ACT II. SCENE I.

The COURT.

Enter King Edward fick, the Queen, Dorset, Rivers, Haftings, Catesby, Buckingham, and other Lords.

WH

K. EDWARD.

HY, fo; now have I done a good day's work.
You Peers, continue this united league:

I every day expect an embassage

From my Redeemer to recall me hence.

And now in peace my foul fhall part to heav'n,
Since I have made my friends at peace on earth;
Haftings and Rivers, take each other's hand,
Diffemble not your hatred, fwear your love.

Riv. By heav'n, my foul is purg'd from grudging hate,
And with my hand I feal my true heart's love.
Haft. So thrive I, as I truly fwear the like!
K. Edw. Take heed you dally not before your King,
Left he that is the fupream King of Kings
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, your felf 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 kifs 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 Marquifs.

Dorf.

Dorf. This interchange of love, I here protest,

Upon my part, fhall be inviolable.

Haft. And fo fwear I.

[league

K. Edw. Now, Princely Buckingham, feal thou this

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, and not with 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 most 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 Glo'fter here,

To make the bleffed period of this peace.

Buck. And in good time here comes the noble Duke:
Enter Gloucefter and Ratcliff.

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 : Brother, we have done deeds of charity,

Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate,

Between these swelling wrong-incenfed Peers.

Glo. A bleffed labour, my moft Sovereign Liege :
Among this Princely heap, if any here

By false intelligence, or wrong furmise
Hold me a foe: if I unwittingly
Have ought committed that is hardly born
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 intreat true peace of you,
Which I will purchase with my duteous fervice.
Of you, my noble cousin 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 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 fhall this be kept hereafter;
I would to God all ftrifes were well compounded!
My Sovereign 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?

Who knows not that the gentle Duke is dead?

You do him injury to scorn his Coarse.

[They all start.

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 Dorfet, 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 firft 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 fome less noble, and less loyal,
Nearer in bloody thoughts, and not in blood,
Deferve no worfe than wretched Clarence did,
And yet go currant from fufpicion!

Enter

Enter Lord Stanley.

Stan. A boon, my Sov'reign, for my service done. K. Edw. I pr'ythee, peace; my foul is full of forrow. Stan. I will not rife, unless your Highness hear me. K. Edw. Then fay at once, what is it thou request'st. Stan. The forfeit, Sov'reign, 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. Who fued to me for him? who, in my wrath, Kneel'd at my feet, and bid me be advis'd? Who fpoke of brotherhood? who spoke 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 rescued me, And faid, Dear brother, live and be a King? Who told me, when we both lay in the field, Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me Ev'n 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 my felf For him, poor foul. The proudeft of you Have been beholden to him in his life: Yet none of you would once plead for his life. VOL. IV.

X

all

O God!

O God! I fear thy justice will take hold

On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this.
Come, Hastings, help me to my closet.
Poor Clarence!

Ah!

[Exeunt fome with the King and Queen. Glo. These are the fruits of rashness: mark'd you not, How that the guilty kindred of the Queen

Look'd pale, when they did hear of Clarence' death?
Oh! they did urge it ftill unto the King.

God will revenge it. Come, Lords, will you go
To comfort Edward with our company?

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

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 fo oft? and beat your breast? And cry, O Clarence! my unhappy fon!

Son. Why do you look on us, and shake your head, And call us orphans, wretches, caft-aways,

If that our noble father be alive?

Dutch. My pretty coufins, you mistake me both.

I do lament the sickness 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 you conclude, my grandam, he is dead: The King mine uncle is to blame for this.

God will revenge it, whom I will importune
With daily earnest prayers.

Daugh. And fo will I.

[you well.

Dutch. Peace, children, peace; the King doth love Incapable and fhallow 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