Bra.
Why looks your grace so heavily to-day?

Cla.
O, I have pass'd a miserable night,
So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, ^note

That, as I am a christian faithful man,
I would not spend another such a night,
Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days;
So full of dismal terror was the time.

Bra.
What was your dream, my lord? I pray you, tell me. ^note

Cla.
Methoughts, that I had broken from the tower ^note,
And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy;
And, in my company, my brother Gloster:
Who from my cabin tempted me to walk
Upon the hatches; thence ^note we look'd ^note toward ^note England,
And cited up a thousand heavy times ^note,
During the wars of York and Lancaster
That had befall'n us. As we ^note pac'd ^note along
Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
Methought, that Gloster stumbl'd ^note; and, in falling,
Strook ^note me (that thought to stay him) over-board,
Into the tumbling billows of the main.
O Lord ^note! methought, what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of water ^note in mine ears!
What sights ^note of ugly death ^note within mine eyes!
Methought ^note, I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
A thousand ^note men, that fishes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalu'd jewels,
All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea: ^note
Some lay in dead men's sculls; and, in those holes ^note
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept
(As 'twere ^note in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems,
That woo'd ^note the slimy bottom of the deep,
And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.

Bra.
Had you such leisure in the time of death,
To gaze upon these secrets ^note of the deep?

Cla.
Methought, I had; and often did I strive ^note
To yield the ghost: but still ^note the envious flood
Stop'd in ^note my soul, and would not let it forth
To find the ^note empty, vast, and wand'ring air;
But smother'd it within my panting bulk,
Which almost ^note burst to belch it in the sea.

Bra.
Awak'd you not with this ^note fore agony?

Cla.
O, no, ^note my dream was lengthen'd after life;
O, then began the tempest to my ^note soul.
I pass'd ^note, methought, the melancholy flood,
With that sour ferry-man ^note which poets write of,
Unto the kingdom of perpetual night:
The first that there did greet my stranger ^note soul,
Was my great father-in-law, renowned ^note Warwick;
Who cry'd aloud ^note, What scourge for perjury
Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?
And so he vanish'd: Then came wand'ring by
A shadow like an angel, with bright ^note hair
Dabbl'd ^note in blood; and he shriek'd out aloud,
Clarence is come,—false, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence,—
That stab'd me in the field by Tewksbury ^note;—
Seize on him, furies, take him unto torment ^note.
With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends
Environ'd me, and ^note howled in mine ears
Such hideous cries, that, with the very noise,
I trembling wak'd, and, for a season after,
Could not believe but that I was in hell;
Such terrible impression made my dream ^note.

Bra.
No marvel, lord ^note, though it affrighted you;
I am afraid ^note, methinks, to hear you tell it.

Cla.
O, Brakenbury, I ^note have done these ^note things,—
That now give ^note evidence against my soul,—

For Edward's sake; and, see, how he requites ^note me!
I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me; [retiring to a Chair.
My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.

Bra.
I will, my lord; God give your grace good rest!—
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;
And, for unfelt imaginations ^note,
They often feel a world of restless cares:
So that, between ^note their titles ^note, and low name ^note,
There's nothing differs but the outward fame. Enter the two Murtherers.

1. M.

Ho! who's here? ^note

Bra.

What would'st thou, fellow? and how cam'st thou ^note hither?

1. M.

I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs.

Bra.

What, so ^note brief?

2. M.
O, sir, it is better be ^note brief than tedious:—
Shew him our commission, talk ^note no more. [Brakenbury receives a Paper, and reads it.

Bra.
I am, in this, commanded to deliver
The noble duke of Clarence to your hands:—
I will not reason what is meant hereby ^note,
Because I will be guiltless of the ^note meaning.
Here are &dagger2; the keys; there † sits the duke asleep ^note:
I'll to the king; and signify to him, ^note
That thus I have resign'd to you my charge ^note.

1. M.

You may, sir; 'tis a point of wisdom: Fare you ^note well.

2. M.

What, shall we stab ^note him as he sleeps?

1. M.

No; he'll ^note say, 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes.

2. M.

When he ^note wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake 'till the judgment ^note day.

1. M.

Why, then he'll say, we stab'd him sleeping.

2. M.

The urging of that word, judgment, hath bred a kind of remorse in me.

1. M.

What, art afraid ^note?

2. M.

Not to kill him, having a warrant for it ^note; but to be damn'd for killing him, from the which ^note no warrant can defend me. ^note

1. M.

I thought, thou hadst been resolute.

2. M.

So I am, to let him live.

1. M.

I'll back to the duke of Gloster, and ^note tell him so.

2. M.

Nay, I pry'thee, stay a little: I hope ^note, this compassionate humour of mine will change; 'twas wont to hold me but while one tells ^note twenty.

1. M.

How dost thou feel thyself now?

2. M.

Some ^note certain dregs of conscience are yet within me.

1. M.

Remember our reward, when the deed's done.

2. M.

Come, he ^note dies; I had forgot the reward.

1. M.

Where's thy conscience now?

2. M.

In ^note the duke of Gloster's purse,

1. M.

So ^note, when he opens his purse to give us our reward, thy conscience flies out.

2. M.

'Tis no matter ^note; let it go ^note; there's few, or none, will entertain it.

1. M.

What, if ^note it come to thee again?

2. M.

I'll not meddle with it, it makes ^note a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him; ^note a man cannot swear, but it checks him; ^note a man cannot lye with his neighbour's wife, but it detects him: 'Tis a

blushing shame-fac'd ^note spirit, that mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills a man full ^note of obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of ^note gold, that by chance ^note I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it is turn'd out of all ^note towns and cities for a dangerous thing; and every man, that means to live well, endeavours ^note to trust to himself, and live ^note without it.

1. M.

'Zouns ^note, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me not to kill the duke.

2. M.

Shake the devil out of thy ^note mind, and believe him not: he would insinuate with thee, but ^note to make thee sigh.

1. M.

I am strong-fram'd, he cannot prevail with me. ^note

2. M.

Spoke like ^note a tall fellow, that ^note respects ^note his reputation. Come, shall we fall to work? ^note

1. M.

Take him over the ^note costard with the hilts of thy ^note sword, and then throw him into the ^note malmsey-but in the next room.

2. M.

O excellent device! and ^note make a sop of him.

1. M.

Soft, he wakes. ^note

2. M.

Strike.

1. M.

No, we'll reason with him.

Cla.
Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine.

1. M.
You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. ^note

Cla.
In God's name, what art thou?

1. M.

A man, as you are. ^note

Cla.
But not, as I am, royal.

1. M.
Nor you, as we are, loyal. ^note

Cla.
Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble.

1. M.
My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own. ^note

Cla.
How darkly, and how deadly dost thou speak!
Your eyes do menace me: Why look you pale? ^note

Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come?

2. M.
To, to, to, ^note— ^note

Cla.
To murther me?

1. 2.
Ay, ay. ^note

Cla.
You scarcely ^note have the hearts ^note to tell me so,
And therefore cannot have the hearts ^note to do it.
Wherein, my friends, have I offended you?

1. M.
Offended us you have not, but the king.

Cla.
I shall be reconcil'd to him again.

2. M.
Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die,

Cla.
Are you drawn forth among a ^note world of men,
To slay the innocent? What is my offence?
Where is the ^note evidence that doth accuse ^note me?
What lawful quest have given ^note 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 ^note for any goodness,
That you depart, and lay no hands ^note on me;
The deed you undertake is damnable.

1. M.
What we will do, we do upon command.

2. M.
And he, that hath commanded, is ^note our king.

Cla.
Erroneous vassal ^note! the great King of kings
Hath in the table ^note of his law commanded,
That thou shalt ^note do no murther; Wilt thou ^note then
Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's?
Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hand ^note,
To hurl upon their heads that break his law.

2. M.
And that same vengeance doth he hurl on ^note thee,
For false forswearing, and for murther too:
Thou didst receive the sacrament, ^note to fight

In quarrel ^note of the house of Lancaster.

1. M.
And, like a traitor to the name of God,
Didst break that vow; and, with thy treacherous blade,
Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son:

2. M.
Whom thou wast sworn ^note to cherish and defend.

1. M.
How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us,
When thou hast broke it in such dear ^note degree?

Cla.
Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed?
For Edward, for my brother, for his sake:
He ^note sends you not to murther me for this;
For in that sin ^note he is as deep as I.
If God will be avenged for the deed ^note,
O, know you yet, he doth it publickly; ^note
Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm;
He needs no indirect nor ^note lawless course,
To cut off those that have offended him.

1. M.
Who made thee then a bloody minister,
When gallant-springing ^note brave Plantagenet,
That princely ^note novice, was struck dead by thee?

Cla.
My brother's love, the devil, and my rage.

1. M.
Thy brother's love, our duty, and ^note thy fault ^note,
Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee ^note.

Cla.
If you do love my ^note brother, hate not me;
I am his brother, and I love him well.
If you are hir'd for meed ^note, go back again,
And I will send you to my brother Gloster;
Who shall ^note reward you better for my life,
Than Edward will for tidings of my death.

2. M.
You are deceiv'd, your brother Gloster hates you.

Cla.
O, no; he loves me, and he holds me dear:
Go you to him from me.

1. M.
Ay, so we will. ^note

Cla.
Tell him, when that our princely father York
Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm,
And charg'd us from his soul to love each other, ^note
He little thought of this divided friendship:
Bid Gloster think on this ^note, and he will weep.

1. M.
Ay, mil-stones; as he lesson'd us to weep. ^note

Cla.
O, do not slander him, for he is kind.

1. M.
Right, as snow in harvest. Come, you deceive yourself; ^note
'Tis he that sends us to destroy you here. ^note

Cla.
It cannot be; for he bewept my fortune, ^note
And hug'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs,
That he would labour my delivery.

1. M.
Why, so he doth, when he delivers you ^note
From this earth's ^note thraldom to the joys of heaven.

2. M.
Make ^note peace with God, for you must die, my lord.

Cla.
Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul ^note,
To counsel me to make my peace with God,
And art thou yet to thy own soul ^note so blind,
That thou wilt ^note war with God by murd'ring ^note me?—
Ah, sirs, consider, he, that ^note set you on
To do this deed, will hate you for the deed ^note.

2. M.
What shall we do?

Cla.
Relent, and save your souls. ^note

1. M.
Relent! 'tis cowardly, and womanish.

Cla.
Not to relent, is beastly, savage, dev'lish ^note.—
My friend ^note, I spy some pity in thy looks;
O, if thine eye ^note be not a flatterer,
Come thou on my side, and entreat for me:
A begging prince what beggar pities not? ^note

1. M.
Ay, thus, and thus; [stabbing him.] and, if this will not serve,
I'll drown you in the malmsey ^note-but within.

2. M.
A bloody deed, and desp'rately dispatch'd ^note!
How fain, like Pilate ^note, would I wash my hands ^note
Of this most grievous murther? ^note

1. M.
How now? what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not? ^note
By heaven, the duke shall know how slack you have been.

2. M.
I would he knew, that I had sav'd his brother!
Take thou the see, and tell him what I say;
For I repent me that the duke is slain. [Exit.

1. M.
So do not I; go, coward as thou art.—
Well, I'll go hide the body ^note in some hole,
'Till that the duke give ^note order for his burial:
And when I have my meed, I will away ^note;
For this will out, and then I ^note must not stay. [Exit, with the Body.

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