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Who cry'd aloud, -What scourge for perjury
me, and howled in mine ears
Brak. No marvel, lord, though it affrighted you ! I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.
Clar. O, Brakenbury, I have done these things That now give evidence against my soul,For Edward's sake; and, see, how he requites me! O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee, But thou wilt be aveng’d on my misdeeds, Yet execute thy wrath on me alone : O, spare my guiltless wife, and my poor children! I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me; My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. Brak. I will, my lord; God give your grace good
[CLARENCE reposes himself on a Chair. Sorrow breaks seasons, and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night. Princes have but their titles for their glories,
An outward honour for an inward toil ;
Enter the Two Murderers.
1 Murd. Ho! who's here? Brak. What would'st thou, fellow ? and how
cam'st thou hither ? 1 Murd. I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs.
Brak. What, so brief?
Let him see our commission; talk no more.
[A Paper is delivered to BRAKENBURY, whu
1 Murd. You may, sir; 'tis a point of wisdom: Fare you well.
[Exit BRAKENBURY, 2 Murd. What, shall we stab him as he sleeps ?
1 Murd. No; he'll say, 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes.
2 Murd. When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake until the great judgment day.
1 Múrd. Why, then he'll say, we stabb’d him sleeping
2 Murd. The urging of that word, judgment, hath bred a kind of remorse in me.
1 Murd. What ? art thou afraid?
2 Murd. Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be damn’d for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend me.
1 Murd. I thought, thou had'st been resolute. 2 Murd. So I am, to let him live. 1 Murd. I'll back to the duke of Gloster, and tell
2 Murd. Nay, I pr’ythee, stay a little : I hope, this holy humour of mine will change ; it was wont to hold me but while one would tell twenty.
1 Murd. How dost thou feel thyself now?
2 Murd. 'Faith some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me.
1 Murd. Remember our reward, when the deed's done.
2 Murd. Come, he dies; I had forgot the reward. 1 Murd. Where's thy conscience now? 2 Murd. In the duke of Gloster's purse.
1 Murd. So when he opens his purse to give us our reward, thy conscience flies out.
2 Murd. 'Tis no matter ; let it go ; there's few, or none, will entertain it.
1 Murd. What, if it come to thee again?
2 Murd. I'll not meddle with it, it is a dangerous thing, it makes a man a coward; a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him; a man cannot swear, but it checks him ; a man cannot lie with his neighbour's
wife, but it detects him: "Tis a blushing shamefaced spirit, that mutinies in a man's bosom ; it fills one full of obstacles : it made me once restore a purse of gold, that by chance I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it is turned out of all towns and cities for a dangerous thing; and every man, that means to live well, endeavours to trust to himself, and live without it.
1 Murd. 'Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me not to kill the duke.
2 Murd. Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him not: he would insinuate with thee, but to make thee sigh.
1 Murd. I am strong-fram'd, he cannot prevail
2 Murd, Spoke like a talls fellow, that respects his reputation. Come, shall we fall to work ?
1 Murd. Take him over the costard“ with the hilts of thy sword, and then throw him into the malmsey-butt, in the next room.
2 Murd. O excellent device! and make a sop of him.
1 Murd. Soft ! he wakes.
Clar. But not, as I am, royal. 1 Murd. Nor you, as we are, loyal. Clar. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. 1 Murd. My voice is now the king's, my looks
mine own. Clar. How darkly, and how deadly dost thou speak! Your eyes
do menace me: Why look you pale ? Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come?
Both Murd. To, to, to,
Clar. You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so.
1 Murd. Offended us you have not, but the king. Clar. I shall be reconcil'd to him again. 2 Murd. Never, my lord ; therefore prepare to die.
Clar. Are you call’d forth from out a world of men, To slay the innocent ? What is my offence ? Where is the evidence that doth accuse me? What lawful quest? have given their verdict up Unto the frowning judge ? or who pronounc'd The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? • Before I be convict by course of law, To threaten me with death is most unlawful. I charge you, as you hope for any goodness, By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins, That you depart, and lay no hands on me; The deed you undertake is damnable.
1 Murd. What we will do, we do upon command.
7 Inquest, jury.