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O, gentlemen ! see, see! dead Henry's wounds
Open their congeal'd mouths, and bleed afresh !
Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity,
For 't is thy presence that exhales this blood
From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells :
Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural,
Provokes this deluge most unnatural.-
O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death!
O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his death!
Either, heaven, with lightning strike the murderer dead,
Or, earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick,
As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood,
Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered !

Glo. Lady, you know no rules of charity,
Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.

Anne. Villain, thou know'st nor law of God nor man: No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity.

Glo. But I know none, and therefore am no beast. Anne. O wonderful when devils tell the truth !

Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so angry.-
Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,
Of these supposed evils to give me leave
By circumstance but to acquit myself.

Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus’d infection of a man,
For these known evils but to give me leave
By circumstance to curse thy cursed self.

Glo. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have
Some patient leisure to excuse myself.
Anne. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst

make No excuse current, but to hang thyself.

Glo. By such despair I should accuse myself.

Anne. And, by despairing, shalt thou stand excus'd
For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,
That didst unworthy slaughter upon others.

Glo. Say, that I slew them, not ?
Anne.

Then say they were not slain.' But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.

Glo. I did not kill your husband.
Anne.

Why, then he is alive. Glo. Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. Anne. In thy foul throat thou liest : queen Margaret

saw

1 Why, then, they are not dead : in quartos.

Thy murderous' falchion smoking in his blood;
The which thou once didst bend against her breast,
But that thy brothers beat aside the point.

Glo. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue,
That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.

Anne. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind,
That never dreamt on aught but butcheries.
Didst thou not kill this king ?

Glo. I grant ye.
Anne. Dost grant me, hedge-hog ? then, God grant

me too,
Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deed !
0! he was gentle, mild, and virtuous.

Glo. The fitter for the King of heaven that hath him. Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.

Glo. Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither ; For he was fitter for that place than earth.

Anne. And thou unfit for any place but hell.
Glo. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.
Anne. Some dungeon.
Glo. Your bed-chamber.
Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest.
Glo. So will it, madam, till I lie with you.
Anne. I hope so.
Glo.

I know so.—But, gentle lady Anne,-
To leave this keen encounter of our wits,
And fall something into a slower method,
Is not the causer of the timeless deaths
Of these Plantagenets, Henry, and Edward,
As blameful as the executioner ?

Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most accurs'd effect.

Glo. Your beauty was the cause of that effect;
Your beauty, that did haunt me in my sleep,
To undertake the death of all the world,
So I might livet one hour in your sweet bosom.

Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.
Glo. These eyes could not endure tható beauty's

wreck;
You should not blemish it, if I stood by :
As all the world is cheered by the sun,
So I by that; it is my day, my life.

1 bloody: in quartos. 2 better : in folio. 3 somewhat: in quartos. • rest : in quartos. I never : in quartos. 6 sweet : in quartos.

Glo.

Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy

life!
Glo. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both.
Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee.
Glo. It is a quarrel most unnatural,
To be reveng’d on him that loveth thee.

Anne. It is a quarrel just and reasonable,
To be reveng'd on him that kill'd' my husband.

Glo. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,
Did it to help thee to a better husband.

Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth. Glo. He lives that loves you better than he could. Anne. Name him.

Plantagenet. Anne.

Why, that was he. Glo. The self-same name, but one of better nature. Anne. Where is he? Glo.

Here : [She spits at him. Why dost thou spit at me ? Anne. 'Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! Glo. Never came poison from so sweet a place.

Anne. Never hung poison on a fouler toad. Out of my sight! thou dost infect mine eyes.

Glo. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. Anne. Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead! Glo. I would they were, that I might die at once, For now they kill me with a living death. Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops : These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear; No, when my father York, and Edward wept To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made, When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at him; Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, Told the sad story of my father's death, And twenty times made pause to sob and weep, That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks, Like trees bedash'd with rain ; in that sad time My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear : And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.' I never sued to friend, nor enemy;

1 slew; in quartos. This and the eleven preceding lines, are not in the quartos.

My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing? word;
But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee,
My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak.

[She looks scornfully at him.
Teach not thy lip such scorn; for it was made
For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,
Lo! here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword;
Which if thou please to hide in this true breast,"
And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,
I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,
And humbly beg the death upon my knee.

[He lays his Breast open : she offers at it with his

Sword. Nay, do not pause ; for I did kill king Henry :3_ But 't was thy beauty that provoked me. Nay, now despatch ; 't was I that stabbed+ young Ed

ward ;But ’t was thy heavenly face that set me on.

[She lets fall the Sword. Take up the sword again, or take up me.

Anne. Arise, dissembler : though I wish thy death, I will not be thy executioner. Glo. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.

[Taking up the Sword." Anne. I have already. Glo.

That was in thy rage :
Speak it again, and even with the word,
This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love,
Shall for thy love kill a far truer love:
To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary.

Anne. I would I knew thy heart.
Glo. ’T is figur'd in my tongue.
Anne. I fear me, both are false.
Glo. Then, never man was true.
Anne. Well, well, put up your sword.
Glo. Say, then, my peace is made.
Anne. That shalt thou know hereafter.
Glo. But shall I live in hope ? (Sheathing his Sword.
Anne. All men, I hope, live so.
Glo. Vouchsafe to wear this ring.
Anne. To take, is not to give. [She puts on the Ring.
1 soothing: in quartos. 2 bosom : in quartos. 3 't was I that kill'd
your husband : in quartos. 4 kill'd: in quartos.

5 6 Not in f. e.

Glo. Look, how my ring encompasseth thy finger, Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. And if thy poor devoted suppliant may But beg one favour at thy gracious hand. Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.

Anne. What is it? Glo. That it may please you leave these sad designs To him that hath most cause to be a mourner, And presently repair to Crosby-place. Where (after I have solemnly interr’d, At Chertsey monastery, this noble king, And wet his grave with my repentant tears) I will with all expedient' duty see you : Fór divers unknown reasons, I beseech you, Grant me this boon.

Anne. With all my heart; and much it joys me too,
To see you are become so penitent.-
Tressel, and Berkley, go along with me.

Glo. Bid me farewell.
Anne.

'Tis more than you deserve, But since you teach me how to flatter you, Imagine I have said farewell already.

(Exeunt Lady ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKLEY. Gent. Towards Chertsey, noble lord ? Glo. No, to White-Friars; there attend my coming.

(Exeunt the rest, with the Corse. Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ? Was ever woman in this humour won ? I'll have her, but I will not keep her long. What! I that kill'd her husband, and his father, To take her in her heart's extremest hate ; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of mys hatred by, Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit withal', But the plain devil, and dissembling looks, And yet to win her,-all the world to nothing! Ha! Hath she forgot already that brave prince, Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since, Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury ?

1 servant: in f.e. 2 more : in quartos. 3 Expeditious. 4 The quartos insert : “ Glos. Take up the corse, sirs." 5 her: in quartos. 6 nothing : in quartos. 7 at all : in quartos.

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