Act 1, Scene 4

London. A Room in the Tower.

[Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY.]
Sir Robert Brakenbury
800 Why looks your grace so heavily to-day?
George, Duke of Clarence
801 O, I have pass'd a miserable night,
802 So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights,
803 That, as I am a Christian faithful man,
804 I would not spend another such a night
805 Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days,—
806 So full of dismal terror was the time!
Sir Robert Brakenbury
807 What was your dream, my lord? I pray you tell me.
George, Duke of Clarence
808 Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower,
809 And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy;
810 And, in my company, my brother Gloster;
811 Who from my cabin tempted me to walk
812 Upon the hatches: thence we look'd toward England,
813 And cited up a thousand heavy times,
814 During the wars of York and Lancaster,
815 That had befall'n us. As we pac'd along
816 Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
817 Methought that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling,
818 Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard
819 Into the tumbling billows of the main.
820 O Lord, methought what pain it was to drown!
821 What dreadful noise of waters in my ears!
822 What sights of ugly death within my eyes!
823 Methoughts I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
824 A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon;
825 Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
826 Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
827 All scatt'red in the bottom of the sea:
828 Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in the holes
829 Where eyes did once inhabit there were crept,—
830 As 'twere in scorn of eyes,—reflecting gems,
831 That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep,
832 And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
Sir Robert Brakenbury
833 Had you such leisure in the time of death
834 To gaze upon these secrets of the deep?
George, Duke of Clarence
835 Methought I had; and often did I strive
836 To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood
837 Stopp'd in my soul, and would not let it forth
838 To find the empty, vast, and wandering air;
839 But smother'd it within my panting bulk,
840 Who almost burst to belch it in the sea.
Sir Robert Brakenbury
841 Awak'd you not in this sore agony?
George, Duke of Clarence
842 No, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life;
843 O, then began the tempest to my soul!
844 I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood
845 With that grim ferryman which poets write of,
846 Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.
847 The first that there did greet my stranger soul
848 Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick;
849 Who spake aloud, "What scourge for perjury
850 Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?"
851 And so he vanish'd: then came wandering by
852 A shadow like an Angel, with bright hair
853 Dabbled in blood; and he shriek'd out aloud
854 "Clarence is come,—false, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence,—
855 That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury;—
856 Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments!"
857 With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends
858 Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears
859 Such hideous cries that, with the very noise,
860 I trembling wak'd, and for a season after
861 Could not believe but that I was in hell,—
862 Such terrible impression made my dream.
Sir Robert Brakenbury
863 No marvel, lord, though it affrighted you;
864 I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.
George, Duke of Clarence
865 Ah, Brakenbury, I have done these things
866 That now give evidence against my soul,
867 For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me!—
868 O God! If my deep prayers cannot appease Thee,
869 But Thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds,
870 Yet execute Thy wrath in me alone,—
871 O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children!—
872 Keeper, I prithee sit by me awhile;
873 My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.
Sir Robert Brakenbury
874 I will, my lord; God give your grace good rest!—
[CLARENCE reposes himself on a chair.]
Sir Robert Brakenbury
875 Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours,
876 Makes the night morning and the noontide night.
877 Princes have but their titles for their glories,
878 An outward honour for an inward toil;
879 And, for unfelt imaginations,
880 They often feel a world of restless cares:
881 So that, between their tides and low name,
882 There's nothing differs but the outward fame.
[Enter the two MURDERERS.]
First Murderer
883 Ho! who's here?
Sir Robert Brakenbury
884 What wouldst thou, fellow, and how cam'st thou hither?
First Murderer
885 I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs.
Sir Robert Brakenbury
886 What, so brief?
Second Murderer
887 'Tis better, sir, than to be tedious.—Let
888 him see our commission and talk no more.
[A paper is delivered to BRAKENBURY, who reads it.]
Sir Robert Brakenbury
889 I am, in this, commanded to deliver
890 The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands:—
891 I will not reason what is meant hereby,
892 Because I will be guiltless of the meaning.
893 There lies the Duke asleep,—and there the keys;
894 I'll to the king and signify to him
895 That thus I have resign'd to you my charge.
First Murderer
896 You may, sir; 'tis a point of wisdom: fare you well.
[Exit BRAKENBURY.]
Second Murderer
897 What, shall we stab him as he sleeps?
First Murderer
898 No; he'll say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes.
Second Murderer
899 When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake until the great
900 judgment-day.
First Murderer
901 Why, then he'll say we stabb'd him sleeping.
Second Murderer
902 The urging of that word "judgment" hath bred a kind of remorse in
903 me.
First Murderer
904 What, art thou afraid?
Second Murderer
905 Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be damned
906 for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend me.
First Murderer
907 I thought thou hadst been resolute.
Second Murderer
908 So I am, to let him live.
First Murderer
909 I'll back to the Duke of Gloster and tell him so.
Second Murderer
910 Nay, I pr'ythee, stay a little: I hope my holy humour will
911 change; it was wont to hold me but while one tells twenty.
First Murderer
912 How dost thou feel thyself now?
Second Murderer
913 Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me.
First Murderer
914 Remember our reward, when the deed's done.
Second Murderer
915 Zounds, he dies: I had forgot the reward.
First Murderer
916 Where's thy conscience now?
Second Murderer
917 O, in the Duke of Gloster's purse.
First Murderer
918 So, when he opens his purse to give us our reward,
919 thy conscience flies out.
Second Murderer
920 'Tis no matter; let it go; there's few or none will entertain it.
First Murderer
921 What if it come to thee again?
Second Murderer
922 I'll not meddle with it,—it makes a man coward;
923 a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him; a man
924 cannot swear, but it checks him; a man cannot lie with his
925 neighbour's wife, but it detects him: 'tis a blushing shame-
926 faced spirit that mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills a man
927 full of obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold
928 that by chance I found; it beggars any man that keeps it:
929 it is turned out of towns and cities for a dangerous thing;
930 and every man that means to live well endeavours to trust
931 to himself and live without it.
First Murderer
932 Zounds,'tis even now at my elbow, persuading me
933 not to kill the duke.
Second Murderer
934 Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him not; he would
935 insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh.
First Murderer
936 I am strong-framed; he cannot prevail with me.
Second Murderer
937 Spoke like a tall man that respects thy reputation.
938 Come, shall we fall to work?
First Murderer
939 Take him on the costard with the hilts of thy sword,
940 and then throw him in the malmsey-butt in the next room.
Second Murderer
941 O excellent device! and make a sop of him.
First Murderer
942 Soft! he wakes.
Second Murderer
943 Strike!
First Murderer
944 No, we'll reason with him.
George, Duke of Clarence
945 Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine.
Second Murderer
946 You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon.
George, Duke of Clarence
947 In God's name, what art thou?
First Murderer
948 A man, as you are.
George, Duke of Clarence
949 But not as I am, royal.
Second Murderer
950 Nor you as we are, loyal.
George, Duke of Clarence
951 Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble.
First Murderer
952 My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own.
George, Duke of Clarence
953 How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak!
954 Your eyes do menace me; why look you pale?
955 Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come?
Second Murderer
956 To, to, to—
George, Duke of Clarence
957 To murder me?
Both Murderers
958 Ay, ay.
George, Duke of Clarence
959 You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so,
960 And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it.
961 Wherein, my friends, have I offended you?
First Murderer
962 Offended us you have not, but the king.
George, Duke of Clarence
963 I shall be reconcil'd to him again.
Second Murderer
964 Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die.
George, Duke of Clarence
965 Are you drawn forth among a world of men
966 To slay the innocent? What is my offence?
967 Where is the evidence that doth accuse me?
968 What lawful quest have given their verdict up
969 Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounc'd
970 The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death?
971 Before I be convict by course of law,
972 To threaten me with death is most unlawful.
973 I charge you, as you hope to have redemption
974 By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins,
975 That you depart, and lay no hands on me:
976 The deed you undertake is damnable.
First Murderer
977 What we will do, we do upon command.
Second Murderer
978 And he that hath commanded is our king.
George, Duke of Clarence
979 Erroneous vassals! the great King of kings
980 Hath in the table of his law commanded
981 That thou shalt do no murder: will you then
982 Spurn at His edict and fulfil a man's?
983 Take heed; for He holds vengeance in His hand
984 To hurl upon their heads that break His law.
Second Murderer
985 And that same vengeance doth He hurl on thee
986 For false forswearing, and for murder too:
987 Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight
988 In quarrel of the house of Lancaster.
First Murderer
989 And like a traitor to the name of God
990 Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade
991 Unripp'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son.
Second Murderer
992 Whom thou wast sworn to cherish and defend.
First Murderer
993 How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us,
994 When thou hast broke it in such dear degree?
George, Duke of Clarence
995 Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed?
996 For Edward, for my brother, for his sake:
997 He sends you not to murder me for this;
998 For in that sin he is as deep as I.
999 If God will be avenged for the deed,
1000 O, know you yet He doth it publicly.
1001 Take not the quarrel from His powerful arm;
1002 He needs no indirect or lawless course
1003 To cut off those that have offended Him.
First Murderer
1004 Who made thee, then, a bloody minister
1005 When gallant-springing brave Plantagenet,
1006 That princely novice, was struck dead by thee?
George, Duke of Clarence
1007 My brother's love, the devil, and my rage.
First Murderer
1008 Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy faults,
1009 Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee.
George, Duke of Clarence
1010 If you do love my brother, hate not me;
1011 I am his brother, and I love him well.
1012 If you are hir'd for meed, go back again,
1013 And I will send you to my brother Gloster,
1014 Who shall reward you better for my life
1015 Than Edward will for tidings of my death.
Second Murderer
1016 You are deceiv'd, your brother Gloster hates you.
George, Duke of Clarence
1017 O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear:
1018 Go you to him from me.
First Murderer
1019 Ay, so we will.
George, Duke of Clarence
1020 Tell him when that our princely father York
1021 Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm
1022 And charg'd us from his soul to love each other,
1023 He little thought of this divided friendship:
1024 Bid Gloster think of this, and he will weep.
First Murderer
1025 Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd us to weep.
George, Duke of Clarence
1026 O, do not slander him, for he is kind.
First Murderer
1027 Right, as snow in harvest.—Come, you deceive yourself:
1028 'Tis he that sends us to destroy you here.
George, Duke of Clarence
1029 It cannot be; for he bewept my fortune,
1030 And hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs,
1031 That he would labour my delivery.
First Murderer
1032 Why, so he doth, when he delivers you
1033 From this earth's thraldom to the joys of heaven.
Second Murderer
1034 Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord.
George, Duke of Clarence
1035 Have you that holy feeling in your souls,
1036 To counsel me to make my peace with God,
1037 And are you yet to your own souls so blind
1038 That you will war with God by murdering me?—
1039 O, sirs, consider, they that set you on
1040 To do this deed will hate you for the deed.
Second Murderer
1041 What shall we do?
George, Duke of Clarence
1042 Relent, and save your souls.
First Murderer
1043 Relent! 'tis cowardly and womanish.
George, Duke of Clarence
1044 Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish.
1045 Which of you, if you were a prince's son,
1046 Being pent from liberty, as I am now,—
1047 If two such murderers as yourselves came to you,—
1048 Would not entreat for life?—
1049 My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks;
1050 O, if thine eye be not a flatterer,
1051 Come thou on my side, and entreat for me,
1052 As you would beg, were you in my distress:
1053 A begging prince what beggar pities not?
Second Murderer
1054 Look behind you, my lord.
[Stabs him.]
First Murderer
1055 Take that, and that: if all this will not do,
1056 I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within.
[Exit with the body.]
Second Murderer
1057 A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch'd!
1058 How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands
1059 Of this most grievous murder!
[Re-enter FIRST MURDERER.]
First Murderer
1060 How now, what mean'st thou that thou help'st me not?
1061 By heavens, the duke shall know how slack you have
1062 been!
Second Murderer
1063 I would he knew that I had sav'd his brother!
1064 Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say;
1065 For I repent me that the duke is slain.
[Exit.]
First Murderer
1066 So do not I: go, coward as thou art.—
1067 Well, I'll go hide the body in some hole,
1068 Till that the duke give order for his burial:
1069 And when I have my meed, I will away;
1070 For this will out, and then I must not stay.
[Exit.]

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Notes

TLN 801cultural context
“pass'd a miserable night, So full of fearful dreams”
Clarence's opening speech establishes the scene's central action: a man telling the dream that foreshadows his own death. In Renaissance psychology dreams were believed to carry genuine prophetic weight, produced either by God, the devil, or the humors — Clarence's terror is not mere superstition but a serious premonition.
TLN 808historical topical
“broken from the Tower, And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy”
Clarence dreams of escaping the Tower of London and sailing for Burgundy, the duchy in what is now Belgium and the Netherlands. Burgundy was a natural refuge for Yorkists: Edward IV had sheltered there during his exile in 1470-71, and Clarence himself had briefly allied with the Burgundian court during the wars.
historical The Wars of the Roses
TLN 813historical topical
“cited up a thousand heavy times, During the wars of York and Lancaster”
'Cited up' means called to mind, recalled. Clarence and Gloucester, standing on the ship's deck looking back toward England, remember all the disasters they lived through during the Wars of the Roses — the dynastic civil wars between the houses of York and Lancaster that consumed their entire adult lives.
historical The Wars of the Roses
TLN 826rhetorical device
“Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, All scatt'red in the bottom of the sea”
'Inestimable' means too precious to be priced; 'unvalued' here means beyond valuation (priceless), not worthless — a common Elizabethan sense. The dream-inventory of treasure lying among bones is a formal rhetorical device called enargeia (vivid description that makes the listener see the scene), but it also functions as a memento mori: all earthly wealth lies useless at the bottom of the sea, winking from dead men's skulls.
TLN 836archaic vocab
“yield the ghost: but still the envious flood Stopp'd in my soul”
'Yield the ghost' means to give up the soul — to die. 'Ghost' here is the older sense of the soul or life-breath (Old English gast), not a haunting spirit. The flood is 'envious' in the sense of hostile, malicious; it grudges Clarence the release of death. The soul, unable to escape through the lungs, is smothered 'within my panting bulk' — his heaving body.
TLN 844classical allusion
“pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood With that grim ferryman which poets write of”
The 'melancholy flood' is the river Styx (or Acheron) of classical mythology — the river of the underworld that the dead must cross to reach their final home. The 'grim ferryman' is Charon, who transported souls across it for a coin. Clarence has not merely drowned in his dream: he has passed into the classical afterlife.
classical Lethe, river of forgetfulness
TLN 848historical topical
“my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; Who spake aloud, What scourge for perjury”
Clarence's 'great father-in-law' is Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, known as 'the Kingmaker' — the most powerful magnate of the Wars of the Roses. Warwick's daughter Isabel had married Clarence; Warwick himself died at the Battle of Barnet (1471) after Clarence defected from the Lancastrian cause they had joined together, returning to his brother Edward IV. Warwick's ghost accuses Clarence of 'perjury' — breaking his sworn oath to the Lancastrian cause.
historical The Wars of the Roses
TLN 852historical topical
“A shadow like an Angel, with bright hair Dabbled in blood; and he shriek'd out aloud Clarence is come,—false, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence,— That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury”
The blood-dabbled figure is Edward of Westminster, Prince of Wales — the Lancastrian heir to Henry VI — whom Clarence helped kill after the Battle of Tewkesbury (1471). The prince accuses Clarence of betraying the very cause he had sworn to uphold when he joined Warwick. 'Fleeting' here means inconstant, changeable — a man who fled from one loyalty to another.
historical More's History of King Richard IIIhistorical The Wars of the Roses
TLN 856classical allusion
“Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments”
The Furies (Greek Erinyes, Latin Furiae) were the female spirits of divine vengeance in classical mythology, who tormented those guilty of the worst crimes — especially murder of kin and perjury. They are the appropriate tormentors for Clarence, who has both sworn a perjured oath and betrayed a father-in-law (a kin-bond). The Prince's cry fuses classical and Christian punishment: 'a legion of foul fiends' in the next line is the New Testament demonic language.
TLN 867historical topical
“For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me”
'He requites me' — he repays me (with imprisonment). Clarence tells Brakenbury that his evil deeds were done for his brother Edward IV's sake, yet Edward is now the one who has locked him in the Tower. The dramatic irony is sharp: Clarence believes Edward imprisoned him on misguided advice and does not suspect that Richard engineered his downfall. 'Requite' means to repay, especially a past service or injury — here bitterly: Clarence served his brother with crimes and is repaid with a prison cell.
TLN 875rhetorical device
“Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning and the noontide night”
Brakenbury's four-line soliloquy is a formal sententious commentary on the scene (a 'sententia' — a moralizing maxim used in classical rhetoric and Elizabethan drama to close or frame a scene). 'Breaks seasons' means disrupts the natural order of time. The couplet form and balanced antithesis ('night morning... noontide night') mark it as a set-piece gnome — a general truth extracted from a particular case — and give Brakenbury an unexpected moment of moral gravity before he hands Clarence over to his killers.
TLN 899biblical allusion
“he shall never wake until the great judgment-day”
The 'great judgment day' is the Last Judgment of Christian theology — the day at the end of time when God will raise all the dead and judge them for their lives. The Second Murderer uses it as a casual wisecrack, but the phrase rebounds immediately: the word 'judgment' triggers the Second Murderer's conscience and nearly stops the murder. The casual blasphemy becomes a serious theological hinge in the next dozen lines.
TLN 905cultural context
“to be damned for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend me”
The Second Murderer distinguishes between earthly and divine authority: a royal warrant ('commission') can authorize killing in the eyes of the law, but no written document can exempt a man from God's judgment. The joke is that he fears hell more than the gallows. This is the scene's central moral thesis: the murderers have legal cover but no spiritual cover — and Clarence will return this argument to them in his own defense speech.
TLN 910archaic vocab
“my holy humour will change; it was wont to hold me but while one tells twenty”
'Humour' here means a mood or passing fit (from the older medical theory that four bodily humors governed temperament). 'Holy humour' is the Second Murderer's sardonic term for his attack of conscience. 'It was wont to hold me but while one tells twenty' means his scruple typically lasts only as long as it takes to count to twenty — a very short time.
TLN 920wordplay
“there's few or none will entertain it”
The Second Murderer's extended comic monologue on conscience is the scene's philosophical centerpiece. 'Entertain' means to welcome as a guest, to keep in one's service (a retained servant was 'entertained'). He is running through the things conscience prevents — theft, lying, adultery — and concluding that no one will 'keep' conscience in employment. The joke is that he speaks about conscience as if it were a troublesome lodger or servant to be turned out: 'it is turned out of towns and cities for a dangerous thing.'
TLN 939archaic vocab
“Take him on the costard with the hilts of thy sword, and then throw him in the malmsey-butt”
A 'costard' is the head (literally a large kind of apple, used colloquially for the head). 'Hilts' means the handle of the sword — the plan is to knock Clarence unconscious with the pommel, not to stab him. A 'malmsey-butt' is a large cask (a 'butt' = about 108 gallons) of malmsey, a sweet Mediterranean wine. The historical tradition, recorded in Holinshed and More, is that Clarence was drowned in a barrel of malmsey — the play stages that notoriety.
TLN 979biblical allusion
“Erroneous vassals! the great King of kings Hath in the table of his law commanded That thou shalt do no murder”
'The great King of kings' is a biblical title for God — used repeatedly in Revelation and in the Old Testament to distinguish God from earthly monarchs. 'The table of his law' refers to the Ten Commandments, originally written by God on stone tablets (the two 'tables' given to Moses on Sinai). Clarence is invoking the Sixth Commandment: 'Thou shalt not kill' (Exodus 20:13). He is arguing that the murderers' obedience to an earthly king cannot override God's direct command.
biblical The Sixth Commandment and self-slaughter
TLN 987historical topical
“Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight In quarrel of the house of Lancaster”
Receiving the sacrament — the Eucharist (Holy Communion) — while swearing an oath was the most solemn form of pledge available; breaking it was a mortal sin. The Second Murderer is pointing out that when Clarence joined the Earl of Warwick's Lancastrian rebellion in 1470, he sealed that alliance with a sworn sacramental oath. His defection back to Edward IV before Barnet was therefore not merely political betrayal but sacrilege.
historical The Wars of the Roses
TLN 1001biblical allusion
“Take not the quarrel from His powerful arm; He needs no indirect or lawless course To cut off those that have offended Him”
Clarence argues that God does not need human agents working through unlawful means to punish sinners: God avenges directly when He wills. The argument is drawn from the biblical principle that vengeance belongs to God alone. 'Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm' means: do not seize God's prerogative of punishment for yourselves.
TLN 1012archaic vocab
“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”
'Meed' means reward, payment, wages — often specifically a mercenary fee. Clarence is offering to outbid Richard: if the murderers are working for money rather than loyalty, he will pay them more to let him live and carry a message to Gloucester (still believing, fatally, that Richard is his ally). The word 'meed' is common in medieval and early-modern poetry but archaic in modern English.
TLN 1025wordplay
“Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd us to weep”
Clarence has said that if Gloucester hears of their 'divided friendship' he will weep. The First Murderer answers: yes, he will weep 'millstones' — that is, nothing at all, since millstones do not weep. 'Weep millstones' was a proverbial expression for stony-hearted indifference — the opposite of tears. The murderer is telling Clarence that Richard taught them by example to be just as hard-hearted: 'as he lesson'd us to weep' means 'just as Richard showed us how to weep — which is not at all.'
TLN 1058biblical allusion
“How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands Of this most grievous murder”
After helping murder Clarence, the Second Murderer compares himself to Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor who washed his hands before the crowd when he handed Jesus over to be crucified — a gesture meant to declare himself innocent of blood he was about to spill. The allusion acknowledges that, like Pilate, the Second Murderer is complicit in killing a man he knows to be unjustly condemned, and that the gesture of washing cannot actually cleanse the guilt.
biblical Pilate washing his hands