Complete Plays, The

by William Shakespeare

  First Murderer

  How dost thou feel thyself now?

  Second Murderer

  ’Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me.

  First Murderer

  Remember our reward, when the deed is done.

  Second Murderer

  ’Zounds, he dies: I had forgot the reward.

  First Murderer

  Where is thy conscience now?

  Second Murderer

  In the Duke of Gloucester’s purse.

  First Murderer

  So when he opens his purse to give us our reward, thy conscience flies out.

  Second Murderer

  Let it go; there’s few or none will entertain it.

  First Murderer

  How if it come to thee again?

  Second Murderer

  I’ll not meddle with it: it is a dangerous thing: it makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him; he cannot swear, but it cheques him; he cannot lie with his neighbour’s wife, but it detects him: ’tis a blushing shamefast spirit that mutinies in a man’s bosom; it fills one full of obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold that I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it is turned out of all towns and cities for a dangerous thing; and every man that means to live well endeavours to trust to himself and to live without it.

  First Murderer

  ’Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me not to kill the duke.

  Second Murderer

  Take the devil in thy mind, and relieve him not: he would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh.

  First Murderer

  Tut, I am strong-framed, he cannot prevail with me,

  I warrant thee.

  Second Murderer

  Spoke like a tail fellow that respects his reputation. Come, shall we to this gear?

  First Murderer

  Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy sword, and then we will chop him in the malmsey-butt in the next room.

  Second Murderer

  O excellent devise! make a sop of him.

  First Murderer

  Hark! he stirs: shall I strike?

  Second Murderer

  No, first let’s reason with him.

  Clarence

  Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine.

  Second murderer

  You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon.

  Clarence

  In God’s name, what art thou?

  Second Murderer

  A man, as you are.

  Clarence

  But not, as I am, royal.

  Second Murderer

  Nor you, as we are, loyal.

  Clarence

  Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble.

  Second Murderer

  My voice is now the king’s, my looks mine own.

  Clarence

  How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak!

  Your eyes do menace me: why look you pale?

  Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come?

  Both

  To, to, to —

  Clarence

  To murder me?

  Both

  Ay, ay.

  Clarence

  You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so,

  And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it.

  Wherein, my friends, have I offended you?

  First Murderer

  Offended us you have not, but the king.

  Clarence

  I shall be reconciled to him again.

  Second Murderer

  Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die.

  Clarence

  Are you call’d forth from out a world of men

  To slay the innocent? What is my offence?

  Where are the evidence that do accuse me?

  What lawful quest have given their verdict up

  Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounced

  The bitter sentence of poor Clarence’ death?

  Before I be convict by course of law,

  To threaten me with death is most unlawful.

  I charge you, as you hope to have redemption

  By Christ’s dear blood shed for our grievous sins,

  That you depart and lay no hands on me

  The deed you undertake is damnable.

  First Murderer

  What we will do, we do upon command.

  Second Murderer

  And he that hath commanded is the king.

  Clarence

  Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings

  Hath in the tables of his law commanded

  That thou shalt do no murder: and wilt thou, then,

  Spurn at his edict and fulfil a man’s?

  Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hands,

  To hurl upon their heads that break his law.

  Second Murderer

  And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee,

  For false forswearing and for murder too:

  Thou didst receive the holy sacrament,

  To fight in quarrel of the house of Lancaster.

  First Murderer

  And, like a traitor to the name of God,

  Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade

  Unrip’dst the bowels of thy sovereign’s son.

  Second Murderer

  Whom thou wert sworn to cherish and defend.

  First Murderer

  How canst thou urge God’s dreadful law to us,

  When thou hast broke it in so dear degree?

  Clarence

  Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed?

  For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: Why, sirs,

  He sends ye not to murder me for this

  For in this sin he is as deep as I.

  If God will be revenged for this deed.

  O, know you yet, he doth it publicly,

  Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm;

  He needs no indirect nor lawless course

  To cut off those that have offended him.

  First Murderer

  Who made thee, then, a bloody minister,

  When gallant-springing brave Plantagenet,

  That princely novice, was struck dead by thee?

  Clarence

  My brother’s love, the devil, and my rage.

  First Murderer

  Thy brother’s love, our duty, and thy fault,

  Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee.

  Clarence

  Oh, if you love my brother, hate not me;

  I am his brother, and I love him well.

  If you be hired for meed, go back again,

  And I will send you to my brother Gloucester,

  Who shall reward you better for my life

  Than Edward will for tidings of my death.

  Second Murderer

  You are deceived, your brother Gloucester hates you.

  Clarence

  O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear:

  Go you to him from me.

  Both

  Ay, so we will.

  Clarence

  Tell him, when that our princely father York

  Bless’d his three sons with his victorious arm,

  And charged us from his soul to love each other,

  He little thought of this divided friendship:

  Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep.

  First Murderer

  Ay, millstones; as be lesson’d us to weep.

  Clarence

  O, do not slander him, for he is kind.

  First Murderer

  Right,

  As snow in harvest. Thou deceivest thyself:

  ’Tis he that sent us hither now to slaughter thee.

  Clarence

  It cannot be; for when I parted with him,

  He hugg’d me in his arms, and swore, with sobs,

  That he would labour my delivery.

  Second Murderer

  Why, so he doth, now he delivers theer />
  From this world’s thraldom to the joys of heaven.

  First Murderer

  Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord.

  Clarence

  Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul,

  To counsel me to make my peace with God,

  And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind,

  That thou wilt war with God by murdering me?

  Ah, sirs, consider, he that set you on

  To do this deed will hate you for the deed.

  Second Murderer

  What shall we do?

  Clarence

  Relent, and save your souls.

  First Murderer

  Relent! ’tis cowardly and womanish.

  Clarence

  Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish.

  Which of you, if you were a prince’s son,

  Being pent from liberty, as I am now,

  If two such murderers as yourselves came to you,

  Would not entreat for life?

  My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks:

  O, if thine eye be not a flatterer,

  Come thou on my side, and entreat for me,

  As you would beg, were you in my distress

  A begging prince what beggar pities not?

  Second Murderer

  Look behind you, my lord.

  First Murderer

  Take that, and that: if all this will not do,

  Stabs him

  I’ll drown you in the malmsey-butt within.

  Exit, with the body

  Second Murderer

  A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch’d!

  How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands

  Of this most grievous guilty murder done!

  Re-enter First Murderer

  First Murderer

  How now! what mean’st thou, that thou help’st me not?

  By heavens, the duke shall know how slack thou art!

  Second Murderer

  I would he knew that I had saved his brother!

  Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say;

  For I repent me that the duke is slain.

  Exit

  First Murderer

  So do not I: go, coward as thou art.

  Now must I hide his body in some hole,

  Until the duke take order for his burial:

  And when I have my meed, I must away;

  For this will out, and here I must not stay.

  ACT II

  SCENE I. LONDON. THE PALACE.

  Flourish. Enter King Edward IV sick, Queen Elizabeth, Dorset, Rivers, Hastings, Buckingham, Grey, and others

  King Edward IV

  Why, so: now have I done a good day’s work:

  You peers, continue this united league:

  I every day expect an embassage

  From my Redeemer to redeem me hence;

  And now in peace my soul shall part to heaven,

  Since I have set my friends at peace on earth.

  Rivers and Hastings, take each other’s hand;

  Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love.

  Rivers

  By heaven, my heart is purged from grudging hate:

  And with my hand I seal my true heart’s love.

  Hastings

  So thrive I, as I truly swear the like!

  King Edward IV

  Take heed you dally not before your king;

  Lest he that is the supreme King of kings

  Confound your hidden falsehood, and award

  Either of you to be the other’s end.

  Hastings

  So prosper I, as I swear perfect love!

  Rivers

  And I, as I love Hastings with my heart!

  King Edward IV

  Madam, yourself are not exempt in this,

  Nor your son Dorset, Buckingham, nor you;

  You have been factious one against the other,

  Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand;

  And what you do, do it unfeignedly.

  Queen Elizabeth

  Here, Hastings; I will never more remember

  Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine!

  King Edward IV

  Dorset, embrace him; Hastings, love lord marquess.

  Dorset

  This interchange of love, I here protest,

  Upon my part shall be unviolable.

  Hastings

  And so swear I, my lord

  They embrace

  King Edward IV

  Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league

  With thy embracements to my wife’s allies,

  And make me happy in your unity.

  Buckingham

  Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate

  On you or yours,

  To the Queen

  but with all duteous love

  Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me

  With hate in those where I expect most love!

  When I have most need to employ a friend,

  And most assured that he is a friend

  Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile,

  Be he unto me! this do I beg of God,

  When I am cold in zeal to yours.

  King Edward IV

  A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham,

  Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart.

  There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here,

  To make the perfect period of this peace.

  Buckingham

  And, in good time, here comes the noble duke.

  Enter Gloucester

  Gloucester

  Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen:

  And, princely peers, a happy time of day!

  King Edward IV

  Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day.

  Brother, we done deeds of charity;

  Made peace enmity, fair love of hate,

  Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.

  Gloucester

  A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege:

  Amongst this princely heap, if any here,

  By false intelligence, or wrong surmise,

  Hold me a foe;

  If I unwittingly, or in my rage,

  Have aught committed that is hardly borne

  By any in this presence, I desire

  To reconcile me to his friendly peace:

  ’Tis death to me to be at enmity;

  I hate it, and desire all good men’s love.

  First, madam, I entreat true peace of you,

  Which I will purchase with my duteous service;

  Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham,

  If ever any grudge were lodged between us;

  Of you, Lord Rivers, and, Lord Grey, of you;

  That without desert have frown’d on me;

  Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all.

  I do not know that Englishman alive

  With whom my soul is any jot at odds

  More than the infant that is born to-night

  I thank my God for my humility.

  Queen Elizabeth

  A holy day shall this be kept hereafter:

  I would to God all strifes were well compounded.

  My sovereign liege, I do beseech your majesty

  To take our brother Clarence to your grace.

  Gloucester

  Why, madam, have I offer’d love for this

  To be so bouted in this royal presence?

  Who knows not that the noble duke is dead?

  They all start

  You do him injury to scorn his corse.

  Rivers

  Who knows not he is dead! who knows he is?

  Queen Elizabeth

  All seeing heaven, what a world is this!

  Buckingham

  Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest?

  Dorset

  Ay, my good lord; and no one in this presence

  But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks.

  King Edw
ard IV

  Is Clarence dead? the order was reversed.

  Gloucester

  But he, poor soul, by your first order died,

  And that a winged Mercury did bear:

  Some tardy cripple bore the countermand,

  That came too lag to see him buried.

  God grant that some, less noble and less loyal,

  Nearer in bloody thoughts, but not in blood,

  Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did,

  And yet go current from suspicion!

  Enter Derby

  Dorset

  A boon, my sovereign, for my service done!

  King Edward IV

  I pray thee, peace: my soul is full of sorrow.

  Dorset

  I will not rise, unless your highness grant.

  King Edward IV

  Then speak at once what is it thou demand’st.

  Dorset

  The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant’s life;

  Who slew to-day a righteous gentleman

  Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk.

  King Edward IV

  Have a tongue to doom my brother’s death,

  And shall the same give pardon to a slave?

  My brother slew no man; his fault was thought,

  And yet his punishment was cruel death.

  Who sued to me for him? who, in my rage,

  Kneel’d at my feet, and bade me be advised

  Who spake of brotherhood? who spake of love?

  Who told me how the poor soul did forsake

  The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me?

  Who told me, in the field by Tewksbury

  When Oxford had me down, he rescued me,

  And said, ‘Dear brother, live, and be a king’?

  Who told me, when we both lay in the field

  Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me

  Even in his own garments, and gave himself,

  All thin and naked, to the numb cold night?

  All this from my remembrance brutish wrath

  Sinfully pluck’d, and not a man of you

  Had so much grace to put it in my mind.

  But when your carters or your waiting-vassals

  Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced

  The precious image of our dear Redeemer,

  You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon;

  And I unjustly too, must grant it you

  But for my brother not a man would speak,

  Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself

  For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all

  Have been beholding to him in his life;

  Yet none of you would once plead for his life.

  O God, I fear thy justice will take hold

  On me, and you, and mine, and yours for this!

  Come, Hastings, help me to my closet.

  Oh, poor Clarence!

  Exeunt some with King Edward IV and Queen Margaret

  Gloucester

  This is the fruit of rashness! Mark’d you not

  How that the guilty kindred of the queen