Is to become her husband, and her father; By marrying her, which I must reach unto. Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns; When they are gone, then must I count my gains. [Exit. SCENE II. The same. ·Another Street. Enter the corpse of KING HENRY THE SIXTH, borne in an open coffin, Gentlemen bearing halberds, to guard it; and LADY ANNE as mourner. Anne. Set down, set down your honorable load,- Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament Stabbed by the self-same hand that made these wounds! May fright the hopeful mother at the view; 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!- And, still as you are weary of the weight, [The bearers take up the corpse, and advance. Enter GLOSTER. Glo. Stay you, that bear the corse, and set it down. Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend, To stop devoted, charitable deeds? Glo. Villains, set down the corse; or, by saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys. 1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. Glo. Unmannered dog! stand thou when I command: Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, Or, by saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, [The bearers set down the coffin. Anne. What, do you tremble? are you all afraid? Thou hadst but power over his mortal body; His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone. Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not; O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds Provokes this deluge most unnatural. O, God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death! Glo. Lady, you know no rules of charity, Of these supposed evils, to give me leave, By circumstance, but to acquit myself. Anne. Vouchsafe, diffused 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. Glo. By such despair, I should accuse myself. Anne. And, by despairing, shalt thou stand excused; 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, Glo. I was provoked by her slanderous tongue, Glo. 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. Anne. Some dungeon. Glo. Your bed-chamber. Anne. Il rest betide the chamber where thou liest! Glo. 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 accursed effect. 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! To be revenged on him that loveth thee. Anne. It is a quarrel just and reasonable, Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth. Glo. Anne. Plantagenet. 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, Shamed their aspécts with store of childish drops. These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear,No, when my father, York and Edward wept, To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made, When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him; Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, My tongue could never learn sweet soothing word; 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; 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 Nay, do not pause; for I did kill king Henry;- Nay, now despatch; 'twas I that stabbed 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. 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. |