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I will perform it to enfranchise you.
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Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood
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Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
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CLARENCE:
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I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
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GLOUCESTER:
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Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;
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Meantime, have patience.
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CLARENCE:
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I must perforce. Farewell.
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GLOUCESTER:
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Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return.
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Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so,
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That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven,
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If heaven will take the present at our hands.
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But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings?
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HASTINGS:
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Good time of day unto my gracious lord!
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GLOUCESTER:
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As much unto my good lord chamberlain!
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Well are you welcome to the open air.
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How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?
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HASTINGS:
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With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must:
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But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks
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That were the cause of my imprisonment.
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GLOUCESTER:
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No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too;
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For they that were your enemies are his,
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And have prevail'd as much on him as you.
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HASTINGS:
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More pity that the eagle should be mew'd,
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While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.
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GLOUCESTER:
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What news abroad?
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HASTINGS:
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No news so bad abroad as this at home;
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The King is sickly, weak and melancholy,
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And his physicians fear him mightily.
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GLOUCESTER:
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Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed.
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O, he hath kept an evil diet long,
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And overmuch consumed his royal person:
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'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.
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What, is he in his bed?
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HASTINGS:
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He is.
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GLOUCESTER:
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Go you before, and I will follow you.
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He cannot live, I hope; and must not die
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Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven.
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I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
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With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments;
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And, if I fall not in my deep intent,
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Clarence hath not another day to live:
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Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,
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And leave the world for me to bustle in!
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For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.
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What though I kill'd her husband and her father?
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The readiest way to make the wench amends
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Is to become her husband and her father:
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The which will I; not all so much for love
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As for another secret close intent,
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By marrying her which I must reach unto.
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But yet I run before my horse to market:
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Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns:
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When they are gone, then must I count my gains.
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LADY ANNE:
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Set down, set down your honourable load,
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If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,
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Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament
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The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
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Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!
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Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!
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Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
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Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost,
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To hear the lamentations of Poor Anne,
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Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son,
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Stabb'd by the selfsame hand that made these wounds!
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Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life,
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I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.
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Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes!
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Cursed be the heart that had the heart to do it!
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Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence!
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More direful hap betide that hated wretch,
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