N

The COURT.

Enter Richard Duke of Gloucefter, folus.

OW is the Winter of our difcontent
Made glorious fummer by this Sun of
York:

And all the clouds that lowr'd upon our

houfe,

In the deep bofom of the ocean bury'd, Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruifed arms hung up for monuments; Our ftern alarums chang'd to merry meetings; Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

Grim

Grim-vifag'd War hath fmooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now inftead of mounting barbed steeds
To fright the fouls of fearful adverfaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber,
To the lafcivious pleafing of a lute.

But I, that am not fhap'd for fportive tricks,
Nor made to court an am'rous looking-glafs,
I, that am rudely ftampt, and want love's majefty,
To ftrut before a wanton, ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by diffembling nature,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, fent before my time
Into this breathing world; fcarce half made up,
And that fo lamely and unfafhionably,
That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them:
Why I, (in this weak piping time of peace)
Have no delight to pafs away the time
Unlefs to fee my fhadow in the fun,
And defcant on mine own deformity
And therefore, fince I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain thefe fair well-fpoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain,
And hate the idle pleafures of thefe days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophefies, libels, and dreams,
To fet my brother Clarence and the
he King
In deadly hate, the one against the other:
And if King Edward be as true and juft,
As I am fubtle, falfe and treacherous,

This day fhould- Clarence clofely be mew'd up.

Dive thoughts down to my foul, here Clarence comes.

Enter Clarence guarded, and Brakenbury.

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

Clar. His Majefty,

Tend'ring my perfon's fafety, hath appointed
This conduct to convey me to the Tower..

Glo. Upon what cause ?

Clar. Becaufe my name is George.

Glo. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours:
He should for that commit your godfathers.
Belike, his Majefty hath fome intent,

That you fhould be new chriftned in the Tower.
But what's the matter, Clarence, may I know?
Clar. Yea, Richard, when I know; for I proteft
As yet I do not, but as I can learn,

He hearkens after prophefies and dreams,
Androm the cross-row plucks the letter G
And ays a wizard told him, that by G
His fie difinherited fhould be.

And for my name of George begins with G,
It follows in his thought that I am he.
Thefe, as I learn, and fuch like toys as thefe,
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 Gray his wife, Clarence, 'tis the,
That tempts him to this harsh extremity.
Was it not fhe, and that good man of worship,
Anthony Woodvil her brother there,

That made him fend lord Haftings to the Tower?
From whence this day he is delivered.

We are not fafe; Clarence, we are not fafe.

Clar. By heav'n, I think there is no man fecure
But the Queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds
That trudge between the King and miftrefs Shore.
Heard you not what an humble fuppliant
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'erworn widow, and her felf,

Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen,"
Are mighty goffips in our monarchy.

Brak. I beg your graces both to pardon me :
His Majefty hath ftraitly giv'n in charge,
That no man fhall have private conference,
Of what degree foever, with your brother.

Glo. Ev'n fo, an't please your worship, Brakenbury! You may partake of any thing we fay :

We fpeak no treafon, manwe fay the King
Is wife and virtuous, and his noble Queen
Well ftrook in years, fair, and not jealous.
We fay, that Shore's wife hath
pretty foot,
A cherry lip, a paffing pleafing tongue:

That the Queen's kindred are made gentle-folks
How fay you, Sir? can you deny all this?

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

Glo. What, fellow ? nought to do with mistress
Shore ?

I tell you Sir, he that doth naught with her,
Excepting one, were beft to do it fecretly.
Brak. What one, my lord?

Glo. Her husband, knave-would'st thou betray me?

Brak. I do befeech your grace to pardon me, And to forbear your conf'rence with the Duke. Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.

Glo. We are the Queen's abjects, and must obey. Brother farewel, I will unto the King,

And whatfoe'er you will employ me in,
(Were it to call King Edward's widow sister)
I will perform it to infranchise you.

Mean time, this deep difgrace of brotherhood
Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
Glo. Well, your imprisonment fhall not be long,
I will deliver you, or elfe lye for you:

Mean time have patience.

Clar. I must perforce; farewel.

[Exe. Brak. Clar.

Gle.