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. K. Edw. Who knows not, he is dead! who knows he is?· Q. Eliz All-seeing heaven, what a world is this! Buck. Look I só pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest? Dots Ay my good Lord; and no man in the presence, 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, God grant, that some, less noble, and less loyal, 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 ནྟི hear me. K. Edw. K. Edw. Then say at once, what is it thou réquest❜st. Stan. The forfeit, Sovereign, of my servant's Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman, K. Edw. Have I a tongue to doom my bro ther's death, And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave? Who sued to me for him? who, in my wrath, And I, unjustly too, must grant it you :A But for my brother, not a man would speak, For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all: VOL. XII. Yet none of you would once plead for his life. On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this. Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. 0, [Exeunt King, Queen, HASTINGS, RIVERS, Glo. This is the fruit of rashness! you not, How that the guilty kindred of the Queen Mark'd 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, [Exeunt. Enter the Duchess of York, with a son and daughter of Clarence. Son. Good grandam, tell us Duch. No, boy. dead? is our father Daugh. Why do you weep so oft? and beat your breast; And cry, O 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; Son. Then, grandam, you conclude that he is The King my uncle is to blame for this: 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, And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice! He is my son, ay, and therein my shame, 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 this? Enter Queen ELIZABETH, distractedly; RIVERS, and DORSET, following her. A Q. Eliz. Ah! who shall hinder me to wail and To chide my fortune, and torment myself? Duch. What means this scene of rude impa- 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 Bap? 6 If you will live, lament; if die, be brief; Or, like obedient subjects, follow him Duch. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow, As I had title in thy noble husband! But now, two mirrors of his princely semblance arms, And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble hands, Clarence, and Edward. O, what cause have I, (Thine being but a moiety of my grief,) |