Canft thou not speak? O traitors, murderers !
They, that ftabb'd Cæfar, shed no blood at all;
Did not offend, and were not worthy blame,
If this foul deed were by, to equal it.
He was a man; this (in respect) a child';
And men ne'er spend their fury on a child.
What's worfe than murderer, that I
may name
No, no, my heart will burst, and if I speak-
And I will speak, that fo my heart may burst.
Butchers and villains, bloody cannibals,
How sweet a plant have you untimely cropt!
You have no children, butchers; if you had,
The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorfe;
But if you ever chance to have a child,
Look in his youth to have him fo cut off;
As, deathfmen! you have rid this sweet young prince.
K. Edw. Away with her, go bear her hence by force.
QUEEN. Nay, never bear me hence, dispatch me here,
Here sheath thy fword, I'll pardon thee my death.
What? wilt thou not? Then, Clarence, do it thou.
CLA. By heav'n, I will not do thee fo much ease.
QUEEN. Good Clarence,do; fweet Clarence, do thou do it.
CLA. Didft thou not hear me fwear I would not do it?
QUEEN. Ay, but thou useft to forfwear thyself.
"Twas fin before, but now 'tis charity.
What, wilt thou not? where is that devil's butcher,
Richard? hard-favour'd Richard, where art thou?
Thou art not here; murder is thy alms-deed,
Petitioner for blood thou ne'er put'st back.
K. EDW. Away, I fay; I charge ye, bear her hence.
QUEEN. So come to you and yours, as to this prince.
[Exit queen,
K. EDW. Where's Richard gone?
CLA. To London all in post; and as I guess,
To make a bloody fupper in the Tower.
K. Edw. He's fudden, if a thing comes in his head.
Now march we hence, discharge the common fort
With pay and thanks, and let's away to London,
And see our gentle queen, how well she fares,
By this I hope, she hath a fon for me.
SCENE VII. Changes to the Tower of London. Enter king Henry with a book, and Gloucester, with the lieutenant on the Tower walls.
GLO. Good day, my lord; what! at your book fo hard? K. HEN. Ay, my good lord; my lord, I should say rather; 'Tis fin to flatter, GOOD was little better;
Good Glo'ster, and good devil, were alike,
And both prepoft'rous, therefore not good lord,
GLO. Sir, leave us to ourselves, we must confer.
[Exit lieutenant.
K. HEN. So flies the reckless fhepherd from the wolf;
So first the harmless flock doth yield his fleece,
And next his throat unto the butcher's knife.
What scene of death hath Rofcius now to act?
GLO. Sufpicion always haunts the guilty mind; The thief doth fear each bufh an officer.
K. HEN. The bird, that hath been limed in a bush, With trembling wings mif-doubteth ev'ry bush;
And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird,
Have now the fatal object in my eye,
Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught, was kill'd. GLO. Why what a peevish fool was that of Crete,
That taught his fon the office of a fowl?
for all his wings, the fool was drown'd.
K. HEN. I, Dædalus; my poor boy, Icarus;
Thy father, Minos that deny'd our course;
The fun, that fear'd the wings of my sweet boy,
Thy brother Edward; and thyfelf, the sea,
Whofe envious gulph did fwallow up his life.
Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words;
My breast can better brook thy dagger's point,
Than can my ears that tragick history.
-But wherefore doft thou come? Is't for
GLO. Think'ft thou I am an executioner ?
K. HEN. A perfecutor, I am fure thou art;
If murd'ring innocents be executing,
Why then thou art an executioner.
GLO. Thy fon I kill'd for his prefumption.
K. HEN. Hadft thou been ki!l'd, when first thou didst
Thou hadft not liv'd to kill a son of mine.
And thus I prophecy, that many a thousand,
Which now miftruft no parcel of my fear,
And many an old man's figh, and many a widow's,
And many an orphan's water-standing eye,
Men for their fons, wives for their husbands fate,
And orphans for their parents' timeless death,
Shall rue the hour that ever thou waft born.
The owl fhriek'd at thy birth, an evil fign,
The night-crow cry'd, a boding lucklefs tune,
Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempest shook down trees,
The raven rook'd her on the chimney's top,
And chattering pyes in difmal difcord fung
Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain,
And yet brought forth lefs than a mother's hope
To wit, an indigested deform'd lump,
Not like the fruit of fuch a goodly tree.
Teeth hadft thou in thy head when thou waft born,
To fignify, thou cam it to bite the world:
And, if the reft be true with I have heard,
Thou cam'ft into the world with thy legs forward.
GLO. I'll hear no more: die, prophet, in thy speech:
For this, amongst the reft, was I ordain'd. [Stabs him.
K. HEN. Ay, and for much more slaughter after this.
O God! forgive my fins, and pardon thee. [Dies.
GLO. What will th' afpiring blood of Lancaster
Sink in the ground? I thought, it would have mounted.
See, how my fword weeps for the poor king's death!
O, may fuch purple tears be always fhed,
From those who with the downfal of our house.
If any spark of life be yet remaining,
Down, down to hell, and fay, I fent thee thither;
[Stabs him again..
I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear
Indeed, 'tis true, that Henry told me of:
For I have often heard my mother fay,
I came into the world with my legs forward.
Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste,
And feek their ruin that ufurp'd our right?
The midwife wonder'd, and the women cry'd,
O, Jefus blefs us, he is born with teeth!
And fo I was; which plainly fignify'd
That I should snarle, and bite, and play the dog.
Then, fince the heav'ns have fhap'd my body fo,
Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it.
I had no father, I am like no father.
I have no brother, I am like no brother;
And this word LOVE, which grey-beards call divine,
Be refident in men like one another,
And not in me: I am myself alone.
Clarence, beware; thou keep'ft me from the light;
But I will fort a pitchy day for thee;
For I will buz abroad fuch prophecies,
That Edward shall be fearful of his life,
And then, to purge his fear, I'll be thy death.
King Henry, and the prince his fon, are gone;
Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the reft;
Counting myfelf but bad, till I be best.
I'll throw thy body in another room;
And triumph, Henry in the day of doom.
SCENE VIII. The Palace in London.
Enter King Edward, Queen, Clarence, Gloucester, Haftings, Nurfe with the young Prince and Attendants.
K. Edw. Once more we fit on England's royal throne, Re-purchas'd with the blood of enemies :
What valiant foe-men, like to autumn's corn,
Have we mow'd down in top of all their pride!
Three dukes of Somerset, three-fold renown'd-
For hardy and undoubted champions;
Two Cliffords, as the father and the fon;
And two Northumberlands; two braver men
Ne'er spurr'd their courfers at the trumpets found.
With them the two brave bears, Warwick and Montague,
That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion,
And made the forest tremble when they roar'd
Thus have we fwept fufpicion from our seat,
And made our footftool of fecurity.
Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy.
Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles and myfelf
Have in our armours watch'd the winter-night;
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