Act 1.

KING RICHARD III.

Scene 2.

M HUNTER in LADY ANNE.

Either heaven, with lightning strike the murderer dead,
Or, earth,
th, gape open wide, and eat him quick!?. —

London Printed for J.Bell, British Library Strand Dec 31 1785.

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 ly'st; queen Marga.

ret saw

260

Thy murderous faulchion 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!

O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous

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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

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.

280

Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou lyest! Glo. So will it, madam, 'til I lie with you.

Glo. I know so. But, gentle lady Anne-
To leave this keen encounter of our wits,
And fall somewhat 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.

290

Glo. Your beauty was the cause of that effect; Your beauty, which did haunt me in my sleep, To undertake the death of all the world, So I might live 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 that 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.

300

Anne. Black night o'er-shade thy day, and death

thy life!

Glo