Sivut kuvina

· For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects, * And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to? Prince. Speak like a subject, proud ambitious

York! Suppose, that I am now my father's mouth; Resign thy chair, and, where I stand, kneel thou, Whilst I propose the self-same words to thee, Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to.

Q. Mar. Ah, that thy father had been so resolvid!

· Glo. That you might still have worn the petticoat, And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster.

Prince. Let Æsop* fable in a winter's night; His currish riddles sort not with this place.

Glo. By heaven, brat, I'll plague you for that word. Q. Mar. Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to men. Glo. For God's sake, take away this captive scold. Prince. Nay, take away this scolding crook-back

rather. K. Edw. Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your

tongue. Clar. Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert.

Prince. I know my duty, you are all undutiful: Lascivious Edward, and thou perjur'd George,And thou misshapen 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 agony.

[Glo. stabs him. * Clar. And there's for twitting me with perjury.

[CLAR. stabs him.

* Let Æsop, &c.] The Prince calls Richard, for his crookedness, Æsop; and the poet, following nature, makes Richard highly incensed at the reproach.

the likeness of this railer here, &c.] That thou resemblest thy railing mother.


Q. Mar. O, kill me too! Glo. Marry, and shall. [Offers to kill her. 'K. Edw. Hold, Richard, hold, for we have done

too much. Glo. Why should she live, to fill the world with

words? K. Edw. What! doth she swoon? use means for

her recovery.

Glo. Clarence, excuse me to the king my brother; I'll hence to London on a serious matter: Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news. Clar. What, what? . Glo. The Tower! the Tower!

[Exit. Q. Mar. O, Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy mo

ther, 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, 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.• Butchers and villains, bloody cannibals! * How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp?d! • You have no children, butchers! if you had, • The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorse: * But, if you ever chance to have a child, Look in his youth to have him so cut off, · As, deathsmen! you

have rid this sweet young prince! K. Edw. Away with her; go, bear her hence per

force. Q. Mar. Nay, never bear me hence, despatch me Here sheath thy sword, I'll pardon thee my death: What! wilt thou not ?—then, Clarence, do it thou.


with words?] i. e. dispute, contention.

Clar. By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease. 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 'tis 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 put'st back. · K. Edw. Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her

hence. Q. Mar. So come to you, and yours, as to this prince!

[Exit, led out forcibly. K. Edw. Where's Richard gone?

· Clar. To London, all in post; and, as I guess, To make a bloody supper in the Tower.

K. Edw. He's sudden, if a thing comes in his head. * Now march we hence: discharge the common sort « With

pay and thanks, and let's away to London, * And see our gentle queen how well she fares; • By this, I hope, she hath a son for me. (Exeunt.


London. A Room in the Tower.

King HENRY is discovered sitting with a Book in his

Hand, the Lieutenant attending. Enter GLOSTER. Glo. Good day, my lord! What, at your book so


*'Twas sin before,] She alludes to the desertion of Clarence.



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تمر مرت FA میزنیم تا 7

Henry, the Lieutenant of the Tower: rinter Gloster. Good day, my

Lord.' that all your book'so hard ?

Publisha by C& I. Rivington London Dec 1.1803.

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