Part 6 (2/2)

QUEEN ELIZABETH. A holy day shall this be kept hereafter.

I would to G.o.d all strifes were well compounded.

My sovereign lord, I do beseech your Highness To take our brother Clarence to your grace.

GLOUCESTER. Why, madam, have I off'red love for this, To be so flouted in this royal presence?

Who knows not that the gentle Duke is dead?

[They all start]

You do him injury to scorn his corse.

KING EDWARD. 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 man in the presence But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks.

KING EDWARD. Is Clarence dead? The order was revers'd.

GLOUCESTER. But he, poor man, by your first order died, And that a winged Mercury did bear; Some tardy cripple bare the countermand That came too lag to see him buried.

G.o.d grant that some, less n.o.ble and less loyal, Nearer in b.l.o.o.d.y thoughts, an not in blood, Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, And yet go current from suspicion!

Enter DERBY

DERBY. A boon, my sovereign, for my service done!

KING EDWARD. I prithee, peace; my soul is full of sorrow.

DERBY. I Will not rise unless your Highness hear me.

KING EDWARD. Then say at once what is it thou requests.

DERBY. The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life; Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk.

KING EDWARD. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death, And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave?

My brother killed no man-his fault was thought, And yet his punishment was bitter death.

Who sued to me for him? Who, in my wrath, Kneel'd at my feet, and bid me be advis'd?

Who spoke of brotherhood? Who spoke 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 at 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 garments, and did give 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 race to put it in my mind.

But when your carters or your waiting-va.s.sals Have done a drunken slaughter and defac'd The precious image of our dear Redeemer, You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; And I, unjustly too, must grant it you. [DERBY rises]

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 beg for his life.

O G.o.d, I fear thy justice will take hold On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this!

Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. Ah, poor Clarence!

Exeunt some with KING and QUEEN GLOUCESTER. This is the fruits of rashness. Mark'd you not How that the guilty kindred of the Queen Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death?

O, they did urge it still unto the King!

G.o.d will revenge it. Come, lords, will you go To comfort Edward with our company?

BUCKINGHAM. We wait upon your Grace. Exeunt

SCENE 2.

London. The palace

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