Complete Plays, The

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Complete Plays, The Page 241

by William Shakespeare


  Look’d pale when they did hear of Clarence’ death?

  O, they did urge it still unto the king!

  God will revenge it. But come, let us in,

  To comfort Edward with our company.

  Buckingham

  We wait upon your grace.

  Exeunt

  SCENE II. THE PALACE.

  Enter the Duchess Of York, with the two children of Clarence

  Boy

  Tell me, good grandam, is our father dead?

  Duchess Of York

  No, boy.

  Boy

  Why do you wring your hands, and beat your breast,

  And cry ‘O Clarence, my unhappy son!’

  Girl

  Why do you look on us, and shake your head,

  And call us wretches, orphans, castaways

  If that our noble father be alive?

  Duchess Of York

  My pretty cousins, you mistake me much;

  I do lament the sickness of the king.

  As loath to lose him, not your father’s death;

  It were lost sorrow to wail one that’s lost.

  Boy

  Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead.

  The king my uncle is to blame for this:

  God will revenge it; whom I will importune

  With daily prayers all to that effect.

  Girl

  And so will I.

  Duchess Of York

  Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well:

  Incapable and shallow innocents,

  You cannot guess who caused your father’s death.

  Boy

  Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester

  Told me, the king, provoked by the queen,

  Devised impeachments to imprison him :

  And when my uncle told me so, he wept,

  And hugg’d me in his arm, and kindly kiss’d my cheek;

  Bade me rely on him as on my father,

  And he would love me dearly as his child.

  Duchess Of York

  Oh, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes,

  And with a virtuous vizard hide foul guile!

  He is my son; yea, and therein my shame;

  Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit.

  Boy

  Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam?

  Duchess Of York

  Ay, boy.

  Boy

  I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this?

  Enter Queen Elizabeth, with her hair about her ears; Rivers, and Dorset after her

  Queen Elizabeth

  Oh, who shall hinder me to wail and weep,

  To chide my fortune, and torment myself?

  I’ll join with black despair against my soul,

  And to myself become an enemy.

  Duchess Of York

  What means this scene of rude impatience?

  Queen Elizabeth

  To make an act of tragic violence:

  Edward, my lord, your son, our king, is dead.

  Why grow the branches now the root is wither’d?

  Why wither not the leaves the sap being gone?

  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.

  Duchess Of York

  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,

  And lived by looking on his images:

  But now two mirrors of his princely semblance

  Are crack’d in pieces by malignant death,

  And I for comfort have but one false glass,

  Which grieves me when I see my shame in him.

  Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother,

  And hast the comfort of thy children left thee:

  But death hath snatch’d my husband from mine arms,

  And pluck’d two crutches from my feeble limbs,

  Edward and Clarence. O, what cause have I,

  Thine being but a moiety of my grief,

  To overgo thy plaints and drown thy cries!

  Boy

  Good aunt, you wept not for our father’s death;

  How can we aid you with our kindred tears?

  Girl

  Our fatherless distress was left unmoan’d;

  Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept!

  Queen Elizabeth

  Give me no help in lamentation;

  I am not barren to bring forth complaints

  All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes,

  That I, being govern’d by the watery moon,

  May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world!

  Oh for my husband, for my dear lord Edward!

  Children

  Oh for our father, for our dear lord Clarence!

  Duchess Of York

  Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence!

  Queen Elizabeth

  What stay had I but Edward? and he’s gone.

  Children

  What stay had we but Clarence? and he’s gone.

  Duchess Of York

  What stays had I but they? and they are gone.

  Queen Elizabeth

  Was never widow had so dear a loss!

  Children

  Were never orphans had so dear a loss!

  Duchess Of York

  Was never mother had so dear a loss!

  Alas, I am the mother of these moans!

  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.

  Dorset

  Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeased

  That you take with unthankfulness, his doing:

  In common worldly things, ’tis call’d ungrateful,

  With dull unwilligness to repay a debt

  Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent;

  Much more to be thus opposite with heaven,

  For it requires the royal debt it lent you.

  Rivers

  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 Gloucester, Buckingham, Derby, Hastings, and Ratcliff

  Gloucester

  Madam, have comfort: all of us have cause

  To wail the dimming of our shining star;

  But none can cure their harms by wailing them.

  Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy;

  I did not see your grace: humbly on my knee

  I crave your blessing.

  Duchess Of York

  God bless thee; and put meekness in thy mind,

  Love, charity, obedience, and true duty!

  Gloucester

  [Aside] Amen; and make me die a good old man!

  That is the butt-end of a mother’s blessing:

  I marvel why her grace did leave it out.

  Buckingham

  You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers,

  That bear this mutual heavy load of moan,

  Now cheer each other in each other’s love

  Though we have spent our harvest of this king,

  We are to reap the harvest of his son.

  The broken rancour of your high-swoln hearts,

  But lately splinter’d, knit, and join’d together,

  Must gently be preserved, cherish�
��d, and kept:

  Me seemeth good, that, with some little train,

  Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetch’d

  Hither to London, to be crown’d our king.

  Rivers

  Why with some little train, my Lord of Buckingham?

  Buckingham

  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.

  Gloucester

  I hope the king made peace with all of us

  And the compact is firm and true in me.

  Rivers

  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 be urged:

  Therefore I say with noble Buckingham,

  That it is meet so few should fetch the prince.

  Hastings

  And so say I.

  Gloucester

  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?

  Queen Elizabeth

  Duchess Of York

  With all our harts.

  Exeunt all but Buckingham and Gloucester

  Buckingham

  My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince,

  For God’s sake, let not us two be behind;

  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 king.

  Gloucester

  My other self, my counsel’s consistory,

  My oracle, my prophet! My dear cousin,

  I, like a child, will go by thy direction.

  Towards Ludlow then, for we’ll not stay behind.

  Exeunt

  SCENE III. LONDON. A STREET.

  Enter two Citizens meeting

  First Citizen

  Neighbour, well met: whither away so fast?

  Second Citizen

  I promise you, I scarcely know myself:

  Hear you the news abroad?

  First Citizen

  Ay, that the king is dead.

  Second Citizen

  Bad news, by’r lady; seldom comes the better:

  I fear, I fear ’twill prove a troublous world.

  Enter another Citizen

  Third Citizen

  Neighbours, God speed!

  First Citizen

  Give you good morrow, sir.

  Third Citizen

  Doth this news hold of good King Edward’s death?

  Second Citizen

  Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while!

  Third Citizen

  Then, masters, look to see a troublous world.

  First Citizen

  No, no; by God’s good grace his son shall reign.

  Third Citizen

  Woe to the land that’s govern’d by a child!

  Second Citizen

  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.

  First Citizen

  So stood the state when Henry the Sixth

  Was crown’d in Paris but at nine months old.

  Third Citizen

  Stood the state so? No, no, good friends, God wot;

  For then this land was famously enrich’d

  With politic grave counsel; then the king

  Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace.

  First Citizen

  Why, so hath this, both by the father and mother.

  Third Citizen

  Better it were they all came by the father,

  Or by the father there were none at all;

  For emulation now, who shall be nearest,

  Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not.

  O, full of danger is the Duke of Gloucester!

  And the queen’s sons and brothers haught and proud:

  And were they to be ruled, and not to rule,

  This sickly land might solace as before.

  First Citizen

  Come, come, we fear the worst; all shall be well.

  Third Citizen

  When clouds appear, wise men put on their cloaks;

  When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand;

  When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?

  Untimely storms make men expect a dearth.

  All may be well; but, if God sort it so,

  ’Tis more than we deserve, or I expect.

  Second Citizen

  Truly, the souls of men are full of dread:

  Ye cannot reason almost with a man

  That looks not heavily and full of fear.

  Third Citizen

  Before the times of change, still is it so:

  By a divine instinct men’s minds mistrust

  Ensuing dangers; as by proof, we see

  The waters swell before a boisterous storm.

  But leave it all to God. whither away?

  Second Citizen

  Marry, we were sent for to the justices.

  Third Citizen

  And so was I: I’ll bear you company.

  Exeunt

  SCENE IV. LONDON. THE PALACE.

  Enter the Archbishop Of York, young York, Queen Elizabeth, and the Duchess Of York

  Archbishop Of York

  Last night, I hear, they lay at Northampton;

  At Stony-Stratford will they be to-night:

  To-morrow, or next day, they will be here.

  Duchess Of York

  I long with all my heart to see the prince:

  I hope he is much grown since last I saw him.

  Queen Elizabeth

  But I hear, no; they say my son of York

  Hath almost overta’en him in his growth.

  York

  Ay, mother; but I would not have it so.

  Duchess Of York

  Why, my young cousin, it is good to grow.

  York

  Grandam, one night, as we did sit at supper,

  My uncle Rivers talk’d how I did grow

  More than my brother: ‘Ay,’ quoth my uncle

  Gloucester,

  ‘small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace:’

  And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast,

  Because sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.

  Duchess Of York

  Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold

  In him that did object the same to thee;

  He was the wretched’st thing when he was young,

  So long a-growing and so leisurely,

  That, if this rule were true, he should be gracious.

  Archbishop Of York

  Why, madam, so, no doubt, he is.

  Duchess Of York

  I hope he is; but yet let mothers doubt.

  York

  Now, by my troth, if I had been remember’d,

  I could have given my uncle’s grace a flout,

  To touch his growth nearer than he touch’d mine.

  Duchess Of York

  How, my pretty York? I pray thee, let me hear it.

  York

  Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast

  That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old

  ’Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth.

  Grandam, this would have been a biting jest.

  Duchess Of York

&n
bsp; I pray thee, pretty York, who told thee this?

  York

  Grandam, his nurse.

  Duchess Of York

  His nurse! why, she was dead ere thou wert born.

  York

  If ’twere not she, I cannot tell who told me.

  Queen Elizabeth

  A parlous boy: go to, you are too shrewd.

  Archbishop Of York

  Good madam, be not angry with the child.

  Queen Elizabeth

  Pitchers have ears.

  Enter a Messenger

  Archbishop Of York

  Here comes a messenger. What news?

  Messenger

  Such news, my lord, as grieves me to unfold.

  Queen Elizabeth

  How fares the prince?

  Messenger

  Well, madam, and in health.

  Duchess Of York

  What is thy news then?

  Messenger

  Lord Rivers and Lord Grey are sent to Pomfret,

  With them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners.

  Duchess Of York

  Who hath committed them?

  Messenger

  The mighty dukes

  Gloucester and Buckingham.

  Queen Elizabeth

  For what offence?

  Messenger

  The sum of all I can, I have disclosed;

  Why or for what these nobles were committed

  Is all unknown to me, my gracious lady.

  Queen Elizabeth

  Ay me, I see the downfall of our house!

  The tiger now hath seized the gentle hind;

  Insulting tyranny begins to jet

  Upon the innocent and aweless throne:

  Welcome, destruction, death, and massacre!

  I see, as in a map, the end of all.

  Duchess Of York

  Accursed and unquiet wrangling days,

  How many of you have mine eyes beheld!

  My husband lost his life to get the crown;

  And often up and down my sons were toss’d,

  For me to joy and weep their gain and loss:

  And being seated, and domestic broils

  Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors.

  Make war upon themselves; blood against blood,

  Self against self: O, preposterous

  And frantic outrage, end thy damned spleen;

  Or let me die, to look on death no more!

  Queen Elizabeth

  Come, come, my boy; we will to sanctuary.

  Madam, farewell.

  Duchess Of York

  I’ll go along with you.

  Queen Elizabeth

  You have no cause.

  Archbishop Of York

  My gracious lady, go;

  And thither bear your treasure and your goods.

  For my part, I’ll resign unto your grace

  The seal I keep: and so betide to me

  As well I tender you and all of yours!

  Come, I’ll conduct you to the sanctuary.

  Exeunt

  ACT III

 

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