2 You are deceiu'd, Your Brother Glouster hates you

Cla. Oh no, he loues me, and he holds me deere: Go you to him from me

1 I so we will

Cla. Tell him, when that our Princely Father Yorke, Blest his three Sonnes with his victorious Arme, He little thought of this diuided Friendship: Bid Glouster thinke on this, and he will weepe

1 I Milstones, as he lessoned vs to weepe

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

1 Right, as Snow in Haruest: Come, you deceiue your selfe, 'Tis he that sends vs to destroy you heere

Cla. It cannot be, for he bewept my Fortune, And hugg'd me in his armes, and swore with sobs, That he would labour my deliuery

1 Why so he doth, when he deliuers you From this earths thraldome, to the ioyes of heauen

2 Make peace with God, for you must die my Lord

Cla. Haue you that holy feeling in your soules, To counsaile me to make my peace with God, And are you yet to your owne soules so blinde, That you will warre with God, by murd'ring me. O sirs consider, they that set you on To do this deede will hate you for the deede

2 What shall we do? Clar. Relent, and saue your soules: Which of you, if you were a Princes Sonne, Being pent from Liberty, as I am now, If two such murtherers as your selues came to you, Would not intreat for life, as you would begge Were you in my distresse

1 Relent? no: 'Tis cowardly and womanish

Cla. Not to relent, is beastly, sauage, diuellish: My Friend, I spy some pitty in thy lookes: O, if thine eye be not a Flatterer, Come thou on my side, and intreate for mee, A begging Prince, what begger pitties not

2 Looke behinde you, my Lord

1 Take that, and that, if all this will not do,

Stabs him.

Ile drowne you in the MalmeseyBut within. Enter.

2 A bloody deed, and desperately dispatcht: How faine (like Pilate) would I wash my hands Of this most greeuous murther.

Enter 1.Murtherer]

1 How now? what mean'st thou that thou help'st me not? By Heauen the Duke shall know how slacke you haue beene

2.Mur. I would he knew that I had sau'd his brother, Take thou the Fee, and tell him what I say, For I repent me that the Duke is slaine. Enter.

1.Mur. So do not I: go Coward as thou art. Well, Ile go hide the body in some hole, Till that the Duke giue order for his buriall: And when I haue my meede, I will away, For this will out, and then I must not stay.


William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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