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Is not the causer of the timeless deaths
Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most accurs'd effect.
Glo. Your beauty was the cause of that effect;
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.
[life! Anne. Black night o'ersbade thy day, and death thy 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,
Anne. It is a quarrel just and reasonable,
Glo. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,
Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth.
Why, that was he. Glo. The self-same name, but one of betler nature. Anne. Where is he?
[spit at me? Glo. Here: [She spits at him] Why dost thon 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, Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops
These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear,—
[She looks scornfully at him.
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.
Annė. 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:
Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love;
Anne. I would, I knew thy heart.
Were never true.
I hope, live so.
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, Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.
Anne. What is it?
Glo. That it may please you leave these sad designs To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, And presently repair to Crosby-place: Where-after I have solemnly interr'd At Chertsey monastry this noble king, And wet his grave with my repentant tears,I will with all expedient duty see you: For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you, Grant me this boon.
Anne. With all my heart! and much it joys me too,
Glo. Bid me farewell,
'Tis more than you deserve : Bat, since you teach me how to flatter you, Imagine I have said farewell already.
[Exeunt Lady Anne, Tressel, and Berkley. corse, sirs.
Towards Chertsey, noble lord ? Glo. No, to White-Friars; there attend my coming.
[Exeunt the rest, with the Corse. 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 extremest hate; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of her hatred by; With God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit withal, But the plain devil, and dissembling looks, And yet to win her,--all the world to nothing ! Ha ! Hath she forgot already that brave prince, Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since, Stabb’d in my angry mood at Tewksbury? A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,Fram'd in the prodigality of nature, Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal, The spacious world cannot again afford: And will she yet abase her eyes on me, That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince, And made her widow to a woful bed? On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? On me, that halt, and am mis-shapen thus? My dukedom to a beggarly denier, I do mistake my person all this while: Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, Myself to be a marvellous proper man. I'll be at charges for a looking-glass; And entertain a score or two of tailors, To study fashions to adorn my body: Since I am crept in favour with myself, I will maintain it with some little cost. But, first, I'll turn yon' fellow in his grave: And then return lamenting to my love
.. Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, That I may see my shadow as I pass.
SCENE IIl. The same. A Room in the Palace. Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, LORD RIVERS, and LORD
GREY. Riv. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt, his Will soon recover his accustom'd health. [majesty
Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse : Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, And cheer his grace with quick and merry words.
Q. Eliz. If he were dead, what would betide of me?
Q. Eliz. Ah, he is young; and his minority
Riv. Is it concluded, he shall be protector?
Q. Eliz. It is determin'd, not concluded yet : But so it must be, if the king miscarry.
Enter BUCKINGHAM and Stanley.
Stan. I do beseech you, either not believe
Q. Eliz. Saw you the king to-day, my lord of Stanley?
Stan. But now, the duke of Buckingham, and I, Are come from visiting his majesty.
Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment, lords?