Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood
Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
Glou. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;
I will deliver you, or else lie for you.
Meantime, have patience.

Clar.

115

I must perforce. Farewell. Exeunt Clarence [Brakenburg, and Guard]. Glou. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return, Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so, That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, If heaven will take the present at our hands. But who comes here? The new-delivered Hast

ings?

Enter Lord Hastings.

Hast. Good time of day unto my gracious lord!
Glou. As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain !
Well are you welcome to the open air.

120

How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment? Hast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must; 126 But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks That were the cause of my imprisonment. Glou. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too ; For they that were your enemies are his, 130 And have prevail'd as much on him as you. Hast. More pity that the eagles should be mew'd,

Whiles kites and buzzards play at liberty.

Glou. What news abroad?

Hast. No news so bad abroad as this at home: 135
The King is sickly, weak, and melancholy,
And his physicians fear him mightily.

Glou. Now, by Saint John, that news is bad indeed.
O, he hath kept an evil diet long,

And overmuch consum'd his royal person.
"Tis very grievous to be thought upon.
Where is he? In his bed?

Hast. He is.

Glou. Go you before, and I will follow you.

140

Exit Hastings.

145

He cannot live, I hope; and must not die
Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven.
I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence
With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments;
And, if I fail not in my deep intent,
Clarence hath not another day to live;

150

155

Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,
And leave the world for me to bustle in!
For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.
What though I kill'd her husband and her father?
The readiest way to make the wench amends
Is to become her husband and her father;
The which will I; not all so much for love
As for another secret close intent,
By marrying her which I must reach unto.
But yet I run before my horse to market.

160

Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and

reigns;

When they are gone, then must I count my gains.

SCENE II

[The same.

Another street.]

Exit.

Enter the corpse of King Henry VI, with [Gentlemen and] halberds to guard it, [among them Tressel and Berkeley;] Lady Anne being the mourner.

Anne. Set down, set down your honourable load,
If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,
Whilst I a while obsequiously lament
The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.

[The coffin is set down.]

Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!
Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!
Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost

5

To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,

Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaught'red son,

10

Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these

wounds!

Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life,

I

pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.

O cursed be the hand that made these holes!

Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it! 15

Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence !
More direful hap betide that hated wretch
That makes us wretched by the death of thee,
Than I can wish to wolves, to spiders, toads,
Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!
If ever he have child, abortive be it,
Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,
Whose ugly and unnatural aspect

20

May fright the hopeful mother at the view;
And that be heir to his unhappiness!

25

If ever he have wife, let her be made

More miserable by the death of him

Than I am made by my young lord and thee!
Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load,
Taken from Paul's to be interred there;

And still, as you are weary of this weight,
Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse.

30

[The bearers take up the coffin.]

Enter Gloucester.

Glou. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend

To stop devoted charitable deeds?

35

Glou. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.

Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. Glou. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command.

Advance thy halberd higher than my breast,

40

Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot,
And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.
[The coffin is set down again.]

Anne. What, do you tremble? Are you all afraid ?
Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortal,
And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.
Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!

Thou hadst but power over his mortal body,

45

His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone. Glou. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.

Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble

us not;

For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,
Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims.
If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,
Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.

50

O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds 55
Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh !
Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity;
For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood
From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells.
Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural,

Provokes this deluge most unnatural.

60

O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death!
O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his

death!

Either heaven with lightning strike the murderer dead,