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These, as I learn, and such-like toys as these,
Glo. Why, this it is, when men are rul’d by women :-
Clar. By heaven, I think there is no man secure
Glo. Humbly complaining to her deity
Brak. Beseech (8) your graces both to pardon me;
Glo. Even so; an please your worship, Brakenbury,
Brak. With this, my lord, myself have naught to do.
fellow, VOL. V.
He that doth naught with her, excepting one,
Brak. What one, my lord ?
Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.
Glo. We are the queen’s abjects, and must obey.-
Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
Glo. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;
I must perforce : farewell.
[Exeunt Clarence, Brakenbury, and Guard. Glo. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return, Simple, plain Clarence !—I do love thee so, That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, If heaven will take the present at our hands.But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings?
Glo. As much unto my good lord chamberlain !
Hast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must :
Glo. No doubt, no doubt; and go shall Clarence too;
Hast. More pity that the eagle should be mew'd,
Glo. What news abroad ?
Hast. No news so bad abroad as this at home,
Glo. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed.
Hast. He is.
SCENE II. The same. Another street.
Enter the corpse of King HENRY the Sixth, borne in an open coffin,
Gentlemen with halberds to guard it,-among them TRESSEL
Anne. Set down, set down your honourable load,
Th' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
[The Bearers set down the coffin. Poor key-cold figure of a holy king ! Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster! Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood ! Be't lawful that I invocate thy ghost, To hear the lamentations of poor Anne, Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son, Stabb'd by the selfsame hand that made these wounds! Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life, I I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes : 0, cursèd be the hand that made these holes ! Cursèd the heart that had the heart to do it! Cursèd the blood that let this blood from hence ! More direful hap betide that hated wretch, That makes us wretched by the death of thee, Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads, Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives! If ever he have child, abortive be it, Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, Whose ugly and unnatural aspect May fright the hopeful mother at the view; And that be heir to his unhappiness! If ever he have wife, let her be made More miserable by the death of him Than I am made by my young lord and thee !Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, Taken from Paul's to be interrèd there; And still, as you are weary of the weight, Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse
[The Bearers take up the coffin and move forwards.
Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend,
Glo. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys !
First Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. Glo. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command :
Advance thy halberd higher than my breast,
[The Bearers set down the coffin.
Glo. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.
Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not; For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh! Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity; For 'tis 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 butcherèd !
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:
Glo. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so angry-
Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man,