To ftrut before a wanton, ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by diffembling nature,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, fent before my time
Into this breathing world; scarce half made up,
And that fo lamely and unfafhionably,
That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them:
Why I, (in this weak piping time of peace)
Have no delight to pass away the time;
Unless to see my fhadow in the fun,
And defcant on mine own deformity.
And therefore, fince I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-fpoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain,
And hate the idle pleafures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophefies, libels, and dreams,
To fet my brother Clarence and the King
In deadly hate, the one against the other:
And if King Edward be as true and just,
As I am fubtle, falfe and treacherous,
This day fhould Clarence clofely be mew'd
About a prophefy which fays that G
Of Edward's heirs the murtherer fhall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my foul! here Clarence comes. Enter Clarence guarded, and Brakenbury.
Brother, good day; what means this armed guard
That waits upon your Grace?
Cla. His Majefty,
Tend'ring my perfon's fafety, hath appointed
This conduct to convey me to the Tower.
Glo. Upon what cause?
Cla. Because my name is George.
Glo. Alack, my Lord, that fault is none of yours :
He fhould for that commit your godfathers.
Belike, his Majefty hath fome intent,
That you fhould be new chriftned in the Tower.
But what's the matter, Clarence, may I know?
Cla. Yea, Richard, when I know; for I proteft
As yet I do not; but as I can learn,
He hearkens after prophefies and dreams,
And from the crofs-row plucks the letter G ;
And fays a wizard told him, that by G
His iffue difinherited fhould be.
And for my name of George begins with G,
It follows in his thought that I am he.
These, as I learn, and fuch like toys as thefe,
Have mov'd his Highness to commit me now.
Glo. Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by women
'Tis not the King that fends you to the Tower;
My Lady Gray his wife, Clarence, 'tis fhe,
That tempts him to this harsh extremity.
Was it not the, and that good man of worship,
Anthony Woodvil 2 'he her brother there,
That made him fend Lord Haftings to the Tower?
From whence this day he is delivered.
We are not fafe; Clarence, we are not fafe.
Cla. By heav'n, I think there is no man fecure
But the Queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds
That trudge between the King and mistress Shore.
Heard you not what an humble fuppliant
Lord Haftings was to her for his delivery?
Glo. Humbly complaining to her Deity,
Got my Lord Chamberlain his liberty.
I'll tell you what; I think it is our way,
If we will keep in favour with the King,
To be her men, and wear her livery:
The jealous o'erworn widow, and her felf,
Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen,
Are mighty goffips in our monarchy.
Brak. I beg your Graces both to pardon me?
His Majefty hath ftraitly giv'n in charge,
That no man fhall have private conference,
Of what degree foever, with your brother.
VOL. IV.
Glo. Ev'n fo, an't please your worship, Brakenbury! You may partake of any thing we say:
We fpeak no treafon, man- we fay the King
Is wife and virtuous, and his noble Queen
Well ftrook in years, fair, and 'not over-jealous.`
We fay that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
A cherry lip, a paffing pleafing tongue:
That the Queen's kindred are made gentle-folks:
How fay you, Sir? can you deny all this?
Brak. With this, my Lord, my self have nought to do.
Glo. What, fellow? nought to do with mistress Shore?
I tell you, Sir, he that doth naught with her,
Excepting one, were 'beft do it fecretly.
Brak. What one, my Lord?
Glo. Her husband, knave—wouldft thou betray me?
Brak. I do befeech your Grace to pardon me,
And to forbear your conf'rence with the Duke.
Cla. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.
Glo. We are the Queen's abjects, and must obey.
Brother, farewel; I will unto the King,
And whatfoe'er you will employ me in,
(Were it to call King Edward's widow fifter)
I will perform it to infranchise you.
Mean time, this deep difgrace of brotherhood
Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
Cla. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
Glo. Well, your imprisonment fhall not be long,
I will deliver you, or elfe lie for you:
Mean time have patience..
Cla. I muft 'perforce. [Exe. Brakenbury and Clarence. Glo. Go, tread the path that thou fhalt ne'er return: Simple plain Clarence I do love thee fo, That I will fhortly fend thy foul to heav'n, If heav'n will take the present at 'my hands. But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Haftings?
Haft. Good time of day unto my gracious Lord! Glo. As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain ! Well are you welcome to the open air.
How hath your Lordship brook'd imprisonment?
Haft. With patience, noble Lord, as pris'ners muft:
But I fhall live, my Lord, to give them thanks
That were the caufe of my imprisonment.
Glo. No doubt, no doubt, and fo fhall Clarence too; For they that were your enemies are his,
And have prevail'd as much on him as you.
Haft. More pity, that the Eagle fhould be mew'd, While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.
Glo. What news abroad?
Haft. No news fo bad abroad as this at home:
The King is fickly, weak, and melancholy,
And his phyficians fear him mightily.
Glo. Now by St. Paul, that news is bad indeed.
O, he hath kept an evil diet long,
And over-much confum'd his royal perfon:
'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.
Where is he, in his bed?
Haft. 'He is, my Lord.`
Glo. Go you before, and I will follow you. [Ex. Haftings. He cannot live, I hope; and muft not die,
'Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heav'n.
I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
With lies well fteel'd with weighty arguments;
And if I fail not in my deep intent,
Clarence hath not another day to live:
Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,
And leave the world for me to buftle in!
For then, I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter:
What though I kill'd her husband, and her father?
The readieft way to make the wench amends,
Is to become her husband and her father:
The which will I, not all fo much for love,
As for another fecret clofe intent,
/Which I, by marrying her, must reach unto. But yet I run before my horfe to market:
Clarence ftill breathes, Edward still lives and reigns; When they are gone, then must I count my gains. [Exit.
Enter the Coarfe of Henry the Sixth, with halberds to guard it, Lady Anne being the Mourner. Anne.SET down, fet down your honourable load,
If honour may be fhrouded in a herse;
Whilft I a while obfequioufly lament
Th' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
Poor clay-cold figure of a holy King!
Pale afhes of the houfe of Lancaster!
Thou bloodlefs remnant of that royal blood,
Be't lawful that I invocate thy ghoft,
To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,
Wife to thy Edward, to thy flaughter'd fon,
Stab'd by the felf-fame hand that made these wounds.
Lo, in thefe windows that let forth thy life,
pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.
Curs'd be the hand that made these fatal holes!
Curs'd be the heart that had the heart to do it!
More direful hap betide that hated wretch
That makes us wretched by the death of thee,
Than I can wish to adders, fpiders, toads,
Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!
If ever he have child, abortive be it,
Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,
Whofe ugly and unnatural aspect
May fright the hopeful mother at the view:
8 By marrying her, which I
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