Glo. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me 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 somewhat into a slower method; Is not the causer of the timeless deaths Of these Plantagenets, Henry, and Edward, Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most accurs'd effect. 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. 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 Glo. The self-same name, but one of better na ture. 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,— Not, when my father York and Edward wept, Told the sad story of my father's death; My tongue could never learn sweet soothing word; speak. My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to 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;But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. Nay, now despatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward; [She again offers at his breast. But 'twas 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. 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. Say then, my peace is made. Glo. Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, Vouchsafe to wear this ring. [She puts on the ring. Anne. What is it? Glo. That it may please you leave these sad de signs To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, 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 farewel. Anne. 'Tis more than you deserve: But, since you teach me how to flatter you, Imagine I have said farewel already. [Exeunt Lady Anne, Tressel, and Berkley. Glo. Take up the corse, sirs. Gen. Towards Chertsey, noble lord? Glo. No, to White-Fryars; 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, With God, her conscience, and these bars against me, |