If thou wilt sooth my sorrow, then I'll thank thee; Ay! now thou'rt kind indeed! these tears oblige me. Tressel. Alas, my lord, I fear more evils towards you! K. Hen. Why, let it come; I scarce shall feel it now; My present woes have beat me to the ground; Tressel. A word does that; it comes in Gloster's form. K. Hen. Frightful indeed! give me the worst that threatens. Tressel. After the murder of your son, stern Richard, As if unsated with the wounds he had given, With unwash'd hands went from his friends in haste; Enter LIEUTENANT, with an Order. Lieut. Forgive me, sir, what I'm compell'd' t' obey: An order for your close confinement. K. Hen. Whence comes it, good Lieutenant? Lieut. Sir, from the Duke of Gloster. K. Hen. Good night to all then! I obey it. And now, good friend, suppose me on my death-bed, Nay, keep thy tears, till thou hast seen me dead: To hear them tell the dismal tales Of times long past, ev'n now with woe remember'd, Before thou bidd'st good night, to quit their grief, Tell thou the lamentable fall of me, And send thy hearers weeping to their beds. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The Tower. Enter GLOSTER. Glost. Now is the winter of our discontent Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, But I, that am not made for sportive tricks, Have no delight to pass away my hours, But then 'tis fix'd on such a height; oh, I I'll climb betimes, without remorse or dread, ร SCENE III. A Chamber in the Tower. KING HENRY, sleeping on a Couch. Enter LIEUTENANT. Lieut. Asleep so soon! but sorrow minds no sea sons; The morning, noon, and night, with her's the same; K. Hen. Who's there! Lieutenant! is it you? Lieut. You shake, my lord, and look affrighted! K. Hen. Oh! I have had the fearfull'st dream! such sights, That, as I live, I would not pass another hour so dreadful, Enter GLOSTER. Glost. Good day, my lord; what, at your book so hard? I disturb you. K. Hen. You do indeed. Glost. Friend, leave us to ourselves; we must confer. K. Hen. What bloody scene has Roscius now to act? [Exit LIEUTENANT. Glost. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind: The thief does fear each bush an officer. K. Hen. Where thieves, without controlment, rob and kill, The traveller does fear each bush a thief: The poor bird, that has been already lim'd, Have now the fatal object in my eye, By whom my young one bled, was caught, and kill'd. Glost. Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete, That taught his son the office of a fowl! And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown'd: Thou shouldst have taught thy boy his prayers alone, And then he had not broke his neck with climbing. K. Hen. Ah! kill me with thy weapon, not thy words; My breast can better brook thy dagger's point, life? Than can my ears that piercing story; my But wherefore dost thou come? is't for Glost. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption. Thou hadst not liv'd to kill a son of mine: But thou wert born to massacre mankind. Glost. I'll hear no more-Die, prophet, in thy speech; For this, amongst the rest, I was ordain'd. [Stabs him. K. Hen. Oh! and for much more slaughter after this; Just Heav'n forgive my sins, and pardon thee! [Dies. Glost. What will the aspiring blood of Lancaster Sink in the ground?—I thought it would have mounted. See how my sword weeps for the poor king's death! Oh may such purple tears be always shed, |