CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY.]
Brother, good day: what means this armed guard That waits upon your grace?
CLARENCE. His majesty, Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed This conduct to convey me to the Tower.
GLOSTER. Upon what cause?
CLARENCE. Because my name is George.
GLOSTER. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours; He should, for that, commit your godfathers:-- O, belike his majesty hath some intent That you should be new-christen'd in the Tower. But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know?
CLARENCE. Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest As yet I do not: but, as I can learn, He hearkens after prophecies and dreams; And from the cross-row plucks the letter G, And says a wizard told him that by G His issue disinherited should be; And, for my name of George begins with G, It follows in his thought that I am he. These, as I learn, and such like toys as these, Hath mov'd his highness to commit me now.
GLOSTER. Why, this it is when men are rul'd by women:-- 'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower; My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she That tempers him to this extremity. Was it not she and that good man of worship, Antony Woodville, her brother there, That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower, From whence this present day he is deliver'd? We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe.
CLARENCE. By heaven, I think there is no man is secure But the queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds That trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore. Heard you not what an humble suppliant Lord Hastings was to her for his delivery?
GLOSTER. Humbly complaining to her deity Got my Lord Chamberlain his liberty. I'll tell you what,--I think it is our way, If we will keep in favour with the king, To be her men and wear her livery: The jealous o'er-worn widow, and herself, Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen, Are mighty gossips in our monarchy.
BRAKENBURY. I beseech your graces both to pardon me; His majesty hath straitly given in charge That no man shall have private conference, Of what degree soever, with your brother.
GLOSTER. Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury, You may partake of any thing we say: 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?
BRAKENBURY. With this, my lord, myself have naught to do.
GLOSTER. 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.
BRAKENBURY. What one, my lord?
GLOSTER. Her husband, knave:--wouldst thou betray me?
BRAKENBURY. I do beseech your grace to pardon me; and, withal, Forbear your conference with the noble duke.
CLARENCE. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.
GLOSTER. We are the queen's abjects and must obey.-- Brother, farewell: I will unto the king; And whatsoe'er you will employ me in,-- Were it to call King Edward's widow sister,-- I will perform it to enfranchise you. Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
CLARENCE. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
GLOSTER. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long; I will deliver or else lie for you: Meantime, have patience.
CLARENCE. I must perforce: farewell.
[Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and guard.]
GLOSTER. 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, If heaven will take the present at our hands.-- But who comes here? The new-delivered Hastings?
[Enter HASTINGS.]
HASTINGS. Good time of day unto my gracious lord!
GLOSTER. As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain! Well are you welcome to the open air. How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?
HASTINGS. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must; But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks That were the cause of my imprisonment.
GLOSTER. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; For they that were your enemies are his, And have prevail'd as much on him as you.
HASTINGS. More pity that the eagles should be mew'd Whiles kites and buzzards prey at liberty.
GLOSTER. What news abroad?
HASTINGS. No news so bad abroad as this at home,-- The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy, And his physicians fear him mightily.
GLOSTER. Now, by Saint Paul, that 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?
HASTINGS. He is.
GLOSTER. Go you before, and I will follow you.
[Exit HASTINGS.]
He cannot live, I
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