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For my past crimes my forfeit life receive;
[Exit J. Shore, guarded by Catesby and others. Glost. So much for this. Your project's at an end.
Rat. The council waits
Glost. Bid them enter.
Enter the Duke of BUCKINGHAM, Earl of Derby,
Bishop of Ely, Lord HASTINGS, and others as to the
Derb. In happy times we are assembled here,
Hast. Some busy meddling knaves, 'tis said, there are,
Glost. My lords, a set of worthy men you are, Prudent and just, and careful for the state; Therefore, to your most grave determination I yield myself in all things; and demand What punishment your wisdom shall think meet T'inflict upon those damnable contrivers, Who shall with potions, charms, and witching drugs, Practise against our person and our life? Hast. So much I hold the king your highness'
debtor, So precious are you to the common-weal, That I presume, not only for myseli, But in behalf of these my noble brothers, To say, whoe'er they be, they merit death, Glost. Then judge yourselves, convince your eyes
of truth : ? Behold my arm, thus blasted, dry, and wither'd,
[Pulling up his sleeves. Shrunk like a foul abortion, and decay'd, Like some untimely product of the seasons. Robb’d of its properties of strength and office. This is the sorcery of Edward's wite, Who, in conjunction with that harlot Shore, And other like confed’rate midnight hags, By force of potent spells, of bloody characters, And conjurations horrible to hear, Call fiends and spectres ffom the yawning deep, And set the ministers of hell at work, To torture and despoil me of my life.
Hast. If they have done this deed
Glost. If they have done it! Talk'st thou to me of It's, audacious traitor! Thou art that strumpet witch's chief abettor, The patron and complotter of her mischiefs, And join'd in this contrivance for my death. Nay start not, lords-What ho! a guard there, Sirs !
[Exeunt GLOSTEK, and the Lords following.
Manent Lord HASTINGS, RATCLIFFE, and Guards. Hast. What! and no more but this-How ! to the
scaffold: Oh, gentle Ratcliffe ! tell me, do I hold thee? Or if I dream, what shall I do to wake, To break, to struggle thro' this dread confusion? For surely death itself is not so painful As is this sudden horror and surprise. Rat. You heard, the duke's commands to me were
absolute. Therefore, my lord, address you to your shrift, With all good speed you may. Summon your courage, And be yourself; for you must die this instant.
Hast. Yes, Ratcliffe, I will take thy friendly counsel
And die as a man should; 'tis somewhat hard,
Alic. Stop a minute-
Hast. What means thy frantic grief?
Alić. I cannot speak
Hast. Speak and give ease to thy conflicting passion,
Alic. That, that's my grief-'tis I that urge
Alic. Thy cruel scorn hath stung me to the heart,
“ Hast. Accursed jealousy!