Sivut kuvina

In sharing that which you have pilled from me:
Which of you trembles not that looks on me?
If not that, I being queen, you bow like subjects;
Yet that, by you deposed, you quake like rebels?-
Ah gentle villain, do not turn away!
Glo. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou

in my sight?
Q. Mar. But repetition of what thou hast

marred :
That will I make before I let thee go.

Glo. Wert thou not banishéd on pain of death?
Q. Mar. I was: but I do find more pain in

Than death can yield me here by my abode.
A husband and a son thou ow'st to me;-
And thou, a kingdom :—all of you, allegiance.
This sorrow that I have by right is yours;
And all the pleasures you usurp are mine.

Glo. The curse my noble father laid on thee, When thou didst crown his warlike brows with

paper, And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes; And then, to dry them, gav'st the duke a clout Steeped in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland; His curses, then from bitterness of soul Denounced against thee, are all fallen upon And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed.

Q. Eliz. So just is God to right the innocent.

Hast. O’t was the foulest deed to slay that babe, And the most merciless, that e'er was heard of. Riv. Tyrants themselves wept when it was

reported. Dors. No man but prophesied revenge for it. Buck. Northumberland, then present, wept to

Long die thy happy days before thy death;
And, after many lengthened hours of grief,
Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen!
Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by,
And so wast thou Lord Hastings, when my son
Was stabbed with bloody daggers : God I pray

That none of you may live your natural age,
But by some unlooked accident cut off!
Glo. Have done thy charm, thou hateful

withered hag. Q. Mar. And leave out thee? stay, dog, for

thou shalt hear me.
If heaven have any grievous plague in store,
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,
O let them keep it till thy sins be ripe,
And then hurl down their indignation
On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace !
The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul :
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st;
And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends :
No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
Unless it be while some tormenting dream
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils :
Thou elvish-marked, abortive, rooting hog!
Thou that wast sealed in thy nativity
The slave of nature and the son of hell :
Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb:
Thou loathéd issue of thy father's loins :

of honour: thou detested-
Glo. Margaret.
Q. Mar. Richard !
Glo. Ha ?
Q. Mar. I call thee not.

Glo. I cry thee mercy, then ; for I did think That thou had'st called me all these bitter


see it.


Q. Mar. What! were you snarling all, before

I came, Ready to catch each other by the throat, And turn you all your hatred now on me? Did York's dread curse prevail so much with

Heaven, That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment, Could all but answer for that peevish brat ? Can curses pierce the clouds, and enter heaven? Why then give way, dull clouds, to my quick

curses !-Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, As ours by murder, to make him a king ! Edward, thy son, that now is Prince of Wales, For Edward, my son, that was Prince of Wales, Die in his youth by like untimely violence! Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, Outlive thy glory like my wretched self! Long may'st thou live to wail thy children's loss, And see another, as I see thee now, Decked in thy rights as thou art stalled in mine!

Q. Mar. Why so I did, but looked for no reply. O let me make the period to my curse.

Glo. "T is done by me, and ends in “Margaret." Q. Eliz. Thus have you breathed your curse

against yourself. Q. Mar. Poor painted queen, vain flourish of

my fortune! Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. The day will come that thou shalt wish for me To help thee curse this pois'nous hunchbacked

toad. Hast. False-boding woman, end thy frantic

curse, Lest to thy harm thou move our patience. Q. Mar. Foul shame upon you! you have all

moved mine. Riv. Were you well served, you would be

taught your duty.

Q. Mar. What, dost thou scorn me for my

gentle counsel, And soothe the devil that I warn thee from? O but remember this another day, When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow, And say poor Margaret was a prophetess. Live each of you the subjects to his hate, And he to yours, and all of you to God's! (Exit.

Hast. My hair doth stand on end to hear her


[ocr errors]

Q. Mar. To serve me well, you all should do

me duty; Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects. O serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty.

Dor. Dispute not with her; she is lunatic.
Q. Mar. Peace, master marquis ; you are

Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current.
O that your young nobility could judge
What 't were to lose it, and be miserable!
They that stand high have many blasts to shake

them : And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. Glo. Good counsel, marry: learn it, learn it,

marquis. Dor. It touches you, my lord, as much as me. Glo. Ay, and much more: but I was born so

high. Our aiery buildeth in the cedar's top, And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun. Q. Mar. And turns the sun to shade : alas,

alas! Witness my son, now in the shade of death, Whose bright outshining beams thy cloudy wrath Hath in eternal darkness folded

up. Your aiery buildeth in our aiery's nest : O God, that see'st it, do not suffer it! As it was won with blood, lost be it so.

Buck. Peace, peace, for shame,if not for charity.

Q. Mar. Urge neither charity nor shame to me: Uncharitably with me have you dealt, And shamefully by you my hopes are butchered. My charity is outrage, life my

shame : And in my shame still live my sorrow's rage !

Buck. Have done, have done.
Q. Mar. O princely Buckingham, I kiss thy

In sign of league and amity with thee.
Now fair befal thee and thy noble house !
Thy garments are not spotted with our blood,
Nor thou within the compass of my curse.

Buck. Nor no one here: for curses never pass The lips of those that breathe them in the air. Q. Mar. I'll not believe but they ascend the

sky, And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. O Buckingham, beware of yonder dog : Look, when he fawns he bites; and when he

bites, His venom tooth will rankle to the death. Have not to do with him, beware of him : Sin, death, and hell, have set their marks on him: And all their ministers attend on him. Glo. What doth she say, my lord of Bucking

ham ? Buck. Nothing that I respect, my gracious


Riv. And so doth mine: I muse why she's at

liberty. Glo. I cannot blame her, by God's holy mother: She hath had too much wrong, and I repent My part thereof that I have done to her.

Q. Eliz. I never did her any, to my knowledge. Glo. Yet you have all the 'vantage of her

wrong. I was too hot to do somebody good, That is too cold in thinking of it now. Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid ; He is franked up to fatting for his pains: God pardon them that are the cause thereof! Riv. A virtuous and a christian-like con

clusion, To pray

for them that have done scathe to us. Glo. So do I ever, being well advised : For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself.

[ 4 side.

Enter CATESBY. Cates. Madam, his majesty doth call for you: And for your grace : and you, my noble lords. Q. Eliz. Catesby, I come.—Lords, will you

go with me? Riv. Madam, we will attend upon your grace.

(Exeunt all but GLOSTER. Glo. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. The secret mischiefs that I set abroach, I lay unto the grievous charge of others. Clarence, whom I indeed have laid in darkness, I do beweep to many simple gulls; Namely, to Stanley, Hastings, Buckingham; And tell them 't is the Queen and her allies That stir the King against the duke my brother. Now they believe it; and withal whet me To be revenged on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey: But then I sigh, and, with a piece of scripture, Tell them that God bids us do good for evil. And thus I clothe


naked villany
With old odd ends stol'n forth of holy writ,
And seem a saint when most I play the devil.

Enter two Murderers.
But soft, here come my executioners.-
How now, my hardy, stout, resolvéd mates ?
Are you now going to despatch this thing ?


1st Murd. We are, my lord ; and come to have

the warrant, That we may be admitted where he is. Glo. Well thought upon ; I have it here about

[Gives the warrant. When you have done, repair to Crosby-place. But, sirs, be sudden in the execution; Withal obdurate ; do not hear him plead : For Clarence is well spoken, and perhaps May move your hearts to pity if you mark him. 1st Murd. Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand

to prate : Talkers are no good doers : be assured We go to use our hands, and not our tongues. Glo. Your eyes drop millstones when fools'

eyes drop tears : I like you, lads. About your business straight: Go, go, despatch. 1st Murd. We will, my noble lord.


[blocks in formation]

Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY. Brak. Why looks your grace so heavily to-day?

Clar. 0 I have passed a miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night Though 't were to buy a world of happy days : So full of dismal terror was the time. Brak. What was your dream, my lord ? I

pray you tell me. Clar. Methought that I had broken from the

Tower, And was embarked to cross to Burgundy; And in my company my brother Gloster: Who from my cabin tempted me to walk Upon the hatches: thence we looked toward

England, And cited up a thousand heavy times, During the wars of York and Lancaster, That had befall'n us. As we paced along Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, Methought that Gloster stumbled, and in falling Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard Into the tumbling billows of the main. O Lord, methought what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of water in mine ears : What sights of ugly death within mine eyes ! Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks : A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon : Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pear), Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, AU scattered in the bottom of the sea.

Some lay in dead men's skulls : and in those holes Where


did once inhabit, there were crept (As 't were in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mocked the dead bones that lay scattered by. Brak. Had you such leisure in the time of

death To gaze upon these secrets of the deep?

Clar. Methought I had; and often did I strive To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth To seek the empty, vast, and wand'ring air : But smothered it within my panting bulk, Which almost burst to belch it in the sea.

Brak. Awaked you not with this sore agony ? Clar. O no, my dream was lengthened after

life : O then began the tempest to my soul ! I passed methought the melancholy flood, With that grim ferryman which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul Was my great father-in-law, renownéd Warwick; Who cried aloud, “What scourge for perjury Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?" And so he vanished. Then came wandering by A shadow like an angel, with bright hair Dabbled in blood; and he shrieked out aloud, “ Clarence is come; false, fleeting, perjured

Clarence, That stabbed nie in the field by Tewkesbury: Sieze on him, furies, take him to your torments !" With that, methought a legion of foul fiends Environed me, and howléd in mine ears Such hideous cries, that with the very noise I trembling waked, and for a season after Could not believe but that I was in hell; Such terrible impression made my

dream. Brak. No marvel, lord, though it affrighted

you: I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.

Clar. O Brakenbury, I have done these things, That now give evidence against my soul, For Edward's sake: and see how he requites

me! O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee, But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds, Yet execute thy wrath on me alone : O spare my guiltless wife and my poor children!— I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me : My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. Brak. I will, my lord : God give your grace good rest!

[CLARENCE reposes. Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours : Makes the night morning, and the noontide

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.

[ocr errors]

Enter the two Murderers. 1st Murd. Ho! who's here? Brak. What wouldst thou, fellow; and how

cam'st thou hither? 1st Murd. I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs.

Brak. What, so brief?

2nd Murd. O sir, 't is better to be brief than tedious. Shew him our commission; talk no

Brak. I am in this commanded to deliver The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands : I will not reason what is meant hereby, Because I will be guiltless of the meaning. Here are the keys ;—there sits the duke asleep. I 'll to the King, and signify to him That thus I have resigned to you my charge.

1st Murd. You may, sir ; 'tis a point of wisdom : fare you well.

[Exit BRAKENBURY. 2nd Murd. What, shall we stab him as he sleeps ?

1st Murd. No: he 'll say 't was done cowardly, when he wakes.

2nd Murd. When he wakes! why, fool, be shall never wake until the great judgment day.

1st Murd. Why, then he'll say we stabbed bim sleeping.


(A paper is delivered to BRAKENBURY who reads it.

2nd Murd. The urging of that word "judgment" hath bred a kind of remorse in me.

1st Murd. What! art thou afraid ?

2nd Murd. Not to kill him, having a warrant for it: but to be damned for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend me.

1st Murd. I thought thou hadst been resolute. 2nd Murd. So I am-to let him live.

1st Murd. I'll back to the Duke of Gloster, and tell him so.

2nd Murd. Nay, I pr'y thee stay a little. I hope this holy humour of mine will change : it was wont to hold me but while one would tell twenty.

1st Murd. How dost thou feel thyself now?

2nd Murd. 'Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me.

1st Murd. Remember our reward when the deed's done.

2nd Murd. Come, he dies: I had forgot the reward.

1st Murd. Where's thy conscience now? 2nd Murd. In the Duke of Gloster's purse. 1st Murd. So, when he


his give us our reward, thy conscience flies out.

2nd Murd. 'Tis no matter : let it go : there's few or none will entertain it.

1st Murd. What, if it come to thee again ?

2nd Murd. I'll not meddle with it, it is a dangerous thing : it makes a man a coward. A man cannot steal but it accuseth him; a man cannot swear but it checks him; a man cannot lie with his neiglıbour's wife but it detects him. 'Tis a blushing shame-faced spirit, that mutinies in a man's bosom: it fills one full of obstacles : it made me once restore a purse of gold that by chance I found : it beggars any man that keeps it. It is turned out of all towns and cities for a dangerous thing; and every man that means to live well, endeavours to trust to himself, and live without it.

1st Murd. Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me not to kill the duke.

2nd Murd. Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him not: he would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh.

1st Murd. I am strong-framed, he cannot pre

1st Murd. No, we 'll reason with him.

Clar. Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine.

1st Murd. You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon.

Clar. In God's name, what art thou? 1st Murd. A man, as you are. Clar. But not, as I am, royal. 1st Murd. Nor you, as we are, loyal. Clar. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are

humble. 1st Murd. My voice is now the King's, my

looks mine own. Clar. How darkly and how deadly dost thou

speak! Your eyes do menace me. Why look you pale? Who sent you hither? wherefore do you come?

Both Murd. To, to, to-
Clar. To murder me?
Both Murd. Ay, ay.

Clar. You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so,
And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it.
Wherein, my friends, have I offended you?
1st Murd. Offended us you have not, but the

King. Clar. I shall be reconciled to him again. 2nd Murd. Never, my lord : therefore

prepare to die. Clar. Are you called forth from out a world

purse to

of men

To slay the innocent ? What is my offence ?
Where is the evidence that doth accuse me?
What lawful quest have given their verdict up
Unto the frowning judge; or who pronounced
The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death ?
Before I be convict by course of law,
To threaten me with death is most unlawful.
I charge you as you hope to have redemption,
By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins,
That you depart and lay no hands on me:
The deed you undertake is damnable.
1st Murd. What we will do, we do upon com-

mand. 2nd Murd. And he that hath commanded is

our king. Clar. Erroneous vassal! the great King of

kings Hath in the table of his law commanded That thou shalt do no murder : wilt thou, then, Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's ? Take heed: for he holds vengeance in his hand, To hurl upon their heads that break his law. 2nd Murd. And that same vengeance doth he

hurl on thee,
For false forswearing, and for murder too .
Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight
In quarrel of the house of Lancaster.

vail with me.

2nd Murd. Spoke like a tall fellow that respects his reputation.

Come, shall we fall to work? 1st Murd. Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy sword, and then throw him into the malmsey-butt in the next room.

2nd Murd. O excellent device! and make a sop of him.

1st Murd. Soft! he wakes. 2nd Murd. Strike.

« EdellinenJatka »