2 Murd. A bloody deed, and desperately despatch'd! How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands Of this most grievous guilty murder done! Re-enter first Murderer. Murd. How now? what mean'st thou, that thou By heaven, the duke shall know how slack you have been. [Exit. 1 Murd. 'So do not I; go, coward, as thou art.- [Exit. ACT II.....SCENE I. The same. A Room in the Palace. Enter King EDWARD, (led in sick) Queen ELIZABETH, DORSET, RIVERS, HASTINGS, BUCKINGHAM, GREY, and Others. K. Edw. Why, so;-now have I done a good day's work; You peers, continue this united league: I every day expect an embassage From my Redeemer to redeem me hence; And more in peace my soul shall part to heaven, 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, 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 son 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, I here protest, Upon my part, shall be inviolable. Hast. And so swear I. [Embraces DoR. 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 yours, God punish me [Embracing Riv. &ɛ. K. Edw. A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham, Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. There wanteth now our brother Gloster here, Buck. And, in good time, here comes the noble duke. Glo. Good-morrow to my sovereign king, and queen; And, princely peers, a happy time of day! K. Edw. Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate, Glo. A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege.- By false intelligence, or wrong surmise, If I unwittingly, or in my rage, Have aught committed that is hardly borne By any in this presence, I desire To reconcile me to his friendly peace: 'Tis death to me, to be at enmity; I hate it, and desire all good men's love.-- If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us ;- Q. Eliz. A holy-day shall this be kept hereafter:- Glo. Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this, You do him injury, to scorn his corse. :- [They all start. K. Edw. Who knows not, he is dead! who knows he is? 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 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. Edw. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death, And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave? My brother kill'd no man, his fault was thought, And yet his punishment was bitter death. Who sued to me for him? who, in my wrath, 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 soul did forsake The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? Who told me, in the field at Tewksbury, When Oxford had me down, he rescu'd 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-vassals, 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: [Exeunt King, Queen, HAST. RIV. DOR. 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? God will revenge it. Come, lords; will you go, Buck. We wait upon your grace. SCENE II. The same. [Exeunt. Enter the Duchess of York, with a Son and Daughter of Clarence. Son. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead? Daugh. Why do you weep so oft? and beat your breast; And cry- 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 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. God will revenge it; whom I will impórtune |