Rivers and Hastings, take each other's hand;
Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love.
Riv. By heaven, my soul is purg'd from
grudging hate;

And with my hand I seal my true heart's
love.

Hast. So thrive I, as I truly swear the like!
K. Edw. Take heed, you dally not before
your king;

Lest he, that is the supreme King of kings,
Confound your bidden falsehood, and award
Either of you to be the other's end.

Hast. So prosper I, as I swear perfect love!
Riv. And I, as I love Hastings with my
heart!

K. Edw. Madam, yourself are not exempt in
this,-

Nor your sou Dorset,-Buckingham, nor you ;—
You have been factious one against the other.
Wife, love lord Hastings, let him kiss your
hand;

And what you do, do it unfeignedly.

Q. Eliz. There, Hastings;-I will never more
remember

Our former hatred, So thrive I and mine!
K. Edw. Dorset, embrace him,-Hastings,
love lord marquis.

Dor. This interchange of love, 1 here protest,
Upon my part shall be inviolable.
Hast. And so swear I.

[Embraces DORSET. K. Edw. Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league

With thy embracements to my wife's allies,
And make me happy in your unity.

Buck. Whenever Buckingham doth turn his
hate

Upon your grace, [To the QUEEN.] but with

all duteous love

Doth cherish you and your's, God punish me
With hate in those where I expect most love!
When I have most need to employ a friend,
And most assured that he is a friend,
Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile,
Be he unto me! this do I beg of heaven,
When I am cold in love, to you, or your's.
[Embracing RIVERS, &C.
K. Edw. A pleasing cordial, princely Buck-
ingham,

Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart.
There wanteth now our brother Gloster here,
To make the blessed period of this peace.
Buck. And, in good time, here comes the no-
ble duke.

Enter GLOSTER.

Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham,
If ever any grudge were lodg'd between US;
Of you, lord Rivers, and lord Grey, of you;
That all without desert have frown'd ca me;
Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen ; indeed

all.

I do not know that Englishman alive,
With whom my soul is any jot at odds,
More than the infaut that is born to-night:
I thank my God for my humility.

Q. Eliz. A holy-day shall this be kept here-
after :-

I would to God, all strifes were well comm
pounded.-

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.
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 so pale, lord Dorset, as the rest?

Dor. 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 corntergiand,
That came too lag to see him buried :—
God grant that some, less noble, and less
loyal,

Nearer in bloody thoughts, and not in blood,
Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence
did,

And yet go current from suspicion.

Enter STANLEY.

Stan. A boon my sovereign, for my service

done!

K. Edw. I pr'ythee, peace; my soul is fall of

sorrow.

Stan. I will not rise, unless your highness hear me.

K. Edw. Then say at once, what is it thou request'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. Ed. Have I a tongue to doom my bro-
ther's death,

And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave ?
My brother kill'd
no man, his fault was
thought,

Glo. Good-morrow to my sovereign king and And yet his punishment was bitter death.

queen;

And, princely peers, a happy time of day!
K. Edw. Happy, indeed, as we have spent
the day :-

Brother, we have done deeds of charity;
Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate,
Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.
Glo. A blessed labour, my most sovereign
liege.-

Among this princely heap, if any bere,

Who sued to me for him? who, in my wrash,
Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advis'd
Who spoke of brotherhood? who spoke of

love ?

Who told me, how the poor son did forsake
The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me!
Who told me, in the field at Tewksbury,
When Oxford had me down, he rescued me,
And said, Dear brother, live, and be a king?
Who told me, when we both lay in the field,

Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me
Even in his garments; and did give himself,
All thin and naked, to the numb-cold night?
All this from my remembrance brutish wrath
Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you

Had so much grace to put it in my mind.
But when your carters, or your waiting-vas-
sals,

Have done a drunken slaughter, and defac'd
The precious image of our dear Redeemer,

You straight are on your knees for pardon,
pardon;

And I, unjustly too, must grant it you :-
But for my brother, not a man would speak,
Nor 1 (ungracious) speak unto myself

For him, poor soul.-The proudest of you all
Have been beholden to him in his life.

Yet none of you would once plead for his life.
O God! I fear, thy justice will take hold

On me, and you, and mine, and your's, for

this.

Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. O
Poor Clarence !

[Exeunt KING, QUEEN, HASTINGS, RIVERS,
DORSET, 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?

Oh they did urge it still unto the king:

Duch. Ay, boy.
Son. I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is
this!

Enter Queen ELIZABETH distractedy; 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 impa-
tience?

Q. Eliz. To make an act of tragic 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 subject, follow him
To his new kingdom of perpetual rest.

Duch. Ah! so much interest have I in thy
sorrow,

As I had title in thy noble husband!

I have bewept a worthy husband's death,
And liv'd by looking on his images:

But now two mirrors of his princely semblance
Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death,
And I for comfort have but one false glass.

God will revenge it. Come, lords; will you That grieves me when I see my shame in him.

Enter the Duchess of YORK, with a Sox and
DAUGHTER of Clarence.

Sen. Good grandam, tell us, is our father
dead?

Duch. No, boy.

Daugh. Why do you weep so oft? and beat

your breast;

And cry-0 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
With earnest prayers all to that effect.

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. Graudam, we can: for my good uncle
Gloster

Told me, the king, provok'd to't by the queen,
Devis'd impeachments to imprison him;
And when my uncle told me so, he wept,
And pitied me, and kindly kiss'd my cheek;
Bade me rely on him, as on my father,
And he would love me dearly as his child.
Duch. Ah! that deceit should steal such

tle shapes,

Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother,
And hast the comfort of thy children left thee:
But death hath snatch'd any husband from my

How can we aid you with our kindred tears? Daugh. Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd

Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept !

Q. Eliz. Give me no help in lamentation,
I am not barren to bring forth laments:
All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes,
That I, being govern'd by the watery moon,
May send forth plenteous tears to drown the
world!

Ah! for my husband, for my dear lord Ed-
ward!

Chil. Ah! for our father, for our dear lord
Clarence!

Duch. Alas! for both, both mine, Edward and
Clarence!

Q. Elis. What stay had 1, but Edward? and
he's gone.

Chil. What stay had we, but Clarence? and he's gone.

Duch. What stays had I, but they? and they are gone.

Q. Eliz. Was never widow, had so dear a loss.

Chil. Were never orphans, had so dear a
loss.

Duch. Was never mother had so dear a loss.
Alas! I am the mother of these griefs;
Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general.
She for an Edward weeps, and so do I
1;
I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she :
These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I:
gen-1 for an Edward weep, so do not they :-

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?

• Ignorant.

Alas! you three, on me, threefold distress'd,
Pour all your tears, I am your sorrow's nurse.
And I will pamper it with lamentations.

Dor. Comfort, dear mother; God is much
displeas'd,
That you take with unthankfulness his doing;'

• Divide

In common worldly things, 'tis call'd-ungrate- For, by the way, I'll sort occasion,

Which, haply, by much company might be When the sun sets, who doth not look for

III

2 Cit. Marry, we were sent for to the justice's.

3 Cit. And so was I; I'll bear you company.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-The same.-A Room in the
Palace.

Enter the Archbishop of YORK, the young
Duke of YORK, Queen ELIZABETH, and the
Duchess of YORK.

Arch. Last night I heard, they lay at Stony-
Stratford ;

And at Northampton they do rest to-night:
To-morrow, or next day, they will be here.
Duch. I long with all my heart to see the
prince;

hope, he is much grown since last I saw him.
Q. Eliz. But I hear, no; they say, my son of
York

Hath almost overta'en him in his growth.
York. Ay, mother, but I would not have it

Duch. Why, my young cousin; it is good to grow.

York. Grandam, one night, as we did sit at
supper,

My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow
More than my brother; Ay, quoth my uncle
Gloster,

Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow

apace :

And since, metbinks, I would not grow so fast, Because sweet flowers are slow, and weeds make haste.

Duch. 'Good faith, 'good faith, the saying did
not hold

In him that did object the same to thee:
He was the wretched'st thing, when he was
young,

So long a growing, and so leisurely,

That, if his rule were true, he should be gra

cious.

Arch. And so, no doubt, he is, my gracious

madam.

Duch. I hope, he is; but yet let mothers

doubt.

York. Now, by my troth, if I had been re

member'd,

I could have given my uncle's grace a flout,
To touch his growth, nearer than he touch'd

mise.

Duch. How, my young York? I pr'ythee, let me hear it.

York. Marry, they say, my uncle grew so

fast,

That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old;
'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth.
Grandam, this would have been a biting jest.
Duch. I pr'ythee, pretty York, who told thee
this ?

York. Grandam, his nurse.

Duch. His nurse? why, she was dead ere thou wast born.

York. If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me.

Q. Eliz. A parlous boy: Go to, you are too shrewd.

Arch. Good madam, be not angry with child.

Q. Eliz. Pitchers have ears.

hath committed them!
Mess. The mighty dukes,
Gloster and Buckingham.

Q. Eliz. For what offence?

Mess. The sum of all I can, I have disclos'd;
Why, or for what, the nobles were committed,
Is all unknown to me, my gracious lady.

Q. Eliz. Ah! me, I see the ruin of my
house!

The tiger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind;
Insulting tyranny begins to jut

Upon the innocent and awless throne :-
Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre !
I see, as in a map the end of all.

Duch. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days,
How many of you have mine eyes beheld!
My husband lost his life to get the crown;
And often up and down my sons were tost,
For me to joy, and weep, their gain, and loss:
And being seated, and domestic broils
Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerers,
Make war upon themselves; brother to bro-
ther,
Blood to blood, self 'gainst self:-0 preposter-

ous

And frantic courage, end thy damned spleen;
Or let me die, to look on death no more!
Q. Eliz. Come, come, my boy, we will to
sanctuary,
Madam, farewell.

Duch. Stay, I will go with you.

Q. Eliz. You have no cause.

Arch. My gracious lady, go, [To the QUEEN.
And thither bear your treasure and your goods.
For my part, l'il resign unto your grace
The seal I keep; And so betide to me,
As well I tender you and all of your's!
Come, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary.

Your grace attended to the sugar'd words,
But look'd not on the poison of their hearts:
God keep you from them, and from such false
friends!

Prince. God keep me from false friends! but

they were none.

Glo. My lord, the mayor of London comes to

greet you.

Enter the Lord MAYOR, and his Train.

May. God bless your grace with health and happy days!

Prince. I thank you, good my lord ;-and thank you all.

[Exeunt MAYOR, &s. I thought my mother, and my brother York, the Would loug ere this have met us ou

• Perilous, dangerous.

way: