Confound your hidden falfhood, and award
Either of you to be the other's end.

Haft. So profper I, as I fwear perfect love! Riv. And I, as I love Haftings with my heart! K. Edw. Madam, yourself is not exempt from this; Nor your fon Dorfet; Buckingham, nor you; You have been factious one against the other. 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, so thrive I and mine!

K. Edw. Dorfet, embrace him :-Haftings, love lord marquis.

Dor. This interchange of love, I here protest, 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 those where I expect most love!
When I have moft need to employ a friend,
And most affured that he is a friend,
Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile,
Be he to me! This do I beg of heaven,
When I am cold in zeal, 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 the noble duke.

Enter

2

Enter Gloucefter.

Glo. Good morrow to my fovereign king and

queen;

And princely peers, a happy time of day !

K. Edw. Happy, indeed, as we have spent the
day :-

Brother, 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 fovereign liege.-
Among this princely heap, if any here
By falfe intelligence, or wrong furmise,
Hold me a foe; if I unwittingly

Have aught committed that is hardly borne
By any in this prefence, I defire

To reconcile me to his friendly peace.
'Tis death to me to be at enmity;

I hate it, and defire all good men's love.-
First, madam, I entreat true peace of you,
Which I will purchase with my duteous fervice ;-
Of you, my noble coufin Buckingham,

If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us:—
Of you, lord Rivers; and, lord Grey, of you;
That all without defert have frown'd on me ;-
Of you, lord Woodville, and lord Scales ;—of you,
Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen, indeed, of all.
I do not know that Englishman alive,

With whom my foul 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 this fhall be kept hereafter:I would to God all ftrifes were well compounded.-My fovereign lord, I do befeech your highness To take our brother Clarence to your grace.

Glo. Why, madam, have I offered love for this, To be fo flouted in this royal prefence?

Who

Who knows not, that the gentle duke is dead? [They all start.

You do him injury, to fcorn his corfe.

K. Edw. Who knows not, he is dead! who knows

he is?

Queen. All-feeing heaven, what a world is this! Buck. Look I fo pale, lord Dorset, as the rest? Dor. 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 had the countermand,
That came too lag to fee him buried:-

God grant, that some, less noble, and less loyal,
Nearer in bloody thoughts, and not in blood,
Deferve no worse than wretched Clarence did,
And yet go current from fufpicion!

Enter Lord Stanley.

Stanl. A boon, my fovereign, for my fervice done.
K. Edw. I pr'ythee, peace; my foul is full of

forrow.

Stanl. I will not rife, unless your highness hear me. K. Edw. Then fay at once, what is it thou request'K. Stanl. The forfeit, fovereign, of my fervant's life; Who flew to day, a riotous gentleman,

Lately attendant on the duke of Norfolk.

K. Edw. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's
death?

And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave?
My brother kill'd no man; his fault was thought;
And yet his punishment was bitter death.

3 The forfeit-] He means the remifion of the forfeit. JOHNS. 4 Har I tongue to doom a brother's death?] This lamentation is very tender and pathetick. The recollection of the good qualities of the dead is very natural, and no lefs naturally does the king endeavour to communicate the crime to others. JOHNSON.

Who

Who fued to me for him? who, in my wrath,
Kneel'd at my feet, and bid me be advis'd?
Who spoke of brotherhood? who fpoke of love?
Who told me, how the poor foul did forfake
The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me?
Who told me, in the field at Tewksbury,
When Oxford had me down, he rescu'd me?
And faid, Dear brother, live, and be a king?
Who told me, when we both lay in the field,
Frozen almoft to death, how he did lap me
Even in his garments; and did give himself,
All thin, and naked to the numb-cold night?
All this from my remembrance brutish wrath
Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you
Had fo much grace to put it in my mind.
But, when your carters, or your waiting vaffals,
Have done a drunken flaughter, and defac'd
The precious image of our dear Redeemer,
You ftrait are on your knees for pardon, pardon →→→
And I, unjustly too, muft grant it you :-
But for my brother, not a man would speak,-
Nor I (ungracious) fpake unto myself
For him, poor foul.-The proudest of you all
Have been beholden to him in his life,
Yet none of you would once plead for his life,
-O God! Í fear, thy juftice will take hold
On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this.-
-Come, Haftings, help me to my closet. Oh
Poor Clarence! [Exeunt fome with the King and Queen.
Glo. These are the fruits of rafhnefs !-Mark'd you

not,

How that the guilty kindred of the queen
Look'd pale, when they did hear of Clarence' death?
O! they did urge it ftill unto the king:

God will revenge it. Come, lords; will you go
To comfort Edward with our company

Buck. We wait upon your grace.

?

[Exeunt. SCENE

SCENE II.

The fame.

Enter the Dutchess of York, with the two children of
Clarence.

Son. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead?
Dutch. No, boy.

Daugh. Why do you weep so oft? and beat your
breaft?

And cry,-O Clarence! my unhappy fon!

Son. Why do you look on us, and shake your head,
And call us, orphans, wretches, cast-aways,
If that our noble father be alive?

Dutch. My pretty coufins, you mistake me both :
I do lament the fickness of the king,

As loth to lose him, not your father's death;
It were loft forrow, to wail one that's loft.

Son. Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead.
The king, mine uncle, is to blame for this:
God will revenge it, whom I will importune
With earnest prayers, all to that effect.
Daugh. And fo will I.

Dutch. 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 Glofter
Told me the king, provok'd to't by the queen,
Devis'd impeachments to imprison him:
And when my uncle told me fo, he wept,
And pitied me, and kindly kifs'd my cheek:
Bade me rely on him, as on my father,
And he would love me dearly as his child.

Dutch. Ah! that deceit fhould steal fuch gentle

shape,

And with a virtuous vizor hide deep vice!

VOL. VII.

E

He