[us not;

Thou hadst but power over his mortal body,
His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone.
Glo. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.
Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble
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 :—
Oh, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds
Open their congeal'd mouths, and bleed afresh !9—
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 ;
No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity.
Glo. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
Anne. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!
Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so angry.—
Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,

Of these supposed evils, to give me leave,

By circumstance, but to acquit myself.

Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man,'

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.

[8] Pattern is instance or example. JOHNSON.

9 It is a tradition very generally received, that the murdered body bleeds on the touch of the murderer. This was so much believed by sir Kenelm Digby, that he has endeavoured to explain the reason. JOHNSON.

[1] I believe, diffused, in this place, signifies irregular, uncouth: such is its meaning in other passages of Shakspeare. JOHNSON.- -Diffus'd infection of a man may mean, thou that art as dangerous as a pestilence, that infects the air by its diffusion. STEEVENS

Glo. By such despair, I should accuse myself.

Anne. And, by despairing, shalt 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 :

But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by 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 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 sland'rous tongue,
That laid their guilt upon my 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.3

Anne. Dost grant me, hedge-hog? 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.

Glo. Yes, cne place else, if you will hear me name it. Anne. Some dungeon.

Glo. Your bed-chamber.

Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest.
Glo. So will it, madam, till I lie with you.

Anne. I hope so.

Glo. I know so.-But, gentle lady Anne,-
To leave this keen encounter of our wits,
And fall somewhat 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;

[2] The crimes of my brothers. He has just charged the murder of Lady Anne's husband upon Edward. JOH.-[3] Read to perfect the measure: I grant ye, yea.BITSON. One of the quartos, instead of ye, reads-yea. STEEVENS.

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 :

As all the world is cheered by the sun,

So I by that; it is my day, my life.

Anne. Black night o'er-shade 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,
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. Name him.

Glo. Plantagenet.

Anne. Why, that was he.

Glo. The self-same 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!
Glo. Never came poison from so sweet a place.
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:
These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear,
Not, when my father York and Edward wept,
To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made,
When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at him:
Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,
Told the sad story of my father's death;
And twenty times made pause, to sob, and weep,
That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks,

Like trees bedash'd with rain: in that sad time,
My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;

And what these sorrows could not thence exhale,

Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
I never su'd to friend, nor enemy;

My tongue could never learn sweet soothing word ;
But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee,

My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak.
[She looks scornfully at him.
Teach not thy lip such scorn; for it was made
For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.

If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,

Lo! here I lend thee this sharp pointed sword;
Which, if thou please to hide in this true breast,
And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,

I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,

And humbly beg the death upon my knee.

[He lays his breast open; she offers at it with his sword. Nay, do not pause; for I did kill king Henry ;—

But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me.

Nay, now despatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward;—

[She again offers at his breast.

But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on.

[She lets fall the sword.

Take up the sword again, or take up me.

Anne. Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death,

I will not be thy executioner.

Glo. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.
Anne. I have already.

Glo. That was in thy rage:

Speak it again, and, even with the word,

This hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love,

Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love;

To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary.
Anne. I would, I knew thy heart.

Glo. 'Tis figur'd in

My tongue.

Anne. I fear me, both are false.

Glo. Then man

Was never true.

Anne. Well, well, put up your sword.

Glo. Say then, my peace is made.
Anne. That shall you know

Hereafter.

Gló. But shall I live in hope?

Anne. All men,

I hope, live so.

Glo. Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

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: Where-after I have solemnly interr'd, At Chertsey monast'ry this noble king, And wet his grave with my repentant tears,I will with all expedient duty see you: For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you, Grant me this boon.

Anne. With all my heart; and much it joys me too To see you are become so penitent.

Tressel, and Berkley, go along with me.

Glo. Bid me farewell.

Anne. 'Tis more than you deserve;

But, since you teach me how to flatter you,

Imagine I have said farewell already."

[Exeunt Lady ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKLEY.

[5] Crosby-Place is now Crosby-square in Bishopsgate Street; part of the house is yet remaining, and is a meeting-place for a presbyterian congregation.

SIR J. HAWKINS. [6] Cibber, who altered King Richard III. for the stage, was so thoroughly convinced of the ridiculousness and improbability of this scene, that he thought himself obliged to make Tressel say:

Whe: future chronicles shall speak of this,
They will be thought romance, not history.

From an account of our late unsuccessful embassy to the emperor of China, we learn, indeed, that a scene of equal absurdity was represented in a theatre at Tien-sing "One of the dramas, particularly, attracted the attention of those who recollectea scenes. somewhat similar, upon the English stage. The piece represented an Empe ror of China and his Empress living in supreme felicity, when, on a sudden, his subjects revolt, a civil war ensues, battles are fought, and at last the arch-rebel, who was a general of cavalry, overcomes his sovereign, kills him with his own hand, and routs the imperial army. The captive Empress then appears upon the stage in all the ago nies of despair, naturally resulting from the loss of her husband and of her dignity, as well as the apprehension for that of her honour. Whilst she is tearing her hair, and rending the skies with her complaints, the conqueror enters, approaches her with respect, addresses her in a gentle tone, soothes her sorrows with his compassion, talks of love and adoration, and like Richard the Third with Lady Anne, in Shakspeare, prevails in less than half an hour, on the Chinese Princess to dry up her tears, to torget her deceased consort, and yield to a consoling wooer." STEEVENS.

VOL. IV.

31