From whence this present day he is deliver'd? Clar. By heaven, I think there is no man secure Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon me; That no man shall have private conference, Of what degree soever, with his brother. Glo. Even so; an please your worship, Brakenbury, We speak no treason, man; we say the king A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; Brak. With this, my lord, myself have naught to do. Glo. Naught to do with Mistress Shore! 1 tell thee, fellow, He that doth naught with her, excepting one, Were best to do it secretly, alone. Brak. What one, my lord? Glo. Her husband, knave:-wouldst thou betray me ? Brak. I beseech your grace to pardon me; and, withal, Forbear your conference with the noble duke. Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. Glo. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey.Brother, farewell: I will unto the king; And whatsoe'er you will employ me in,- Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well. I will deliver you, or else lie for you: Meantime, have patience. Clar. I must perforce: farewell. Glo. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return, Hast. Good time of day unto my gracious lord! How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment? Hast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must: Glo. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; And have prevail'd as much on him as you. Hast. More pity that the eagle should be mew'd While kites and buzzards prey at liberty. Glo. What news abroad? Hast. No news so bad abroad as this at home,— The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy, And his physicians fear him mightily. Glo. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed. O, he hath kept an evil diet long, And overmuch consum'd his royal person: 'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. What, is he in his bed? Glo. Go you before, and I will follow you. He cannot live, I hope; and must not die [Exit HAST. Till George be pack'd with posthorse up to heaven. Clarence hath not another day to live: Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy, For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter: The which will I; not all so much for love By marrying her, which I must reach unto. But yet I run before my horse to market: Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns: [Exit. SCENE II.-LONDON. Another Street. Enter the Corpse of KING HENRY THE SIXTH, borne in an open coffin, Gentlemen bearing halberds to guard it; and LADY ANNE as mourner. Anne. Set down, set down your honourable load,— The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.- To hear the lamentations of poor Anne, Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these wounds! May fright the hopeful mother at the view; More miserable by the death of him Than I am made by my young lord and thee! Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, And still, as you are weary of the weight, Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse. [The Bearers take up the Corpse and advance. Enter GLOSTER. Glo. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend, To stop devoted charitable deeds? Glo. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys! 1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. Glo. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command: Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, [The Bearers set down the coffin. His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone. Glo. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not; For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, Provokes this deluge most unnatural. O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death! Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self. Glo. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have Some patient leisure to excuse myself. Anne. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make No excuse current, but to hang thyself. Glo. By such despair I should accuse myself. Anne. And by despairing shalt thou stand excus'd; For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, That didst unworthy slaughter upon others. Glo. Say that I slew them not? Then say they were not slain : Anne. Anne. Why, then, he is alive. Glo. Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. Anne. In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood; The which thou once didst bend against her breast, But that thy brothers beat aside the point. Glo. I was provoked by her slanderous tongue, Glo. I grant ye. Anne. Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed! O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous. Glo. The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him. Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. Glo. Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither; For he was fitter for that place than earth. Anne. And thou unfit for any place but hell. Glo. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. Glo. Your bed-chamber. Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest! Glo. I know so.-But, gentle Lady Anne, To leave this keen encounter of our wits, |