You do him injury to scorn his corse.

Riv. Who knows not he is dead! Who knows

he is?

Q. Eliz. All-seeing heaven, what a world is this! Buck. Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest? Dor. Ay, my good lord; and no one in this presence

But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks.

K. Edw. Is Clarence dead? The order was reversed.

Glo. But he, poor soul, by your first order died,
And that a wingéd Mercury did bear;
Some tardy cripple bore the countermand,
That came too lag to see him buried.

God grant that some, less noble and less loyal,
Nearer in bloody thoughts, but not in blood,
Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did,
And yet go current from suspicion !

Enter STANLEY.

Stan. A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! K. Edw. I pray thee, peace: my soul is full of

sorrow.

Stan. I will not rise, unless your highness grant. K. Edw. Then speak at once what is it thou

demand'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 killed no man, his fault was thought, And yet his punishment was bitter death.

Who sued to me for him? who, in my rage,
Kneeled at my feet, and bade me be advised?
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 by Tewksbury,
When Oxford had me down, he rescued me,
And said, 'Dear brother, live, and be a king'ʼn
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 plucked, 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 defaced
The precious image of our dear Redeemer,
You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon ;
And I, unjustly too, must grant it you :-
But for my brother not a man would speak,-
Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself
For him, poor soul. The proudest of
you all
Have been beholding to him in his life;
Yet none of you would once plead for his life.-
O God, I fear thy justice will take hold
On me and you, and mine and yours for this!
Come, Hastings, help me to my closet.
Poor Clarence !

Ah!

[Exeunt King and Queen, HASTINGS, RIVERS, DORSET, and GREY.

Glo. This is the fruit of rashness !-Marked you

not

How that the guilty kindred of the queen

Looked pale when they did hear of Clarence' death }
O, they did urge it still unto the king!
God will revenge it.-But come, let us in,
To comfort Edward with our company.
Buck. We wait upon your grace.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Another Room in the Palace. Enter the Duchess of YORK, with a Son and Daughter of CLARENCE.

Boy. Tell me, good grandam, is our father dead } Duch. No, boy.

Boy. Why do you wring your hands, and beat your breast,

And cry O Clarence, my unhappy son!'

Girl. Why do you look on us, and shake your head,

And call us wretches, orphans, castaways,

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.

Boy. Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead.

The king my uncle is to blame for this:
God will revenge it; whom I will importune
With daily prayers all to that effect.

Girl. And so will I.

Duch. Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well:

Incapable and shallow innocents,

V

Boy. Grandam, we can; for my good uncle

Gloster

Told me, the king, provoked to 't by the queen,
Devised impeachments to imprison him :
And when my uncle told me so, he wept,
And pitied me, and kindly kissed my cheek;
Bade me rely on him as on my father,

And he would love me dearly as his child.
Duch. Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle
shapes,

And with a virtuous vizor hide foul guile !
He is my son; yea, and therein my shame;
Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit.

Son. Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam?

Duch. Ay, boy.

Son. I cannot think it.-Hark! what noise is

this?

Enter Queen ELIZABEEH, with her hair about her ears; RIVERS and DORSET after her.

Q. Eliz. O, who shall hinder me to wail and weep, To chide my fortune, and torment myself? I'll join with black despair against my soul, And to myself become an enemy.

Duch. What means this scene of rude impatience?

Q. Eliz. To make an act of tragic violence : Edward, my lord, your son, our king, is dead. Why grow the branches when the root is gone? Why wither not the leaves that want their sap? will live, lament; if die, be brief, That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; Or, like obedient subjects, follow him

If you

To his new kingdom of perpetual rest.

Duch. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow As I had title in thy noble husband!

I have bewept a worthy husband's death,
And lived by looking on his images :

But now two mirrors of his princely semblance
Are cracked in pieces by malignant death,
And I for comfort have but one false glass,
That grieves me when I see my shame in him.
Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother,
And hast the comfort of thy children left thee:
But death hath snatched my husband from mine arms,
And plucked two crutches from my feeble hands,-
Edward and Clarence. O, what cause have I,—
Thine being but a moiety of my grief,–

To overgo thy plaints and drown thy cries!

Son. Good aunt, you wept not for our father's death!

How can we aid you with our kindred tears? Daughter. Our fatherless distress we left unmoaned;

Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept !

Q. Eliz. Give me no help in lamentation; I am not barren to bring forth complaints: All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, That I, being governed by the watery moon, May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! Ah for my husband, for my dear lord Edward!

Chil. Ah for our father, for our dear lord Clarence!

Duch. Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence!

Q. Eliz. What stay had I but Edward? and he's gone.