Take heed, for he holds Vengeance in his Hand 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 Houfe of Lancaster. i Vil. And like a Traitor to the name of God, Didft break that Vow, and with thy treacherous blade, Unrip'dft the Bowels of thy Soveraign's Son. 2 Vil. Whom thou waft fworn to cherish and defend: 1 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? If God will be avenged for the deed, I Vil. Who made thee then a bloody Minifter, Clar. If you do love my Brother, hate not me: If you are hir'd for meed, go back again, 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 little thought of this divided Friendship: '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. 1 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 muft die, my Lord. Clar. Have you that holy feeling in your Souls, To counsel 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 shall we do? Clar. Relent, and fave your Souls: If two fuch Murtherers as your felves came to you, 1 Vil. Relent? no; 'tis cowardly and womanish. Come thou on my fide, and intreat for me, I Vil. Take that, and that; if all this will not do, I'll drown you in the Malmsey-Butt within. [Stabs him. [Exit. 2 Vil. A bloody deed, and defperately 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'ft me not? By Heav'n, the Duke fhall know how flack have been. you 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, [Exit. 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 muft not stay. ACT II. SCENE I. [Exit. Flourish. Enter King Edward fick, the Queen, Dorset, Rivers, Haftings, Catesby, Buckingham, and Woodvil. K. Edw. WHY fo; now have I done a good day's work. You Peers continue this united League: I every Day expect an Embaffage From my Redeemer, to redeem me hence. And more in peace my Soul fhall part to Heav'n, Riv. By Heav'n, my Soul is purg'd from bearing Hate, K. Edw. Take heed you dally not before the King, Haft. So profper I, as I fwear perfe& Love. Nor you Son Dorfet, Buckingham nor you; Wife, Wife, love Lord Haftings, let him kiss your Hand, 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 swear 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 those 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. 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 falfe Intelligence, or wrong Surmife Hold me a Foe: If I unwillingly, or in my Rage, Το To reconcile me to his friendly Peace: I hate it, and defire all good Mens love. If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us. Queen. A Holy-day fhall this be kept hereafter; Glo. Why, Madam, have I offer'd Love for this, To be fo flouted in this Royal Prefence? Who knows not that the gentle Duke is dead? [They all start. You do him injury to scorn his Coarse. K. Edw. Who knows not he is dead! Who knows he is? Queen. All-feeing Heav'n, what a World is this? But his red Colour hath forfook his Cheeks. K. Edw. Is Clarence dead? the Order was revers'd. Some tardy Cripple bare the Countermand, God 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. |