These nails fhould rend that beauty from my cheeks. Glo. These eyes could not endure that beauty's. wreck,

You fhould not blemifh it, if I ftood by :
As all the world is cheered by the fun,
So I by that; it is my day, my life.

Anne. Black night o'er-fhade thy day, and death thy life!

Glo. Curfe not thyfelf, fair creature; thou art both.
Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee.
Glo. It is a quarrel moft unnatural,

To be reveng❜d on him that loveth thee.
Anne. It is a quarrel juft and reasonable,
To be reveng❜d on him that kill'd my hufband.
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 felf-fame name, but one of better nature. Anne. Where is he?

Glo. Here: [She fpits at him.] Why doft thou spit

at me?

Anne. Would it were mortal poifon, for thy fake! Glo. Never came poifon from fo fweet a place.. Anne. Never hung poifon on a fouler toad. Out of my fight! thou doft infect mine eyes.

Glo. Thine eyes, fweet lady, have infected mine. Anne. 'Would they were bafilifks, to ftrike thee dead!

Glo. I would they were, that I might die at once; For now they kill me with a living death 4.

-they kill me with a living death.] In imitation of this paffage, and, I fuppofe, of a thousand more, Pope writes: -a living death I bear,

66

*Says Dapperwit, and funk befide his chair." JOHNSON.

Those

Thofe eyes of thine from mine have drawn falt tears,
Sham'd their afpects with store of childish drops :
5 These eyes, which never fhed remorseful tear,-
Not, when my father York and Edward wept,
To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made,
When black-fac'd Clifford fhook his fword at him:
Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,
Told the fad ftory of my father's death;

And twenty times made paufe, to fob, and weep,
That all the ftanders-by had wet their cheeks,
Like trees bedash'd with rain: in that fad time,
My manly eyes did fcorn an humble tear;
And what these forrows could not thence exhale,
Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
I never fu'd to friend, nor enemy;

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

My proud heart fues, and prompts my tongue to fpeak.
[She looks fcornfully at him.
Teach not thy lip fuch fcorn; for it was made
For kiffing, lady, not for fuch contempt.
If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,
Lo! here I lend thee this fharp-pointed fword;
Which if thou please to hide in this true breaft,
And let the foul forth that adoreth thee,

I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,

And humbly beg the death upon my knee.

[He lays his breaft open, he offers at it with his fword. Nay, do not paufe; for I did kill king Henry ;"But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd

ward;

young Ed

Thefe eyes, which never &c.] The twelve following beautiful lines added after the first editions. POPE.

They were added with many more. JOHNSON.

But 'twas thy beauty] Shakespeare countenances the obfervation, that no woman can ever be offended with the mention of her beauty. JOHNSON.

But 'twas thy heavenly face that fet me on.

[She lets fall the fword

Take up the fword again, or take up me.

Anne. Arife, diffembler; though I wish thy death, I will not be thy executioner.

Glo. Then bid me kill myfelf, 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 fhalt thou be acceffary.
Anne. I would, I knew thy heart.
Glo. 'Tis figur'd in my tongue.

Anne. I fear me, both are falfe.

Glo. Then never man was true.

Anne. Well, well, put up your fword.

Glo. Say then, my peace is made.

Anne. That fhall you know hereafter.
Glo. But fhall I live in hope?
Anne. All men, I hope, live fo.
Glo. Vouchfafe to wear this ring.

Ane. To take is not to give.

[She puts on the ring

Glo. Look, how this ring encompaffeth thy finger,,
Even fo thy breast encloseth my poor heart;
Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
And if thy poor devoted fervant may

But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Thou doft confirm his happiness for ever.
Anne. What is it?

Glo. That it may pleafe you leave thefe fad defigns
To him that hath more caufe to be a mourner,
And prefently repair to Crofby-place 7:

7

Where

Crofty-place: A house near Bishopfgate-street, belong ing to the duke of Glofter. JoHNSON.

Crofty-Place is now Crofty-fquare in Bishopfgate-street; part of

the

Where-after I have folemnly interr'd,
At Chertsey monaft'ry this noble king,
And wet his grave with my repentant tears,-
I will with all expedient duty fee you:

For divers unknown reafons, I beseech you,
Grant me this boon.

Anne. With all my heart; and much it joys me too, To fee you are become fo penitent.

.8

Treffel, and Berkley, go along with me.
Glo. Bid me farewel

Anne. 'Tis more than you deferve:

But, fince you teach me how to flatter you
Imagine I have faid farewel already.

[Exeunt two, with lady Anne.

Glo. Take up the corse, firs.

Gen. Towards Chertsey, noble lord?

Glo. No, to White-Fryars; there attend my

coming.

[Exeunt the reft, with the corfe.

Was ever woman in this humour woo'd

Was ever woman in this humour won?

I'll have her, but I will not keep her long.
What! I, that kill'd her husband, and his father,
To take her in her heart's extremeft hate;

With curfes in her mouth, tears in her eyes,

The bleeding witnefs of her hatred by;

With God, her confcience, and thefe bars against me,
And I no friends to back my fuit withal,

But the plain devil, and diffembling looks,
And yet to win her, -all the world to nothing!
Ha!

Hath fhe forgot already that brave prince,

the houfe is yet remaining, and is a meeting place for a prefbyterian congregation, Sir J. HAWKINS.

8

Imagine, I have faid farewel already.] Cibber, who altered Rich. III. for the flage, was fo thoroughly convinced of the ridiculoufnefs and improbability of this fcene, that he thought himfelf obliged to make Treffel fay :

When future chronicles shall speak of this,
They will be thought romance, not biftory.
C 3

STEEVENS.

Ed

Edward, her lord, whom I, fome three months fince,
Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
A fweeter and a lovelier gentleman,-
9 Fram'd in the prodigality of nature,

Young, valiant, wife, and, no doubt, right royal',

The fpacious world cannot again afford :
And will the yet abase her eyes on me,

That cropp'd the golden prime of this fweet prince,
And made her widow to a woeful bed?

On me, whofe all not equals Edward's moiety?
On me, that halt, and am mishapen thus ?
My dukedom to a beggarly denier,

I do mistake my perfon all this while :
Upon my life, the finds, although I cannot,
Myself to be a marvellous proper man.
I'll be at charges for a looking-glafs;
And entertain a score or two of taylors,
To study fashions to adorn my body:
Since I am crept in favour with myself,
I will maintain it with fome little coft.
But, firft, I'll turn yon' fellow in his grave;
And then return lamenting to my love.-

9 Fram'd in the prodigality of nature,] i. e. when nature was in a prodigal or lavish mood. WARBURTON.

-and, no doubt, right royal,-] Of the degree of royalty belonging to Henry the fixth there could be no doubt, nor could Richard have mentioned it with any fuch hefitation; he could not indeed very properly allow him royalty. I believe we should read:

and, no doubt, right loyal.

That is, true to her bed. He enumerates the reasons for which she should love him. He was young, wife, and valiant; these were apparent and indifputable excellencies. He then mentions another not lefs likely to endear him to his wife, but which he had lefs opportunity of knowing with certainty, and, no doubt right loyal. JOHNSON.

Richard is not fpeaking of king Henry, but of Edward his fon, whom he means to reprefent as full of all the noble properties of a king. No doubt, right royal, may, however, be ironically spoken, alluding to the incontinence of Margaret, his mother. STEEVENS.