Buck. Peace, peace, for shame, if not for charity. And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd. And in my shame still live my sorrow's rage! Q. Mar. O princely Buckingham, I kiss thy hand, Now fair befall thee, and thy noble house! Buck. Nor no one here; for curses never pass 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 ;6 Glo. What doth she say, my lord of Buckingham? Q. Mar. What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle And sooth the devil that I warn thee from? O, but remember this another day, When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow; [counsel ? And say, poor Margaret was a prophetess.- And he to yours, and all of you to God's! Hast. My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses. [Exit. 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 My part thereof, that I have done to her. Q. Eliz. I never did her any, to my knowledge. I was too hot to do some body good, That is too cold in thinking of it now. [6] Possibly Milton took from hence the hint of his famous allegory. BLACKST. God pardon them that are the cause thereof! Riv. A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion, Cates. Madam, his majesty doth call for you,- [Aside. Q. Eliz. Catesby, I come :-lords, will you go with me? Riv. Madam, we will attend upon your grace. [Exeunt all but GLOSTER. Glo. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. The secret mischiefs that I set abroach, I lay unto the grievous charge of others. Clarence,-whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness,- Namely, to Stanley, Hastings, Buckingham; With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ; But soft, here come my executioners.- 1 Mur. 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: [Gives the warrant. When you have done, repair to Crosby-place. But, sirs, be sudden in the execution, Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead ; May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him. phor to Clarence, in allusion to the crest of the family of York, which was a bear, Whereto relate those famous old verses on Richard III: "The cat, the rat, and Lovel the dog, Rule all England under a hog." He uses the same metaphor in the last scene of Act IV. POPE. [8] Scath is harm, mischief. STEEVENS. 1 Mur. Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand to prate, Talkers are no good doers; be assur'd, 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 Mur. We will, my noble lord. The same. SCENE IV. [Exeunt. A room in the Tower. Enter CLARENCE and : Brak. Why looks your grace so heavily to-day? Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days; Brak. What was your dream, my lord? I pray you, tell me. Clar. Methought, that I had broken from the Tower, 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, Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, Methought, that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling, O Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea. Some lay in dead men's sculls ; and, in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept Clar. Methought, I had; and often did I strive Brak. Awak'd 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. By seeming to gaze upon it; or, as we now say, ogle it. JOHNSON. "I slept; but oh, a dream so full of terror, The pale, the trembling midnight ravisher Ne'er saw, when cold Lucretia's mourning shadow With her bright tresses, dabbled in her blood." STEEVENS. [4] Fleeting is the same as changing sides. JOHNSON. 3 VOL, VII. B 2 For Edward's sake; and, see, how he requites me !— Yet execute thy wrath on me alone : O, spare my guiltless wife, and my poor children! -I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me; My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. 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 :" 1 Mur. Ho! who's here? Brak. What wouldst thou, fellow? and how cam'st thou hither? 1 Mur. I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. Brak. What, so brief? 2 Mur. 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 : I will not reason what is meant hereby, Because I will be guiltless of the meaning. Here are the keys;-there sits the duke asleep : That thus I have resign'd to you my charge. 1 Mur. You may, sir; 'tis a point of wisdom: Fare you well. [Exit BRAKENBURY. 2 Mur. What, shall we stab him as he sleeps ? 1 Mur. No, he'll say, 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes. 2 Mur. When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake until the great judgment day. 1 Mur. Why, then he'll say, we stabb'd him sleeping. [5] They often suffer real miseries for imaginary and unreal gratification. JOHN. |