Imatges de pÓgina
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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,
Since I have made my friends at peace on earth.
Rivers, and Hastings, take each other's hand;
Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love.

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, Confound your hidden falsehood, and award Either of you to be the other's end.

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.

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2 Dissemble not your hatred,] i. e. do not gloss it over.

Q. Eliz. There, Hastings;-I will never more re


Our former hatred, so thrive I, and mine!

K. Edw. Dorset, embrace him,—


Hastings, love lord

Dor. This interchange of love, I here protest,

Upon my part shall be inviolable.

Hast. And so swear I.

[Embraces DORSET.

K. Edw. Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this


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


Doth cherish you, and yours, God punish me
With hate in those where I expect most love!
When I have most need to employ a friend,
And most assured that he is a friend,
Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile,
Be he unto me! this do I beg of heaven,
When I am cold in love, to you, or yours.

[Embracing RIVERS, &c. K. Edw. A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham,

Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart,

There wanteth now our brother Gloster here,

To make the blessed period of this peace.

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: Brother, we have done deeds of charity;

Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate,

Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.

Glo. A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege.

Among this princely heap, if any here,

By false intelligence, or wrong surmise,
Hold me a foe;

If I unwittingly, or in my rage,

Have ought 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.
First, madam, I entreat true peace of you,
Which I will purchase with my duteous service; —
Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham,

If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us; -
Of you, lord Rivers, and lord Grey, of you, -
That all without desert have frown'd on me;

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Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all.
I do not know that Englishman alive,
With whom my soul is any jot at odds,
More than the infant that is born to-night;
I thank my God for my humility.

Q. Eliz. A holy-day shall this be kept hereafter
I would to God, all strifes were well compounded.
My sovereign lord, I do beseech your highness
To take our brother Clarence to your grace.

Glo. Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this,
To be so flouted in this royal presence?

Who knows not, that the gentle duke is dead?

You do him injury, to scorn his corse.


[They all start.

K. Edw. 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 man in the presence, 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,
That came too lag to see him buried: —
God grant, that some, less noble, and less loyal,
Nearer in bloody thoughts, and not in blood, †
Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did,
And yet go current from suspicion!


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 forfeit3, 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 rescued 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,


"but not in blood," - MALONE.

3 The forfeit,] He means the remission of the forfeit.

4 Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death,] This lamentation is very tender and pathetick. The recollection of the good qualities of the dead is very natural, and no less naturally does the king endeavour to communicate the crime to others.

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:

But for my brother, not a man would speak,
Nor I (ungracious) speak unto myself

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For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all
Have been beholden to him in his life;
Yet none of would once plead for his life. -
O God! I fear, thy justice will take hold



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On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this.—
Come, Hastings, help me to my closet.
Poor Clarence!

[Exeunt King, Queen, HASTINGS, RIVERS,


Glo. This is the fruit of rashness! Mark'd

How that the guilty kindred of the queen

you not,

Look'd pale, when they did hear of Clarence' death?

O! they did urge it still unto the king:

God will revenge it. Come, lords; will you go,

To comfort Edward with our company ?

Buck. We wait upon your grace.


The same.


Enter the Duchess of YORK, with a Son and Daughter of CLARENCE.

Son. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead?
Duch. No, boy.

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