If two fuch Murtherers as your felves came to you,
Would not intreat for Life, as you would beg
Were you in my distress.

1 Vil. Relent? no; 'tis cowardly and womanish.
Clar. Not to relent, is beaftly, favage, devilish.
My Friend, I fpy fome pity in thy looks:
O, if thine Eye be not a Flatterer,

Come thou on my fide, and intreat for me,
A begging Prince what Beggar pities not?

2 Vil. Look behind you, my Lord.

1 Vil. Take that, and that, if all this will not do

[Stabs him, I'll drown you in the Malmfey-Butt within. [Exis 2 Vil. A bloody deed, and desperately dispatcht: How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my f Hands Of this moft grievous Murther.

Enter firft Villain.

1 Vil. How now? what mean'st thou that thou help't

me not?

By Heav'n, the Duke fhall know how flack you've been," 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,

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 must not stay.

[Exit.

[Exit.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Flourish.Enter King Edward fick, the Queen, Dorfet, Rivers, Haftings, Catesby, Buckingham, and Woodvil

K. Edw.

WHY
HY 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,

Since I have made my Friends at peace on Earth;
Haftings and Rivers, take each others hand,
Diffemble not your Hatred, fwear your Love.

Riv. By Heav'n, my Soul is purg'd from grudging Hate,
And with my Hand I feal my true Heart's Love.
Haft. So thrive 1, as I truly fwear the like.

K. Edw. Take heed you dally not before the King,
Left he, that is the fupream King of Kings,
hidden falfhood, and award
Either of you to be the others end.

Confound your

Haft. So profper I, as I fwear perfect Love.
Riv. And I, as I love Hastings with my Heart.
K.Edw. Madam, your felf is not exempt from this;
Nor you Son 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, fo thrive I and mine.

K. Edw. Dorfet, embrace him: Haftings, love Lord Mar- quifs.

Dorf. This interchange of Love, I here proteft, Upon my part, fhall be inviolable.

Haft. And fo fwear 1.

K. Edw. Now Princely Buckingham, seal 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 thofe where I expect must 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,
Be 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.
There wanteth now our Brother Glofter here,

To

To make the bleffed Period of this Peace.

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 swelling 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,
Have ought committed that is hardly born,
To any in this Presence, I defire

To reconcile me to his Friendly Peace:
'Tis death to me to be at Enmity;

I hate it, and defire all good Mens love.
Firft, Madam, I intreat true peace of you,
Which I will purchase with my duteous Service.
Of you my noble Coufin Buckingham,

If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us.
Of you, and you, Lord Rivers and of Dorset,
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 Soul is any jot at odds,
More than the Infant that is born to night;
1 thank my God for my Humility.

Queen. A Holy-day fhall this be kept hereafters
I would to God all ftrifes were well compounded.
My Soveraign 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 fcorn his Coarfe.

[They all start.

K. Edw.

K. Edw. Who knows not he is dead!'

Who knows he is?

Queen. All-feeing Heav'n, what a World is this?
Buck. Look I fo pale, Lord Dorfet, as the rest?

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 bare the Countermand,
That came too lag to fee him buried.

God grant, that fome lefs Noble, and lefs Loyal,
Nearer in bloody Thoughts, and not in Bloed,
Deferve no worfe than wretched Clarence did,
And yet go currant from fufpicion.

Enter Earl of Derby.

Derby. A boon, my Sovereign, for my Service done. K. Edw. I prithee peace, my Soul is full of Sorrow.. Derby. I will not rife, unless your Highness hear me. K. Edw. Then fay at once, what is it thou requeft'ff. Derby. The forfeit, Soveraign, of my Servant'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 fhall 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 in love? Who told me, how the poor Soul 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 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 pluckt, 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 Slaughter, and defac'd
The precious Image of our dear Redeemer,
You ftraight 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 self
For him, poor Soul. The proudeft of you all,
Have been beholding to him in his Life:
Yet none of you, would once beg for his Life.
O God! I fear thy Juftice will take hold
On me, and you; and mine, and your's for this.
Come Haftings help me to my Closet.

Ah poor Clarence! [Exeunt fome with the King and Queen.
Glo. This is the fruits of Rafhnefs: Mark'd you not,
How that the 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.

[Exeunti

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 Son!

Son. Why do you look on us, and shake your Head, i And call us Orphans, Wretches, Caftaways,

If that our Noble Father were 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 Sorrow to wail one that's loft.