By false intelligence, or wrong surmise, If I unwittingly, or in my rage, Have aught committed that is hardly borne I hate it, and desire all good men's love.- If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us ;- Q. Eliz. A holy-day shall this be kept hereafter:- Glo. Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this, You do him injury, to scorn his corse. [They all start. K. Edw. Who knows not he is dead? who knows he is? Q. Eliz. All-seeing heaven, what a world is this! Buck. Look I so pale, lord Dorset, as the rest? Dor. Ay, my good lord; and no man in the presence, But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. K. Edw. Is Clarence dead? the order was revers'd. God grant, that some, less noble, and less loyal, Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, Enter STANLEY. Stan. A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! K. Edw. I pr'ythee, peace; my soul is full of sorrow. Stan. I will not rise, unless your highness hear me. K. Edw. Then say at once, what is it thou request'st. Stan. The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life; Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman, Lately attendant on the duke of Norfolk. K. Edw. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death, You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; Yet none of you would once plead for his lifc.— 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. O, Poor Clarence! [Exeunt King, Queen, Hast. Riv. Dor. and Grey. Glo. This is the fruit of rashness!-Mark'd you not, How that the guilty kindred of the queen Look'd pale, when they did hear of Clarence' death? God will revenge it. Come, lords; will you go, Buck. We wait upon your grace. SCENE 11. The same. [Exeunt. Enter the DUCHESS of YORK, with a Son and Daughter of CLARENCE. Son. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead? [breast; Daugh. Why do you weep so oft? and beat your And cry-O Clarence, my unhappy son! 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? Duch. My pretty cousins, you mistake me both; I do lament the sickness of the king, As loath to lose him, not your father's death; It were lost sorrow, to wail one that's lost. Son. Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead. The king, my uncle, is to blame for this: God will revenge it; whom I will impórtune [well : Duch. Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you Incapable and shallow innocents, You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death. Son. Grandam, we can: for my good uncle Gloster Told me, the king, provok'd to't by the queen, Devis'd impeachments to imprison him: And when my uncle told me so, he wept, And pitied me, and kindly kiss'd my cheek; Duch. Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice! He is my son, ay, and therein my shame, Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. Son. Think you, my uncle did dissemble, grandam? Duch. Ay, boy. Son. I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this? Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, distractedly; RIVERS and DORSET following her. Q. Eliz. Ah! who shall hinder me to wail and weep? To chide my fortune, and torment myself? I'll join with black despair against my soul, And to myself become an enemy. Duch. What means this scene of rude impatience? That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; Duch. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow, As I had title in thy noble husband! I have bewept a worthy husband's death, But now, two mirrors of his princely semblance : Son. Ah, aunt you wept not for our father's death; How can we aid you with our kindred tears? Daugh. Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd, Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept! Q. Eliz. Give me no help in lamentation, am not barren to bring forth laments: All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, That I, being govern'd by the watery moon, May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! Ah, for my husband, for my dear lord Edward! Chil. Ah, for our father, for our dear lord Clarence! Duch. Alas, for both, both mine, Edward and Cla rence! [gone. Q. Eliz. What stay had I, but Edward? and he's Chil. What stay had we, but Clarence? and he's gone. Duch. What stays had I, but they? and they are gone. Q. Eliz. Was never widow, had so dear a loss. Chil. Were never orphans, had so dear a loss. Duch. Was never mother, had so dear a loss. Alas! I am the mother of these griefs; Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general. She for an Edward weeps, and so do I: I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I: I for an Edward weep, so do not they:Alas! you three, on me, threefold distress'd, Pour all your tears, I am your sorrow's nurse, And I will pamper it with lamentations. - Dor. Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeas'd, That you take with unthankfulness his doing; In common worldly things, 'tis call'd-ungrateful, With dull unwillingness to repay a debt, Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; Riv. Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, Of the young prince your son: send straight for him. Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives: Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. |