Thou elvish mark'd, abortive, rooting hog! 2. Mar. Richard.. Glo. Ha? 2. Mar. I call thee not. Glo. I cry thee mercy then; for I did think That thou hadft call'd me all thefe bitter names, 2 Mar. Why, fo I did; but look'd for no reply. Oh, let me make the period to my curfe. Glo. 'Tis done by me, and ends in Margaret. Queen. Thus have you breath'd your curie against yourself. 2. Mar. Poor painted Queen, vain flourish of my fortune! Why ftrew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider. Fool, fool, thou whett'ft a knife to kill thyfelf: 2. Mar. Foul thame upon you! you have all mov'd mine. Riv. Were you well ferv'd, you would be taught your duty. 2. Mar. To ferve me well, you all fhould do me duty, Teach me to be your Queen, and you my subjects: 2. Mar. Peace Mafter Marquis, you are malapert; Your fire-new ftamp of honour is fcarce current. O that your young Nobility could judge What 'twere to lofe it, and be miferable! They that stand high, have many blasts to shake them; And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. Glo. Good counfel, marry, learn it, learn it, Marquis Dorf. It touches you, my Lord, as much as me. Glo. Ay, and much more; but I was born so high, "Our ai'ry buildeth in the cedar's top, "And dallies with the wind, and fcorns the fun." 2. Mar. And turns the fun to fhade; -alas! alas !! Your ai'ry buildeth in our ai'ry's neft: Buck. Peace, peace for fhame, if not for charity. 2. Mar. Urge neither charity nor fhame to me;. Uncharitably with me have you, dealt, And fhamefully my hopes by you are butcher'd. rage! 2. Mar. O princely Buckingham, I'll kifs thy hand,. In fign of league and amity with thee: Thy garments are not fpotted with our blood; Buck. Nor no one here; for curfes never pass Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites, Have not to do with him, beware of him; Sin, death, and hell, have fet their marks upon him, And all their minifters attend on him. Glo. What doth fhe fay, my Lord of Buckingham ? When he fhall iplit thy very heart with forrow, Live each of you the fubject to his hate, And he to your's, and all of you to God's ! [Exit. Buck. My hair doth ftand on end to hear her curfes Riv. And fo doth mine: I wonder fhe'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. Dorf. I never did her any to my knowledge. Rev. A virtuous and a Chriftian-like conclufion, [Afide. Catef. Madam, his Majesty doth call for you, And for your Grace, and you, my Noble Lord. Queen. Catesby, we come ; Lords, will you go with us? Riv. Madam, we will attend your Grace. [Exeunt all but Gloucester; Namely, to Stanley, Haftings, Buckingham; With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ, Enter two Villains. But foft, here come my executioners. How now, my handy, ftout, resolved mates, Are you now going to dispatch this deed? i Vil. We are, my Lord, and come to have the warThat we may be admitted where he is. [rant, Glo. Well thought upon, I have it here about ine: When you have done, repair to Crosby-place. But, Sirs, be fudden in the execution, Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead; For Clarence is well-fpoken, and perhaps. May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him. 2 Vil. Fear not, my Lord, we will not and to prate ; Talkers are no good doers; be affur'd, We go to use our hands, and not our tongues. Glo. Your eyes drop milftones, when fools' eyes drop, tears. I like you, lads; about your bufinefs; go. [Exeunt. SCENE V. Changes to the Tower. Enter Clarence and Brakenbury. Brak. Why looks your Grace fo heavily to-day? Brak. What was your dream, my Lord? I pray you tell me. Clar. Methought that I had broken from the Tower And was imbark'd to crofs to Burgundy, And in my company my brother Glofter; Upon the hatches. Thence we look'd tow'rd England, During the Wars of York and Lancaster, That had befall'n us. As we pafs'd along Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, Methought that Glo'fter ftumbled, and in falling 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! Some lay in dead mens' fculls; and in thofe holes Cla. Methought I had; and often did I strive Brak. Awak'd you not with this fore agony? I pafs'd, methought, the melancholy flood, The first that there did greet my stranger-foul, Woo'd, for ogled. |