RICH. Both John and I have serv'd your will too long;
Mother, repent your cruelty and wrong:
Gloster, you know, is full of mirth and glee,
And never else did your grace injury.
QUEEN. Gloster shall die.
HEN. Fetch him here, I'll see him dead.
RICH. He that stirs for him shall lay down his head.
FAU. O quiet, good my lords; patience, I pray,
I think he comes unsent for, by my fay.
Enter JOHN in GLOSTER'S gown.
RICH. What mean'st thou, Gloster?
HEN. Who brought Gloster hither?
JOHN. Let Gloster hang and them that … [487] There lies his case[488], a mischief on his carcase! [Throws off GLOSTER'S gown.
QUEEN. My dear son Jack!