That all without desert have frown'd on me ;- With whom my soul is any jot at odds, Q. Eliz. A holyday shall this be kept hereafter :I would to God, all strifes were well compounded.My sovereign lord, I do beseech your highness To take our brother Clarence to your grace. Glo. Why, madam, have I offer'd 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. he is? Q. Eliz. All-seeing heaven, what a world is this! sence, But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. K. Edw. Is Clarence dead? the order was revers'd. Glo. But he, poor man, by your first order died, And that a winged 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, Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, Enter STANLEY. Stan. A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! K. Edw. I pr'ythee, 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 re quest'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 ? All thin and naked, to the numb-cold night? For him, poor soul.-The proudest of you all On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this.- [Exeunt King, Queen, Hast. Riv. Dor. and Grey. Glo. This is the fruit of rashness !-Mark'd you not, How that the guilty kindred of the queen Look'd pale, when they did hear of Clarence' death? O! they did urge it still unto the king: God will revenge it. Come, lords; will you go, To comfort Edward with our company? Buck. We wait upon your grace, [Exeunt. SCENE II. The Same. Enter the Duchess of YORK, with a Son and Daughter of Clarence. Son. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead? Daugh. Why do you weep so oft? and beat your breast; And cry- Clarence, my unhappy son! Son. Why do you look on us, and shake your head, And call us-orphans, wretches, cast-aways, If that our noble father be alive? Duch. My pretty cousins, you mistake me both; I do lament the sickness of the king, As loath 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 Daugh. And so will I. Duch. Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well: Incapable and shallow innocents, You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death. Son. Grandam, we can: for my good uncle Gloster Told me, the king, provok'd to't by the queen, Devis'd impeachments to imprison him: Duch. Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice! Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. Son. Think you, my uncle did dissemble, grandam? Duch. Ay, boy. Son. I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this? Enter Queen ELIZABETH, distractedly; RIVERS, and DORSET, following her. Q. Eliz. Ah! who shall hinder me to wail and weep? To chide my fortune, and torment myself? I'll join with black despair against my soul, And to myself become an enemy. Duch. What means this scene of rude impatience? Q. Eliz. To make an act of tragick violence :Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead Why grow the branches, when the root is gone? Why wither not the leaves, that want their sap?If you will live, lament; if die, be brief; That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; Or, like obedient subjects, follow him To his new kingdom of perpetual rest. |