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Yet, even in death, my fleeting soul pursues thee;
Lady A. Wouldst thou not blame me, to forgive thy crimes?
Glost. They are not to be forgiven; no, not even Penitence can atone them-Oh, misery Of thought, that strikes me with, at once, repent
And despair!-though unpardon'd, yield me pity.
Lady A. All men, I hope, live so.
Glost. I swear, bright saint, I am not what I was! Those eyes have turn'd my stubborn heart to wo
Thy goodness makes me soft in penitence,
And my harsh thoughts are turn'd to peace and love.
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Glost. That it may please thee, leave these sad designs,
To him, that has most cause to be a mourner,
Lady A. I do, my lord, and much it joys me too, To see you are become so penitent. Tressel, and Stanley, go along with me. Glost. Bid me farewell.
Lady A. 'Tis more than you deserve.
Glost. No, to Whitefriars; there attend my coming. [Exeunt GUARDS, with the Body. Was ever woman, in this humour, woo'd? Was ever woman, in this humour, won? I'll have her, but I will not keep her long. What! I, that kill'd her husband, and his father, To take her, in her heart's extremest hate, With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of my hatred by ; Having Heaven, her conscience, and these bars, against me,
And I, no friends to back my suit withal,
The Presence Chamber.
Enter BUCKINGHAM, hastily, meeting LORD
Buck. Did you see the duke?
Buck. His Grace of Gloster; did you see him?
Edward, the king, his royal brother,'s dead! Stanley. 'Tis sad, indeed! I wish by your impatience,
To acquaint him though, you think it so, to him. [Aside.
Did the king, my lord, make any mention
Buck. He did; Duke Richard has the care of both.
Stanley. That sad news you are afraid to tell him [Aside. Buck. He'll spare no toils, I'm sure, to fill his place.
Stanley. 'Pray, Heav'n, he's not too diligent!
My lord, is not that the Duchess of York,
Enter DUCHESS OF YORK.
Duch. of York. Good day, my lords; how takes the king his rest?
Buck. Alas, madam! too well-he sleeps for ever!
Am I still left the last, in life, and woe?
But now, my last support is gone.-First, Clarence,
Duch. of York. "Twere new, indeed! for yet of him,
Unless a churlish disposition may
Be counted from a child a mother's comfort.
Buck. I left her with her kinsmen, deep in sorrow,
Enter QUEEN, RIVERS, and DORSET.
Queen. Why do you thus oppose my grief? unless, To make me rave, and weep, the faster? ha! My mother too, in tears! fresh sorrow strikes My heart, at sight of every friend that lov'd My Edward, living! Oh, mother, he's dead! Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead! Oh, that my eyes could weep away my soul ! Then I might follow, worthy of his hearse.
Stanley. Your duty, madam, of a wife, is dead, And now, the mother's only, claims your care. Think on the prince, your son-send for him, straight, And let his coronation clear your eyes,
Bury your griefs in the dead Edward's grave-
Queen. Alas! that thought, but adds to my afflic-
New tears for Edward, gone, and fears for Edward, living!
An helpless child, in his minority,
Is in the trust of his stern uncle, Gloster-
Buck. Judge not so hardly, madam, of his love: Your son will find in him, a father's care.
Enter GLOSTER, behind.
Glost. Why, ah! these tears look well-Sorrow's the mode,
And every one at court must wear it now :-
But would, on any terms, embrace his friendship. Buck. These words would make him weep-I know him yours.
See, where he comes, in sorrow for our loss. Glost. My lords, good morrow-Cousin of Buckingham,
I am yours.
Buck. Good morning to your grace.
We meet, like men that had forgot to speak.
Glost. It is, indeed! Peace be with him, that made it so!
Sister, take comfort; 'tis true, we've all cause