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Test3

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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;