ACT I.
1. SCENE I. London. A street
 (continued)
GLOSTER.
 
Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury,
 
You may partake of any thing we say:
 
We speak no treason, man;--we say the king
 
Is wise and virtuous; and his noble queen
 
Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous;--
 
We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
 
A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue;
 
And that the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks:
 
How say you, sir? can you deny all this? 
 
BRAKENBURY.
 
With this, my lord, myself have naught to do. 
 
GLOSTER.
 
Naught to do with Mistress Shore! I tell thee, fellow,
 
He that doth naught with her, excepting one,
 
Were best to do it secretly alone. 
 
BRAKENBURY.
 
What one, my lord? 
 
GLOSTER.
 
Her husband, knave:--wouldst thou betray me? 
 
BRAKENBURY.
 
I do beseech your grace to pardon me; and, withal,
 
Forbear your conference with the noble duke. 
 
CLARENCE.
 
We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. 
 
GLOSTER.
 
We are the queen's abjects and must obey.--
 
Brother, farewell: I will unto the king;
 
And whatsoe'er you will employ me in,--
 
Were it to call King Edward's widow sister,--
 
I will perform it to enfranchise you.
 
Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood
 
Touches me deeper than you can imagine. 
 
CLARENCE.
 
I know it pleaseth neither of us well. 
 
GLOSTER.
 
Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;
 
I will deliver or else lie for you:
 
Meantime, have patience. 
 
CLARENCE.
 
I must perforce: farewell. 
 
[Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and guard.] 
 
GLOSTER.
 
Go tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return.
 
Simple, plain Clarence!--I do love thee so
 
That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven,
 
If heaven will take the present at our hands.--
 
But who comes here? The new-delivered Hastings? 
 
[Enter HASTINGS.] 
 
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