7 KING RICHARD THE THIRD. ACT I. SCENE I. London. A Street. Enter GLOSTER. Gloster. Now is the winter of our discontent Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I,-that am not shaped for sportive tricks, I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty, 1 The cognizance of Edward IV. was a sun, in memory of the three suns which are said to have appeared at the battle which he gained over the Lancastrians at Mortimer's Cross. 2 Dances. 3 i. e. steeds caparisoned or clothed in the trappings of war. The word is properly barded, from equus bardatus, Latin of the middle ages. 4 Feature is proportion, or beauty, in general. By dissembling is not meant hypocritical nature, but nature that puts together things of a dissimilar kind, as a brave soul and a deformed body. Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time. That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them;- Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.1 Dive, thoughts, down to my soul! here Clarence comes Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY. Brother, good day. What means this armed guard, That waits upon your grace? Clar. His majesty, Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed This conduct to convey me to the Tower. Glo. Upon what cause? Clar. Because my name is-George. O, belike, his majesty hath some intent, 1 This is from Holinshed. As yet I do not. But, as I can learn, And, for my name of George begins with G, Glo. Why, this it is, when men are ruled by women. 'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower; Was it not she, and that good man of worship, That made him send lord Hastings to the Tower; Clar. By Heaven, I think there is no man secure, The jealous, o'er-worn widow, and herself,1 Are mighty gossips in this monarchy. Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon me; His majesty hath straitly given in charge, That no man shall have private conference, Glo. Even so? An please your worship, Brakenbury You may partake of any thing we say. We speak no treason, man.-We say, the king A bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; And that the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks. 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, 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. Were it to call king Edward's widow-sister,- Mean time, this deep disgrace in brotherhood, Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well. 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 Psalnı 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. 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? 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. 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.1 1 Lady Anne, the betrothed widow of Edward prince of Wales. See King Henry VI. Part III. |