Page 1145 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1
P. 1145
CLARENCE
O, if you love my brother, hate not me: [215]
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 Gloucester,
Who shall reward you better for my life
Than Edward will for tidings of my death. [220]
II MURDERER
You are deceiv’d: your brother Gloucester hates you.
CLARENCE
O no, he loves me, and he holds me dear;
Go you to him from me.
I MURDERER
Ay, so we will.
CLARENCE
Tell him, when that our princely father York
Bless’d his three sons with his victorious arm, [225]
And charg’d us from his soul to love each other,
He little thought of this divided friendship:
Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep.
I MURDERER
Ay, millstones, as he lesson’d us to weep.
CLARENCE
O, do not slander him, for he is kind. [230]
I 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 [235]
That he would labour my delivery.
