Take heed, for he holds Vengeance in his Hand
To hurl upon their Heads that break his Law.

2 Vil. And that fame Vengeance doth he hurl on thee For falfe forfwearing, and for Murther too: Thou didst receive the Sacrament, to fight

In quarrel of the House of Lancaster.

i Vil. And like a Traitor to the name of God, Didst break that Vow, and with thy treacherous blade, Unrip'dft the Bowels of thy Soveraign's Son.

2 Fil. Whom thou waft fworn to cherish and defend:
I Vil. How canft thou urge God's dreadful Law to us,
When thou haft broke it in fuch high degree?
Clar. Alas! for whose fake did I that ill deed?
For Edward, for my Brother, for his fake.
He fends you not to murther me for this:
For in that fin he is as deep as I.

If God will be avenged for the deed,
O know you yet, he doth it publickly,
Take not the quarrel from his powerful Arm:
He needs no indirect, or lawless course,
To cut off thofe that have offended him.

I Vil. Who made thee then a bloody Minifter,
When gallant fpringing brave Plantagenet,
That Princely Novice, was ftruck dead by thee?
Clar. My Brother's Love, the Devil, and my Rage.
1 Vil. Thy Brother's Love, our Duty, and thy Faults,
Provoke us hither now, to flaughter thee.

Clar. If you do love my Brother, hate not me:

I am his Brother, and I love him well.

If

you are hir'd for meed, go back again,

And I will fend you to my Brother Glo'fter:
Who fhall reward you better for my Life,
Than Edward will for tidings of my Death.
2 Vil. You are deceiv'd,

Your Brother Glo'fter hates you.

Clar. Oh no, he loves me, and he holds me dear:

Go you to him from me.

1 Vil. Ay, fo we will.

Clar. Tell him, when that our princely Father Tork, Bleft his three Sons with his victorious Arm,

He

He little thought of this divided Friendship:
Bid Glo'fter think on this, and he will weep.
1 Vil. Ay, Milftones; as he leffon'd us to weep.
Clar. O do not flander him, for he is kind.
1 Vil. Right, as Snow in Harvest:
Come, you deceive your felf,

Tis he that fends us to deftroy you here.

Clar. It cannot be, for he bewept my Fortune. And hugg'd me in his Arms, and fwore with fobs, That he would labour my Delivery.

I Vil. Why fo he doth, when he delivers you From this Earth's thraldom, to the joys of Heav'n.

2 Vil. Make peace with God, for you must die, my Lord. Clar. Have you that holy feeling in your Souls, To counfel me to make my peace with God, And are you yet to your own Souls fo blind, That you will War with God, by murd'ring me? O Sirs, confider, they that fet you on To do this deed, will hate you for the deed, 2 Vil. What fhall we do?

Clar. Relent, and fave your Souls:
Which of you, if you were a Prince's Son,
Being pent from Liberty, as I am now,

If two fuch Murtherers as your felves came to you,
Would not intreat for Life, as you would beg
Were you in my distress.

1 Vil. Relent? no; 'tis cowardly and womanish.
Clar, Not to relent, is beaftly, favage, devilish.
My Friend, I fpy fome pity in thy looks:
O, if thine Eye be not a Flatterer,

Come thou on my fide, and intreat for me,
A begging Prince what Beggar pities not?
2 Vil. Look behind you, my Lord.

1 Vil. Take that, and that; if all this will not do,

I'll drown you in the Malmfey-Butt within.

[Stabs him. [Exit.

2 Vil. A bloody deed, and desperately dispatcht: How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my Hands Of this moft grievous Murther.

Enter

Enter firft Villain.

1 Vil. How now? what mean'ft thou that thou help'st me not? By Heav'n, the Duke shall know how flack you

have been.

2 Vil. I would he knew, that I had fav'd his Brother: Take thou the Fee, and tell him what I fay, For I repent me that the Duke is flain,

1 Vil. So do not I; go Coward as thou art. Well, I'll go hide the Body in fome hole, 'Till that the Duke give order for his Burial: And when I have my Meed, I will away; For this will out, and then I must not stay.

A CT II.

SCENE I.

[Exit.

[Exit.

Flourish. Enter King Edward fick, the Queen, Dorfet, Rivers, Haftings, Catesby, Buckingham, and Woodvil

K, Edw.

You Peers continue this united League: WHY fo; now have I done a good day's work.

I every Day expect an Embassage

From my Redeemer, to redeem me hence.

And more in peace my Soul fhall part to Heav'n,
Since I have make my Friends at peace on Earth;
Haftings and Rivers, take each others hand,
Diffemble not your Hatred, fwear your Love.

Riv. By Heav'n, my Soul is purg'd from bearing Hate,
And with my Hand I feal my true Heart's Love.
Haft. So thrive I, as I truely fwear the like.

K. Edw. Take heed you dally not before the King,
Left he, that is the fupream King of Kings,
Confound your hidden falfhood, and award
Either of you to be the others end.

Haft. So profper I, as I fwear perfe& Love.

Riv. And I, as I love Haftings with my Heart.
K. Edw. Madam, your felf is not exempt from this;

Nor you Son Dorset, Buckingham nor you;
You have been factious one against the other.

Wife,

Wife, love Lord Haftings, let him kiss your Hand,
And what you do, do it unfeignedly.

Queen. There Haftings, I will never more remember Our former hatred, fo thrive I, and mine.

K. Edw. Dorfet, embrace him:

Haftings, love Lord Marquefs.

Dorf. This interchange of Love, I here proteft Upon my part, fhall be inviolable.

Haft. And fo fwear I.

K. Edw. Now Princely Buckingham, feal thou this League With thy embracements to my Wife's Allies,

And make me happy in your unity.

Buck. When ever Buckingham doth turn his hate Upon your Grace, but with all duteous Love, [To the Queen. Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me With hate in thofe where I expect most love: When I have moft need to imploy a Friend, And most affured that he is a Friend, Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile, But 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 pleafing Cordial, Princely Buckingham,

Is this thy Vow unto my fickly Heart.
There wanteth now our Brother Glofter here,
To make the bleffed Period of this Peace.

Buck. And in good time,

Here comes Sir Richard Ratcliff, and the Duke.

Enter Ratcliff and Gloucefter.

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: Glofter, we have done deeds of Charity,

Made Peace of Enmity, fair love of hate,

Between these fwelling wrong incensed Peers.

Glo. A bleffed Labour, my moft Sovereign Lord:

Among this Princely heap, if any here

By false Intelligence, or wrong Surmise

Hold me a Foe: If I unwillingly, or in my Rage,
Have ought committed that is hardly born,
To any in this Prefence, I defire

Το

To reconcile me to his friendly Peace:
'Tis death to me to be at Enmity;

I hate it, and defire all good Mens love.
First, Madam, I intreat true peace of you,
Which I will purchase with my duteous Service.
Of you my noble Coufin Buckingham,

If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us.
Of you, and you, Lord Rivers and of Dorfet,
That all without defert have frown'd on me:
Of you Lord Woodvil, and Lord Scales of you,
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.

Queen. A Holy-day thall this be kept hereafter;
I would to God all ftrifes were well compounded.
My Soveraign Lord, I do befeech your Highness
To take our Brother Clarence to your Grace.

Glo. Why, Madam, have I offer'd Love for this, To be fo flouted in this Royal Prefence?

1

Who knows not that the gentle Duke is dead? [They all start.
You do him injury to fcorn his Coarse.

K. Edw. Who knows not he is dead!

Who knows he is?

Queen. All-feeing Heav'n, what a World is this?

Buck. Look I fo pale, Lord Dorset, as the reft?

Dorf. Ay, my good Lord; and no Man in the prefence

But his red Colour hath forfook 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 bare the Countermand,

That come too lag to fee him buried.

God grant, that fome lefs Noble, and lefs Loyal,
Nearer in bloody Thoughts, and not in Blood,
Deferve no worle than wretched Clarence did,
yet go currant from fufpicion.

And

Enter Earl of Derby.

Derby. A boon, my Soveraign, for my Service done. K. Edw. I prithee peace, my Soul is full of Sorrow. VOL. IV.

I

Derby.