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 perforce. Q. Mar. Nay, never bear me hence, despatch me here; Here sheath thy sword, I'll pardon thee my death. What! wilt thou not?-then, Clarence, do it thou. 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: 'T was sin before, but now 't is 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!

K. Edw. Where 's Richard gone?

Clar. To London, all in post; and, as I guess,

To make a bloody supper in the Tower.

[Exit.

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.

SCENE VI.-London. A Room in the Tower.' King HENRY is discovered reading". Enter GLOSTER and the Lieutenant.

Glo. Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard? K. Hen. Ay, my good lord: my lord, I should say rather:

'Tis sin to flatter; good was little better:

1 The scene in the folio, is "on the walls of the Tower"; that of the text from the "True Tragedy." 2 In f. e. the rest of this stage direction is the Lieutenant attending. Enter GLOSTER.

The night-crow cried, a boding luckless tune;'
Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempest shook down trees:
The raven rook'd' her on the chimney's top,
And chattering pies in dismal discords sung.
Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain,
And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope;
To wit, an indigest deformed lump,

Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree.

Teeth hadst thou in thy head, when thou wast born,
To signify, thou cam'st to bite the world:
And, if the rest be true which I have heard,
Thou cam'st-

Glo. I'll hear no more.-Die, prophet, in thy speech:

[Stabs him. For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd. K. Hen. Ay, and for much more slaughter after this. O! God forgive my sins, and pardon thee. [Dies.

Glo. What will the aspiring blood of Lancaster
Sink in the ground? I thought it would have mounted.
See, how my sword weeps for the poor king's death!
O, may such purple tears be always shed

From those that wish the downfall of our house !—
If any spark of life be yet remaining,
Down, down to hell; and say I sent thee thither,
[Stabs him again.

I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.
Indeed, 't is true, that Henry told me of;
For I have often heard my mother say,
I came into the world with my legs forward.
Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste,
And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right?
The midwife wonder'd; and the women cried,
"O, Jesus bless us! he is born with teeth:"
And so I was; which plainly signified
That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog.
Then, since the heavens have shap'd my body so,
Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it.
I have no brother, I am like no brother ;
And this word love, which greybeards call divine,
Be resident in men like one another,

And not in me: I am myself alone.

Clarence, beware: thou keep'st me from the light ;
But I will sort a pitchy day for thee:

1 aboding luckless time in f. e.

2 Roost.