Glo. Your eyes drop mill-ftones, when fools eyes drop

tears..

I like you, lads; about your bufinefs; go. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Tower.

Enter Clarence and Brakenbury.

Brak. WHY looks your Grace fo heavily to-day?

Clar. O, I have paft a miferable night,

So full of ugly fights, of ghaftly dreams,
That, as I am a chriftian faithful man,
I would not spend another fuch a night-
Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days:
So full of difmal terror was the time.

Brak. What was your dream, my Lord? Ipray you tell me. Clar. Methought, that I had broken from the Tower; And was embark'd to crofs to Burgundy,

And in my company my brother Glo'fter;
Who from my cabin tempted me to walk

Upon the hatches. Thence we look'd tow'rd England,
And cited up a thousand heavy times,
During the wars of York and Lancaster,
That had befal'n us. As we pac'd along
Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
Methought, that Glo'fter ftumbled; and in falling
Struck me (that fought to stay him) over-board,
Into the tumbling billows of the main.

Lord, Lord, methought, what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noife of waters in my ears!
What fights of ugly death within mine eyes!
I thought, I fawra thoufand fearful wracks;
A thousand men, that fifhes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Ineftimable ftones, unvalued jewels.

Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in those holes,
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept,
As 'twere in fcorn of eyes, reflecting gems;
That woo'd the flimy bottom of the deep,
And mock'd the dead bones that lay fcatter'd by.

Brak.

Brak. Had you fuch leifure in the time of death, To gaze upon the fecrets of the deep?

Clar. Methought, I had; and often did I ftrive
To yield the ghoft; but ftill the envious flood
Kept in my foul, and would not let it forth
To find the empty, vaft, and wand'ring air;
But fmother'd it within my panting bulk,
Which almoft burft to belch it in the sea.
Brak. Awak'd you not with this fore agony?
Clar. No, no, my dream was lengthned after life.
then began the tempeft to my foul:

I paft, methought, the melancholy flood,
With that grim ferry-man, which poets write of,
Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.

The firft that there did greet my ftranger foul,
Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick,
Who cry'd aloud-What fcourge for perjury
Can this dark monarchy afford falfe Clarence?
And fo he vanish'd. Then came wand'ring by
A fhadow like an angel, with bright hair
Dabbled in blood, and he fhriek'd out aloud-
Clarence is come, falfe, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence,
That ftabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury;
Seize on him, furies, take him to your torments!
With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends
Inviron'd me, and howled in mine cars
Such hideous cries, that with the very noife
I, trembling, wak'd; and for a feafon after
Could not believe but that I was in hell.
Such terrible impreffion made my dream.

Brak. No marvel, Lord, that it affrighted you;
I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.

Clar. Ah! Brakenbury, I have done thofe things, That now give evidence against my foul,

For Edward's fake; and, fee, how he requites me! O God! if my deep prayers cannot appeafe thee, But thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds,

Yet execute thy wrath on me alone:

O, fpare my guiltlefs wife, and my poor children!
VOL. V.

K

I

I pr'ythee, Brakenbury, ftay by me;

My foul is heavy, and I fain would fleep.

Brak. I will, my Lord; God give your Grace good rest! Sorrow breaks feafons and repofing hours,

[Afide.
Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night.
Princes have but their titles for their glories,
An outward honour, for an inward toil;
And, for unfelt imaginations,

They often feel a world of restless cares :
So that between their titles, and low name,
There's nothing differs but the outward fame.

Enter the two Murderers.

1 Vil. Ho, who's here?

Brak. In God's name, what art thou? how cam'ft thou hither?

2 Vil. I would fpeak with Clarence, and I came hither on any legs.

Brak. What, fo brief?

1 Vil. 'Tis better, Sir, than to be tedious. Let him fee our commiffion, and talk no more.

Brak. [Reads] I am in this commanded, to deliver The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands.

I will not reafon what is meant hereby,
Because I will be guiltless of the meaning.
There lies the Duke afleep, and there the keys.
I'll to the King, and signify to him,

That thus I have refign'd to you my charge.

[Exit. 1 Vil. You may, Sir, 'tis a point of wisdom: fare

you well.

2 Vil. What, fhall we ftab him as he fleeps? 1 Vil. No; he'll fay, 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes.

2 Vil. When he wakes! why, fool, he fhall never wake until the great judgment-day.

1 Vil. Why, then he'll fay, we ftabb'd him fleeping. 2 Vil. The urging of that word, judgment, hath bred a kind of remorfe in me.

1 Vil. What? art thou afraid?

2 Vil. 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 Vil. I'll back to the Duke of Glofter, and tell him so. 2 Vil. Nay, pr'y thee, ftay a little: I hope, this holy humour of mine will change; it was wont to hold me but while one would tell twenty.

1 Vil. How doft thou feel thyfelf now?

2 Vil. Faith, fome certain dregs of confcience are yet within me.

1 Vil. Remember the reward, when the deed's done. 2 Vil. Come, he dies: I had forgot the reward. 1 Vil. Where's thy confcience now;

2 Vil. O, in the Duke of Glo'fter's purse.

1 Vil. When he opens his purfe to give us our reward, thy confcience flies out.

2 Vil. 'Tis no matter, let it go; there's few or none will entertain it.

1 Vil. What if it come to thee again?

2 Vil. I'll not meddle with it; it is a dangerous thing, it makes a man a coward: a man cannot fteal, but it accuseth him; a man cannot fwear, but it checks him; a man cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it detects him. 'Tis a blufhing fhame-fac'd fpirit, that mutinies in a man's bofom: it fills one full of obftacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold, that by chance I found. It beggars any man, that keeps it. It is turn'd out of towns and cities for a dangerous thing; and every man, that means to live well, endeavours to truft to himself, and live without it.

1 Vil. "Tis even now at my elbow, perfuading me not to kill the Duke.

2 Vil. Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him not: he would infinuate with thee but to make thee figh. 1 Vil. I am strong fram'd, he cannot prevail with me. 2 Vil. Spoke like a tall fellow, that refpects his reputation. Come, fhall we fall to work?

1 Vil. Take him over the coftard, with the hilt of thy fword; and then throw him into the malmfey-but, in the next room.

2 Vil. O excellent device, and make a fop of him. 1 Vil. Soft, he wakes. Shall I ftrike?

2 Vil. No, we'll reafon with him.

Clar. Where art thou, keeper, give me a cup of wine. 2 Vil. You fhall have wine enough, my Lord, anon. Clar. In God's name, what art thou?

1 Vil. A man, as you are.

Clar. But not, as I am, royal.

1 Vil. Nor you, as we are, loyal.

Clar. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. Vil. My voice is now the King's, my looks mine own. Clar. How darkly, and how deadly doft thou speak? Your eyes do menace me why look you pale? Who fent you hither? wherefore do you come? Both. To, to, to

Clar. To murder me?
Both. Ay, ay.

Clar. You fcarcely have the hearts to tell me fo! And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. Wherein, my friends, have I offended you?

1 Vil. Offended us you have not, but the King. Clar. I fhall be reconcil'd to him again.

2 Vil. Never, my Lord, therefore prepare to die.
Clar. Are you call'd forth from out a world of men,
To flay the innocent? what's my offence?
Where is the evidence, that doth accuse me?
What lawful queft have giv'n their verdict up
Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounc'd
The bitter fentence of poor Clarence' death?
Before I be convict by courfe of law,

To threaten me with death, is moft unlawful.
I charge you, as you hope to have redemption,
That you depart, and lay no hands on me:
The deed, you undertake, is damnable.

Vil What we will do, we do upon command.
2 Vil. And he, that hath commanded, is our King.
Clar. Erroneous vaffals! the great King of Kings
Hath in the table of his law commanded,

That thou fhalt do no murder; will you then
Spurn at his edi&t, and fulfil a man's?

Take