851During the warres of Yorke and Lancaster

852That had befalne vs. As we pac'd along

853Vpon the giddy footing of the Hatches,

854Me thought that Glouster stumbled, and in falling

855Strooke me (that thought to stay him) ouer-boord,

856Into the tumbling billowes of the maine.

857O Lord, me thought what paine it was to drowne,

858What dreadfull noise of water in mine eares,

859What sights of vgly death within mine eyes.

860Me thoughts, I saw a thousand fearfull wrackes:

861A thousand men that Fishes gnaw'd vpon:

862Wedges of Gold, great Anchors, heapes of Pearle,

863Inestimable Stones, vnvalewed Iewels,

864All scattred in the bottome of the Sea,

865Some lay in dead-mens Sculles, and in the holes

866Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept

867(As 'twere in scorne of eyes) reflecting Gemmes,

868That woo'd the slimy bottome of the deepe,

869And mock'd the dead bones that lay scattred by.

870Keep. Had you such leysure in the time of death

871To gaze vpon these secrets of the deepe?

872Cla. Me thought I had, and often did I striue

873To yeeld the Ghost: but still the enuious Flood

874Stop'd in my soule, and would not let it forth

875To find the empty, vast, and wand'ring ayre:

876But smother'd it within my panting bulke,

877Who almost burst, to belch it in the Sea.

878Keep. Awak'd you not in this sore Agony?

879Clar. No, no, my Dreame was lengthen'd after life.

880O then, began the Tempest to my Soule.

881I past (me thought) the Melancholly Flood,

882With that sowre Ferry-man which Poets write of,

883Vnto the Kingdome of perpetuall Night.

884The first that there did greet my Stranger-soule,

885Was my great Father-in-Law, renowned Warwicke,

886Who spake alowd: What scourge for Periurie,

887Can this darke Monarchy affoord false Clarence?

888And so he vanish'd. Then came wand'ring by,

889A Shadow like an Angell, with bright hayre

890Dabbel'd in blood, and he shriek'd out alowd

891Clarence is come, false, fle eting, periur'd Clarence,

892That stabb'd me in the field by Tewkesbury:

893Seize on him Furies, take him vnto Torment.

894With that (me thought) a Legion of foule Fiends

895Inuiron'd me, and howled in mine eares

896Such hiddeous cries, that with the very Noise,

897I (trembling) wak'd, and for a season after,

898Could not beleeue, but that I was in Hell,

899Such terrible Impression made my Dreame.

900Keep. No maruell Lord, though it affrighted you,

901I am affraid (me thinkes) to heare you tell it.

902Cla. Ah Keeper, Keeper, I haue done these things

903(That now giue euidence against my Soule)

904For Edwards sake, and see how he requits mee.

905O God! if my deepe prayres cannot appease thee,

906But thou wilt be aueng'd on my misdeeds,

907Yet execute thy wrath in me alone:

908O spare my guiltlesse Wife, and my poore children.

909Keeper, I prythee sit by me a-while,

910My Soule is heauy, and I faine would sleepe.

911Keep. I will my Lord, God giue your Grace good rest.

913Bra. Sorrow breakes Seasons, and reposing houres,

914Makes the Night Morning, and the Noon-tide night:

915Princes haue but their Titles for their Glories,

916An outward Honor, for an inward Toyle,

917And for vnfelt Imaginations

918They often feele a world of restlesse Cares:

919So that betweene their Titles, and low Name,

920There's nothing differs, but the outward fame.

9221. Mur. Ho, who's heere?

923Bra. What would'st thou Fellow? And how camm'st

924thou hither.

9252. Mur. I would speak with Clarence, and I came hi-

926ther on my Legges.

927Bra. What so breefe?

9281. 'Tis better (Sir) then to be tedious:

929Let him see our Commission, and talke no more. Reads

930Bra. I am in this, commanded to deliuer

931The Noble Duke of Clarence to your hands.

932I will not reason what is meant heereby,

933Because I will be guiltlesse from the meaning.

934There lies the Duke asleepe, and there the Keyes.

935Ile to the King, and signifie to him,

936That thus I haue resign'd to you my charge. Exit.

9371 You may sir, 'tis a point of wisedome:

938Far you well.

9392 What, shall we stab him as he sleepes.

9401 No: hee'l say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes

9412 Why he shall neuer wake, vntill the great Iudge-

942ment day.

9431 Why then hee'l say, we stab'd him sleeping.

9442 The vrging of that word Iudgement, hath bred a

945kinde of remorse in me.

9461 What? art thou affraid?

9472 Not to kill him, hauing a Warrant,

948But to be damn'd for killing him, from the which

949No Warrant can defend me.

9501 I thought thou had'st bin resolute.

9512 So I am, to let him liue.

9521 Ile backe to the Duke of Glouster, and tell him so.

9532 Nay, I prythee stay a little:

954I hope this passionate humor of mine, will change,

955It was wont to hold me but while one tels twenty.

9561 How do'st thou feele thy selfe now?

9572 Some certaine dregges of conscience are yet with-

958in mee.

9591 Remember our Reward, when the deed's done.

9602 Come, he dies: I had forgot the Reward.

9611 Where's thy conscience now.

9622 O, in the Duke of Glousters purse.

9631 When hee opens his purse to giue vs our Reward,

964thy Conscience flyes out.

9652 'Tis no matter, let it goe: There's few or none will

966entertaine it.

9671 What if it come to thee againe?

9682 Ile not meddle with it, it makes a man a Coward:

969A man cannot steale, but it accuseth him: A man cannot

970Sweare, but it Checkes him: A man cannot lye with his

971Neighbours Wife, but it detects him. 'Tis a blushing

972shamefac'd spirit, that mutinies in a mans bosome: It

973filles a man full of Obstacles. It made me once restore a

974Pursse of Gold that (by chance) I found: It beggars any

975man that keepes it: It is turn'd out of Townes and Cit-

976ties for a dangerous thing, and euery man that means to

977liue well, endeuours to trust to himselfe, and liue with-

978out it.