1st Murd. And, like a traitor to the name of God,

Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade

Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son.

2nd Murd. Whom thou wast sworn to cherish

and defend.

1st Murd. How canst thou urge God's dread

ful law to us,

When thou hast broke it in such dear degree?
Clar. Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed?
For Edward, for my brother, for his sake.
He sends you not to murder me for this:
For in that sin he is as deep as I.
If God will be avengéd for the deed,
O know you that he doth it publicly.

Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm :
He needs no indirect nor lawless course,
To cut off those that have offended him.

1st Murd. Who made thee, then, a bloody minister,

When gallant-springing, brave Plantagenet, That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? Clar. My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. 1st Murd. Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault,

Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee.

Clar. If you do love my brother, hate not me: I am his brother, and I love him well. If you are hired for meed, go back again, And I will send you to my brother Gloster; Who shall reward you better for my life Than Edward will for tidings of my death. 2nd Murd. You are deceived; your brother Gloster hates you.

Clar. O no, he loves me, and he holds me dear: Go you to him from me.

Clar. It cannot be: for he bewept my fortune, And hugged me in his arms, and swore with sobs That he would labour my delivery.

1st Murd. Why, so he doth, when he delivers you From this earth's thraldom to the joys of heaven. 2nd Murd. Make peace with God, for you

must die, my lord.

Clar. Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul To counsel me to make my peace with God, And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind That thou wilt war with God, by murdering me? Ah sirs, consider, he that set you on

To do this deed, will hate you for the deed. 2nd Murd. What shall we do?

Clar.

Relent, and save your souls. 1st Murd. Relent! 't is cowardly and womanish. Clar. Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish.Which of you, if you were a prince's son, Being pent from liberty, as I am now, If two such murderers as yourselves came to you, Would not entreat for life?

My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks: O if thine eye be not a flatterer, Come thou on my side, and entreat for me, As you would beg were you in my distress. A begging prince what beggar pities not? 2nd Murd. Look behind you, my lord. 1st Murd. Take that, and that! If all this will not do,

[Stabs him.

I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within.

[Exit with the body. 2nd Murd. A bloody deed, and desperately

despatched!

How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands Of this most grievous guilty murder done!

Re-enter first Murderer.

1st Murd. How now! what mean'st thou that

thou help'st me not?

By Heaven the duke shall know how slack you have been.

2nd Murd. I would he knew that I had saved his brother!

Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say: For I repent me that the duke is slain. [Exit.

1st Murd. So do not I: go, coward as thou art. Well, I'll go hide the body in some hole Till that the duke give order for his burial: And when I have my meed, I will away; For this will out, and then I must not stay.

[Exit

SCENE I.-London. A Room in the Palace. Enter KING EDWARD (led in sick), QUEEN ELIZABETH, DORSET, RIVERS, HASTINGS, BUCKINGHAM, GREY, and others.

K. Edw. Why, so: now have I done a good day's work:

You peers, continue this united league.
I every day expect an embassage

From my Redeemer to redeem me hence;
And now in peace my soul shall part to heaven,
Since I have made my friends at peace on earth.
Rivers and Hastings, take each other's hand:
Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love.
Riv. By Heaven, my soul is purged from
grudging hate;

And with my hand I seal my true heart's love.
Hast. So thrive I as I truly swear the like.
K. Edw. Take heed you dally not before your
king;

Lest He that is the supreme King of kings,
Confound your hidden falsehood, and award
Either of you to be the other's end.

Hast. So prosper I as I swear perfect love.
Riv. And I, as I love Hastings with my heart.
K. Edw. Madam, yourself are not exempt in

Dor. This interchange of love, I here protest, Upon my part shall be inviolable.

Hast. And so swear I.
[Embraces DORSET.
K. Edw. Now, princely Buckingham, seal
thou this league

Why thy embracements to my wife's allies,
And make me happy in your unity.

Buck. Whenever Buckingham doth turn his

hate

Upon your grace [to the QUEEN], but with all duteous love

Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me
With hate in those where I expect most love:
When I have most need to employ a friend,
And most assuréd that he is a friend,
Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile,
Be he unto me! This do I beg of Heaven,
When I am cold in love to you or yours.

[Embracing RIVERS, &c. K. Edw. A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham,

Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart.
There wanteth now our brother Gloster here,
To make the blesséd period of this peace.
Buck. And in good time here comes the noble
duke.

Enter GLOSTER. Glo. 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-incensed 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 lodged between us :
Of you, Lord Rivers, and Lord Grey, of you,
That all without desert have frowned 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 holy-day shall this be kept hereafter:
I would to God all strifes were well compounded.
My sovereign lord I do beseech your highness
To take your brother Clarence to your grace.
Glo. Why, madam, have I offered 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.
K. Edw. 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 man in the

presence

But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks.

K. Edw. Is Clarence dead! the order was

reversed.

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, and 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 pr'y thee, 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

request'st.

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 killed no man, his fault was thought,
And yet his punishment was bitter death.
Who sued to me for him? who, in my wrath,
Kneeled at my feet, and bade me be advised?
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 at Tewkesbury,
When Oxford had me down, he rescued 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 plucked, 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 defaced
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
Have been beholden 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.
O, poor Clarence!

all

Duch. No, boy.

Daugh. Why do you weep so oft and beat your breast,

And cry, "O Clarence, my unhappy son?"

Son. Why do you look on us, and shake your head,

And call us orphans, wretches, castaways,
If that our noble father be alive?

Duch. My pretty cousins, you mistake me both :
I do lament the sickness of the King,
As loth to lose him; not your father's death:
It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost.

Son. Then, grandam, you conclude that he is

dead.

The King my uncle is to blame for this:
God will revenge it; whom I will impórtune
With earnest prayers all to that effect.
Daugh. And so will I.

Duch. Peace, children, peace! the King doth love you well.

Incapable and shallow innocents,

You cannot guess who caused your father's death.
Son. Grandam, we can: for my good uncle
Gloster

Told me the King, provoked to 't by the Queen,
Devised impeachments to imprison him.
And when my uncle told me so, he wept,
And pitied me, and kindly kissed my cheek:

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 lived by looking on his images:

But now two mirrors of his princely semblance
Are cracked 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 snatched my husband from my
arms,

And plucked 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?
Son. Ah, aunt, you wept not for our father's
death:

How can we aid you with our kindred tears? Daugh. Our fatherless distress was left unmoaned:

Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept.

Q. Eliz. Give me no help in lamentation;
I am not barren to bring forth laments.
All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes,
That I, being governed by the watery moon,
May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world.
Ah, for my husband, for my dear lord Edward!
Chil. Ah, for our father, for our dear lord
Clarence!

Duch. Alas for both, both mine, Edward and
Clarence!

Q. Eliz. What stay had I but Edward? and
he's gone.

Chil. What stay had we but Clarence? and

he's gone.

Duch. What stays had I but they? and they

are gone.

Q. Eliz. Was never widow had so dear a loss. Chil. Were never orphans had so dear a loss. Duch. Was never mother had so dear a loss. Alas! I am the mother of these griefs: Their woes are parcelled, mine are general. She for an Edward weeps, and so do I; I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I; I for an Edward weep, so do not they.Alas! you three on me, threefold distressed, Pour all your tears. I am your sorrow's nurse, And I will pamper it with lamentations.

Dor. Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeased

That you take with unthankfulness his doing.
In common worldly things, 't is called ungrateful
With dull unwillingness to repay a debt

Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent: Much more to be thus opposite with Heaven For it requires the royal debt it lent you.

Riv. Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother,

Of the young prince your son: send straight for him,

Let him be crowned: in him your comfort lives: Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. Enter GLOSTER, BUCKINGHAM, STANLEY, HASTINGS, RATCLIFF, and others.

Glo. Sister, have comfort: all of us have caus: To wail the dimming of our shining star; But none cure their harms by wailing them.Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy,

I did not see your grace: humbly on my knee I crave your blessing.

Duch. God bless thee, and put meekness in

thy breast,

Love, charity, obedience, and true duty!

Glo. Amen: and make me die a good old man!-That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing: I marvel that her grace did leave it out. [Aside. Buck. You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing

peers,

That bear this mutual heavy load of moan,
Now cheer each other in each other's love:
Though we have spent our harvest of this king,
We are to reap the harvest of his son.
The broken rancour of your high-swollen hearts,
But lately splinted, knit and joined together
Must gently be preserved, cherished, and kept.
Me seemeth good that, with some little train,
Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be

fetched

Hither to London, to be crowned our king.

Riv. Why with some little train my lord of

Buckingham?

Buck. Marry, my lord, lest by a multitude The new-healed wound of malice should break out: Which would be so much the more dangerous By how much the estate is green and yet un

governed.

Where every horse bears his commanding rein,
And may direct his course as please himself,
As well the fear of harm as harm apparent,
In my opinion, ought to be prevented.

Glo. I hope the King made peace with all of us: And the compact is firm and true in me.

Riv. And so in me; and so, I think, in all: Yet since it is but green, it should be put To no apparent likelihood of breach, Which haply by much company might be urged. Therefore I say, with noble Buckingham, That it is meet so few should fetch the prince.