For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood Thy deed, inhuman and 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 no law of God nor man; No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity. Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, 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, Anne. Why then, they are not dead: 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. Il rest betide the chamber where thou liest ! Glo. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. Glo. I know so.-But, gentle lady Anne,- 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: Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death Glo, Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee. But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee. To be revenged on him that loveth 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 soul's throat thou liest; queen Margaret saw 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 iny 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. 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. 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: Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, I never sued to friend, nor enemy; [He lays his breast open; she offers at it Nay, do not pause; for I did kill king Henry ;- I will not be thy executioner. Glo. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. Gio. That was in thy rage: Glo. Then man Was never true. Anne. Well, well, put up your sword. Glo. But shall I live in hope? I hope, live so. Glo. Vouchsafe to wear this ring. She puts on the ring. Glo. Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; Glo. That it may please you leave these sad designs 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.- Glo. Bid me farewell. Anne. 'Tis more than you deserve: [Exeunt Lady Anne, Tressel, and Berkley. Glo. Take up the corse, sirs. Gent. Towards Chertsey, noble lord? coming. [Exeunt the rest, with the corse. me, And I no friends to back my suit withal, This hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, Ha! To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. Clo. 'Tis figur'd in My tongue. Anne. I fear me, both are false. Hath she forgot already that brave prince, Edward, her lord, whom I some three months since, Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury? A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,— Fram'd in the prodigality of nature, Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal,- On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? Rir. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt his majesty Will soon recover his accustom'd health. worse: Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. Q. Eliz. If he were dead, what would betide of me? Grey. No other harm, but loss of such a lord. Q. Eliz. The loss of such a lord includes all harms. Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son, To be your comforter, when he is gone. Q. Eliz. Ah, he is young; and his minority Is put into the trust of Richard Gloster, À man, that loves not me, nor none of you. Riv. Is it concluded, he shall be protector? Q. Eliz. It is determin'd, not concluded yet: But so it must be, if the king miscarry. Enter BUCKINGHAM and STANLEY. Grey. Here come the lords of Buckingham and Stanley. Buck. Good time of day unto your royal grace! Stan. God make your majesty joyful as you have been! Q. Eliz. The countess Richmond, good my lord of Stanley, To your good prayer will scarcely say-amen. Between the duke of Gloster and your brothers, I fear, our happiness is at the height. Enter GLOSTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET. Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it : Who are they, that complain unto the king, Grey. To whom in all this presence speaks your grace? Glo. To thee, that hast nor honesty, nor grace. When have I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong? Or thee?-or thee?-or any of your faction? Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while, matter: The king, of his own royal disposition, Glo. I cannot tell;-The world is grown so bad, That wrens may prey where eagles dare not perch: Since every Jack became a gentleman, Q. Eliz. Come, come, we know your meaning, brother Gloster; You envy my advancement, and my friends s; Our brother is imprison'd by your means, Held in contempt; while great promotions That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble. Q. Eliz. By Him, that rais'd me to this careful height From that contented hap which I enjoy'd, cause Of my lord Hastings' late imprisonment. Glo. She may, lord Rivers?—why, who knows not so? She may do more, sir, than denying that: Riv. What, marry, may she? Glo. What, marry, may she? marry with a king, A bachelor, a handsome stripling too: Q. Eliz. My lord of Gloster, I have too long borne Your blunt upbraidings, and your bitter scoffs: Enter Queen MARGARET, behind. I was a pack-horse in his great affairs; Glo. In all which time, you, and your hus- Were factious for the house of Lancaster ;— And, Rivers, so were you :-Was not your hus band In Margaret's battle at Saint Albans slain? Q. Mar. A murd'rous villain, and so still Glo. Poor Clarence did forsake his father Ay, and forswore himself,-Which Jesu pardon! Q. Mar. Which God revenge! Glo. To fight on Edward's party, for the crown; And, for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up: I would to God, my heart were flint like Edward's, Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine; Q. Mar. Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave Thou cacodamon! there thy kingdom is. Riv. My lord of Gloster, in those busy days, Which here you urge, to prove us enemies, We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king; So should we you, if you should be our king. Glo. If I should be?—I had rather be a ped lar: Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof! Q. Eliz. As little joy, my lord, as you sup pose You should enjoy, were you this country's king; Q. Mar. A little joy enjoys the queen thereof; I can no longer hold me patient.- [Advancing. Q. Mar. And lessen'd be that small, God, I Which of you trembles not, that looks on me? beseech thee! If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects; bels? Yet that, by you depos'd, you quake like re Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away! Glo. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in my sight? Q. Mar. But repetition of what thou hast marr'd; That will I make, before I let thee go. Glo. Wert thou not banished on pain of death? Q. Mar. I was; but I do find more pain in banishment, Than death can yield me here by my abode. A husband, and a son, thou ow'st to me,- Glo. The curse my noble father laid on thee, When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper, And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes; And then, to dry them, gav'st the duke a clout, Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland;His curses, then from bitterness of soul Denounc'd against thee, are all fallen upon thee; And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed. Q. Eliz. So just is God, to right the innocent. Hast. O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, And the most merciless, that e'er was heard of. Rie. Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. Dors. No man but prophesied revenge for it. Buck. Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. Q. Mar. What! were you snarling all, before I came, Ready to catch each other by the throat, That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, him, That none of you may live your natural age, Glo. Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag. Q. Mar. And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me. If heaven have any grievous plague in store, Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st, Q. Mar. Richard! Q. Mar. I call thee not, Glo. I cry thee mercy then; for I did think That thou had'st call'd me all these bitter names. Q. Mar. Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply. O, let me make the period to my curse. Glo. 'Tis done by me; and ends in-Margaret. Q. Eliz. Thus have you breath'd your curse against yourself. Q. Mar. Poor painted queen, vain flourish of Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, Hast. False-boding woman, end thy frantic |