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Heard you not, what an humble suppliant
Glo. Humbly complaining to her deity
Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon me;
Glo. Even so ? an please your worship, Brakenbury, You may partake of any thing we say: We speak no treason, man ;-We say, the king Is wise, and virtuous; and his noble queen Well struck in years ; fair, and not jealous :— We say, that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot, A cherry lip, A bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; And the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks : How say you, sir? can you deny alĩ this?
Brak. I beseech your grace to pardon me; and, Forbear your conference with the noble duke. (withal, Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will
obey. Glo. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey. Brother, farewell: I will unto the king ; And whatsoe'er you will employ me in,Were it, to call king Edward's widow3–sister,– I will perform it to enfranchise you. Mean time, this deep disgrace in brotherhood, Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
1 The queen.
· Meaning Shore. 3 The widow Grey, spoken contemptuously.
Gloster has already called her, the jealous o'er-worn widow.
Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
Glo. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long; I will deliver you, or else lie for you: Mean time, have patience. Clar.
I must perforce; farewell. [Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard. Glo. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return,. Simple, plain Clarence !-I do love thee so, That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, If heaven will take the present at our hands. But who comes here ? the new-deliver'd Hastings ?
Enter Hastings. Hast. Good time of day unto my gracious lord ! Glo. As much unto my good lord chamberlain ! Well are you welcome to this
air. How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment ?
Hast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must : But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks, That were the cause of my imprisonment.
Glo. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; For they, that were your enemies, are his, And have prevail'd as much on him, as you.
Hast. More pity, that the eagle should be mew'd,' While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.
Glo. What news abroad?
Hast. No news so bad abroad, as this at home;The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy, And his physicians fear him mightily.
Glo. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed. 0, he hath kept an evil diet long, And over-much consum'd his royal person ; 'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. What, is he in his bed ? Hast.
ii. e. confined.
He cannot live, I hope; and must not die,
horse to market: Clarence still breathes ; Edward still lives, and reigns ; When they are gone, then must I count my gains.
SCENE II.-The same.
Enter the corpse of King Henry the Sixth, borne in
an open coffin, Gentlemen bearing halberds, to guard it; and Lady AnnE as mourner.
Anne. Set down, set down your honourable load, If honour may be shrouded in a hearse, Whilst I a while obsequiously lament Th' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.Poor key-cold figure of a holy king! Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster ! Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood ! Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost, To hear the lamentations of poor Anne, Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son, Stabb’d by the self-same hand that made these wounds! Lo, in these windows, that let forth thy life, I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes :
0, cursed be the hand that made these holes !
whiles I lament king Henry's corse.
Enter GLOSTER. Glo. Stay you, that bear the corse, and set it down.
Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend, To stop devoted charitable deeds?
Glo. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.
1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.
Glo. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou when I command: Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.
[The Bearers set down the coffin. Anne. What, do you
tremble? are you
all afraid ? Alas, I blame you not ; for you are mortal, And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell ! Thou had’st but power over his mortal body, His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone.
Glo. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.
trouble us not:
Glo. Lady, you know no rules of charity,
man; No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity.
Glo. But I know none, and therefore am no beast. Anne. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!
Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so angry.-
Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'à infection of a man,'