FIRST MURDERER.
Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd us to weep.

CLARENCE.
O, do not slander him, for he is kind.

FIRST 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,
That he would labour my delivery.

FIRST MURDERER.
Why, so he doth, when he delivers you
From this earth's thraldom to the joys of heaven.

SECOND MURDERER.
Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord.

CLARENCE.
Have you that holy feeling in your souls,
To counsel me to make my peace with God,
And are you yet to your own souls so blind
That you will war with God by murdering me?--
O, sirs, consider, they that set you on
To do this deed will hate you for the deed.