« VorigeDoorgaan »
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 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,
First Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.
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 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:
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,
For these known evils, but to give me leave,
Glo. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have
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, shouldst thou stand excus'd
Glo. Say that I slew them not?
Why, then, they are not dead: But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.
Glo. I did not kill your husband.
Why, then, he is alive.
Anne. In thy foul throat thou liest : Queen Margaret saw 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 provokèd by her slanderous tongue,
Anne. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind,
Anne. Dost grant me, hedgehog ? then, God grant me too Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed ! O, 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.
I grant ye.
I know 80.-But, gentle Lady Anne, To leave this keen encounter of our wits, And fall somewhát 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;
Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
Glo. These eyes could not endure that beauty's wreck;
Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life!
Glo. It is a quarrel most unnatural,
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,
Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth.
Why, that was he.
Here. [She spits at him.] Why dost
Anne. Never hung poison on a fouler toad.
Glo. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.