ACT I.
4. SCENE IV. London. A Room in the Tower.
(continued)
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 faults,
Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee.
CLARENCE.
If you do love my brother, hate not me;
I am his brother, and I love him well.
If you are hir'd 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.
SECOND MURDERER.
You are deceiv'd, your brother Gloster hates you.
CLARENCE.
O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear:
Go you to him from me.
FIRST MURDERER.
Ay, so we will.
CLARENCE.
Tell him when that our princely father York
Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm
And charg'd us from his soul to love each other,
He little thought of this divided friendship:
Bid Gloster think of this, and he will weep.
FIRST MURDERER.
Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd us to weep.
CLARENCE.
O, do not slander him, for he is kind.
FIRST MURDERER.
Right, as snow in harvest.--Come, you deceive yourself:
'Tis he that sends us to destroy you here.
CLARENCE.
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.
FIRST MURDERER.
Why, so he doth, when he delivers you
From this earth's thraldom to the joys of heaven.
SECOND MURDERER.
Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord.
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