Taken from Paul's to be interred there; 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. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command: Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, Provokes this deluge most unnatural.—— O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death I 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, man: No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity. Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, 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 excus'd; For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, That didst unworthy slaughter upon others. 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 faulchion 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, That laid their guilt upon my guiltlesss 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. Anne. Dost grant me, hedge-hog? then, God grant me too, Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deed! 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. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. Glo. I know so.-But, gentle lady Anne,- Of these Plantagenets, Henry, and Edward, Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most accurs'd 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: Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death Glo. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both. To be reveng'd'on him that loveth thee. Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth. Anne. Why, that was he. Glo. The self-same name, but one of better nature. Glo. Here: [She spits at him.] Why dost thou spit at me? Anne. 'Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! Glo. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. 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 Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops: And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, I never su'd to friend, nor enemy; My tougue could never learn sweet soothing word: My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, Lo! here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, [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, To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. Glo. 'Tis figur'd in My tongue. I fear me, both are false. Glo. Then man Anne. Was never true. Well, well, put up your sword. Glo. Say then, my peace is made. Anne. That shall you know Hereafter. Glo. 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, Glo. That it may please you leave these sad designs |