Act I
Scene I
London. A street.
Enter Richard, Duke of Gloucester, solus. | |
Gloucester |
Now is the winter of our discontent
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Enter Clarence, guarded, and Brakenbury. | |
Brother, good day: what means this armed guard
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Clarence |
His majesty,
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Gloucester | Upon what cause? |
Clarence | Because my name is George. |
Gloucester |
Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours;
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Clarence |
Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest
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Gloucester |
Why, this it is, when men are ruled by women:
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Clarence |
By heaven, I think there’s no man is secure
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Gloucester |
Humbly complaining to her deity
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Brakenbury |
I beseech your graces both to pardon me;
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Gloucester |
Even so; an’t please your worship, Brakenbury,
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Brakenbury | With this, my lord, myself have nought to do. |
Gloucester |
Naught to do with Mistress Shore! I tell thee, fellow,
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Brakenbury | What one, my lord? |
Gloucester | Her husband, knave: wouldst thou betray me? |
Brakenbury |
I beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal
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Clarence | We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. |
Gloucester |
We are the queen’s abjects, and must obey.
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Clarence | I know it pleaseth neither of us well. |
Gloucester |
Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;
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Clarence | I must perforce. Farewell. Exeunt Clarence, Brakenbury, and Guard. |
Gloucester |
Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne’er return,
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Enter Lord Hastings. | |
Hastings | Good time of day unto my gracious lord! |
Gloucester |
As much unto my good lord chamberlain!
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Hastings |
With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must:
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Gloucester |
No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too;
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Hastings |
More pity that the eagle should be mew’d,
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Gloucester | What news abroad? |
Hastings |
No news so bad abroad as this at home;
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Gloucester |
Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed.
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Hastings | He is. |
Gloucester |
Go you before, and I will follow you. Exit Hastings.
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Scene II
The same. Another street.
Enter the corpse of King Henry the Sixth, Gentlemen with halberds to guard it; Lady Anne being the mourner. | |
Anne |
Set down, set down your honourable load,
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Enter Gloucester. | |
Gloucester | Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. |
Anne |
What black magician conjures up this fiend,
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Gloucester |
Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul,
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Gentleman | My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. |
Gloucester |
Unmanner’d dog! stand thou, when I command:
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Anne |
What, do you tremble? are you all afraid?
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Gloucester | Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. |
Anne |
Foul devil, for God’s sake, hence, and trouble us not;
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Gloucester |
Lady, you know no rules of charity,
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Anne |
Villain, thou know’st no law of God nor man:
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Gloucester | But I know none, and therefore am no beast. |
Anne | O wonderful, when devils tell the truth! |
Gloucester |
More wonderful, when angels are so angry.
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Anne |
Vouchsafe, defused infection of a man,
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Gloucester |
Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have
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Anne |
Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make
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Gloucester | By such despair, I should accuse myself. |
Anne |
And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused;
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Gloucester | Say that I slew them not? |
Anne |
Why, then they are not dead:
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Gloucester | I did not kill your husband. |
Anne | Why, then he is alive. |
Gloucester | Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward’s hand. |
Anne |
In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw
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Gloucester |
I was provoked by her slanderous tongue,
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Anne |
Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind,
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Gloucester | I grant ye. |
Anne |
Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too
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Gloucester | The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him. |
Anne | He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. |
Gloucester |
Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither;
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Anne | And thou unfit for any place but hell. |
Gloucester | Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. |
Anne | Some dungeon. |
Gloucester | Your bed-chamber. |
Anne | Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest! |
Gloucester | So will it, madam till I lie with you. |
Anne | I hope so. |
Gloucester |
I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne,
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Anne | Thou art the cause, and most accursed effect. |
Gloucester |
Your beauty was the cause of that effect;
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Anne |
If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
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Gloucester |
These eyes could never endure sweet beauty’s wreck;
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Anne | Black night o’ershade thy day, and death thy life! |
Gloucester | Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both. |
Anne | I would I were, to be revenged on thee. |
Gloucester |
It is a quarrel most unnatural,
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Anne |
It is a quarrel just and reasonable,
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Gloucester |
He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,
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Anne | His better doth not breathe upon the earth. |
Gloucester | He lives that loves thee better than he could. |
Anne | Name him. |
Gloucester | Plantagenet. |
Anne | Why, that was he. |
Gloucester | The selfsame name, but one of better nature. |
Anne | Where is he? |
Gloucester | Here. She spitteth at him. Why dost thou spit at me? |
Anne | Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! |
Gloucester | Never came poison from so sweet a place. |
Anne |
Never hung poison on a fouler toad.
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Gloucester | Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. |
Anne | Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead! |
Gloucester |
I would they were, that I might die at once;
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Anne |
Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death,
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Gloucester | Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. |
Anne | I have already. |
Gloucester |
Tush, that was in thy rage:
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Anne | I would I knew thy heart. |
Gloucester | ’Tis figured in my tongue. |
Anne | I fear me both are false. |
Gloucester | Then never man was true. |
Anne | Well, well, put up your sword. |
Gloucester | Say, then, my peace is made. |
Anne | That shall you know hereafter. |
Gloucester | But shall I live in hope? |
Anne | All men, I hope, live so. |
Gloucester | Vouchsafe to wear this ring. |
Anne | To take is not to give. |
Gloucester |
Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger,
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Anne | What is it? |
Gloucester |
That it would please thee leave these sad designs
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Anne |
With all my heart; and much it joys me too,
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Gloucester | Bid me farewell. |
Anne |
’Tis more than you deserve;
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Gloucester | Sirs, take up the corse. |
Gentleman | Towards Chertsey, noble lord? |
Gloucester |
No, to White-Friars; there attend my coming. Exeunt all but Gloucester.
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Scene III
The palace.
Enter Queen Elizabeth, Lord Rivers, and Lord Grey. | |
Rivers |
Have patience, madam: there’s no doubt his majesty
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Grey |
In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse:
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Queen Elizabeth | If he were dead, what would betide of me? |
Rivers | No other harm but loss of such a lord. |
Queen Elizabeth | The loss of such a lord includes all harm. |
Grey |
The heavens have bless’d you with a goodly son,
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Queen Elizabeth |
Oh, he is young, and his minority
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Rivers | Is it concluded that he shall be protector? |
Queen Elizabeth |
It is determined, not concluded yet:
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Enter Buckingham and Derby. | |
Grey | Here come the lords of Buckingham and Derby. |
Buckingham | Good time of day unto your royal grace! |
Derby | God make your majesty joyful as you have been! |
Queen Elizabeth |
The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby,
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Derby |
I do beseech you, either not believe
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Rivers | Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of Derby? |
Derby |
But now the Duke of Buckingham and I
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Queen Elizabeth | What likelihood of his amendment, lords? |
Buckingham | Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully. |
Queen Elizabeth | God grant him health! Did you confer with him? |
Buckingham |
Madam, we did: he desires to make atonement
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Queen Elizabeth |
Would all were well! but that will never be:
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Enter Gloucester, Hastings, and Dorset. | |
Gloucester |
They do me wrong, and I will not endure it:
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Rivers | To whom in all this presence speaks your grace? |
Gloucester |
To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.
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Queen Elizabeth |
Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter.
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Gloucester |
I cannot tell: the world is grown so bad,
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Queen Elizabeth |
Come, come, we know your meaning, brother Gloucester;
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Gloucester |
Meantime, God grants that we have need of you:
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Queen Elizabeth |
By Him that raised me to this careful height
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Gloucester |
You may deny that you were not the cause
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Rivers | She may, my lord, for— |
Gloucester |
She may, Lord Rivers! why, who knows not so?
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Rivers | What, marry, may she? |
Gloucester |
What, marry, may she! marry with a king,
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Queen Elizabeth |
My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne
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Enter Queen Margaret, behind. | |
Small joy have I in being England’s queen. | |
Queen Margaret |
And lessen’d be that small, God, I beseech thee!
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Gloucester |
What! threat you me with telling of the king?
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Queen Margaret |
Out, devil! I remember them too well:
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Gloucester |
Ere you were queen, yea, or your husband king,
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Queen Margaret | Yea, and much better blood than his or thine. |
Gloucester |
In all which time you and your husband Grey
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Queen Margaret | A murderous villain, and so still thou art. |
Gloucester |
Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick;
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Queen Margaret | Which God revenge! |
Gloucester |
To fight on Edward’s party for the crown;
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Queen Margaret |
Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave the world,
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Rivers |
My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days
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Gloucester |
If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar:
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Queen Elizabeth |
As little joy, my lord, as you suppose
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Queen Margaret |
A little joy enjoys the queen thereof;
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Gloucester | Foul wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight? |
Queen Margaret |
But repetition of what thou hast marr’d;
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Gloucester | Wert thou not banished on pain of death? |
Queen Margaret |
I was; but I do find more pain in banishment
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Gloucester |
The curse my noble father laid on thee,
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Queen Elizabeth | So just is God, to right the innocent. |
Hastings |
O, ’twas the foulest deed to slay that babe,
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Rivers | Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. |
Dorset | No man but prophesied revenge for it. |
Buckingham | Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. |
Queen Margaret |
What! were you snarling all before I came,
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Gloucester | Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither’d hag! |
Queen Margaret |
And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me.
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Gloucester | Margaret. |
Queen Margaret | Richard! |
Gloucester | Ha! |
Queen Margaret | I call thee not. |
Gloucester |
I cry thee mercy then, for I had thought
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Queen Margaret |
Why, so I did; but look’d for no reply.
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Gloucester | ’Tis done by me, and ends in “Margaret.” |
Queen Elizabeth | Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself. |
Queen Margaret |
Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune!
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Hastings |
False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse,
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Queen Margaret | Foul shame upon you! you have all moved mine. |
Rivers | Were you well served, you would be taught your duty. |
Queen Margaret |
To serve me well, you all should do me duty,
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Dorset | Dispute not with her; she is lunatic. |
Queen Margaret |
Peace, master marquess, you are malapert:
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Gloucester | Good counsel, marry: learn it, learn it, marquess. |
Dorset | It toucheth you, my lord, as much as me. |
Gloucester |
Yea, and much more: but I was born so high,
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Queen Margaret |
And turns the sun to shade; alas! alas!
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Buckingham | Have done! for shame, if not for charity. |
Queen Margaret |
Urge neither charity nor shame to me:
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Buckingham | Have done, have done. |
Queen Margaret |
O princely Buckingham, I’ll kiss thy hand,
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Buckingham |
Nor no one here; for curses never pass
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Queen Margaret |
I’ll not believe but they ascend the sky,
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Gloucester | What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham? |
Buckingham | Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. |
Queen Margaret |
What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel?
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Hastings | My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses. |
Rivers | And so doth mine: I muse why she’s at liberty. |
Gloucester |
I cannot blame her: by God’s holy mother,
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Queen Elizabeth | I never did her any, to my knowledge. |
Gloucester |
But you have all the vantage of her wrong.
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Rivers |
A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion,
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Gloucester |
So do I ever: aside being well advised.
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Enter Catesby. | |
Catesby |
Madam, his majesty doth call for you;
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Queen Elizabeth | Catesby, we come. Lords, will you go with us? |
Rivers | Madam, we will attend your grace. Exeunt all but Gloucester. |
Gloucester |
I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl.
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Enter two Murderers. | |
But, soft! here come my executioners.
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First Murderer |
We are, my lord; and come to have the warrant,
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Gloucester |
Well thought upon; I have it here about me. Gives the warrant.
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First Murderer |
Tush!
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Gloucester |
Your eyes drop millstones, when fools’ eyes drop tears:
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First Murderer | We will, my noble lord. Exeunt. |
Scene IV
London. The Tower.
Enter Clarence and Brakenbury. | |
Brakenbury | Why looks your grace so heavily to-day? |
Clarence |
O, I have pass’d a miserable night,
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Brakenbury | What was your dream? I long to hear you tell it. |
Clarence |
Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower,
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Brakenbury |
Had you such leisure in the time of death
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Clarence |
Methought I had; and often did I strive
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Brakenbury | Awaked you not with this sore agony? |
Clarence |
O, no, my dream was lengthen’d after life;
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Brakenbury |
No marvel, my lord, though it affrighted you;
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Clarence |
O Brakenbury, I have done those things,
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Brakenbury |
I will, my lord: God give your grace good rest! Clarence sleeps.
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Enter the two Murderers. | |
First Murderer | Ho! who’s here? |
Brakenbury | In God’s name what are you, and how came you hither? |
First Murderer | I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. |
Brakenbury | Yea, are you so brief? |
Second Murderer | O sir, it is better to be brief than tedious. Shew him our commission; talk no more. Brakenbury reads it. |
Brakenbury |
I am, in this, commanded to deliver
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First Murderer | Do so, it is a point of wisdom: fare you well. Exit Brakenbury. |
Second Murderer | What, shall we stab him as he sleeps? |
First Murderer | No; then he will say ’twas done cowardly, when he wakes. |
Second Murderer | When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake till the judgment-day. |
First Murderer | Why, then he will say we stabbed him sleeping. |
Second Murderer | The urging of that word “judgment” hath bred a kind of remorse in me. |
First Murderer | What, art thou afraid? |
Second Murderer | Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be damned for killing him, from which no warrant can defend us. |
First Murderer | I thought thou hadst been resolute. |
Second Murderer | So I am, to let him live. |
First Murderer | Back to the Duke of Gloucester, tell him so. |
Second Murderer | I pray thee, stay a while: I hope my holy humour will change; ’twas wont to hold me but while one would tell twenty. |
First Murderer | How dost thou feel thyself now? |
Second Murderer | ’Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me. |
First Murderer | Remember our reward, when the deed is done. |
Second Murderer | ’Zounds, he dies: I had forgot the reward. |
First Murderer | Where is thy conscience now? |
Second Murderer | In the Duke of Gloucester’s purse. |
First Murderer | So when he opens his purse to give us our reward, thy conscience flies out. |
Second Murderer | Let it go; there’s few or none will entertain it. |
First Murderer | How if it come to thee again? |
Second Murderer | I’ll not meddle with it: it is a dangerous thing: it makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him; he cannot swear, but it checks him; he cannot lie with his neighbour’s wife, but it detects him: ’tis a blushing shamefast spirit that mutinies in a man’s bosom; it fills one full of obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold that I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it is turned out of all towns and cities for a dangerous thing; and every man that means to live well endeavours to trust to himself and to live without it. |
First Murderer | ’Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me not to kill the duke. |
Second Murderer | Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him not: he would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh. |
First Murderer | Tut, I am strong-framed, he cannot prevail with me, I warrant thee. |
Second Murderer | Spoke like a tall fellow that respects his reputation. Come, shall we to this gear? |
First Murderer | Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy sword, and then we will chop him in the malmsey-butt in the next room. |
Second Murderer | O excellent device! make a sop of him. |
First Murderer | Hark! he stirs: shall I strike? |
Second Murderer | No, first let’s reason with him. |
Clarence | Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine. |
Second murderer | You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. |
Clarence | In God’s name, what art thou? |
Second Murderer | A man, as you are. |
Clarence | But not, as I am, royal. |
Second Murderer | Nor you, as we are, loyal. |
Clarence | Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. |
Second Murderer | My voice is now the king’s, my looks mine own. |
Clarence |
How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak!
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Both | To, to, to— |
Clarence | To murder me? |
Both | Ay, ay. |
Clarence |
You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so,
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First Murderer | Offended us you have not, but the king. |
Clarence | I shall be reconciled to him again. |
Second Murderer | Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die. |
Clarence |
Are you call’d forth from out a world of men
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First Murderer | What we will do, we do upon command. |
Second Murderer | And he that hath commanded is the king. |
Clarence |
Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings
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Second Murderer |
And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee,
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First Murderer |
And, like a traitor to the name of God,
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Second Murderer | Whom thou wert sworn to cherish and defend. |
First Murderer |
How canst thou urge God’s dreadful law to us,
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Clarence |
Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed?
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First Murderer |
Who made thee, then, a bloody minister,
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Clarence | My brother’s love, the devil, and my rage. |
First Murderer |
Thy brother’s love, our duty, and thy fault,
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Clarence |
Oh, if you love my brother, hate not me;
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Second Murderer | You are deceived, your brother Gloucester hates you. |
Clarence |
O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear:
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Both | Ay, so we will. |
Clarence |
Tell him, when that our princely father York
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First Murderer | Ay, millstones; as he lesson’d us to weep. |
Clarence | O, do not slander him, for he is kind. |
First Murderer |
Right,
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Clarence |
It cannot be; for when I parted with him,
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Second Murderer |
Why, so he doth, now he delivers thee
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First Murderer | Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. |
Clarence |
Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul,
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Second Murderer | What shall we do? |
Clarence | Relent, and save your souls. |
First Murderer | Relent! ’tis cowardly and womanish. |
Clarence |
Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish.
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Second Murderer | Look behind you, my lord. |
First Murderer |
Take that, and that: if all this will not do, stabs him
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Second Murderer |
A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch’d!
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Re-enter First Murderer. | |
First Murderer |
How now! what mean’st thou, that thou help’st me not?
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Second Murderer |
I would he knew that I had saved his brother!
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First Murderer |
So do not I: go, coward as thou art.
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