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Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood;
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,
Glo. The fitter for the King of heaven that hath him.
I grant ye.
Glo. Let him thank me, that holp to send him
Anne. And thou unfit for any place but hell.
Glo. I know so.-But, gentle Lady Anne,-
effect. 8 i.e. the crime of my brothers. He has just charged the murder of Lady Anne's husband on Edward.
Glo. Your beauty was the cause of that effect; 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'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 killd 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
Why, that was he.
Here: [She spits at him.]
Anne. Never hung poison on a fouler toad.
Glo. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.
Anne. ’Would they were basilisks, to strike thee
dead 9! Glo. I would they were, that I might die at once; For now they kill me with a living death 10. 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 11 tear,No,-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
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 tear12 ; 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.
9 See notes on King Henry V. Act v. Sc. 2, p.517; and King Henry VI. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 2, p. 198.
10 We have the same expression in Venus and Adonis applied to love :
For I have heard it is a life in death
That laughs and weeps, and all but with a breath.' Pope adopts it:
a living death I bear, Says Dapperwit, and sunk beside his chair.' And in Watson's Sonnets, printed about 1580 :
• Love is a sowre delight, a sugred griefe,
A living death, and ever-dying life.' 11 Pitiful.
12 Here is an apparent reference to King Henry VI. Part 11. Act ii, Sc. 1.
Teach not thy lip such scorn; for it was made
[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 13. 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
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.
That was in thy rage:
Anne. I would, I knew thy heart.
13 Shakspeare countenances the observation that no woman can ever be offended with the mention of her beauty.
Glo. But shall I live in hope?
[She puts on the ring.
Anne. What is it?
I beseech you,
Anne. With all my heart; and much it joys me too,
Glo. Bid me farewell.
'Tis more than
deserve: 14 Crosby Place is now Crosby Square, in Bishopsgate Street. This magnificent house was built in 1466, by Sir John Crosby, grocer and woolman. He died in 1475. The ancient hall of this fabric is still remaining, though divided by an additional floor, and encumbered with modern galleries, having been converted into a place of worship for Antinomians, &c. The upper part of it was lately the warehouse of an eminent packer. Sir J. Crosby's tomb is in the neighbouring church of St. Helen the Great.
15 i. e. expeditious.