Belike, his majesty hath some intent,

That you should be new chriftened in the Tower.
But what's the matter, Clarence, may I know?
CLA. Yea, Richard, when I know; for, I proteft,
As yet I do not; but as I can learn,

He hearkens after prophefies and dreams,
And from the cross-row plucks the letter G ;
And says, a wizard told him, that by G
His iffue difinherited fhould be.

And, for my name of George begins with G,
It follows in his thought, that I am he.
These, as I learn, and such like toys as these,
Have mov'd his highness to commit me now.

GLO, Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by women, 'Tis not the king that fends you to the Tower, My lady Gray, his wife, Clarence, 'tis fhe

That tempts him to this harsh extremity.

Was it not she, and that good man of worship,
Anthony Woodvil her brother there,

That made him fend lord Haftings to the Tower?
From whence this day he is delivered.
We are not fafe, Clarence, we are not fafe.

CLA. By heav'n, I think, there is no man fecure
But the queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds,
That trudge between the king, and mistress Shore.
Heard you not, what an humble fuppliant
Lord Haftings was to her for his delivery?
GLO. Humbly complaining to her deity,
Got my lord Chamberlain his liberty.
I'll tell you what ;-I think, it is our way,
If we will keep in favour with the king,
To be her men, and wear her livery:

The jealous, o'erworn widow, and herself,

Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen,'
Are mighty goffips in this monarchy.

BRAK. I beg your graces both to pardon me:
His majesty has straitly giv'n in charge,

That no man fhall have private conference,
Of what degree foever, with your brother.

GLO. Ev'n fo, an't pleafe your worship. Brackenbury, You may partake of any thing we say,

We speak no treason, man――we say, the king.
Is wife and virtuous; and his noble queen
Well ftrook in years; fair, and not jealous-
We fay, that Shroe's wife hath a pretty foot,;
A cherry lip, a paffing pleafing tongue;
That the queen's kindred are made gentle-folk.
How fay you, fir? Can you deny all this?

BRAK. With this, my lord, myself have nought to do. GLO. What, fellow ? nought to do with mistress Shore? I tell you. fir, he that doth naught with her,

Excepting one, were best to do it fecretly.
BRAK. What one, my lord?

GLO. Her husband, knave-wouldst thou betray me?
BRAK. I do beseech your grace to pardon me,
And to forbear your conf'rence with the duke.

CLA. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.
GLO. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey.

Brother, farewel: I will unto the king,
And whatfoe'er you will employ me in,
Were it to call king Edward's widow fifter,
I will perform it to infranchife you.
Mean time this deep difgrace of brotherhood
Touches me deeper than you can imagine.

CLA. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.

GLO. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long,

I will deliver you, or else lye for you :

Mean time, have patience.

CLA. I must perforce; farewel.

[Exe. Brack. Clar.

GLO. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return :

Simple, plain Clarence!-I do love thee fo,

That I will shortly fend thy foul to heav'n,

If heav'n will take the prefent at our hands.

-But who cons here? the new-deliver'd Haftings?

Enter Lord Haftings.

HAST. Good time of day unto my gracious lord.
GLO. As much unto my good lord Chamberlain :
Well
are you welcome to the open air.

How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?

HAST. With patience, noble lord, as pris'ners must : But I fhall live, my lord, to give them thanks,

That were the cause of my imprisonment.

GLO. No doubt, no doubt; and fo fhall 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 fhould be mew'd, While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.

GLO. What news abroad?

HAST. No news fo bad abroad, as this at home;

The king is fickly, weak and melancholy,

And his phyficians fear him mightily.

GLO. Now, by St. Paul, that news is bad, indeed,

O, he hath kept an evil diet long,

And over-much confum'd his royal perfon :

'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.

Where is he, in his bed?

HAST. He is.

GLO. Go you before, and I will follow you.

[Exit Haftings.

He cannot live, I hope; and muft not die,
'Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heav'n

I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,

With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments;
And if I fail not in my deep intent,

Clarence hath not another day to live:

Which done, God take king Edward to his mercy;
And leave the world for me to buftle in!

For then, I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter;
What though I kill'd her husband, and her father?
The readiest way to make the wench amends,
Ís to become her husband and her father:
The which will I, not all fo much for love,
As for another fecret close intent;

By marrying her, which I must reach unto.
-But yet I run before my horse to market :

Clarence ftill breathes, Edward still lives and reigns;
When they are gone, then must I count my gains. [Exit.

SCENE II. Changes to a Street.

Enter the coarfe of Henry the fixth, with halberts to guard it, Lady Anne being the mourner.

ANNE. Set down, fet down your honourable load,
If honour may be shrouded in a herse ;
Whilft I awhile obfequiously lament
Th' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
-Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!
Pale athes of the house of Lancaster !

Thou bloodlefs remnant of that royal blood!
Be't lawful, that I invocate thy ghost,

To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,
Wife to thy Edward, to thy flaughter'd fon;

Stabb'd by the felf-fame hand that made these wounds.
Lo, in these windows, that let forth thy life,

I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.
Curs'd be the hand that made these fatal holes!
Curs'd be the heart, that had the heart to do it!
More direful hap betide that hated wretch,
That makes us wretched by the death of thee,
Than I can wish to adders, fpiders, toads,
Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!
If ever he have child, abortive be it,
Prodigious and untimely brought to light,
Whose ugly and unnatural aspect

May fright the hopeful mother at the view,
And that be heir to his unhappiness !
If ever he have wife, let her be made
More miferable by the death of him,

Than I am made by my young lord and thee!
-Come, now tow'rds Chertsey with your holy load,
Taken from Paul's to be interred there.

And still, as you are weary of this weight,

Reft you, while I lament king Henry's coarse.

Enter Richard Duke of Gloucester.

GLO. Stay you, that bear the coarfe, and set it down. ANNE. What black magician conjures up this fiend, To ftop devoted charitable deeds?

GLO. Villains, fet down the ccarfe; or, by St. Paul, I'll make a coarfe of him that difebeys.