As

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 proteft,
yet
I do not: But, as I can learn,
He hearkens after prophecies, and dreams ;
And from the cross-row plucks the letter G,
And fays—a wizard told him, that by G
His iffue difinherited fhould be ;

And, for my name of George begins with G,
It follows in his thought, that I am he:
These, as I learn, and fuch 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 fends you to the Tower;

My lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis the,

That tempers him to this extremity.

Was it not she, and that good man of worship,
Antony Woodeville, her brother there,

That made him fend lord Haftings to the Tower;
From whence this present day he is deliver'd?
We are not fafe, Clarence, we are not safe.

Clar. By heaven, I think, there is no man fecure,
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 Haftings 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 goffips in this monarchy.

B 2

Brak.

Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon me ;.
His majetty hath ftraitly given in charge,
That no man shall have private conference,
Of what degree foever, with his brother.

Glo. Even fo? an pleafe your worship, Brakenbury,
You may partake of any thing we fay :

We speak no treason, man ;-We fay, the king
Is wife, and virtuous; and his noble queen
Well ftruck in years; fair, and not jealous
We fay, that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
A cherry lip,

A bonny eye, a paffing pleafing tongue;

"And the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks: How fay you, fir? can you deny all this?

Brak. With this, my lord, myfelf have nought to do.

Glo. Naught to do with mistress Shore? I tell thee,

fellow,

He that doth naught with her excepting one,

Were beft to do it fecretly, alone.

Brak. What one, my lord?

Glo. Her husband, knave:-Would'ft 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 whatfoe'er you will employ me in,—

Were it, to call king Edward's widow-fister,-
I will perform it, to enfranchise you.
Mean time, this deep difgrace 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;

I will deliver you, or else lie for you :

Mean time, 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 foul to heaven,

If heaven will take the present at our hands,
But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings?

Enter HASTINGS.

Haft. Good time of day unto my gracious lord!
Glo. As much unto my good lord chamberlain !
Well are you welcome to this open air.

How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?
Haft. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must:
But I fhall live, my ford, to give them thanks,
That were the cause of my imprisonment.

Glo. No doubt, no doubt; and fo fhall Clarence too; For they, that were your enemies, are his,

And have prevail'd as much on him, as you.
Haft. More pity, that the eagle should be mew'd,
While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.

Glo. What news abroad?

Haft. No news so bad abroad, as this at home;The king is fickly, weak, and melancholy,

And his phyficians fear him mightily.

Glo. Now, by faint Paul, this news is bad indeed.

O, he hath kept an evil diet long,

And over-much confum'd his royal person;

'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.

What, is he in his bed?

Haft.

He is.

B 3

Glo

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 posthorse 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 readieft way to make the wench amends,
Is to become her husband, and her father:
The which will I; not all fo much for love,
As for another fecret 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 fame. Another Street.

Enter the corpfe of King HENRY the Sixth, borne in an open coffin, Gentlemen bearing halberds, to guard it; and Lady ANNE as mourner.

Anne. Set down, fet down your honourable load,-
If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,—
Whilft I a while obfequioufly lament
The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.-
Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!

Pale

Pale afhes 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 flaughter'd son,
Stabb'd by the felf-fame hand that made these wounds!
Lo, in these windows, that let forth thy life,

I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes :-
O, curfed be the hand, that made these holes!
Curfed the heart, that had the heart to do it!
Curfed 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
More miferable by the death of him,

Than I am made by my young lord, and thee!-
Come, now, toward Chertsey with your holy load,
Taken from Paul's to be interred there;

And, ftill as you are weary of the weight,
Reft you, whiles I lament king Henry's corse.

[The bearers take up the corpfe, and advance.

Enter GLOSTER.

Glo. Stay you, that bear the corfe, and fet it down. Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend, To stop devoted charitable deeds?