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With Henry's life, with my lov'd lord's, young Ed
And here let out thy own, to appease their ghosts.
Glost. By such despair I should accuse myself. Lady A. Why by despairing only canst thou stand excus'd?
Didst thou not kill the king?
Glost. I grant ye.
Lady A. Oh! he was gentle, loving, mild, and virtuous;
But he's in heaven, where thou canst never come.
Lady A. Some dungeon.
Glost. Your bedchamber.
Lady A. Ill rest betide the chamber, where thou
Glost. So it will, madam, till I lie in yours.
Lady A. I hope so.
Glost. I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne,
Lady A. Thou wert the cause, and most accurs'd effect.
Glost. Your beauty was the cause of that effect,
So I might live one hour in that soft bosom?
Lady A. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, These hands should rend that beauty from my
Glost. These eyes could not endure that beauty's
You should not blemish it, if I stood by :
Lady A. I would it were, to be reveng'd on thee.
Glost. Fair creature, he, that kill'd thy husband, Did it to help thee to a better husband.
Lady A. His better does not breathe upon the earth;
Glost. He lives, that loves thee better than he
Lady A. Name him.
Lady A. Why, that was he.
Glost. The self-same name, but one of softer nature.
Lady A. Where is he?
Glost. Ah, take more pity in thy eyes, and see him
Lady A. would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead!
Glost. I would they were, that I might die at
For now they kill me with a living death:
My tongue could never learn soft smoothing words;
My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak.
Lady A. Is there a tongue on earth, can speak for
Why dost thou court my hate?
Glost. Oh, teach not thy soft lips such cold contempt!
If thy relentless heart cannot forgive,
Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword,
And humbly beg that death, upon my knee.
Lady A. What shall I say, or do? direct me,
When stones weep, sure the tears are natural;
When they do flow from a sincere repentance. [Aside.
But, 'twas thy wondrous beauty did provoke me;
But, 'twas thy heav'nly face that set me on:
[She drops the Sword.
Take up the sword again, or take up me.
I will not be thy executioner.
Glost. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. Lady A. I have, already.
Glost. That was in thy rage;
Say it again, and even with thy word,
This guilty hand, that robb'd thee of thy love,
Yet, even in death, my fleeting soul pursues thee;
I ask but leave to indulge my cold despair.
Lady A. Wouldst thou not blame me, to forgive thy crimes?
Glost. They are not to be forgiven; no, not even Penitence can atone them-Oh, misery
Of thought, that strikes me with, at once, repent
And despair!-though unpardon'd, yield me pity.
Glost. Say, then, my peace is made.
Glost. But, shall I live in hope?
Lady A. All men, I hope, live so.
Glost. I swear, bright saint, I am not what I was! Those eyes have turn'd my stubborn heart to wo
Thy goodness makes me soft in penitence,
And my harsh thoughts are turn'd to peace and love. Oh! if thy poor, devoted servant might
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Thou wouldst confirm his happiness for ever!
Lady A. What is't?
Glost. That it may please thee, leave these sad de
To him, that has most cause to be a mourner,
Lady A. I do, my lord, and much it joys me too, To see you are become so penitent. Tressel, and Stanley, go along with me. Glost. Bid me farewell.
Lady A. 'Tis more than you deserve.
But, since you teach me how to flatter you,
Glost. No, to Whitefriars; there attend my com[Exeunt GUARDS, with the Body.
Was ever woman, in this humour, woo'd ?
Having Heaven, her conscience, and these bars, against me,
And I, no friends to back my suit withal,