More than the infant that is born to-night:
I thank my God for my humility.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
A holy day shall this be kept hereafter:--
I would to God all strifes were well compounded.--
My sovereign lord, I do beseech your highness
To take our brother Clarence to your grace.

GLOSTER.
Why, madam, have I off'red love for this,
To be so flouted in this royal presence?
Who knows not that the gentle duke is dead?

[They all start.]

You do him injury to scorn his corse.

KING EDWARD.
Who knows not he is dead! Who knows he is?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.
All-seeing heaven, what a world is this!

BUCKINGHAM.
Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest?

DORSET.
Ay, my good lord; and no man in the presence
But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks.