For these known evils, but to give me leave, By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self. 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, shouldst thou stand excus'd For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, That didst unworthy slaughter upon others. Glo. Say that I slew them not? Anne. Why, then, they are not dead: Why, then, he is alive. But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee. Anne. Glo. Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. 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 provoked by her slanderous tongue, Anne. Dost grant me, hedgehog ? then, God grant me too Thou mayst be damnèd 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. Glo. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. Glo. Your bed-chamber. Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest! Anne. I hope so. Glo. I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, To leave this keen encounter of our wits, 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; So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. Glo. These eyes could not endure that beauty's wreck; You should not blemish it, if I stood by: As all the world is cheerèd 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, Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth. Glo. Anne. Plantagenet. Why, that was he. Glo. The selfsame name, but one of better nature. 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! 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! Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, And twenty times made pause to sob and weep, My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing words; My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. Teach not thy lips such scorn; for they were made If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; And let the soul forth that adoreth, thee, I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, And humbly beg the death upon my knee. [Gives her his sword, and lays his breast open, kneeling. Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry,-— [She offers at his breast with his sword. But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward,— But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. [She again offers at his breast. [She lets fall the sword. Take I will not be thy executioner. Glo. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. Anne. I have already. Glo. [Rises, and takes up his sword. That was in thy rage: Speak it again, and, even with the word, This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love, To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. Anne. I would I knew thy heart. Glo. 'Tis figur'd in my tongue. Glo. Then never man was true. Anne. To take, is not to give. [She puts on the ring. Glo. Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. And if thy poor devoted servant may But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. Anne. What is it? Glo. That it may please you leave these sad designs To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, And presently repair to Crosby-place ; Anne. With all my heart; and much it joys me too Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me. Glo. Bid me farewell. Anne. 'Tis more than you deserve; But since you teach me how to flatter you, [Exeunt Lady Anne, Tressel, and Berkeley. Glo. Sirs, take up the corse. Gent. Towards Chertsey, noble lord? [Exeunt all, except Gloster. Glo. No, to White-Friars; there attend my coming. 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. To take her in her heart's extremest hate; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ;(9) Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, But the plain devil and dissembling looks, And yet to win her, all the world to nothing! Ha! 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- Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal-(10) And will she yet abase her eyes on me, That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince, On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? My dukedom to a beggarly denier, I do mistake my person all this while : |