Hast. False-boding woman, end thy frantick curse; Lest, to thy harm, thou move our patience.

Q. Mar. Foul shame upon you, you have all mov'd mine.

Riv. Were you well serv'd, you would be taught your duty.

Q. Mar. To serve me well, you all should do me duty,

Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects: O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty. Dor. Dispute not with her, she is lunatick.

Q. Mar. Peace, master marquis, you are malapert: Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current: O, that your young nobility could judge,

What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable!

They that stand high, have many blasts to shake them; And, if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. Glo. Good counsel, marry; learn it, learn it, marquis.

Dor. It touches you, my lord, as much as me. Glo. Ay, and much more: But I was born so high, Our aiery buildeth in the cedar's top,

And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun.

Q. Mar. And turns the sun to shade;-alas !

alas!

Witness my son, now in the shade of death:5
Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath
Hath in eternal darkness folded up.

Your aiery buildeth in our aiery's nest :-
O God, that see'st it, do not suffer it;
As it was won with blood, lost be it so!

5 Witness my son, &c.] Her distress cannot prevent her quibbling. It may be here remarked, that the introduction of Margaret in this place is against all historical evidence. She was ransomed and sent to France soon after Tewksbury fight, and there passed the remainder of her wretched life.

"Your aiery buildeth in our aiery's nest :] An aiery is a hawk's or an eagle's nest.

Buck. Peace, peace, for shame, if not for charity. Q. Mar. Urge neither charity nor shame to me; Uncharitably with me have you dealt,

And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd.
My charity is outrage, life my shame,-
And in my shame still live my sorrow's rage!
Buck. Have done, have done.

Q. Mar. O princely Buckingham, I kiss thy hand,
In sign of league and amity with thee:
Now fair befal thee, and thy noble house!
Thy garments are not spotted with our blood,
Nor thou within the compass of my curse.

Buck. Nor no one here; for curses never pass The lips of those that breathe them in the air. Q. Mar. I'll not believe but they ascend the sky, And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. O Buckingham, beware of yonder dog;

Look, when he fawns, he bites; and, when he bites, His venom tooth will rankle to the death:

Have not to do with him, beware of him;

Sin, death, and hell, have set their marks on him; And all their ministers attend on him.

Glo. What doth she say, my lord of Buckingham? Buck. Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. Q. Mar. What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel ?

And sooth the devil that I warn thee from?

O, but remember this another day,

When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow;
And say, poor Margaret was a prophetess.
Live each of you the subjects to his hate,
And he to yours, and all of you to God's!

[Exit.

Hast. My hair doth stand on end to hear her

curses.

Riv. And so doth mine; I muse, why she's at

liberty.

Glo. I cannot blame her, by God's holy mother;

She hath had too much wrong, and I repent
My part thereof, that I have done to her.

Q. Eliz. I never did her any, to my knowledge. Glo. Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong. I was too hot to do some body good,

That is too cold in thinking of it now.
Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid;
He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains;'-
God pardon them that are the cause thereof!

8

Riv. A virtuous and a christian-like conclusion, To pray for them that have done scath to us. Glo. So do I ever, being well advis'd;For had I curs'd now, I had curs'd myself. [Aside.

Enter CATESBY.

Cates. Madam, his majesty doth call for you,And for your grace, and you, my noble lords. Q. Eliz. Catesby, I come:-Lords, will you go with me?

Riv. Madam, we will attend upon your grace. [Exeunt all but GLOSTER.

Glo. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl.
The secret mischiefs that I set abroach,

I lay unto the grievous charge of others.
Clarence,-whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness,—
I do beweep to many simple gulls;

Namely, to Stanley, Hastings, Buckingham;
And tell them-'tis the queen and her allies,
That stir the king against the duke my brother.
Now they believe it; and withal whet me
To be reveng'd on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey:
But then I sigh, and, with a piece of scripture,

"He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains;] A frank is an old English word for a hog-sty, or pen. 'Tis possible he uses this metaphor to Clarence, in allusion to the crest of the family of York, which was a boar.

8

done scath to us.] Scath is harm, mischief.

Tell them-that God bids us do good for evil:
And thus I clothe my naked villainy

With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ;
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.

Enter Two Murderers.

But soft, here come my executioners.—
How now, my hardy, stout resolved mates?
Are you now going to despatch this thing?

1 Murd. We are, my lord; and come to have the warrant,

That we may be admitted where he is.

me:

Glo. Well thought upon, I have it here about [Gives the Warrant. When you have done, repair to Crosby-place. But, sirs, be sudden in the execution, Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead; For Clarence is well spoken, and, perhaps, May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him. 1 Murd. Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand to prate,

Talkers are no good doers; be assur'd,
We go to use our hands, and not our tongues.
Glo. Your eyes drop mill-stones, when fools' eyes
drop tears:

I like you, lads;—about your business straight;
Go, go, despatch.

1 Murd.

We will, my noble lord.

[Exeunt.

9 Your eyes drop mill-stones, when fools' eyes drop tears:] This,

I believe, is a proverbial expression. STEEVENS.

The same.

SCENE IV.

A Room in the Tower.

Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY.

Brak. Why looks your grace so heavily to-day? Clar. O, I have pass'd a miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a christian faithful man,' I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days; So full of dismal terror was the time.

Brak. What was your dream, my lord? I pray you, tell me.

Clar. Methought, that I had broken from the Tower,

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; thence we look'd toward England,

And cited up a thousand heavy times,
During the wars of York and Lancaster
That had befall'n us. As we pac'd along
Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
Methought, that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling,
Struck me, that thought to stay him, over-board,
Into the tumbling billows of the main.

O Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of water in mine ears!
What sights of ugly death within mine eyes!
Methought, I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
A thousand men, that fishes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,

-faithful man,] Not an infidel.