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Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. *
And now, instead of mounting barbed + steeds,
But I, that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
Of Edward's heirs the murderers shall be.
Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKEN.
Brother, good day: What means this armed guard,
That waits upon your grace?
Clar. His majesty,
Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed,
Glo. Upon what cause?
That trudge betwixt the king and mistress
Heard you not, what an humble suppliant
Glo. Humbly complaining to her deity
Are mighty gossips in this monarchy.
Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon
His majesty hath straitly given in charge,
You may partake of any thing we say:
A bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue;
Glo. Naught to do with mistress Shore? I tell
He that doth naught with her, excepting one
Glo. Her husband, knave :-Would'st thou be-
Brak. I beseech your grace to pardon me
Forbear your conference with the noble duke.
Glo. We are the queen's abjects, † and must
Brother, farewell: I will unto the king;
Clar. Because my name is-George.
He should, for that, commit your godfathers
As yet I do not: but, as I can learn,
Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well. Glo. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;
will deliver you, or else lie for you: Mean time, have patience.
Clar. I must perforce; farewell.
[Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard.
Glo. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er
Simple, plain Clarence!-I do love thee so,
Hast. Good time of day unto my gracious lord!
Glo. As much anto my good lord chamber.
Well are you welcome to this open air.
Hast. More pity that the eagle should be | Taken from Paul's to be interred there; mew'd
While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.
Glo. What news abroad?
Hast. No news so bad abroad, as this at
The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy,
Glo. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad
Oh! he hath kept an evil diet long,
Hast. He is.
Glo. Go you before, and I will follow you.
I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
And leave the world for ine to bustle in!
I'll marry daughter:
What though I kill'd her husband and her fa-
The readiest way to make the wench amends,
Anne. Set down, set down your honourable
2f honour may be shrouded in a hearse,
Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life,
More direful bap betide that hated wretch,
May fright the hopeful mother at the view;
I am made by my young lord
Come, now, toward Chertsey with your
Glo. Stay you that bear the corse, and set it
Anne. What black magician conjures up this
To stop devoted charitable deeds?
Glo. Villains, set down the corse; or, by
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 f
Advance thy halbert higher than my breast,
[The bearers set down the coffin. Anne. What, do you tremble? are you all afraid?
Alas, I blame you not for you are mortal,
Glo. Sweet saint, for charity be not so curst.
For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,
If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,
Or, earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick;
Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered !
renders good for bad, blessings for
Anne. Villain, thou know'st no law of God
No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity.
Anne. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!
Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so
Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,
Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man,
Some patient leisure to excuse myself.
It is a tradition (derived probably from the ancient Swedes) that the inurdered body bleeds on the touch of the murderer.
Anne. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou | To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my huscanst 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,
Anne. Why then, they are not dead:
But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.
Glo. I did not kill your husband.
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 sland'rous
That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.
Anne. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind,
That never dreamt on aught but butcheries:
Glo. I grant ye.
Anne. Dost grant me, hedge hog? then God grant me too,
Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deed! Oh! he was gentle, mild, and virtuous.
Glo. The fitter for the King of heaven that bath him.
Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt
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 bedchamber.
Glo. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,
Did it to help thee to a better husband.
Glo. He lives that loves you better than he could.
Anne. Name him.
Anne. Why, that was he.
Glo. The self-same name, but one of better
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
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,
Not, when my father York and Edward wept,
Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,
That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks, Like trees bedash'd with rain; in that sad time,
My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;
Anne. Il rest betide the chamber where thou And what these sorrows could not thence ex
Glo. So will it, madam, till I lie with you.
Glo. I know so.-But, gentle lady Anne,
Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most accurs'd 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 bo
hale, Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
I never su'd to friend nor enemy;
My tongue could never learn sweet soothing word
But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee, My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak.
[She looks scornfully at him. Teach not thy lip such scora; 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; Which if thou please to hide in this true breast,
And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,
[He lays his breast open; she offers at it
Nay, do not pause; for I did kill king Henry;
[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 | On me that halt and am misshapen thus ? it.
Anne. I have already.
Glo. That was in thy rage:
Speak it again, and, even with the word,
My dukedom to a beggarly denier,⚫
I do mistake my person all this while :
This hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy I'll be at charges for a looking-glass;
Shall for thy love, kill a far truer love :
To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary.
Anne. Well, well, put up your sword.
[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
Glo. That it may please you leave these sad designs
To him that hath more cause to be a mourner,
Anne. With all my heart; and much it joys me too,
To see you are become so penitent.-
Anne. 'Tis more than you deserve :
[Exeunt Lady ANNE, TRESSEL, and
Glo. Take up the corse, Sirs.
[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 father
And entertain a score or two of tailors,
That I may see my shadow as I pass.
SCENE III.-The same.-A Room in the Palace.
Enter Queen ELIZABETH, Lord RIVERS, and Lord GREY.
Riv. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt his majesty
Will soon recover his accustom'd health.
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?
Grey. No other harm, but loss of such a lord. Q. Eliz. The loss of such a lord includes all
Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with
To be your comforter when he is gone.
But so it must be, if the king miscarry.
Enter BUCKINGHAM and STANLEY. Grey. Here come the lords of Buckingham and Stanley.
Buck. Good time of day unto your royal grace!
Stan. God make your majesty joyful as you have been!
Q. Eliz. The countess Richmond, good my lord of Stanley,
To your good prayer will scarcely say―amen.
From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice.
Q. Eliz. Saw you the king to-day, my lor! of Stanley?
Stan. But now, the duke of Buckingham, and I,
Are come from visiting his majesty.
Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment,
Buck. Madam, good hope: his grace speaks cheerfully.
Q. Eliz. God grant him health! Did you confer with him?
Buck. Ay, madam : he desires to make atone
That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet Between the duke of Gloster and your bro.
And made her widow to a woeful bed?
Ou me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety?
And between them and my lord chamberlain; And sent to warn them to his presence.