2.txt

nd I fain would sleep .
I will , my lord . God give your Grace good rest .
Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours ,
Makes the night morning , and the noontide night .
Princes have but their titles for their glories ,
An outward honor for an inward toil ,
And , for unfelt imaginations ,
They often feel a world of restless cares ,
So that between their titles and low name
There’s nothing differs but the outward fame .
Ho , who’s here ?
What wouldst thou , fellow ? And how cam’st thou hither ?
I would speak with Clarence , and I came hither on my legs .
What , so brief ?
’Tis better , sir , than to be tedious . — Let him see our commission , and talk no more .
I am in this commanded to deliver
The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands .
I will not reason what is meant hereby
Because I will be guiltless from the meaning .
There lies the Duke asleep , and there the keys .
I’ll to the King and signify to him
That thus I have resigned to you my charge .
You may , sir . ’Tis a point of wisdom . Fare you well .
What , shall I stab him as he sleeps ?
No . He’ll say ’twas done cowardly , when he wakes .
Why , he shall never wake until the great Judgment Day .
Why , then he’ll say we stabbed him sleeping .
The urging of that word “ judgment ” hath bred a kind of remorse in me .
What , art thou afraid ?
Not to kill him , having a warrant , but to be damned for killing him , from the which no warrant can defend me .
I thought thou hadst been resolute .
So I am — to let him live .
I’ll back to the Duke of Gloucester and tell him so .
Nay , I prithee stay a little . I hope this passionate humor of mine will change . It was wont to hold me but while one tells twenty .
How dost thou feel thyself now ?
Faith , some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me .
Remember our reward when the deed’s done .
Zounds , he dies ! I had forgot the reward .
Where’s thy conscience now ?
O , in the Duke of Gloucester’s purse .
When he opens his purse to give us our reward , thy conscience flies out .
’Tis no matter . Let it go . There’s few or none will entertain it .
What if it come to thee again ?
I’ll not meddle with it . 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 neighbor’s wife but it detects him . ’Tis a blushing , shamefaced spirit that mutinies in a man’s bosom . It fills a man 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 towns and cities for a dangerous thing , and every man that means to live well endeavors to trust to himself and live without it .
Zounds , ’tis even now at my elbow , persuading me not to kill the Duke .
Take the devil in thy mind , and believe him not . He would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh .
I am strong-framed . He cannot prevail with me .
Spoke like a tall man that respects thy reputation . Come , shall we fall to work ?
Take him on the costard with the hilts of thy sword , and then throw him into the malmsey butt in the next room .
O , excellent device — and make a sop of him !
Soft , he wakes .
Strike !
No , we’ll reason with him .
Where art thou , keeper ? Give me a cup of wine .
You shall have wine enough , my lord , anon .
In God’s name , what art thou ?
A man , as you are .
But not , as I am , royal .
Nor you , as we are , loyal .
Thy voice is thunder , but thy looks are humble .
My voice is now the King’s , my looks mine own .
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 ?
To , to , to —
To murder me ?
Ay , ay .
You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so
And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it .
Wherein , my friends , have I offended you ?
Offended us you have not , but the King .
I shall be reconciled to him again .
Never , my lord . Therefore prepare to die .
Are you drawn forth among a world of men
To slay the innocent ? What is my offense ?
Where is the evidence that doth accuse me ?
What lawful quest have given their verdict up
Unto the frowning judge ? Or who pronounced
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 to have redemption ,
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 .
What we will do , we do upon command .
And he that hath commanded is our king .
Erroneous vassals , the great King of kings
Hath in the table of His law commanded
That thou shalt do no murder . Will you then
Spurn at His edict and fulfill a man’s ?
Take heed , for He holds vengeance in His hand
To hurl upon their heads that break His law .
And that same vengeance doth He hurl on thee
For false forswearing and for murder too .
Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight
In quarrel of the House of Lancaster .
And , like a traitor to the name of God ,
Didst break that vow , and with thy treacherous blade
Unrippedst the bowels of thy sovereign’s son .
Whom thou wast sworn to cherish and defend .
How canst thou urge God’s dreadful law to us
When thou hast broke it in such dear degree ?
Alas ! For whose sake did I that ill deed ?
For Edward , for my brother , for his sake .
He sends you not to murder me for this ,
For in that sin he is as deep as I .
If God will be avengèd for the deed ,
O , know you yet He doth it publicly !
Take not the quarrel from His powerful arm ;
He needs no indirect or lawless course
To cut off those that have offended Him .
Who made thee then a bloody minister
When gallant-springing , brave Plantagenet ,
That princely novice , was struck dead by thee ?
My brother’s love , the devil , and my rage .
Thy brother’s love , our duty , and thy faults
Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee .
If you do love my brother , hate not me .
I am his brother , and I love him well .
If you are hired for meed , go back again ,
And I will send you to my brother Gloucester ,
Who shall reward you better for my life
Than Edward will for tidings of my death .
You are deceived . Your brother Gloucester hates you .
O no , he loves me , and he holds me dear .
Go you to him from me .
Ay , so we will .
Tell him , when that our princely father York
Blessed his three sons with his victorious arm ,
He little thought of this divided friendship .
Bid Gloucester think of this , and he will weep .
Ay , millstones , as he lessoned us to weep .
O , do not slander him , for he is kind .
Right , as snow in harvest . Come , you deceive yourself .
’Tis he that sends us to destroy you here .
It cannot be , for he bewept my fortune ,
And hugged me in his arms , and swore with sobs
That he would labor my delivery .
Why , so he doth , when he delivers you
From this Earth’s thralldom to the joys of heaven .
Make peace with God , for you must die , my lord .
Have you that holy feeling in your souls
To counsel me to make my peace with God ,
And are you yet to your own souls so blind
That you will war with God by murd’ring me ?
O sirs , consider : they that set you on
To do this deed will hate you for the deed .
What shall we do ?
Relent , and save your souls .
Which of you — if you were a prince’s son
Being pent from liberty , as I am now —
If two such murderers as yourselves came to you ,
Would not entreat for life ? Ay , you would beg ,
Were you in my distress .
Relent ? No . ’Tis cowardly and wom