Sc. I

ACT II K. EDW. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death,
And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave?
My brother slew no man: his fault was thought,
And yet his punishment was bitter death.
Who su'd to me for him? who, in my rage,
Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advis'd?
Who spake of brotherhood? who spake 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 rescu'd 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 own garments, and gave himself
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,

all

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Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself
For him, poor Soul. The proudest of you
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 your's for this!
Come, Hastings, pr'ythee help me to my closet.
O, poor Clarence! [Exeunt some with KING and QUEEN.
GLOU. This is the fruit of rashness. Mark'd you not
How that the guilty kindred of the Queen

Look'd 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.

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[exeunt.

ACT II

Sc. II

SCENE II. The Palace.

Enter the DUCHESS OF YORK, with the two Children of

CLARENCE.

BOY. Tell us, good Grandam, is our father dead?

DUCH. No, Boy.

Boy. Why do you weep so oft, 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 much;

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.

ΙΟ

DUCH. Peace, Children, peace! the King doth love you

well:

Incapable and shallow Innocents,

You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death. Boy. Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester

Told me, the King, provok'd to 't by the Queen,

Devis'd impeachments to imprison him :

And, when my uncle told me so, he wept,

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And hugg'd me in his arm, and kindly1 kiss'd my cheek;
Bade me rely on him as on my father,

And he would love me dearly as his child.

DUCH. O, that Deceit should steal such gentle shapes,

And with a virtuous vizard hide foul guile!

He is my son; yea, and therein my shame;

Boy. I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this?

Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit.
Boy. Think you my uncle did dissemble, Grandam?
DUCH. Ay, Boy.

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1 kinsmanlike.

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ACT II
Sc. II

Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, 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 now the root is wither'd?
Why wither not the leaves, the sap being gone?
If you will live, lament; if die, be brief,
That our swift-winged Souls may catch the King's;
Or, like obedient subjects, follow him

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 liv'd by looking on his images:

But now two mirrors of his princely semblance
Are crack'd in pieces by malignant Death,
And I for comfort have but one false glass,
Which 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 snatch'd my husband from mine

arms,

And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble limbs,
Clarence and Edward. O, what cause have I

(Thine being but a moiety of my grief)

To over-go thy plaints, and drown thy cries!

Boy. Good Aunt, you wept not for our father's death :
How can we aid you with our kindred tears?
GIRL. Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd;
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 govern'd by the watery Moon,

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60

Sc. II

May send forth plenteous tears to drown the World! 70 ACT II O for my husband, for my dear Lord Edward! CHILDREN. O 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. CHILDREN. What stay had we but Clarence? and he's

gone.

DUCH. What stays had I but they? and they are gone.
Q. ELIZ. Was never widow had so dear a loss!
CHILDREN. Were never orphans had so dear a loss!
DUCH. Was never mother had so dear a loss!

Alas, I am the mother of these moans!
Their woes are parcell'd,1 mine are general.
She for an Edward weeps, and so do I;

I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she:
These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I;

I for an Edward weep, so do not they :

Alas, you Three, on me, threefold distress'd,
Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's Nurse,
And I will pamper it with lamentations.
DOR. Comfort, dear Mother: God is much displeas'd
That you take with unthankfulness His doing:
In common worldly things 'tis call'd ungrateful
With dull unwillingness to repay a debt
Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent;
Much more to be thus opposite with Heaven,
For it requires the royal debt it lent you.

RIV. Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother,

Of the young Prince your son: send straight for
him;

Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives :
Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's Grave,
And plant your joys in living Edward's Throne.

Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS
and RATCLIFF.

GLOU. Sister, have comfort: all of us have cause
To wail the dimming of our shining Star;
But none can cure their harms by wailing them.
Madam, my Mother, I do cry you mercy;

1 individual, special and peculiar. VI: F

2 exacts.

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ACT II

Sc. II

I did not see your Grace: humbly on my knee
I crave your blessing.

DUCH. God bless thee; and put meekness in thy breast,

Love, charity, obedience, and true duty!

GLOU. Amen; [aside.] and make me die a good old man!
That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing:

I marvel why her Grace did leave it out.

BUCK. You cloudy Princes and heart-sorrowing Peers,
That bear this mutual heavy load of moan,

Now cheer each other in each other's love.
Though we have spent our harvest of this King,
We are to reap the harvest of his son.
The broken rancour of your high-swoln hearts,
But lately splinter'd,1 knit, and join'd together,
Must gently be preserv'd, cherish'd, and kept:
Me seemeth good, that, with some little train,
Forthwith from Ludlow the young Prince be fet2
Hither to London, to be crown'd our King.

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RIV. Why with some little train, my Lord of Buckingham?

BUCK. Marry, my Lord, lest, by a multitude,

The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out;
Which would be so much the more dangerous

By how much the Estate is green, and yet ungovern'd
Where every horse bears his commanding rein,
And may direct his course as please himself,
As well the fear of harm as harm apparent,
In my opinion, ought to be prevented.
GLOU. I hope the King made peace with all of us;
And the compact is firm and true in me.
RIV. And so in me; and so, I think, in all:
Yet, since it is but green, it should be put

To no apparent likelihood of breach,

Which haply by much company might be urg'd:
Therefore I say with noble Buckingham,

That it is meet so few should fetch the Prince.
HAST. And so say I.

GLOU. Then be it so; and go we to determine

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Who they shall be that straight shall post to Lud