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. First Murderer What we will do, we do upon command. Second Murderer And he that hath commanded is the king. CLARENCE Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings Hath in the tables 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. Second Murderer 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. First Murderer 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. Second Murderer Whom thou wert sworn to cherish and defend. First Murderer How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us, When thou hast broke it in so dear degree? CLARENCE Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed?
For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: Why, sirs, He sends ye not to murder me for this For in this sin he is as deep as I.
If God will be revenged for this deed.
O, know you yet, 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. First Murderer Who made thee, then, a bloody minister, When gallant-springing brave Plantagenet, That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? CLARENCE My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. First Murderer Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault, Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee. CLARENCE Oh, if you love my brother, hate not me;
I am his brother, and I love him well.
If you be hired for meed, go back again, And I will send you to my brother Gloucester, Who shall reward you better for my life Than Edward will for tidings of my death. Second Murderer You are deceived, your brother Gloucester hates you. CLARENCE O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear:
Go you to him from me. Both Ay, so we will. CLARENCE 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 Gloucester think of this, and he will weep. First Murderer Ay, millstones; as be lesson'd us to weep. CLARENCE O, do not slander him, for he is kind. First Murderer Right, As snow in harvest. Thou deceivest thyself:
'Tis he that sent us hither now to slaughter thee. CLARENCE It cannot be; for when I parted with him, He hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs, That he would labour my delivery. Second Murderer Why, so he doth, now he delivers thee From this world's thraldom to the joys of heaven. First Murderer Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. CLARENCE 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. Second Murderer What shall we do? CLARENCE Relent, and save your souls. First Murderer Relent! 'tis cowardly and womanish. CLARENCE 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? Second Murderer Look behind you, my lord. First Murderer 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 Second Murderer A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch'd!
How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands Of this most grievous guilty murder done!
Re-enter First Murderer First Murderer How now! what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not?
By heavens, the duke shall know how slack thou art! Second Murderer 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 First Murderer So do not I: go, coward as thou art.
Now must I hide his body in some hole, Until the duke take order for his burial:
And when I have my meed, I must away;
For this will out, and here I must not stay.