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For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood Glo. The fitter for the King of heaven, that From cold and empty veins, where no blood hath him. dwells;

Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural, Provokes this deluge most unnatural.

Glo. Let him thank me, that holp to send him O God, which this blood mad’st, revenge his

thither ; death!

For he was fitter for that place, than earth, O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge

his Anne. And thou unfit for any place but hell. death!

Glo. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me Either, heaven, with lightning strike the mur- name it. derer dead,

Anne. Some dungeon. Or, earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick ; Glo. Your bed-chamber. As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood, Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered !

liest! Glo. Lady, you know no rules of charity, Glo. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. Anne. I hope so. Anne. Villain, thou know'st no law of God Glo. I know so.—But, gentle lady Anne, nor man ;

To leave this keen encounter of our wits, No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity. And fall somewhat into a slower method ;

Glo. But I know none, and therefoream nobeast. Is not the causer of the timeless deaths Anne. () wonderful, when devils tell the truth! Of these Plantagenets, Henry, and Edward, Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so As blameful as the executioner ? angry:

Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most accurs'd Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,

effect. Of these supposed evils, to give me leave, Glo. Your beauty was the cause of that effect; By circumstance, but to acquit myself. Your beauty, which did haunt me in my sleep,

Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, To undertake the death of all the world,
For these known evils, but to give me leave, So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom.
By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self. Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
Glo. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me These nails should rend that beauty from my

cheeks. Some patient leisure to excuse myself.

Glo. These eyes could not endure that beauty's Anne. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou wreck; canst make

You should not blemish it, if I stood by:
No excuse current, but to hang thyself. As all the world is cheered by the sun,

Glo. By such despair I should accuse myself. So I by that; it is my day, my life,
Anne. And, by despairing, shalt thou stand Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death

For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,

Glo, Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art Thou didst unworthy slaughter upon others.

both. Gbo. Say, that I slew them not?

Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee. Anne. Why then, they are not dead :

Glo. It is a quarrel most unnatural, 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. It is a quarrel just and reasonable, anne. Why, then he is alive.

To be reveng'd on himn that kill'd my husband. Glo. Nay, he is dead ; and slain by Edward's Glo. He, that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband, hand.

Did it to help thee to a better husband. Anne. In thy soul's throat thou liest ; queen Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the Margaret saw

earth. Thy murderous faulchion smoking in his blood; Glo. He lives, that loves you better than he The which thou once didst bend against her breast,

But that thy brothers beat aside the point. Anne. Name him,

Glo. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue, Glo. Plantagenet.
That laid their guilt upon iny guiltless shoulders. Anne. Why, that was he.

Aune. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind, Glo. The self-same name, but one of better
That never dreamt on aught but butcheries :

nature, Didst thou not kill this king ?

Anne, Where is he? Glo. I grant ye.

Glo. Here; [She spits at him.] Why dost Anne. Dost grant me, hedge-hog? then, God thou spit at me? grant me too,

Anne. 'Would it were mortal poison, for thy Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deed !

sake! (), he was gentk, mild, and virtuous.

Glo. Never came poison from so sweet a place.

thy life!

Anne. Never hung poison on a fouler toad. Glo. Then man
Out of my siglıt! thou dost infect mine eyes. Was never true.
Glo. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected Anne. Well, well, put up your sword.

Glo. Say then, my peace is made.
Anne. 'Would they were basilisks, to strike Anne. That shall you know
thee dead!

Glo. I would they were, that I might die at Glo. But shall I live in hope ?
once ;

Anne. All men,
For now they kill me with a living death. I hope, live so.
Those wyes of thine from mine have drawn salt Glo. Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

Anne. To take is not to give.
Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops:

[She puts on the ring. These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear,- Glo. Look, how this ring encompasseth thy Not when my father York and Edward wept,

finger, To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made, Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. him:

And if thy poor devoted servant may Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, Told the sad story of my father's death ; Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. And twenty times made pause, to sob, and weep, Anne. What is it? That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks, Glo. That it may please you leave these sad Like trees bedash'd with rain : in that sad time designs My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear ; To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, And presently repair to Crosby-place: Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with Where-after I have solemnly interr’d, weeping.

At Chertsey monast'ry, this noble king, I never sued to friend, nor enemy;

And wet his grave with my repentant tears, Nytongue could never learn sweet soothing word; I will with all expedient duty see you: But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee, For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you, My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to Grant me this boon.

speak. [She looks scornfully at him. Anne. With all my heart, and much it joys Teach not thy lip such scorn ; for it was made

me too, For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. To see you are become so penitent.If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,

Tressel and Berkley, go along with me. Lo! herc I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; Glo. Bid me farewell. Which if thou please to hide in this true breast, Anne. 'Tis more than you deserve: And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, But, since you teach me how to flatter you, I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,

Imagine I have said farewell already. And humbly beg the death upon my knee.

[Exeunt Lady Anne, Tressel, and Berkley. [He lays his breast open ; she offers at it Glo. Take


the with his suord.

Gent. Towards Chertsey, noble lord ? Nay, do not pause ; for I did kill king Henry ;- Glo. No, to White-Friars; there attend my But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me.

coming. [Exeunt the rest, with the corse. Nay, now despatch ; 'twas I, that stabb'd young Was ever wonan in this humour woo'd ?

Edward ;- [She again offersathis breast. Was ever woman in this humour won ? But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. I'll have her,--but I will not keep her long.

[She lets fall the sword. What! I, that kill'd her husband, and his father, Take up the sword again, or take up me. To take her in her heart's extremest hate; Anne. Arise, dissembler ; though I wish thy with curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, death,

The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; I will not be thy executioner.

With God, her conscience, and these bars against Glo. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.

me, Anne. I have already.

And I no friends to back my suit withal, Glo. That was in thy rage:

But the plain devil, and dissembling looks, Speak it again, and even with the word, And yet to win her,-all the world to nothing ! This hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, Ha! Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love; Hath she forgot already that brave prince, To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. Edward, her lord, whom some three months Anne. I would, I knew thy heart.

since, ( lo. 'Tis figur'd in

Stabb’d in my angry mood at Tewksbury? I v ton uc

A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,Anne. I fear me, botli arc false.

Tram'd in the prodigality of nature,

corse, sirs.

On me,

worse :

Young, valiant, wise, and, nodoubt, right royal,- | Bear with her weakness, which, I think, proThe spacious world cannot again afford :

ceeds And will she yet abase her eyes on me,

From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince, Q. Eliz. Saw you the king to-day, my lord of And made her widow to a woful bed ?

Stanley ? whose all not equals Edward's moiety ? Sian. But now, the duke of Buckingham, and I, me, that halt, and am misshapen thus ! Are come from visiting his majesty. My dukedom to a beggarly denier,

Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment, I do mistake my person all this while :

lords? pou my life, she finds, although I cannot, Buck. Madam, good hope ; his grace speaks Virself to be a marvellous proper man.

cheerfully. Iti be at charges for a looking-glass;

Q. Eliz. God grant him health! Did you conAnd entertain a score or two of tailors,

fer with him? To study fashions to adorn my body:

Buck. Ay, madam : he desires to make atone, Since I am crept in favour with myself,

ment I will maintain it with some little cost.

Between the duke of Gloster and your brothers, But, first, I'll turn yon' fellow in his grave; And between them and my lord chamberlain ; And then return lamenting to my love.- And sent to warn them to his royal presence. Suine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, Q. Eliz. 'Would all were well ! --But that Ti2t I may see my shadow as I pass. [Erit. will never be ;

I fcar, our happiness is at the height. SCENE III.—The same. A room in the palace.

Enter GLOSTER, HASTINGS, and Dorset. Enter Queen ELIZABETII, Lord Rivers, and

Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not enLord GREY.

dure it:kir. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt Who are they, that complain unto the king, his majesty

That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not? 17l soon recover his accustom'd health. By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly, Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours,

Because I cannot flatter, and speak fair, Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good com- Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, fort,

Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. I must be held a rancorous enemy; Q. Eliz. If he were dead, what would betide Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm, of me?

But thus his simple truth must be abus'd Grey. No other harm, but loss of such a lord. By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks ? Q. Eliz. The loss of such a lord includes all Grey. To whom in all this presence speaks harms.

your grace? Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with a Glo. To thee, that hast nor honesty, nor goodly son,

grace. To be your comforter, when he is gone. When have I injur'd thee? when done thee

Q. Eliz. Ah, he is young; and his minority
Is put into the trust of Richard Gloster, Or thee ?-or thee?-or any of your faction ?
A man, that loves not me, nor none of you. A plague upon you all! His royal grace,-
Rev. Is it concluded, he shall be protector ? Whom God prescrve better than you would
Q. Eliz. It is deterinin'd, not concluded yet: wish
But so it must be, if the king miscarry.

Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while,

But you must trouble him with lewd complaints. Enter Buckingham and STANLEY.

Q. Elim. Brother of Gloster, you mistake the Grey. Here come the lords of Buckingham matter : and Stanley.

The king, of his own royal disposition, Buck. Good time of day unto your royal grace! And not provok'd by any suitor else ; Sun, God make your majesty joyful as you Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred, have been !

That in your outward action shows itself, Q. Eliz. The countess Richmond, good my Against my children, brothers, and myself, lord of Stanley,

Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather To your good prayer will scarcely say—amen. The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it. Yet , Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife,

Glo. I cannot tell ;--The world is grown so And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur’d,

bad, I hate not you for her prouil arrogance.

That wrens may prey where eagles dare not Slin. I do beseech you, either not believe

perch: T!! Sious slanders of her false accusers;

Since every Jack became a gentlernan, Or, if so be arou'd on true report,

There's many a gentle person made a Jack.





Q. Eliz. Come, come, we know your mean- | I was a pack-horse in his great affairs ; ing, brother Gloster;

A weeder-out of his proud adversaries, You envy my advancement, and my friends; A liberal rewarder of his friends; God grant, we never may have need of you ! To royalize his blood, I spilt mine own. Glo. Meantime, God grants that we have need Q. Mar. Ay, and much better blood than his, of you!

or thine. Our brother is imprison'd by your means, Glo. In all which time, you, and your hus. Myself disgrac'd, and the nobility

band Grey, Held in contempt; while great promotions

Were factious for the house of Lancaster ;Are daily given, to enoble those

And, Rivers, so were you :~Was not your huse That scarce, some two days since, were worth a band noble.

In Margaret's battle at Saint Albans slain ? Q. Eliz. By Him, that rais'd me to this care- Let me put in your minds, if you forget, ful height

What you have been ere now, and what you are; From that contented hap which I enjoy’d, Withal, what I have been, and what I am. I never did incense his majesty

Q. Mar. A murd’rous villain, and so still Against the duke of Clarence, but have been

thou art. An earnest advocate to plead for him.

Glo. Poor Clarence did forsake his father DIy lord, you do me shameful injury,

Warwick, Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. Ay, and forswore himself,—Which Jesu parGlo. You may deny that you were not the don!

Q. Mar. Which God revenge ! Of my lord Hastings' late imprisonment.

Glo. To fighton

Edward's party, for the crown; Riv. She may, my lord; for

And, for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up: Glo. She may, lord Rivers?—why, who knows I would to God, my heart were flint like Èdnot so?

She may do more, sir, than denying that: Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine;
She may help you to many fair preferments; I am too childish-foolish for this world.
And then deny her aiding hand therein,

Q. Mar. Hie thee to hell for shame, and leavo And lay those honours on your high desert.

this world, What

may she not? She may, -ay, marry, may Thou cacodæmon! there thy kingdom is.

Riv. My lord of Gloster, in those busy days, Riv. What, marry, may she?

Which here you urge, to prove us enemies, Glo. What, marry, may she? marry with a We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king; king,

So should we you, if you should be our king. A bachelor, a handsome stripling too:

Glo. If I should be?-I had rather be a pedI wis, your grandam had a worser match. Q. Eliz. Niy lord of Gloster, I have too long Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof! borne

Q. Eliz. As little joy, my lord, as you supYour blunt upbraidings, and your bitter scoffs : pose By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty You should enjoy, were you this country's king; Of those gross taunts often have endur'd. As little joy you may suppose in me, I had rather be a country servant-maid, That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. Than a great queen, with this condition

Q. Mar. A little joy enjoys the queen thereof; Po be so baited, scorn'd, and stormed at : For I am she, and altogether joyless. Small joy have I in being England's queen. I can no longer hold me patient. [Adrancing.

Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out Enter Queen MARGARET, behind.

In sharing that, which you have pill’d from me: Q. Dur. 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 subThy honour, state, and scat, is due to me.

jects; Glo. What? threat you me with telling of Yet that, by you depos'd, you quake like rethe king?

bels? Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have said Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away! I will avouch, in presence of the king:

Glo. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower.

in my sight? "Tis time to speak, my pains are quite forgot. Q. Dlar. But repetition of what thou hast Q. Mar. Out, devil ! I remeniber them too marr’d; well:

That will I make, before I let thee go. Thou kill’dst my husband Henry in the Tower, Glo. Wert thou not banished on pain of death? And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. Q. Mar. I was; but I do find more pain in Glo. Ere you were queen, ay, or your hus- banishment, band king

Thun death can yield me here by my abode,

lar :



see it.

my fortune!


A husband, and a son, thou ow'st to me,- Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st,
And thou, a kingdom ;-all of you, allegiance : And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
This sorrow, that I have, by right is yours ; No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
And all the pleasures, you usurp, are mine. Unless it be, while some tormenting dream

Glo. The curse my noble father laid on thee,- Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils !
When thou didst crown his warlike brows with Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog !

Thou, that wast seal'd in thy nativity
And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes; The slave of nature, and the son of hell !
And then, to dry them, gav'st the duke a clout, Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb !
Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland;- Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins !
Ilis curses, then from bitterness of soul

Thou rag of honour ! thou detested
Denounc'd against thee, are all fallen upon thee; Glo. Margaret.
And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed. Q. Mar. Richard !

Q. Eliz. So just is God, to right the innocent. Glo. Ha?
Hast. O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that Q. Mar. I call thee not,

Glo. I

cry thee mercy then ; for I did thinke And the most merciless, that e'er was heard of. That thou had'st call’d me all these bitter names. Riv. Tyrants themselves wept when it was Q. Mar. Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply. reported.

0, let me make the period to my curse. Dors. No man but prophesied revenge for it. Glo. 'Tis done by me; and ends in-Margaret. Buck. Northumberland, then present, wept to Q. Eliz. Thus have you breath'd your curse

against yourself. Q. Mar. What! were you snarling all, be- Q. Mar. Poor painted queen, vain flourish of

fore I came, Ready to catch each other by the throat, Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, And turn you all your hatred now on me? Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? Did York's dread' curse prevail so much with Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. heaven,

The day will come, that thou shalt wish for me That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, To help thee curse this pois’nous bunch-back'd Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment,

toad. Could all but answer for that peevish brat ? Hast. False-boding woman, end thy frantic Can curses pierce the clouds, and enter heaven?

curse ; Why, then give way, dull clouds, to my quick Lest, to thy harm, thou move our patience. curses !

Q. Mar. Foul shame upon you ! you have all Though not by war, by surfeit die your king,

moy'd mine. As ours by murder, to make him a king ! Riv. Were you well serv'd, you would be Edward, thy son, that now is prince of Wales, taught your duty. For Edward, my son, that was prince of Wales, Q. Mar. To serve me well, you all should do Die in his youth, by like untimely violence !

me duty, Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, Teach me to be yourqueen, and you my subjects: Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self! O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that

duty. Long may'st thou live, to wail thy children's loss; Dor. Dispute not with her, she is lunatic. And see another, as I see thee now,

Q. Mar. Peace, master marquis, you are malDeck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall’d in mine! apert: Long die thy happy days before thy death; Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current: And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief, O, that your young nobility could judge, Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen!- What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable ! Rivers,—and Dorset,-you were standers by,— They, that stand high, have many blasts to shake And so wast thou, lord Hastings,—when my son Was stabb'd with bloody daggers; God, I pray And, if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. him,

Glo.Good counsel, marry ;-learn it, learn it, That none of you may live your natural age,

marquis. But by some unlook’a accident cut off!

Dor. It touches you, my lord, as much as me. Glo. Have done thy charm, thou hateful wi- Glo. Ay, and much more: But I was born so ther'd hag.

high, Q. Mar. And leave out thee? stay, dog, for Our aiery buildeth in the cedar's top, thou shalt hear me.

And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun. If heaven have any grievous plague in store, Q. Mar. And turns the sun to shade ;-alas, Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,

alas ! 0, let them keep it, till thy sins be ripe, Witness my son, now in the shade of death ; And then hurl down their indignation

Whose brightout-shining beams thy cloudy wrath On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace! Hath in eternal darkness folded up. The worm of conscience still be-gnaw thy soul! | Your aiery buildeth in our aiery's nest :


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