And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave? Yet none of you would once plead for his life. On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this. Ah! poor Clarence! [Exeunt KING, QUEEN, HAST., RIV., DOR., and GREY. GLO. 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? God will revenge it. Come, lords; will you go, [Exeunt. SCENE II.-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. DAUGH. Why do you weep so oft? and beat your breast; And cry-"O Clarence, my unhappy son!" SON. Why do you look on us, and shake your head, And call us orphans, wretches, castaways, If that our noble father were 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. SON. Then you conclude, my grandam, he is dead. The king my uncle is to blame for this: God will revenge it; whom I will importune With earnest prayers all to that effect. DAUGH. And so will I. DUCH. Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well: Incapable and shallow innocents, You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death. SON. Grandam, we can: for my good uncle Gloster Devis'd impeachments to imprison him: DUCH. Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, SON. Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam? SON. I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this? Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, distractedly; RIVERS and DORSET following her. Q. ELIZ. Ah! 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? That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; To his new kingdom of ne'er-changing night. DUCH. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow, I have bewept a worthy husband's death, But now, two mirrors of his princely semblance And hast the comfort of thy children left; But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms, (Thine being but a moiety of my moan) To over-go thy woes, and drown thy cries! SON. Ah, aunt! you wept not for our father's death; How can we aid you with our kindred tears? DAUGH. 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: 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. CHIL. 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. CHIL. Were never orphans had so dear a loss. DUCH. Was never mother had so dear a loss. Alas! I am the mother of these griefs; Their woes are parcell'd, 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 In common worldly things 't is called ungrateful, RIV. Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, Enter GLOSTER, BUCKINGHAM, STANLEY, HASTINGS, RATCLIFF, and others. GLO. Sister, have comfort: all of us have cause To wail the dimming of our shining star; But none can help our harms by wailing them. Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy, I did not see your grace:—Humbly on my knee DUCH. God bless thee, and put meekness in thy breast, t Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! GLO. Amen; and make me die a good old man! That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing; I marvel that her grace did leave it out. [Aside. BUCK. You cloudy princes, and heart-sorrowing peers, That bear this heavy mutual load of moan, RIV. Why with some little train, my lord of Buckingham? The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out; GLO. I hope the king made peace with all of us; RIV. And so in me; and so, I think, in all: Which, haply, by much company might be urg'd: That it is meet so few should fetch the prince. HAST. And so say I. GLO. Then be it so; and go we to determine To give your censures in this weighty business? [Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOSTER. BUCK. My lord, whoever journeys to the prince, For God's sake, let not us two stay at home: |