Yet none of you would once plead for his life. O God! I fear thy justice will take hold

On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this. Come, Hastings, help me to my closet-Ah! Poor Clarence!

THE STORY OF RICHARD III, 1483-1485.

We have been noting the steps by which Gloster waded through slaughter toward the throne, and have learned that if his soul contained any quality of mercy the gates were shut upon it from all mankind.

Not long after the family scene at which we were recently lookers on, Queen Elizabeth announced to the Duchess of York that Edward, her son, the king, was dead. They wailed their common grief, and in the general chorus of pathos the children of Clarence joined. The queen's brother, taking counsel of his fears, advised that Edward, the young prince and heir, be sent for straightway and crowned:

In him your comfort lives; Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, And plant your joys in living Edward's throne.

Upon this sad company came Gloster with his sardonic note of consolation; also some of his friends, chief among them Buckingham, who had not taken Margaret's warning:

Glos. Sister, have comfort: all of us have cause
To wail the dimming of our shining star;
But none can cure their harms by wailing them.

Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy:

I did not see your Grace:-Humbly on my knee
I crave your blessing.

Duch. God bless thee; and put meekness in thy
breast.

Glos. Amen;-[Aside] and make me die a good old man!

That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing.

Buck. Though we have spent our harvest of this
King,

We are to reap the harvest of his son.

Me seemeth good, that, with some little train,
Forthwith from Ludlow the young Prince be fet
Hither to London, to be crowned our King.
Rivers. Why with some little train?

Buck. Marry, my lord, lest by a multitude,
The new-healed wound of malice should break out.
Glos. I hope the King made peace with all of us;

And the compact is firm and true in me.

Hast. And so in me; and so, I think, in all:
Yet, since it is but green, it should be put
To no apparent likelihood of breach.

Glos. Then be it so; and go we to determine
Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow.

They all withdrew except Gloster and Buckingham, who lingered to have an understanding that whoever went for the little king they two should not stay at home.

In a London street we see the meeting of three citizens, and, from their talk, learn something of the popular sentiment. One quotes the Scripture foretelling woe to that land whose king is a child. In reply to