Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept Clar. Methought, I had ; and often did I strive Brak. Awak'd you not with this sore agony? The first that there did greet my stranger soul, Clar. O, Brakenbury, I have done these things,That now give evidence against my soul, [2] By seeming to gaze upon it; or, as we now say, ogle it. JOHNS. Ne'er saw, when cold Lucretia's mourning shadow [4] Fleeting is the same as changing sides. JOHNS. STEEV. For Edward's sake; and, see, how he requites me !- children! Brak. I will, my lord; God give your grace good rest !— [CLARENCE reposes himself on a chair. Sorrow breaks seasons, and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night. And, for unfelt imaginations, They often feel a world of restless cares : Enter the two Murderers. 1 Mur. Ho! who's here? Brak. What wouldst thou, fellow? and how cam'st thou hither? 1 Mur. I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. Brak. What, so brief? 2 Mur. O, sir, 'tis better to be brief than tedious :Let him see our commission; talk no more. [A Paper is delivered to BRAKENBURY Brak. I am, in this, commanded to deliver That thus I have resign'd to you my charge. 1 Mur. You may, sir; 'tis a point of wisdom : Fare [Exit BRAKENBURY. you well. 2 Mur. What, shall we stab him as he sleeps? 1 Mur. No, he'll say, 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes. 2 Mur. When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake until the great judgment day. 1 Mur. Why, then he'll say, we stabb'd him sleeping. [5] They often suffer real miseries for imaginary and unreal gratification. JOHNS. 2 Mur. The urging of that word, judgment, hath bred a kind of remorse in me. 1 Mur. What? art thou afraid? 2 Mur. Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be damn'd for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend me. 1 Mur. I thought, thou had'st been resolute. 2 Mur. So I am, to let him live. 1 Mur. I'll back to the duke of Gloster, and tell him so. 2 Mur. Nay, I pr'ythee, stay a little: I hope, this holy humour of mine will change; it was wont to hold me but while one would tell twenty. 1 Mur. How dost thou feel thyself now? 2 Mur. 'Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me. 1 Mur. Remember our reward, when the deed's done. 2 Mur. Come, he dies; I had forgot the reward. 1 Mur. Where's thy conscience now? 2 Mur. In the duke of Gloster's purse. 1 Mur. So, when he opens his purse to give us our reward, thy conscience flies out. 2 Mur. 'Tis no matter; let it go; there's few, or none, will entertain it. 1 Mur. What, if it come to thee again? 2 Mur. I'll not meddle with it, it is a dangerous thing, it makes a man a coward; a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him ; a man cannot swear, but it checks him; a man cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it detects him: 'Tis a blushing shame-faced spirit, that mutinies in a man's bosom ; it fills one full of obstacles; it made me once restore a purse of gold, that by chance I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it is turned out of all towns and cities for a dangerous thing; and every man, that means to live well, endeavours to trust to himself, and live without it. 1 Mur. Zounds, 'tis even now at my elbow, persuading me not to kill the duke. 2 Mur. Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him not: he would insinuate with thee, but to make thee sigh. 1 Mur. I am strong-fram'd, he cannot prevail with me. 2 Mur. Spoke like a tall fellow, that respects his reputation. Come, shall we fall to work? Mur. Take him over the costard? with the hilts of E7] The costard-that is, the head; a name adopted from an apple shaped like a man's head. STEEV. 28 VOL. V. thy sword, and then throw him into the malmsey-butt, in the next room. 2 Mur. O excellent device! and make a sop of him. 1 Mur. Soft! he wakes. 2 Mur. Strike. 1 Mur. No, we'll reason with him. Clar. Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine. 1 Mur. You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. Clar. In God's name, what art thou? 1 Mur. A man, as you are. Clar. But not, as I am, royal. 1 Mur. Nor you, as we are, loyal. Clar. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. 1 Mur. My voice is now the king's,my looks mine own. Clar. How darkly, and how deadly dost thou speak ! Your eyes do menace me: Why look you pale ? Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come ? Both Mur. To, to, to Clar. To murder me? Clar. You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so, And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. Wherein, my friends, have I offended you? 1 Mur. Offended us you have not, but the king. Clar. I shall be reconcil'd to him again. 2 Mur. Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die. What lawful quest9 have given their verdict up To threaten me with death is most unlawful. The deed you undertake is damnable. 1 Mur. What we will do, we do upon command. 2 Mur. And he, that hath commanded, is our king. Clar. Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings Hath in the table of his law commanded, That thou shalt do no murder; Wilt thou then [8] I think it may be better read: Are ye cull'd forth[9] Quest is inquest or jury. JOHNS. JOHNS. Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's? Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hand, 2 Mur. And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee, For false forswearing, and for murder too: Thou didst receive the sacrament, to fight In quarrel of the house of Lancaster. 1 Mur. And, like a traitor to the name of God, Didst break that vow; and, with thy treacherous blade, Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son. 2 Mur. Whom thou wast sworn to cherish and defend. 1 Mur. How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us, When thou hast broke it in such dear degree? Clar. Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed? He sends you not to murder me for this; If God will be avenged for the deed, 1 Mur. Who made thee then a bloody minister, When gallant-springing, brave Plantagenet, 1 That princely novice, was struck dead by thee ?2 Clar. My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. 1 Mur. Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault, Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee. Clar. If you do love my brother, hate not me ; I am his brother, and I love him well. If you are hir'd for meed, go back again, And I will send you to my brother Gloster ; Than Edward will for tidings of my death. 2 Mur. You are deceiv'd, your brother Gloster hates you.3 Clar. O no; he loves me, and he holds me dear: Go you to him from me. Both Mur. Ay, so we will. Clar. Tell him, when that our princely father York JOHNS. [1] Blooming Plantagenet; a prince in the spring of life. [2] Novice-youth; one yet new to the world. JOHNS. [3] Shakspeare has followed the current tale of his own time, in suppos ing that Clarence was imprisoned by Edward, and put to death by order of his brother Richard, without trial or condemnation. But the truth is, that lie was tried and found guilty by his Peers, and a bill of attainder was afterwards passed against him. MAL. |