May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him.
Mur. Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand to prate.
Talkers are no good doers: be assur'd
We go to use our hands and not our tongues. 352
Rich. Your eyes drop millstones, when fools' eyes fall tears:
I like you, lads; about your business straight.
Go, go, dispatch.
Mur. We will, my noble lord.
Scene Four
[The Same. The Tower]
Enter Clarence and Keeper.
Keep. Why looks your Grace so heavily to-day?
Clar. O, I have pass'd a miserable night,
So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights,
That, as I am a Christian faithful man, 4
I would not spend another such a night,
Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days,
So full of dismal terror was the time.
Keep. What was your dream, my lord? I pray you, tell me. 8
Clar. Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower,
And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy;
And in my company my brother Gloucester,
Who from my cabin tempted me to walk 12
Upon the hatches: there we look'd toward England,
And cited up a thousand heavy times,
353 millstones; cf. n.
Scene Four S. d. Cf. n.
1 heavily: sorrowfully
9 Methoughts: it seemed to me
10 Burgundy; cf. n.
13 hatches: movable planks forming a kind of deck
14 cited up: called to mind
