Q. Mar. I'll not believe but they ascend the sky, Look, when he fawns, he bites; and, when he bites, Sin, death, and hell, have set their marks on him; Glo. What doth she say, my lord of Buckingham? 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. Hast. My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses. 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 QEliz. I never did her any, to my knowledge. I was too hot to do somebody good, Cates. Madam, his majesty doth call for you,- [Exit. [Aside, Q. Eliz. Catesby, I come:-Lords, will you go with me? [Exeunt all but GLOSTER. Glo. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. I lay unto the grievous charge of others. Namely, to Stanley, Hastings, Buckingham; And thus I clothe my naked villany With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ; Enter two MURDERERS. But soft, here come my executioners. How now, my hardy, stout, resolved mates? 1 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 me. When you have done, repair to Crosby-place. For Clarence is well spoken, and, perhaps, [Gives the warrant. May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him. 1 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 mill-stones, when fools' eyes drop tears: I like you, lads-about your business straight; Go, go, despatch. 1 Murd. We will, my noble lord. [Exeunt. SCENE IV-The same. A Room in the Tower. Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY. Brak. Why looks your grace so heavily to-day? So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days; Brak. What was your dream, my lord? I pray you, tell me. And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy; And, in my company, my brother Gloster: Who, from my cabin tempted me to walk Upon the hatches; thence we look'd toward England, Methought that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling, O Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! *Not a pagan. Methought, I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea. Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes Clar. Methought, I had; and often did I strive Brak. Awaked you not with this sore agony? I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, The first that there did greet my stranger soul, 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- For Edward's sake; and, see, how he requites me !-- O spare my guiltless wife, and my poor children! Brak. I will, my lord; God give your grace good rest![CLARENCE reposes himself on a chair. Sorrow breaks seasons, and reposing hours Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night. An outward honour for an inward toil; And, for unfelt imaginations, They often feel a world of restless cares: Enter the two MURDERERS. 1 Murd. Ho! who's here? Brak. What wouldst thou, fellow? and how cam'st thou hither? 1 Murd. I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my_legs. Brak. What, so brief? 2 Murd. O, Sir, 'tis better to be brief than tedious : Let him see our commission; talk no more. [A paper is delivered to BRAKENBURY, who reads it. Brak. I am, in this, commanded to deliver The noble duke of Clarence to your hands:- That thus to you I have resign'd my charge. 1 Murd. You may, Sir; 'tis a point of wisdom: Fare you well. [Exit BRAKENBURY. 2 Murd. What, shall we stab him as he sleeps ? 1 Murd. No; he'll say, 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes. 2 Murd. When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake until the great judgment day. 1 Murd. Why, then he'll say, we stabb'd him sleeping. 2 Murd. The urging of that word, judgment, hath bred a kind of remorse in me. 1 Murd. What? art thou afraid? 2 Murd. Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be damn'd for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend me. 1 Murd. I thought, thou hadst been resolute. 2 Murd. So I am, to let him live. 1 Murd. I'll back to the duke of Gloster, and tell him so. 2 Murd. Nay, I pr'ythee, stay a little : I hope, this holy humour of mine will change; it was wont to hold me but while one would tell twenty. 1 Murd. How dost thou feel thyself now? 2 Murd. 'Faith some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me. Murd. Remember our reward, when the deed 's done. 2 Murd. Come, he dies; I had forgot the reward. 1 Murd. Where's thy conscience now? 2 Murd. In the duke of Gloster's purse. 1 Murd. So when he opens his purse to give us our reward, thy conscience flies out. 2 Murd. 'Tis no matter; let it go; there's few or none, will entertain it. 1 Murd. What, if it come to thee again? 2 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 neighbour'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. 1 Murd. 'Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me not to kill the duke. 2 Murd. Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him not: he would insinuate with thee, but to make thee sigh. 1 Murd. I am strong-framed, he cannot prevail with me. 2 Murd. Spoke like a tall* fellow, that respects his reputation. Come, shall we fall to work? 1 Murd. Take him over the costard+ with the hilts of thy sword, and then throw him into the malmsey-butt, in the next room. 2 Murd. O excellent device! and make a sop of him. 1 Murd. Soft! he wakes. 2 Murd. Strike. 1 Murd. No, we'll reason with him. Clar. Where art thou, keeper; give me a cup of wine. 1 Murd. You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. Clar. In God's name, what art thou? 1 Murd. A man, as you are. Clar. But not, as I am, royal. 1 Murd. Nor you, as we are, loyal. Clar. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. Your eyes do menace me: Why look you pale? Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come ? 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? 1 Murd. Offended us you have not, but the king. Clar. I shall be reconciled to him again. * Brave. + Head. + Talk. |