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.

1 Murd. What we will do, we do upon command. 2 Murd. And he that hath commanded is our king.

Clar. Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings, Hath in the table of his law commanded,

That thou shalt do no murder: And wilt thou then
Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's?

Take heed! for he holds vengeance in his hands,
To hurl upon their heads that break his law.

2 Murd. And that same vengeance doth he hurl on

thee,

For false forswearing, and for murder too:

Thou didst receive the holy sacrament, to fight
In quarrel of the house of Lancaster.

1 Murd. 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 Murd. Whom thou wast sworn to cherish and defend.

N

1 Murd. How canst thou urge God's dreadful law

to us,

When thou hast broke it in such dire degree?

Clar. 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 avenged for the deed,
O know you that he doth it publicly:
Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm;
He needs no indirect nor lawless course,

To cut off those that have offended him.

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

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

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

Clar. 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 Gloster,
Who shall reward you better for my life,
Than Edward will for tidings of my death,

2 Murd. You are deceived; your brother Gloster hates you.

Clar. O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear;

Go you to him from me.

Both Murd. Ay, so we will.

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

1 Murd. Ay, mill-stones; as he lesson'd us to weep, Clar. O, do not slander him, for he is kind.

1 Murd. Right, as snow in harvest.-Come, you deceive yourself;

'Tis he that sends us to destroy you here.

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

2 Murd. Why, so he doth, when he delivers you
From this earth's thraldom to the joys of Heaven.

1 Murd. Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord.

Clar. Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul
To counsel me to make my peace with God,
And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind,
That thou wilt war with God by murdering me?
Ah, sirs, consider, he that set you on

To do this deed, will hate you for the deed.

2 Murd. What shall we do?

Clar. Relent, and save your souls.

1 Murd. Relent! 'tis cowardly and womanish.
Clar. Not to relent, is beastly, savage, devilish,
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?

My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks;
O, if thine eye be not a flatterer,

Come thou on my side, and entreat for me,
As you would beg, were you in my distress:
A begging prince what beggar pities not?

2 Murd. Look behind you, my lord.

1 Murd. Take that, and that; if all this will not do,

(Stabs him.)

I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within.

(Exit with the body.)

2 Murd. A bloody deed, and desperately despatch'd! How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands

Of this most grievous guilty murder done!

Re-enter first Murderer.

1 Murd. How now? what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not?

By Heavens, the duke shall know how slack you have

been.

2 Murd. I would he knew, that I had saved his brother!

Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say;

For I repent me that the duke is slain. (Exit.)

1 Murd. So shall not I; go, coward, as thou art.— Well, I'll go hide the body in some hole,

Till that the duke give order for the burial:
And when I have my meed, I will away;

For this will out, and here I must not stay. (Exit.)

EDWARD THE FOURTH'S REMORSE ON THE DEATH OF CLARENCE.

It may here be premised that King Edward was requested by Lord Stanley to pardon one of his servants who had slain a gentleman lately in attendance on the Duke of Norfolk. Hence, the following language which Shakspere puts into the mouth of the King, will be better understood, and more especially, when we consider that the monarch had hoped that the order for the death of Clarence was reversed.

K. E. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death,
And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave?
My brother kill'd no man, his fault was thought,
And yet his punishment was bitter death.
Who sued to me for him? who, in my wrath,