Struck me, that fought to stay him, over-board,
Into the tumbling billows of the main.

Lord, Lord, methought, what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noife of waters in my ears!
What fights of ugly death within mine eyes!
I thought, I faw a thousand fearful wrecks;
A thousand men, that fishes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Ineftimable stones, unvalued jewels.

Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in those holes,
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept,
As 'twere in fcorn of eyes, reflecting gems;
That woo'd the flimy bottom of the deep,
And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
BRAK. Had you such leisure in the time of death,
To gaze upon the secrets of the deep?

CLA. Methought, I had; and often did I strive
To yield the ghoft; but still the envious flood
Kept in my foul, and would not let it forth
To find the empty, vaft, and wand'ring air,
But fmother'd it within my panting bulk,
Which almost burst to bélch it in the fea.

BRAK. Awak'd you not with this fore agony? CLA. No, no, my dream was length'ned after life; O then began the tempeft to my foul.

I pafs'd, methought, the melancholy flood,

With that grim ferry-man, which poets write of,
Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.

The first that there did greet my stranger foul,
Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick,
Who cry'd aloud- -What fcourge for perjury
Can this dark monarchy afford falfe Clarence?

And so he vanifh'd. Then came wand'ring by
A shadow like an angel, with bright hair
Dabbled in blood, and he fhriek'd out aloud-
Clarence is come, falfe, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence,
That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury;
Seize on him, furies, take him to your torments!-]
With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends
Inviron'd me, and howled in mine ears
Such hideous cries, that with the very noise
I, trembling, wak'd; and for a season after
Could not believe but that I was in hell;
Such terrible impreffion made my dream.
BRAK. No marvel, lord, that it affrighted you;
I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.

CLA. Ah! Brakenbury, I have done those things,
That now give evidence against my foul,

For Edward's fake; and, fee how he requites me!
O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee,
But thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds,
Yet execute thy wrath on me alone:

O, spare my guiltlefs wife, and my poor children!
-I pr'ythee, Brakenbury, ftay by me;

My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.

BRAK. I will, my lord: God give your grace good reft!

Sorrow breaks feasons and repofing hours,

[Clarence feeps.

Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night,
Princes have but their titles for their glories,

An outward honour, for an inward toil;

And, for unfelt imaginations

They often feel a world of restlefs cares :

So that between their titles, and low name,

There's nothing differs but the outward fame.

SCENE VI. Enter the two murderers.

I VIL. Ho, who's there?

BRAK. In God's name, what art thou? How cam't thou hither?

2 VIL. I would fpeak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs.

BRAK. What, fo brief?

1 VIL. 'Tis better, fir, than to be tedious.-Let him fee eur commiffion, and talk no more.

BRAK. [reads.] I am in this commanded, to deliver
The noble duke of Clarence to your hands.

I will not reafon what is meant hereby,
Because I will be guiltlefs of the meaning.
There lies the duke afleep, and there the keys.
I'll to the king, and signify to him,

That thus I have refign'd to you my charge.

I VIL. You may, fir, 'tis a point of wisdom. Fare you well. [Exit Brakenbury. 2 VIL. What fhall we ftab him as he fleeps? I VIL. No; he'll fay 'twas done cowardly when he wakes. 2 VIL. When he wakes? why, fool, he fhall never wake until the great judgment-day.

I VIL. Why, then he'll fay, we ftabb'd him sleeping. 2 VIL. The urging of that word, JUDGMENT, hath bred a kind of remorse in me.

I VIL. What, art thou afraid?

2 VIL. Not to kill him, having a warrant for it:

But to be damn'd for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend me.

a VIL. I'll back to the duke of Glo'fter, and tell him fo.

2 VIL. Nay, pr'ythee, stay a little: I hope, this holy humour of mine will change; it was wont to hold me but while one would tell twenty.

I VIL. How doft thou feel thyself now?

2 VIL. Faith, fome certain dregs of confcience are yet within me.

I VIL. Remember the reward, when the deed's done. 2 VIL. Come, he dies. I had forgot the reward.

I VIL. Where's thy confcience now?

2 VIL. O, in the duke of Glo'ster's purfe.

I VIL. When he opens his purfe to give us our reward, thy confcience flies out.

2 VIL. "Tis no matter, let it go; there's few or none will entertain it.

I VIL. What if it come to thee again?

2 VIL. I'll not meddle with it; it is a dangerous thing, it makes a man a coward; a man cannot steal, but it accufeth him; a man cannot fwear, but it checks him; a man cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it detects him. 'Tis a blushing shame-fac'd spirit, that mutinies in a man's bofom: it fills one full of obstacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold, that by chance I found. It beggars It is turned out of towns and cities any man, that keeps it. for a dangerous thing; and every man, that means to live well, endeavours to trust to himself, and live without it. I VIL. 'Tis even now at my elbow, perfuading me not to kill the duke.

2 VIL. Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him not: he would infinuate with thee but to make thee figh.

I VIL. I am strong fram'd, he cannot prevail with me. 2 VIL. Spoke like a tall fellow that refpects his reputation. Come, fhall we fall to work?

I VIL. Take him over the coftard, with the hilt of thy fword; and then throw him into the malmfie-butt in the

next room.

2 VIL. O excellent device, and make a sop of him.

I VIL. Soft, he wakes. Shall I strike?

2 VIL. No, we'll reason with him.

CLA. Where art thou, keeper? Give me a cup of wine. 2 VIL. You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. CLA. In God's name,, what art thou?

I VIL. A man, as you are.

CLA. But not, as I am, royal.

I VIL. Nor you, as we are, loyal.

CLA. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble.
I VIL. My voice is now the king's, my locks my own,
CLA. How darkly, and how deadly doft thou speak?
Your eyes do menace me. Why look you pale?

Who fent you hither? wherefore do you come?
BOTH. To, to, to-

CLA. To murder me?

Вотн. Ау, ах.

CLA. Ye fcarcely have the hearts to tell me fo,
And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it.
Wherein, my friends, have I offended you?

I VIL. Offended us you have not, but the king.
CLA. I fhall be reconcil'd to him again.

2 VIL. Never, my lord, therefore prepare to die
CLA. Are you call'd forth from out a world of men,

To flay the innocent? what's my offence?

Where is the evidence, that doth accuse me?
What lawful queft have given their verdict up
Unto the frowning judge? Or who pronounc'd
The bitter fentence of poor Clarence' death?