| Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY. | |
BRAKENBURY | Why looks your grace so heavily to-day? | |
CLARENCE | O, I have pass'd a miserable night, | |
| So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams, | |
| That, as I am a Christian faithful man, |
| I would not spend another such a night, |
| Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days, | |
| So full of dismal terror was the time! | |
BRAKENBURY | What was your dream? I long to hear you tell it. | |
CLARENCE | Methought that I had broken from the Tower, |
| And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy; | | 10 |
| And, in my company, my brother Gloucester; | |
| Who from my cabin tempted me to walk | |
| Upon the hatches: thence we look'd toward England, | |
| And cited up a thousand fearful times, |
| During the wars of York and Lancaster | |
| That had befall'n us. As we paced along | |
| Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, | |
| Methought that Gloucester stumbled; and, in falling, | |
| Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard, |
| Into the tumbling billows of the main. | | 20 |
| Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! | |
| What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! | |
| What ugly sights of death within mine eyes! | |
| Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; |
| Ten thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon; |
| Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, | |
| Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, | |
| All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea: | |
| Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes |
| Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, | | 30 |
| As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems, | |
| Which woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, | |
| And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by. | |
BRAKENBURY | Had you such leisure in the time of death |
| To gaze upon the secrets of the deep? | |
CLARENCE | Methought I had; and often did I strive | |
| To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood | |
| Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth | |
| To seek the empty, vast and wandering air; |
| But smother'd it within my panting bulk, | | 40 |
| Which almost burst to belch it in the sea. | |
BRAKENBURY | Awaked you not with this sore agony? | |
CLARENCE | O, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life; | |
| O, then began the tempest to my soul, |
| Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, |
| With that grim ferryman which poets write of, | |
| Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. | |
| The first that there did greet my stranger soul, | |
| Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; |
| Who cried aloud, 'What scourge for perjury | | 50 |
| Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?' | |
| And so he vanish'd: then came wandering by | |
| A shadow like an angel, with bright hair | |
| Dabbled in blood; and he squeak'd out aloud, |
| 'Clarence is come; false, fleeting, perjured Clarence, |
| That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury; | |
| Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments!' | |
| With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends | |
| Environ'd me about, and howled in mine ears |
| Such hideous cries, that with the very noise | | 60 |
| I trembling waked, and for a season after | |
| Could not believe but that I was in hell, | |
| Such terrible impression made the dream. | |
BRAKENBURY | No marvel, my lord, though it affrighted you; |
| I promise, I am afraid to hear you tell it. |
CLARENCE | O Brakenbury, I have done those things, | |
| Which now bear evidence against my soul, | |
| For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me! | |
| O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee, |
| But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds, | | 70 |
| Yet execute thy wrath in me alone, | |
| O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children! | |
| I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me; | |
| My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. |
BRAKENBURY | I will, my lord: God give your grace good rest! |
| CLARENCE sleeps. | |
| Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, | |
| Makes the night morning, and the noontide night. | |
| Princes have but their titles for their glories, | |
| An outward honour for an inward toil; |
| And, for unfelt imagination, | | 80 |
| They often feel a world of restless cares: | |
| So that, betwixt their tides and low names, | |
| There's nothing differs but the outward fame. | |
| Enter the two Murderers. | |
First Murderer | Ho! who's here? |
BRAKENBURY | What wouldst thou, fellow? and how cam'st you hither? |
First Murderer | I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. | |
BRAKENBURY | What, so brief? | |
Second Murderer | 'Tis better, sir, than to be tedious. Show | |
| him our commission; talk no more. | | 90 |
| [ A paper is delivered to BRAKENBURY who reads it. | |
BRAKENBURY | I am, in this, commanded to deliver |
| The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands: | |
| I will not reason what is meant hereby, | |
| Because I will be guiltless of the meaning. |
| There lies the duke alseep -- and there the keys, |
| I'll to the king; and signify to him | |
| That thus I have resign'd to you my charge. | |
First Murderer | You may sir, 'tis a point of wisdom: fare you well. | | 100 |
| [ Exit BRAKENBURY. | |
Second Murderer | What, shall we stab him as he sleeps? | |
First Murderer | No; then he will say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes. |
Second Murderer | Why, he shall never wake till | |
| the judgment-day. | |
First Murderer | Why, then he will say we stabb'd him sleeping. | |
Second Murderer | The urging of that word 'judgment' hath bred a kind | |
| of remorse in me. |
First Murderer | What, art thou afraid? | |
Second Murderer | Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be | |
| damned for killing him, from which no warrant can defend me. | |
First Murderer | I thought thou hadst been resolute. | |
Second Murderer | So I am, to let him live. |
First Murderer | I'll back to the Duke of Gloucester, and tell him so. | |
Second Murderer | Nay, I pray thee, stay a little: I hope my holy humour | | 120 |
| will change; 'twas wont to hold me but while one | |
| would tell twenty. | |
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? | | 130 |
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 | What if it come to thee again? |
Second Murderer | I'll not meddle with it: it | |
| makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but it | |
| accuseth him; a man cannot swear, but it cheques him; | | 140 |
| a man 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 by chance 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 believe him not: he | | 150 |
| would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh. | |
First Murderer | Tut, I am strong-fram'd, he cannot prevail with me. | |
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 throw him into the malmsey-butt | |
| in the next room. | | 160 |
Second Murderer | O excellent device! make a sop of him. | |
First Murderer | Soft! he wakes. |
Second Murderer | Strike! |
First Murderer | No, we'll 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? | | 170 |
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-- | | 180 |
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 reconcil'd to him again. |
Second Murderer | Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die. | | 190 |
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, | | 200 |
| 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 fulfill a man's? | | 210 |
| 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. | | 220 |
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; | | 230 |
| 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. | | 240 |
| If you be hir'd 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, | | 250 |
| 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 sends us to destroy you here. | |
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 you | | 260 |
| 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. | | 270 |
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? | | 280 |
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 sav'd his brother! |
| Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say; | | 290 |
| 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. | |
| [ Exit | |