We speak no treason, man.-We say, the king
Is wise and virtuous; and his noble queen
Well struck in years; fair, and not jealous.
We say, that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
A cherry lip,

A bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue;

And that the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks.
How say you, sir? can you deny all this?

Brak. With this, my lord, myself have nought to do. Glo. Naught to do with mistress Shore? I 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,1 and must obey.
Brother, farewell. I will unto the king;
And whatsoever you will employ me in,—

Were it to call king Edward's widow-sister,—
I will perform it to enfranchise you.

Mean time, this deep disgrace in brotherhood,
Touches me deeper than you can imagine.

Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
Glo. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long,
I will deliver you, or else lie for you.2

Mean time, have patience.

Clar.

I must perforce; farewell. [Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard.

Glo. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return, Simple, plain Clarence!-I do love thee so,

That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven,

1 i. e. the lowest of her subjects. This substantive is found in Psalmı XXXV. 15.

2 He means," or else be imprisoned in your stead." To lie signified anciently to reside, or remain in a place.

If heaven will take the present at our hands.
But who comes here? the new-delivered Hastings?

Enter HASTINGS.

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.

How hath your lordship brooked imprisonment?
Hast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must;
But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks,
That were the cause of my imprisonment.

Glo. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; For they, that were your enemies, are his,

And have prevailed as much on him, as you.

Hast. More pity that the eagle should be mewed, 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 over-much consumed 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.

[Exit HASTINGS.

He cannot live, I hope; and must not die

Till George be packed with post-horse up to heaven.
I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
With lies well steeled with weighty arguments;
And, if I fail not in my deep intent,
Clarence hath not another day to live;

Which done, God take king Edward to his mercy,
And leave the world for me to bustle in!

For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.1

1 Lady Anne, the betrothed widow of Edward prince of Wales. See King Henry VI. Part III.

What though I killed 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 love,
As for another secret, close intent,

But

By marrying her, which I must reach unto.
yet I run before my horse to market;
Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns;
When they are gone, then must I count my gains.

SCENE II. The same. Another Street.

[Exit.

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 honorable load,If honor may be shrouded in a hearse,Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament The untimely fall of virtuous LancasterPoor key-cold' figure of a holy king! Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster! Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood! Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost, To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,

Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son,

Stabbed by the self-same hand that made these wounds!

Lo, in these windows, that let forth thy life,

I

pour the helpless balm of my poor 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 direful hap betide that hated wretch,
That makes us wretched by the death of thee,
Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,

1 A key, on account of the coldness of the metal of which it is composed, was often employed to stop any slight bleeding. The epithet is common to many old writers.