And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds,
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,-
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber,
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute."

But I,—that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty,
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable,
That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them ;-
Why I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time;
Unless to spy* my shadow in the sun,
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,--
I am determined to prove a villain,
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence and the king,
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And, if king Edward be as true and just,
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd
About a prophecy, which says that G
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul! here Clarence

comes.

up,

Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY.

Brother, good day: what means this armed guard,
That waits upon your grace?

CLAR.
His majesty,
Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed
This conduct to convey me to the Tower.
GLO. Upon what cause?
CLAR.

Because my name is George.
GLO. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours;
He should for that commit your godfathers:-
O, belike his majesty hath some intent,
That you shall be new-christen'd in the Tower.
But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know?
CLAR. Yea, Richard, when I know; for, I
protest,

As yet I do not: but, as I can learn,
He hearkens after prophecies and dreams;
And from the cross-row plucks the letter G,

(*) First folio, see. (+) First folio, should. (1) First folio, but.

a Of a lute.] In the quartos, lute is misprinted lore.

b That tempers him to this extremity.] So the first quarto, 1597. The folio 1623 reads:

"That tempts him to this harsh extremity."

And says a wizard told him that by G
His issue disinherited should be;
And for my name of George begins with G,
It follows in his thought that I am he:
These, as I learn, and such like toys as these,
Have mov'd his highness to commit me now.

GLO. Why this it is, when men are rul'd by

women:

'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower;
My lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she,
That tempers him to this extremity."
Was it not she, and that good man of worship,
Antony Woodville, her brother there,
That made him send lord Hastings to the Tower,
From whence this present day he is delivered?
We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe.

CLAR. By heaven, I think there is no man

secure,

But the queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds

That trudge betwixt the king and mistress Shore.
Heard you not, what an humble suppliant
Lord Hastings was to her for his delivery?
GLO. Humbly complaining to her deity
Got
my lord chamberlain his liberty.
I'll tell you what,-I think it is our way,
If we will keep in favour with the king,
To be her men, and wear her livery:
The jealous o'er-worn widow and herself,
Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen,
Are mighty gossips in thist monarchy.

BRAK. I beseech your graces both to pardon

BRAK. What one, my lord?

GLO. Her husband, knave:-wouldst thou betray me?

BRAK. I beseech your grace to pardon me; and, withal,

Forbear

your conference with the noble duke. CLAR. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.

GLO. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey.

Brother, farewell; I will unto the king;
And whatsoe'er you will employ me in,—
Were it to call king Edward's widow, sister—
I will perform it to enfranchise you.
Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood,
Touches me deeper than you can imagine.

CLAR. I know it pleaseth neither of us well. GLO. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;

a

I will deliver you, or + lie for you : a
Meantime, have patience.

CLAR. I must perforce: farewell. [Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard. GLO. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return!

Simple, plain Clarence, I do love thee so,
That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven,
If heaven will take the present at our hands.-
But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings!

GLO. Go you before, and I will follow you.
[Exit HASTINGS.
He cannot live, I hope; and must not die
Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven.
I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments;
And if I fail not in my deep intent,

Clarence hath not another day to live:
Which done, God take king Edward to his mercy,
And leave the world for me to bustle in!
For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter:
What though I kill'd her husband and her father;
The readiest way to make the wench amends,
Is to become her husband and her father:
The which will I; not all so much for love
As for another secret close intent,
By marrying her, which I must reach unto.
But yet I run before my horse to market:
Clarence still breathes, Edward still lives and
reigns;

When they are gone, then must I count my gains.
Exit.

SCENE II.-The same. Another Street.

Enter the corpse of KING HENRY the SIXTH, borne

upon a hearse, Gentlemen bearing halberds, to guard it; and LADY ANNE as mourner.

ANNE. Set down, set down your honourable load,

If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,---
Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament
The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.-
Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!
Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!
Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost,
To hear the lamentations of
poor Anne,
Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son,
Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these
wounds!+

Lo, in those windows, that let forth thy life,
pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes :—

I

Curs'd be the hand, that made these fatal holes!
Curs'd be the heart, that had the heart to do it!"
[Cursed the blood, that let this blood from hence!]
More direful hap betide that hated wretch,
That makes us wretched by the death of thee,
Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,
Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!
If ever he have child, abortive be it,
Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,
Whose ugly and unnatural aspéct

May fright the hopeful mother at the view;
[And that be heir to his unhappiness!"]
If ever he have wife, let her be made

command:

Advance thy halberd higher than my breast,
Or by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot,
And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.
[Bearers set down the hearse.
ANNE. What, do you tremble? are you all
afraid?

Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortal,
And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.—
Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!
Thou hadst but power over his mortal body,
His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone.
GLO. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.
ANNE. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and
trouble us not;

For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,

Curs'd be the hand, that made these fatal holes! Curs'd be the heart, that had the heart to do it!] The folio gives these lines as follows:

"O cursed be the hand that made these holes : Cursed the Heart, that had the heart to do it.' b Cursed the blood, &c.] A line not in the quartos.

Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,
Of these supposed evils, to give me leave,
By circumstance, but to acquit myself.

ANNE. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, For these known evils, but to give me leave, By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self.

GLO. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have

Some patient leisure to excuse myself.
ANNE. Fouler than heart can think thee,thou
caust make

No excuse current, but to hang thyself.
GLO. By such despair, I should accuse myself.
ANNE. And, by despairing, shouldst|| thou stand

excus'd