Withal obdurate, do not hea: him plead;
For Clarence is well-fpoken, and, perhaps,
May move your Hearts to pity, if you mark him.

Vil. Tut, tut, my Lord, we will not stand to prate,
Talkers are no good doers; be affur'd,

We go to ufe our Hads, and not our Tongues.

Glo. Your Eyes drop Mill-stones, when Fools Eyes fall
Tears.

I like you Lads, about your business straight.

Go, go, difpatch.

Vil. We will, my Noble Lord.

SCENE

[Exeunt.

IV.

Enter Clarence and Keeper.

Keep. Why looks your Grace fo heavily to day?
Clar. O I have paft a miferable Night,
So full of fearful Dreams of ugly Sights,
That, as I am a Christian faithful Man,
I would not spend another such a Night,
Though 'twere to buy a world of happy Days:
So full of difinal Terror was the time.

Keep. What was your Dream, my Lord, I pray you tell me.
Clar. Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower,
And was embark'd to crols to Burgundy,

And in my Company my Brother Glofter,
Who from my Cabin tempted me to walk

Upon the Hatches. There we look'd toward England,
And cited up a thousand heavy Times,
During the Wars of York and Lancaster,
That had befilo us. As he pac'd along
Upon the giddy footing of the Hatches,
Methought that Glofter ftumbled, and in falling
Struck me, that thought to stay him, over-boaid,
Into the tumbling Billows of the Main.

O Lord, methought, what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful Noife of Waters in mine Ears!
What fights of ugly Death within mine Eyes!
Methoughts, I faw a thousand fearful Wracks;
A thoufand Men that Fishes gnaw'd upon:
Wedges of Gold, great Anchors, heaps of Pearl,

Ineftimable

Ineftimable Stones, unvalued Jewels

All (catter'd in the bottom of the Sea:

Some lay in dead Mens Skulls, and in the holes
Where Eyes did once inhabit, there were crept,
As 'twere in fcorn of Eyes, reflecting Gems,
That woo'd the flimy bottom of the Deep,
And mock'd the dead Bones that lay fcatter'd by.
Keep. Had you fuch leifure in the time of Death,
To gaze upon the Secrets of the Deep?

Clar. Methought I had, and often did I ftrive
To yield the Gooft; but ftill the envious Flood
Stop'd in my Soul, and would not let it forth
To find the empty, vaft, and wand'ring Air;
But fmother'd it within my panting Bulk,
Who almost burst to belch it in the Sea.
Keep. Awak'd you not in this fore Agony?
Clar. No, no, my Dream was lengthen'd after Life.
O then began the Tempeft to my Soul:

I paft, methought, the melancholy Flood,
With that four Ferry-man which Poets writes of,
Unto the Kingdom of perpetual Night.

The first that there did greet my Stranger-foul,
Was my great Father-in-Law, renowned Warwick,
Who fpake aloudWhat Scourge for Perjury
Can this dark Monarchy afford falfe Clarence?
And fo he vanish'd. Then came wand'ring by,
A Shadow like an Angel, with bright Hair
Dabbled in Blood, and he fhriek'd out aloud-
Clarence is come, falfe, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence,
That ftabb'd me in the Field by Tewksbury;
Seize on him, Furies, take him unto Torment
With that, methought, a Legion of foul Fiends
Inviron'd me, and howled in mine Ears
Such hideous Cries, that with the very Noife,
I, trembling, wak'd; and for a feafon after
Could not believe but that I was in Hell:
Such terrible Impreffions made my Dream.
Keep. No marvel, Lord, tho' it affrighted you,
I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.
Clar. Ah Keeper, Keeper, I have done these things,
That now give evidence againft my Soul,

For

For Edward's fake; and fee how he requites me.
O God! if my deep Prayers cannot appease thee,
But thou wilt be aveng'd on my Misdeeds,
Yet execute thy Wrath on me alone:

fpare my guiltlefs Wife, and my poor Children. Keeper, I prithee fit by me a-while,

My Soul is heavy, and I fain would fleep.

Keep. I will, my Lord, God give your Grace good reft. Enter Brakenbury the Lieutenant.

Brak. Sorrow breaks Seafons and repofing hours, Makes the Night Morning, and the Noon-tide Night: Princes have but their Titles for their Glories,

An outward Honour, for an inward Toil,

And for unfelt Imaginations,

They often feel a world of restlefs Cares:
So that between their Titles and low Name,
There's nothing differs but the outward Fame.
Enter two Villains.

1 Vil. Ho, who's here?

Brak. What would'ft thou, Fellow? And how cam'ft thou hither?

2 Vil. I would fpeak with Clarence, and I came hither on my Legs.

Brak. What, fo brief?

1 Vil. 'Tis better, Sir, than to be tedious:

Let him fee our Commiffion, and talk no more.
Brak. I am in this commanded, to deliver
The Noble Duke of Clarence to your Hands.
I will not reason what is meant hereby,
Because I will be guiltless from the meaning.
There lyes the Duke afleep, and there the Keys.
I'll to the King, and fignifie to him,

That thus I have refign'd to you my charge.
1 Vil. You may, Sir, 'tis a point of Wisdom:

Fare you well.

2 Vil. What, fhall we ftab him as he fleeps?

[Reads.

[Exit.

1 Vil. No; he'll fay 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes. 2 Vil. Why he hall never wake, until the great Judg. ment Day.

1 Vil. Why then he'll fay, we ftabb'd him fleeping.

2. Vil. The urging of that word Judgment, hath bred a kind of Remorfe in me.

1 Vil What? art thou afraid?

2 Vil. Not to kill him, having a Warrant

But to be damn'd for killing him, from the which
No Warrant can defend me.

I Vil. I thought thou hadft been refolute.

2 Vil. So I am, to let him live.

1 Vil. I'll back to the Duke of Glofter, and tell him fo. 2 Kil. Nay, prithee ftay a little :

I hope this paffionate Humour of mine will change; It was wont to hold me but a while one tells twenty. 1 Vil. How doft thou feel thy felf now?

2 Vil. Some certain dregs of Confcience are yet within me. Vil. Remember the Reward, when the Deed's done. 2 Vil. Come he dies: I had forgot the Reward.

1 Vil. Where's thy Confcience now?

2 Vil. O, in the Duke of Glo'ster's Purfe.

1 Vil. When he opens his Purfe to give us our Reward, thy Confcience flies out.

2 Vil. 'Tis no matter, let it go; there's few or none will

entertain it.

1 Vil. What if it come to thee again?

2 Vil. I'll not meddle with it, it makes a Man a Coward: A Man cannot fteal, but it accuseth him; a Man cannot fwear, but it checks him; a Man cannot lye with his Neighbour's Wife, but it detects him. 'Tis a blushing shamefac'd Spirit, that mutinies in a Man's Bofom: It fills a Man full of Obftacles. It made me once reftore a Purfe of Gold that, by chance, I found. It beggars any Man that keeps it. It is turn'd out of Towns and Cities for a dangerous thing, and every Man that means to live well, endeavours to truft himself, and live without it.

1 Vil. 'Tis even now at my Elbow, perfuading me not to kill the Duke.

2 Vil. Take the Devil in thy mind, and believe him not: He would infinuate with thee but to make thee figh.

1 Vil. I am strong fram'd, he cannot prevail with me. 2 Vil. Spoke like a tall Man, that refpects thy Reputation. Come, thall we fall to work?

1 Vil. Take him on the Coftard, with the Hilt of thy Sword, and then throw him into the Malmfie-butt in the next Room.

2 Vil. O excellent Device, and make a Sop of him.
1 Vil. Soft, he wakes.

2 Vil. Strike.

1 Vil. No, we'll reafon with him.

Clar. Where are thou, Keeper? Give me a Cup of Wine.
2 Vil. You fhall have Wine enough, my Lord, anon.
Clar. In God's Name what art thou?

Vil. A Man, as you are.
Clar. But not as I am, Royal.

1 Vil. Nor you as we are, Loyal.

Clar. Thy Voice is thunder, but thy Looks are humble. I Vil. My Voice is now the King's, my Looks mine own. Clar. How darkly, and how deadly dost thou speak? Your Eyes do menace me: Why look you pale? Who fent you hither? wherefore do you come? 2 Vil. To, to, to

Clar. To Murther me?
Both. Ay, ay.

Clar. You fcarcely have the Hearts to tell me fo; And therefore cannot have the Hearts to do it. Wherein, my Friends, have I offended you?

1 Vil. Offended us you have not, but the King.
Clar. I fhall be reconcil'd to him again.

2 Vil. Never, my Lord, therefore prepare to dye.
Clar. Are you drawn forth among a World of Men,
To fly the innocent? What's my Offence?
Where is the Evidence that doth accufe me;
What lawful Quest have given their Verdict up
Unto the frowning Judge? Or who pronounc'd
The bitter Sentence of poor Clarence's Death?
Before I be convict by courfe of Law,
To threaten me with Death, is moft unlawful.
I charge you, as you hope for any goodness,
That you depart, and lay no Hands on me:
The deed you undertake is damnable.

1 Vil. What we will do, we do upon command.
2 Vil. And he that hath commanded, is our King.
Clar. Erroneous Vaffals, the great King of King
Hath in the Table of his Law commanded,
That Thou shalt do no Murther; Will you then
Spurn at his Edi&s, and fulfil a Man's?

Take