Shakespeare's First Folio Part 409

Rich. Humbly complaining to her Deitie, Got my Lord Chamberlaine his libertie.

Ile tell you what, I thinke it is our way, If we will keepe in fauour with the King, To be her men, and weare her Liuery.

The iealous ore-worne Widdow, and her selfe, Since that our Brother dub'd them Gentlewomen, Are mighty Gossips in our Monarchy

Bra. I beseech your Graces both to pardon me, His Maiesty hath straightly giuen in charge, That no man shall haue priuate Conference (Of what degree soeuer) with your Brother

Rich. Euen so, and please your Wors.h.i.+p Brakenbury, You may partake of any thing we say: We speake no Treason man; We say the King Is wise and vertuous, and his n.o.ble Queene Well strooke in yeares, faire, and not iealious.

We say, that Sh.o.r.es Wife hath a pretty Foot, A cherry Lip, a bonny Eye, a pa.s.sing pleasing tongue: And that the Queenes Kindred are made gentle Folkes.

How say you sir? can you deny all this?

Bra. With this (my Lord) my selfe haue nought to doo

Rich. Naught to do with Mistris Sh.o.r.e?

I tell thee Fellow, he that doth naught with her (Excepting one) were best to do it secretly alone

Bra. What one, my Lord?

Rich. Her Husband Knaue, would'st thou betray me?

Bra. I do beseech your Grace To pardon me, and withall forbeare Your Conference with the n.o.ble Duke

Cla. We know thy charge Brakenbury, and wil obey

Rich. We are the Queenes abiects, and must obey.

Brother farewell, I will vnto the King, And whatsoe're you will imploy me in, Were it to call King Edwards Widdow, Sister, I will performe it to infranchise you.

Meane time, this deepe disgrace in Brotherhood, Touches me deeper then you can imagine

Cla. I know it pleaseth neither of vs well

Rich. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long, I will deliuer you, or else lye for you: Meane time, haue patience

Cla. I must perforce: Farewell.

Exit Clar[ence].

Rich. Go treade the path that thou shalt ne're return: Simple plaine Clarence, I do loue thee so, That I will shortly send thy Soule to Heauen, If Heauen will take the present at our hands.

But who comes heere? the new deliuered Hastings?

Enter Lord Hastings.

Hast. Good time of day vnto my gracious Lord

Rich. As much vnto my good Lord Chamberlaine: Well are you welcome to this open Ayre, How hath your Lords.h.i.+p brook'd imprisonment?

Hast. With patience (n.o.ble Lord) as prisoners must: But I shall liue (my Lord) to giue them thankes That were the cause of my imprisonment

Rich. No doubt, no doubt, and so shall Clarence too, For they that were your Enemies, are his, And haue preuail'd as much on him, as you, Hast. More pitty, that the Eagles should be mew'd, Whiles Kites and Buzards play at liberty

Rich. What newes abroad?

Hast. No newes so bad abroad, as this at home: The King is sickly, weake, and melancholly, And his Physitians feare him mightily

Rich. Now by S[aint]. Iohn, that Newes is bad indeed.

O he hath kept an euill Diet long, And ouer-much consum'd his Royall Person: 'Tis very greeuous to be thought vpon.

Where is he, in his bed?

Hast. He is

Rich. Go you before, and I will follow you.

Exit Hastings.

He cannot liue I hope, and must not dye, Till George be pack'd with post-horse vp to Heauen.

Ile in to vrge his hatred more to Clarence, With Lyes well steel'd with weighty Arguments, And if I faile not in my deepe intent, Clarence hath not another day to liue: Which done, G.o.d take King Edward to his mercy, And leaue the world for me to bussle in.

For then, Ile marry Warwickes yongest daughter.

What though I kill'd her Husband, and her Father, The readiest way to make the Wench amends, Is to become her Husband, and her Father: The which will I, not all so much for loue, As for another secret close intent, By marrying her, which I must reach vnto.

But yet I run before my horse to Market: Clarence still breathes, Edward still liues and raignes, When they are gone, then must I count my gaines.

Exit

Scena Secunda.

Enter the Coa.r.s.e of Henrie the sixt with Halberds to guard it, Lady Anne being the Mourner.

Anne. Set downe, set downe your honourable load, If Honor may be shrowded in a Herse; Whil'st I a-while obsequiously lament Th' vntimely fall of Vertuous Lancaster.

Poore key-cold Figure of a holy King, Pale Ashes of the House of Lancaster; Thou bloodlesse Remnant of that Royall Blood, Be it lawfull that I inuocate thy Ghost, To heare the Lamentations of poore Anne, Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtred Sonne, Stab'd by the selfesame hand that made these wounds.

Loe, in these windowes that let forth thy life, I powre the helplesse Balme of my poore eyes.

O cursed be the hand that made these holes: Cursed the Heart, that had the heart to do it: Cursed the Blood, that let this blood from hence: More direfull hap betide that hated Wretch That makes vs wretched by the death of thee, Then I can wish to Wolues, to Spiders, Toades, Or any creeping venom'd thing that liues.

If euer he haue Childe, Abortiue be it, Prodigeous, and vntimely brought to light, Whose vgly and vnnaturall Aspect May fright the hopefull Mother at the view, And that be Heyre to his vnhappinesse.

If euer he haue Wife, let her be made More miserable by the death of him, Then I am made by my young Lord, and thee.

Come now towards Chertsey with your holy Lode, Taken from Paules, to be interred there.

And still as you are weary of this waight, Rest you, whiles I lament King Henries Coa.r.s.e.

Enter Richard Duke of Gloster.

Rich. Stay you that beare the Coa.r.s.e, & set it down

An. What blacke Magitian coniures vp this Fiend, To stop deuoted charitable deeds?

Rich. Villaines set downe the Coa.r.s.e, or by S[aint]. Paul, Ile make a Coa.r.s.e of him that disobeyes

Gen. My Lord stand backe, and let the Coffin pa.s.se

Rich. Vnmanner'd Dogge, Stand'st thou when I commaund: Aduance thy Halbert higher then my brest, Or by S[aint]. Paul Ile strike thee to my Foote, And spurne vpon thee Begger for thy boldnesse

Anne. What do you tremble? are you all affraid?

Alas, I blame you not, for you are Mortall, And Mortall eyes cannot endure the Diuell.

Auant thou dreadfull minister of h.e.l.l; Thou had'st but power ouer his Mortall body, His Soule thou canst not haue: Therefore be gone

Rich. Sweet Saint, for Charity, be not so curst

An. Foule Diuell, For G.o.ds sake hence, and trouble vs not, For thou hast made the happy earth thy h.e.l.l: Fill'd it with cursing cries, and deepe exclaimes: If thou delight to view thy heynous deeds, Behold this patterne of thy Butcheries.

Oh Gentlemen, see, see dead Henries wounds, Open their congeal'd mouthes, and bleed afresh.

Blush, blush, thou lumpe of fowle Deformitie: For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood From cold and empty Veines where no blood dwels.

Thy Deeds inhumane and vnnaturall, Prouokes this Deluge most vnnaturall.

O G.o.d! which this Blood mad'st, reuenge his death: O Earth! which this Blood drink'st, reuenge his death.

Either Heau'n with Lightning strike the murth'rer dead: Or Earth gape open wide, and eate him quicke, As thou dost swallow vp this good Kings blood, Which his h.e.l.l-gouern'd arme hath butchered