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I'll not believe but they ascend the sky, |
And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. |
O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog! |
Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites, |
His venom tooth will rankle to the death: |
Have not to do with him, beware of him; |
Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him, |
And all their ministers attend on him. |
GLOUCESTER: |
What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham? |
BUCKINGHAM: |
Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. |
QUEEN MARGARET: |
What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel? |
And soothe the devil that I warn thee from? |
O, but remember this another day, |
When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow, |
And say poor Margaret was a prophetess! |
Live each of you the subjects to his hate, |
And he to yours, and all of you to God's! |
HASTINGS: |
My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses. |
RIVERS: |
And so doth mine: I muse why she's at liberty. |
GLOUCESTER: |
I cannot blame her: by God's holy mother, |
She hath had too much wrong; and I repent |
My part thereof that I have done to her. |
QUEEN ELIZABETH: |
I never did her any, to my knowledge. |
GLOUCESTER: |
But you have all the vantage of her wrong. |
I was too hot to do somebody good, |
That is too cold in thinking of it now. |
Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid, |
He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains |
God pardon them that are the cause of it! |
RIVERS: |
A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion, |
To pray for them that have done scathe to us. |
GLOUCESTER: |
So do I ever: |
being well-advised. |
For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself. |
CATESBY: |
Madam, his majesty doth call for you, |
And for your grace; and you, my noble lords. |
QUEEN ELIZABETH: |
Catesby, we come. Lords, will you go with us? |
RIVERS: |
Madam, we will attend your grace. |
GLOUCESTER: |
I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. |
The secret mischiefs that I set abroach |
I lay unto the grievous charge of others. |
Clarence, whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness, |
I do beweep to many simple gulls |
Namely, to Hastings, Derby, Buckingham; |
And say it is the queen and her allies |
That stir the king against the duke my brother. |
Now, they believe it; and withal whet me |
To be revenged on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey: |
But then I sigh; and, with a piece of scripture, |
Tell them that God bids us do good for evil: |
And thus I clothe my naked villany |
With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ; |
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil. |
But, soft! here come my executioners. |
How now, my hardy, stout resolved mates! |
Are you now going to dispatch this deed? |
First Murderer: |
We are, my lord; and come to have the warrant |
That we may be admitted where he is. |
GLOUCESTER: |
Well thought upon; I have it here about me. |
When you have done, repair to Crosby Place. |
But, sirs, be sudden in the execution, |
Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead; |
For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps |
May move your hearts to pity if you mark him. |
First Murderer: |
Tush! |
Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate; |
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