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K. Hen. The bird, that hath been limed in a bush, And this word-love, which gray beards call divine, With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush : Be resident in men like one another, And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird,
And not in me; I am myself alone.Have now the fatal object in my eye,
Clarence, beware; thou keep'st me from the light; Where my poor young was limed, was caught, and But I will sorte a pitchy day for thee: kill'd.
For I will buz abroad such prophecies, Glo. Why, what a peevisho fool was that of Crete, That Edward shall be fearful of his life : That taught his son the ottice of a fowl?
And then, to purge his fear, I'll be thy death. And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown'd. King Henry, and the prince his son, are gone:
K. Hen. I, Dædalus; my poor boy, Icarus ; Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest;
Counting myself but bad, till I be best.-
And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom. [Exit. Whose envious gult did swallow up his life. Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words!
SCENE VII.-A Room in the Palace. My breast can better brook thy dagger's point,
KING EDWARD is discovered sitting on his Throne; Than can my ears that tragic history:
QUEEN ELIZABETH with the infumt Prince, CLABut wherefore dost thou come? is't for my life?
RENCE, GLOSTER, HASTINGS, and others, near him. Glo. Think'st thou, I am an executioner?
K. Edw. Once more we sit in England's royal K. Hen. A persecutor, I am sure, thou art;
throne, If murdering innocents be executing,
Re-purchas'd with the blood of enemies. Why, then thou art an executioner.
What valiant foe-men, like to autumn's corn, Glo. Thy son I kill'd, for his presumption. Have we mow'd down, in tops of all their pride? K. Hen. Had'st thou been kill'd, when tìrst thou Three dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd didst presume,
For hardy and undoubted champions :
Two Chittords, as the father and the son,
Ne'er spurr'd their coursers at the trumpet's sound: And many an old man's sigh, and many a widow's, With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and And many an orphan's water-standing eye
Montague, Men for their sons', wives for their husbands' fate, That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion, And orphans for their parents' timeless death,- And made the forest tremble when they roar'd. Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born. Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat, The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign;
And made our footstool of security:The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time; Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy: Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles, and myself, trees;
Have in our armors watch'd the winter's night; The raven rook’ds her on the chimney's top, Went all a-foot in summer's scalding heat, And chattering pies in dismal discords sung. That thou might'st repossess the crown in peace : Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, And of our labors thou shalt reap the gain. And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope; Glo. I'll blast his harvest, if your head were laid; To wit-an indigest deformed lump,
For yet I am not look'd on in the world. Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree.
This shoulder was ordain'd so thick, to heave; Teeth hadst thou in thy head, when thou wast born, And heaveitshall some weight, or break my back: To signity,—thou cam'st to bite the world: Work thou the way,--and thou shalt execute. And, if the rest be true which I have heard,
(Aside. Thou cam'st
K. Edw. Clarence and Gloster, love my lovely Glo. I'll hear no more ;-Die, prophet, in thy
[Stabs nim. And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both. For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd.
Clar. The duty, that I owe unto your majesty, K.Hen. Ay,and for much more slaughterafter this. I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe. O God! forgive my sins, and pardon thee! (Dies. K. Edw. Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy broGlo. What, will the aspiring blood of Lancaster
ther, thanks. Sink in the ground ? I thought it would have Glo. And, that I love the tree from whence thou mounted.
sprang'st, See, how my sword weeps for the poor king's death! Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit:0, may such purple tears be always shed
To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his From those that wish the downfall of our house!
Aside. If any spark of life be yet remaining,
And cried-all hail!-when as he meant Down, down to hell;—and say, I sent thee thither,
(Stabs him again. K. Edw. Now am I seated as my soul delights, I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.
Having my country's peace, and brothers' loves. Indeed, 'tis true, that Henry told me of;
Clar. What will your grace have done with MarAs I have often heard my mother say,
garet? I came into the world with my legs forward : Reignier, her father, to the king of France Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste,
Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem, And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right? And bither have they sent it for her ransom. The midwife wonder'd; and the women cried, K. Edw. Away with her, and waft her henco to. 0, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!
France. And so I was; which plainly signified
And now what rests, but that we spend the time That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog. With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows, Then since the heavens have shap'd my body so, Such as betit the pleasures of the court?Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it. Sound, drums and trumpets!-farewell, sour annoy! I have no brother, I am like no brother:
For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy. (Exeunt. • Childish. • To rook signified to lodge on any thing.
LIFE AND DEATH OF
KING RICHARD III.
KING EDWARD THE FOURTH.
SIR RICHARD RATCLIFF. EDWARD, Prince of Wales, af
SIR WILLIAM CATESBY. terwards King Edward V., Sons to the King. SIR JAMES TYRREL. RICHARD, Duke of York,
SIR JAMES BLOUNT. GEORGE, Duke of Clarence,
Brothers to the
SIR WALTER HERBERT. RICHARI), Duke of Gloster, af
King. terwards King Richard III.,
Sir ROBERT BRAKENBURY, Lieutenant of the Tower.
CHRISTOPHER URSWICK, a Priest.
Sheriff of Wiltshire.
ELIZABETH, Queen of King Edward IV.
MARGARET, Widow of King Henry VI. DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
DUCHESS OF YORK, Mother to King Edward IV, DUKE OF NORFOLK.
Clarence, and Gloster. EARL OF SURREY, his Son.
LADY ANNE, Widow of. Edward, Prince of Wales,
A young Daughter of Clarence.
Lords, and other Attendants ; two Gentlemen, LORD LOVEL.
Pursuivant, Scrivener, Citizens, Murderers, Mes. SIR THOMAS VAUGHAN.
sengers, Ghosts, Soldiers, &c. SCENE.-England.
SCENE I.-London. A Street.
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them ;
Why I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time;
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun,
To entertain these fair ell-spoken days,
In deadly hate the one against the other;
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up; To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
About a prophecy, which says—that G But I,—that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; Dive, thoughts, down to my soul! here Clarence I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's maTo strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY. I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Brother. good day: What means this armed guard Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
That waits upon your grace? Deform’d, unfinish'd, sent before my time
His majesty, Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed And that so lamely and unfashionable,
This conduct to convey me to the Tower. Dances.
• Preparations for mischief.
Glo. Upon what cause ?
Hast. Good time of day unto my gracious lord !
Glo. As much unto my good lord chamberlain!
Well are you welcome to this open air. 0, belike his majesty hath some intent, That you shall be new christen’d in the Tower.
How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?
Hast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know?
must: Clar. Yea, Richard, when I know; for 1 protest, But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks, As yet I do not: But, as I can learn,
That were the cause of my imprisonment. He hearkens after prophecies and dreams;
Glo. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence And from the cross-row plucks the letter G,
too; And says—a wizard told him, that by G
For they, that were your enemies, are his, His issue disinherited should be;
And have prevail'd as much on him as you. And, for my name of George begins with G,
Hast. More pity that the eagle should be mew'd, It follows in his thought that I am he:
While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.
Glo. What news abroad?
Hast. No news so bad abroad, as this at home;'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower;
And his physicians fear him mightily.
Glo. Now, by saint Paul, this news is bad indeed. My lady Grey, his wife, Clarence, 'tis she,
0, he hath kept an evil diet long, That tempers him to this extremity.
And over-much consumed his royal person; Was it not she, and that good man of worship,
'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. Antony Woodeville, her brother there,
What, is he in his bed ? That made him send lord Hastings to the Tower;
He is. From whence this present day he is deliver'd?
Glo. Go you before, and I will follow you. We are not safe, Clarence, we are not safe.
[Exit HastingS. Clar. By heaven, I think, there is no man secure, But the queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven.
He cannot live, I hope; and must not die, That trudge betwixt the king and mistress Shore.
I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence, Heard you not what an humble suppliant
With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments; Lord Hastings was to her for his delivery?
And, if I fail not in my deep intent, Glo. Humbly complaining to her deity,
Clarence hath not another day to live: Got my lord chamberlain his liberty.
Which done, God take king Edward to his mercy, I'll tell you what,- I think it is our way,
And leave the world for me to bustle in! If we will keep in favor with the king,
For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter: To be her men, and wear her livery:
What though I kill'd her husband, and her father? The jealous o'er-worn widow, and herself,4 Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen, Is--to become her husband, and her father:
The readiest way to make the wench amends, Are mighty gossips in this monarchy. Brak. I beseech your graces both io pardon me;
The which will I ; not all so much for love,
As for another secret close intent,
By marrying her, which I must reach unto.
But yet I run before my horse to market: Of what degree soever, with his brother. Glo. Even so ? an please your worship, Braken- Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives, and
reigns; bury, You may partake of any thing we say:
When they are gone, then must I count my gains. We speak no treason, man;-We say, the king
[Exit. Is wise, and virtuous; and his noble queen
SCENE II.-Another Street. Well struck in years; fair, and not jealous : Enter the Corpse of King HENRY the Sixth, borne We say, that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
in an open Coffin; Gentlemen bearing Halberds, A cherry lip,
to guard it; and LADY ANNE as Mourner. A bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue;
Anne. Set down, set down your honorable load, And the queen's kindred are made gentle folks : If honor may be shrouded in a hearse, How say you, sir ? can you deny all this?
Whilst I a while obsequiously; lament Brak. With this, my lord, myself have naught The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.to do.
Poor key-cold figure of a holy king! Glo. Naught to do with mistress Shoro? I tell Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster! thee, fellow,
Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood! He that doth naught with her, excepting one, Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost, Were best to do it secretly, alone.
To hear the lamentations of poor Anne, Brak. What one, my lord ?
Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son, Glo. Her husband, knave:-Wouldst thou be- Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these
wounds! Brak. I beseech your grace to pardon me; and, Lo, in these windows, that let forth thy life, withal,
I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes :Forbear your conference with the noble duke.
0, cursed be the hand that made these holes ! Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and Cursed the heart, that had the heart to do it! will obey.
Cursed the blood, that let this blood from hence! Glo. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey. More direful hap betide that hated wretch, Brother, farewell: I will unto the king;
That makes us wretched by the death of thee, And whatsoever you will employ me in,
Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads, Were it to call king Edward's widow-sister,
Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives! I will perform it to enfranchise you.
If ever he have child, abortive be it, Mean time, this deep disgrace in brotherhood,
Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, Touch es me deeper than you can imagine.
Whose ugly and unnatural aspect Clai I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
May fright the hopeful mother at the view; Glo. Well, your imprisonment shall not be And that be heir to his unhappiness! long;
If ever he have wife, let her be made I will deliver you, or else lie for you:
More miserable by the death of him, Mean time, have patience.
Than I am made by my young lord, and thee !Clar.
I must perforce; farewell. Come, now, toward Chertsey with your holy load, (Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard. Taken from Paul's to be interred there; Glo. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er
And still, as you are weary of the weight, return,
Rest you, whiles I lament king Henry's corse. Simple, plain Clarence !- I do love thee so,
[ The Bearers take up the Corpse, and advance. That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, if heaven will take the present at our hands.
Enter GLOSTER. But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings? Glo. Stay you that bear the corse, and set it down • The queen and Shore.
• With becoming reverence for the dead.
Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend, Anne. And thou unfit for any place but hell. To stop devoted charitable deeds?
Glo. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me Glo. Villains, set down the corse;or, by saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.
Anne. Some dungeon. 1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. Glo.
Your bed-chamber. Glo. Unmanner'd dog: stand thou when I com- Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest! mand:
Glo. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. Advance thy halberd higher than my breast,
Anne. I hope so. Or, by saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot,
Glo. i know so.-But, gentle lady Anne, And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. To leave this keen encounter of our wits,
(The Bearers set down the Coffin. And fall somewhat into a slower method, Anne. What, do you tremble? are you all afraid? Is not the causer of the timeless deaths Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal,
Of these Plantagenets. Henry and Edward,
Anne. Thou wast the cause and most accurr'd Thou hadst but power over his mortal body,
eflect. His soul thou canst not have; therefore, begone. Glo. Your beauty was the cause of that effect;
Glo. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. Your beauty which did haunt me in my sleep, Anne. Foul devil, for God's sako, hence, and To undertake the death of all the world, trouble us not;
So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,
Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, Fili'd it with cursing cries, and deep exclaims. These nails should rend that beauty from my If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,
checks. Behold this pattern of thy butcheries:-
Glo. These eyes could not endure that beauty's O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds
wreck; Open their congeal’d mouths, and bleed afresh! - You should not blemish it if I stood by: Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity; As all the world is cheered by the sun, For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood So I by that; it is my day, my life. From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural,
thy life! Provokes this deluge most linnatural.
Glo.Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both. O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death! Anne. I would I were, to be revenged on thee. O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his death! Glo. It is a quarrel most unnatural, Either, Heaven, with lightning strike the murderer To be revenged on him that loveth thee. dead,
Anne. It is a quarrel just and reasonable, Or, earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick; To be revenged on him that kill'd my husband. As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood,
Glo. He that bereti thee, lady, of thy husband, Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered! Did it to help thee to a better husband. Glo. Lady, you know no rules of charity,
Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
earth. Anne. Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor Glo. He lives, that loves you better than he could. man :
Anne. Name him. No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity.
Plantagenet. Glo. But I know none, and therefore am no bcast. Anne.
Why, that was he. Anne. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth! Glo. The self-same name, butone of better nature.
Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so angry.- Anne. Where is he? Vouchsate, divine perfection of a woman,
Here: (She spits at him.] Why Of these supposed evils, to give me leave,
dost thou spit at ine? By circumstance, but to acquit myself.
Anne. 'Would it were mortal poison, for thy Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man,
sake! For these known evils, but to give me leave,
Glo. Never came poison from so sweet a place. By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self.
Anne. Never hung poison on a fouler toad. Glo. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me
Out of my sight! thou dost infect mine eyes. have
Glo. Tline eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. Some patient leisure to excuse myself.
Anne. 'Would they were basilisks, to strike thee Anne. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou
dead! canst make
Glo. I would they were, that I might die at once; No excuse current but to hang thyself.
For now they kill ine with a living death. Glo. By such despair, I should accuse myself. Those eyes of thine from mine hath drawn salt Anne. And, by despairing, shalt thou stand ex
Shamed their aspécts with store of childish drops: For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,
These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear,That didst unworthy slaughter others,
Nor when my father York and Edward wept, Glo. Say, that I slew them not?
To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made, Anne.
Why, then, they are not dead : When black-laced Clifford shook his sword at him; But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.
Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, Glo. I did not kill your husband.
Told the sad story of my father's death; Anne.
Why, then, he is alive. And twenty times made pause, to sob and weep, Glo. Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks, Anne. In thy soul's throat thou liest: queen
Like trees bedash'd with rain: in that sad time, Margaret saw
My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear: Thy murd'rous falchion smoking in his blood; And what these sorrows could not hence exhale, The which thou once didst bend ayainst her breast, Thy beauty hain, and made them blind with weepBut that thy brothers beat aside the point.
ing. Gl. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue,
I never sued to friend, nor enemy; That laid
their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. My tongue could never learn sweet soothing word, Anne. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind, My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to
But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee,
speak. (She looks scornfully at him. Glo.
I grant ye.
Teach not thy lip such scorn; for it was made Anne. Dost grant me, hedge-hog? then God
For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. grant me too,
If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deed!
Lo! here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; 0, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous,
Which if thou please to hide in this true breast, Glo.The litter for the King of heaven that hath him.
And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never
I lay il naked to the deadly stroke, come.
And humbly beg the death upon my knee. Glo. Let him thank me, that holp to send him
[He lays his Breast open; she offers at it thither;
with his Sword. For he was fitter for that place, than earth.
Nay, do not pause; for I did kill king Henry ;- Myself to be a marvellous proper man.
l'll be at charges for a looking-glass; Nay, now despatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Ed. And entertain a score or two of tailors,
ward ;- She again offers at his Breast. To study fashions to adorn my body; But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. Since I am crept in favor with myself,
[She lets fall the Sword. I will maintain it with some little cost. Take up the sword again, or take up me.
But, first, I'll turn yon fellow in his grave;
Shine out, tair sun, till I have bought a glass, Glo. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. That I may see my shadow as I pass
(Exit Anne. I have already. Glo. That was in thy rage:
SCENE III.-A Room in the Pulace. Speak it again, and, even with the word,
Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, LORD RIVERS, and LORD This hand, which for thy love, did kill thy love,
GREY. Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love;
Riv. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary.
his majesty Anne. I would, I knew thy heart.
Will soon recover his accustom'd health. Glo. 'Tis figur'd in my tongue.
Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him Anne. I fear me, both are false.
worse : Glo. Then man was never true.
Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, Anne. Weil, well, put up your sword.
And cheer his grace with quick and merry words: Glo. Say then, my peace is made.
Q. Eliz. If he were dead, what would betide of Anne. That shall you know hereafter.
me? Glo. But shall I live in hope?
Grey. No other harm, but loss of such a lord. Anne. All men, I hope, live so.
Q. Eliz The loss otsuch a lord includes all harms. Glo. Vouchsate to wear this ring.
Grey. The heavens have biess'd you with a Anne. To take, is not to give.
goodly son, (She puts on the Ring. To be your comforter, when he is gone. Glo. Look, how this ring encompasseth thy Q. Eliz. Ah, he is young; and his minority tinger,
Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloster, Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; A man that loves not me, nor none of you. Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
Riv. Is it concluded, he shall be protector? And if thy poor devoted servant may
Q. Eliz. It is determin'd, not concluded yet: But beg one favor at thy gracious hand,
But so it must be, if the king miscarry.
Enter BUCKINGHAY and STANLEY.
Grey. Here come the lords of Buckingham and signs
Stanley: To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, Buck. Good time of day unto your royal grace! And presently repair to Crosby-place:
Stan. God make your majesty joyful as you Where-after I have solemnly interr'd,
have been! At Chertsey monast'ry this noble king,
Q. Eliz. The countess Richmond, good my lord And wet his grave with my repentant tears,
of Stanley, I will with all expedient duty see you.
To your good prayer will scarcely say-amen. For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you, Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife, Grant me this boon.
And loves not me, be you, good lord, assurd, Anne. With all my heart; and much it joys me I hate not you for her proud arrogance. too,
Slan. I do beseech you, either not believe To see you are become so penitent.
The envious slanders of her false accusers; Tressel, and Berkley, go along with me
Or, if she be accus'd on true report, Glo. Bid me farewell.
Bear with her weakness, which, I think, proceeds Anne.
'Tis more than you deserve; From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. But, since you teach me how to flatter you,
Q. Eliz. Saw you the king to-day, my lord of Imagine I have said farewell already.
Stanley (Exeunt Lady ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKLEY. Stan. But now the duke of Buckingham, and I, Glo. Take up the corse, sirs.
Are come from visiting his majesty.
Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment, Glo. No, to White Friars; there attend my com
lords? ing. (Exeunt the rest, with the Corpse. Buck. Madam, good hope; his grace speaks Was ever woman in this huinor woo'd ?
cheerfully. Was ever woman in this humor won ?
Q. Eliz. God grant him health! Did you confer l'll have her,-but I will not keep her long.
with him? What! I, that kill'd her husband, and his father,
Buck. Ay, madam, he desires to make atonement To take her in her heart's extremest hate;
Between the duke of Gloster and your brothers, With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,
And between them and my lord chamberlain; The bleeding witness of her hatred by; With God, her conscience, and these bars against And sent to warn them to his royal presence.
Q. Eliz. Would all were well!-But that will me,
never be ; And I no friends to back my suit withal,
I fear, our happiness is at the height.
Enter GLOSTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET.
Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
it. Edward, her lord, whom I some three months since Who are they, that complain unto the king, Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not? A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,
By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly, Framed in the prodigality of nature,
That fill his ears with such dissentious rumors. Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal,- Because I cannot flatter, and speak fair, The spacious world cannot again afford :
Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, And will she yet abase her eyes on me,
Duck with French nods, and a pish courtesy, That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet I must be held a rancorous enemy. prince,
Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm, And made her widow to a woful bed?
But thus his simple truth must be abus'd On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety ?
By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks ?9 On me, that halt, and am misshapen thus?
Grey. To whom, in all this presence speaks your My dukedom to a beggarly dernier,8
grace? I do mistake my person all this while:
Gło. To thee, that hast nor honesty, nor grace. Upon my life, she tinds, although I cannot, When bave I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong? • In Bishopgate-streut. • A small French coin.
• Low fellows.