BRAKENBURY. Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours,

          Makes the night morning and the noontide night.

          Princes have but their titles for their glories,

          An outward honour for an inward toil;

          And for unfelt imaginations

          They often feel a world of restless cares,

          So that between their tides and low name

          There's nothing differs but the outward fame.

        FIRST MURDERER. Ho! who's here?

        BRAKENBURY. What wouldst thou, fellow, and how cam'st

          thou hither?

        FIRST MURDERER. I would speak with Clarence, and I came

          hither on my legs.

        BRAKENBURY. What, so brief?

        SECOND MURDERER. 'Tis better, sir, than to be tedious. Let

          him see our commission and talk no more.

                                                 [BRAKENBURY reads it]

        BRAKENBURY. I am, in this, commanded to deliver

          The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands.

          I will not reason what is meant hereby,

          Because I will be guiltless from the meaning.

          There lies the Duke asleep; and there the keys.

          I'll to the King and signify to him

          That thus I have resign'd to you my charge.

        FIRST MURDERER. You may, sir; 'tis a point of wisdom. Fare

          you well. Exeunt BRAKENBURY and KEEPER

        SECOND MURDERER. What, shall I stab him as he sleeps?

        FIRST MURDERER. No; he'll say 'twas done cowardly, when

          he wakes.

        SECOND MURDERER. Why, he shall never wake until the great

          judgment-day.

        FIRST MURDERER. Why, then he'll say we stabb'd him

          sleeping.

        SECOND MURDERER. The urging of that word judgment hath

          bred a kind of remorse in me.

        FIRST MURDERER. What, art thou afraid?

        SECOND MURDERER. Not to kill him, having a warrant; but to

          be damn'd for killing him, from the which no warrant can

          defend me.

        FIRST MURDERER. I thought thou hadst been resolute.

        SECOND MURDERER. So I am, to let him live.

        FIRST MURDERER. I'll back to the Duke of Gloucester and

          tell him so.

        SECOND MURDERER. Nay, I prithee, stay a little. I hope this

          passionate humour of mine will change; it was wont to

          hold me but while one tells twenty.

        FIRST MURDERER. How dost thou feel thyself now?

          SECOND MURDERER. Faith, some certain dregs of conscience

          are yet within me.

        FIRST MURDERER. Remember our reward, when the deed's

          done.

        SECOND MURDERER. Zounds, he dies; I had forgot the reward.