Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead.Why grow the branches, when the root is gone? Why wither not the leaves, that want their sap?If you will live, lament; if die, be brief; That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; Or, like obedient subjects, follow him To his new kingdom of perpetual rest. Duch. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow, As I had title in thy noble husband! I have bewept a worthy husband's death, But now, two mirrors of his princely semblance Q. Eliz. Give me no help in lamentation, I am not barren to bring forth laments: Chil. Ah, for our father, for our dear lord Clarence. 7 his images:] The children by whom he was represented. Q. Eliz. What stay had I, but Edward? and he's gone. Chil. What stay had we, but Clarence? and he's gone. Duch. What stays had I, but they? and they are gone. Q. Eliz. Was never widow, had so dear a loss. Chil. Were never orphans, had so dear a loss. Duch. Was never mother had so dear a loss. Alas! I am the mother of these griefs; Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general. She for an Edward weeps, and so do I; I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I: I for an Edward weep, so do not they:Alas! you three, on me, threefold distress'd, Pour all your tears, I am your sorrow's nurse, And I will pamper it with lamentations. Dor. Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeas'd, That you take with unthankfulness his doing; Riv. Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, Of the young prince your son: send straight for him, Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives: Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. Enter GLOSTER, BUCKINGHAM, Stanley, HastINGS, RATCLIFFE, and Others. Glo. Sister, have comfort: all of us have cause For it requires] i. e. because. To wail the dimming of our shining star; I did not see your grace:-Humbly on my knee Duch. God bless thee; and put meekness in thy Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! Glo. Amen; and make me die a good old man!— That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing; I marvel, that her grace did leave it out. [Aside. Buck. You cloudy princes, and heart-sorrowing peers, That bear this mutual heavy load of moan, The broken rancour of your high swoln hearts, Riv. Why with some little train, my lord of Buck. Marry, my lord, lest, by a multitude, The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out; Which would be so much the more dangerous, By how much the estate is green, and yet ungovern'd: Where every horse bears his commanding rein, And may direct his course, as please himself, As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent, In my opinion, ought to be prevented. Glo. I hope, the king made peace with all of us; And the compact is firm, and true, in me. Riv. 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, Which, haply, by much company might he urg'd: That it is meet so few should fetch the prince. Glo. Then be it so; and go we to determine Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow. Madam, and you my mother, will you go To give your censures in this weighty business? Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOSTER. Buck. My lord, whoever journeys to the prince, For God's sake, let not us two stay at home: For, by the way, I'll sort occasion, As index to the story' we late talk'd of, To part the queen's proud kindred from the prince. Towards Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. A Street. Enter Two Citizens, meeting. 1 Cit. Good morrow, neighbour: Whither away so fast? 2 Cit. I promise you, I scarcely know myself: Hear you the news abroad? 1 Cit. Yes; the king's dead. 2 Cit. Ill news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better: I fear, I fear, 'twill prove a giddy world. your censures-] To censure formerly meant to deliver an opinion. 1 As index to the story-] i. e. preparatory-by way of prelude. VOL. VII. Enter another Citizen. 3 Cit. Neighbours, God speed! 1 Cit. Give you good morrow, sir. 3 Cit. Doth the news hold of good king Edward's death? 2 Cit. Ay, sir, it is too true; God help, the while! 3 Cit. Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. 1 Cit. No, no; by God's good grace, his son shall reign. 3 Cit. Woe to that land, that's govern'd by a child! 2 Cit. In him there is a hope of government; That, in his nonage, council under him, And, in his full and ripen'd years, himself, No doubt, shall then, and till then, govern well. 1 Cit. So stood the state, when Henry the sixth Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. 3 Cit. Stood the state so? no, no, good friends, God wot; For then this land was famously enrich'd 1 Cit. Why, so hath this, both by his father and 3 Cit. Better it were, they all came by his father; Or, by his father, there were none at all: For emulation now, who shall be nearest, Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not. And the queen's sons, and brothers, haught and proud: And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule, 1 Cit. Come, come, we fear the worst; all will be well. |