21Enter Richard Duke of Gloucester [alone]. Now is the winter of our discontent
1.1.243Made glorious summer by this sun of York,
1.1.354And all the clouds that loured upon our House
1.1.465In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
1.1.576Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths,
1.1.687Our bruisèd arms hung up for monuments,
1.1.798Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
1.1.8109Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
1.1.91110Grim-visaged War hath smoothed his wrinkled front,
1.1.101211And now instead of mounting barbèd steeds
1.1.111312To fright the souls of fearful adversaries
1.1.141615But I that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
1.1.151716Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass:
1.1.161817I that am rudely stamped and want love's majesty
1.1.171918To strut before a wanton, ambling nymph:
1.1.182019I that am curtailed of this fair proportion,
1.1.192120Cheated of feature by dissembling Nature,
1.1.202221Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time
1.1.212322Into this breathing world scarce half made up,
1.1.283029And therefore since I cannot prove a lover
1.1.293130To entertain these fair, well-spoken days,
1.1.313332And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
1.1.323433Plots have I laid, inductious, dangerous,
1.1.333534By drunken prophesies, libels and dreams
1.1.343635To set my brothers, Clarence and the King,
1.1.353736In deadly hate, the one against the other.
1.1.384039This day should Clarence closely be mewed up
1.1.404241Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
1.1.0.144Enter Clarence with a guard of men [under the command of Brakenbury]. Dive, thoughts, down to my soul, 43Here Clarence comes.
1.1.434544Brother, good days -- What means this armèd guard
His majesty, tendering my person's safety,
48hath appointed
1.1.4648This conduct to convey me to the Tower.
Upon what cause?
Because my name is George.
Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours;
1.1.505252He should for that commit your godfathers --
1.1.525454That you shall be new christened in the Tower.
1.1.535555But what's the matter, Clarence, may I know?
Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest
1.1.575959And from the cross-row plucks the letter "G"
1.1.606262And for my name of George begins with "G"
1.1.626464These, as I learn, and such like toys as these
1.1.636565Have moved his highness to commit me now.
Why, this it is when men are ruled by women;
1.1.656767'Tis not the King that sends you to the Tower:
1.1.666868My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she
1.1.687070Was it not she, and that good man of worship
1.1.707272That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower,
1.1.717373From whence this present day he is delivered?
1.1.727474We are not safe, Clarence, we are not safe.
By heaven, I think there is no man is secured
1.1.747676But the Queen's kindred and night-walking heralds
1.1.757777That trudge betwixt the King and Mistress Shore.
1.1.777979Lord Hastings was to her for his delivery?
Humbly complaining to her deity
1.1.808282I'll tell you what, I think it is our way,
1.1.838585The jealous o'er-worn widow and herself,
1.1.848686Since that our brother dubbed them gentlewomen,
I beseech your graces both to pardon me;
1.1.878989His majesty hath straitly given in charge
1.1.889090That no man shall have private conference,
1.1.899191Of what degree soever, with his brother.
Even so? And please your worship Brakenbury,
1.1.929494We speak no treason, man: we say the King
1.1.939595Is wise and virtuous, and his noble Queen
1.1.949696Well struck in years, fair and not jealous.
1.1.959797We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
1.1.969898A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue,
1.1.979999And that the Queen's kindred are made gentlefolks.
With this, my lord, myself have nought to
102do.
Naught to do with Mistress Shore? I tell thee fellow,
What one, my lord?
Her husband, knave; wouldst thou betray me?
I beseech your grace
109 to pardon me and withal forbear
We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.
We are the Queen's abjects and must obey.
Brother, farewell. I will unto the King,
1.1.118I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
Well, your imprisonment shall not be long:
I must perforce; farewell.
1.1.123Exit Clar[ence with Brakenbury and guards]. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return,
Good time of day unto my gracious lord.
As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain.
With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must;
No doubt, no doubt, and so shall Clarence too,
More pity that the eagle should be mewed
What news abroad?
No news so bad abroad as this at home:
Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed;
He is.
Go you before and I will follow you.
1.1.155155152'Till George be packed with post-horse up to heaven.
1.1.170170167Clarence still breathes, Edward still lives and reigns;