140.-THE DEATH OF CLARENCE. SHAKSPERE. SCENE. A Room in the Tower. Brak. Why looks your grace so heavily to-day? So full of dismal terror was the time. Brak. What was your dream, my lord? I pray you tell me. And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy; And in my company my brother Gloster Who from my cabin tempted me to walk Upon the hatches; there we look'd toward England, Methought that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling, O Lord! methought what pain it was to drown! All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea. Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in those holes Clar. Methought I had; and often did I strive Brak. Awak'd you not in this sore agony? Clar. No, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life; O, then began the tempest to my soul! I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood With that sour ferryman which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul, false, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence,- Clar. O, Brakenbury, I have done these things,— Yet execute thy wrath on me alone : O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children! I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me; My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. Brak. I will, my lord: God give your grace good rest !— Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night. Princes have but their titles for their glories, An outward honour for an inward toil; And, for unfelt imaginations, They often feel a world of restless cares: So that, between their titles, and low name, Enter the two Murderers. 1 Murd. Ho! who's here? [Clarence retires. Brak. What wouldst thou, fellow ? and how cam'st thou hither? 1 Murd. I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. Brak. What, so brief? 2 Murd. 'T is better, sir, than to be tedious :-let him see our commission, and talk no more. [A paper is delivered to Brakenbury, who reads it. Brak. I am in this, commanded to deliver I will not reason what is meant hereby, I'll to the king; and signify to him That thus I have resign'd to you my charge. 1 Murd. You may, sir; 't is a point of wisdom : 1 Murd. No, we 'll reason with him. [Exit Brakenbury. Clar. Where art thou, keeper i give me a cup of wine. 1 Murd. You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. Clar. In God's name, what art thou? 1 Murd. A man, as you are. Clar. But not, as I am, royal. 1 Murd. Nor you, as we are, loyal. Clar. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. 1 Murd. 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 2 Murd. To, to, to Clar. To murther me? Both Murd. Ay, ay. 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 Murd. Offended us you have not, but the king. 2 Murd. Never, my lord; therefore, prepare to die. 1 Murd. What we will do we do upon command. Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hand, To hurl upon their heads that break his law. 2 Murd. And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee, For false forswearing, and for murther too: Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight In quarrel of the house of Lancaster. 1 Murd. And, like a traitor to the name of God, Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade 2 Murd. Whom thou was sworn to cherish and defend. 1 Murd. 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? For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: He sends you not to murther me for this; For in that sin he is as deep as I. If God will be avenged for the deed, O, know you, yet he doth it publicly ; To cut off those that have offended him. 1 Murd. Who made thee then a bloody minister, When gallant-springing, brave Plantagenet, That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? Clar. My brother's love, the devil, and my rage, 1 Murd. Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy faults, 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, 2 Murd. You are deceiv'd, your brother Gloster hates you. Clar. Tell him, when that our princely father York Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm, And charg'd us from his soul to love each other, He little thought of this divided friendship: Bid Gloster think on this, and he will weep. 1 Murd. Ay, mill-stones; as he lesson'd us to weep. Clar. O, do not slander him, for he is kind. 1 Murd. Right, as snow in harvest.-Come, you deceive yourself "T is he that sends us to destroy you here. Clar. It cannot be, for he bewept my fortune. And hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs, That he would labour my delivery. 1 Murd. Why, so he doth, when he delivers you From this earth's thraldom to the joys of heaven. 2 Murd. Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. Clar. Have you that holy feeling in your souls, To counsel me to make my peace with God, Oh, sirs, consider, they that set you on Clar. Relent, and save your souls. 1 Murd. Relent! No. "T is cowardly and womanish. O, if thine eye be not a flatterer, Come thou on my side, and entreat for me: If two such murtherers as yourselves came to you, Were you in my distress? 2 Murd. Look behind you, my lord. 1 Murd. Take that, and that; if all this will not do, I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within. [Stabs him. [Exit, with the body. 2 Murd. A bloody deed, and desperately despatch'd! 141. THE DEATH OF LORD HASTINGS. SIR THOMAS MORE. The lord protector caused a council to be set at the Tower on the Friday the thirteenth day of June, where was much communing for the honourable solemnity of the coronation, of the which the time appointed approached so near that the pageants were a making day and night at Westminster, and victual killed which afterward was cast away. These lords thus sitting communing of this matter, the protector came in among them about nine of the clock, saluting them courteously, excusing himself that he had been from them so long, saying merely that he had been a sleeper that day; and after a little talking with them he said to the Bishop of Ely, My lord, you have very good strawberries in your garden at Holborn, I require you let us have a mess of them. Gladly, my lord, (qd he,) I would I had some better thing as ready to your pleasure as that: and with that in all haste he sent his servant for a dish of strawberries. The protector set the lords fast in communing, and thereupon prayed them to spare him a little, and so he departed, and came again between ten and eleven of the clock into the chamber all changed, with a sour angry countenance, knitting the brows, frowning, and fretting, and gnawing on his lips, and so set him down in his place. All the lords were dismayed, and sore marvelled of this manner and sudden change, and what thing should him ail. When he had sitten a while, thus he began : What were they worthy to have that compass and imagine the destruction of me, being so near of blood to the king, and protector of this his royal realm ? At which question all the lords sat sore astonished, using much by whom the question should be meant, of which every man knew himself clear. Then the Lord Hastings, as he that for the familiarity that was between them thought he might be boldest with him, answered and said, That they were worthy to be punished as heinous traitors, whatsoever they were: and all the other affirmed |