Brother, we have done deeds of charity; peers. Glo. A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege.Among this princely heap, if any here, By false intelligence, or wrong surmise, Hold me a foe; If I unwittingly, or in my rage, Have aught committed that is hardly borne To reconcile me to his friendly peace : I hate it, and desire all good men's love.- If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us ;- With whom my soul is any jot at odds, Q. Eliz. A holy-day shall this be kept hereafter:- 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 re vers'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, 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 pry thee, 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? VOL. V. P mind. Had so much grace to put it in my [Exeunt King, Queen, Hastings, Rivers, Dorset, Glo. This is the fruit of rashness!-Mark'd you not, How that the guilty kindred of the queen God will revenge it. Come, lords; will you go, 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? Duch. No, boy. 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, Duch. My pretty cousins, you mistake me both; I do lament the sickness of the king, As loth 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 importune Duch. Peace, children, peace! the king doth Incapable1 and shallow innocents, You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death. Son. Grandam, we can: for my good uncle Gloster Told me, And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice! 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 To chide my fortune, and torment myself? Duch. What means this scene of rude impatience? Q. Eliz. To make an act of tragic violence:Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead. (1) Ignorant. 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. Duch. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow, But now two mirrors of his princely semblance How can we aid you with our kindred tears? 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 wat'ry moon, May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! Ah, for my husband, for my dear lord Edward! Chil. Ah, for our father, for our dear lord Clarence! Duch. Alas, for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence! Q. Eliz. What stay had I, but Edward? and he's gone. Chil. What stay had we, but Clarence? and he's gone. |