Eliz. Give me no help in lamentation;
I am not barren to bring forth complaints:
All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes,
That I, being govern'd by the watery moon,
May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world!
Ah for my husband, for my dear lord Edward!

Duch.
Q. Eliz.
Duch.
Q. Eliz.

Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence! What stay had I but Edward? and he's gone. What stays had I but they? and they are gone. Was never widow had so dear a loss ! Duch. Was never mother had so dear a loss! Alas, I am the mother of these griefs!

She for an Edward weeps, and so do I;

I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she.

On me pour tears! I am your sorrow's nurse,
And I will pamper it with lamentations.

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