I lay it naked to thy deadly stroke, And humbly beg the death upon my knee. [Lays his breast open. Nay, do not pause; 'twas I that kill'd your husband;

[She offers at it with his sword. But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. Nay, now despatch; 'twas I that kill'd 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 it.
ANNE. I have already.

GLO.
Tush,* 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 shalt thou be accessory.
ANNE. I would I knew thy heart.
GLO. 'Tis figur'd in my tongue.
ANNE. I fear me both are false.
GLO. Then never man was true.
ANNE. 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.b

[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 suppliant § may
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.
ANNE. What is it?

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,

To see you are become so penitent.-
Tressel and Berkley, go along with me.

GLO. Bid me farewell.
ANNE.

'Tis more than you But since you teach me how to flatter you, Imagine I have said farewell already.

deserve:

[Exeunt LADY ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKLEY. GLO. Sirs, take up the corse."

GEN.
Towards Chertsey, noble lord?
GLO. No, to White-friars; there attend my
coming.

[Exeunt the rest with the corpse.
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;
Having God, her conscience, and these bars
against me,

And I no thing to back my suit withal,
But the plain devil and dissembling looks,
And yet to win her,-all the world to nothing! IIa!
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 debase† her eyes on me,
That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince,
And made her widow to a woeful bed?
On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety?
On me, that halt, and am unshapen § thus?
My dukedom to a beggarly denier,

I do mistake my person all this while:

Myself to be a marvellous proper man.
I'll be at charges for a looking glass;
And entertain some 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 a little cost.

Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, And cheer his with quick and grace words.* merry 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 harm.

GREY. The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son,

To be your comforter when he is gone.

Q. ELIZ. Ah, he is young; and his minority Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloster, A man that loves not me, nor none of you.

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. GREY. Here come the lords § of Buckingham and Stanley."

a Stanley.] He is styled Derby in the old copies; but he was not created Earl of Derby until after Henry VII. came to the throne.

b Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,-] "An importation of artificial manners seems to have afforded our ancient poets a never failing topick of invective. So, in A Tragical Discourse of the Haplesse Man's Life, by Churchyard, 1593;— We make a legge, and kisse the hand withall, (A French device, nay sure a Spanish tricke)

The envious slanders of her false accusers;
Or, if she be accus'd on true report,
Bear with her weakness, which, I think, proceeds
From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice.
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?

Buck. Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully.

Q. ELIZ. God grant him health! did you confer with him?

BUCK. Madam, we did :* he desires to make atonement

Betwixt the duke of Gloster and your brothers, And betwixt them and my lord chamberlain; And sent to warn them to his royal presence.

Q. ELIZ. Would all were well!-but that will never be ;

I fear our happiness is at the height.

Who are they that complain unto the king,
That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not?
By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly,
That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours.
Because I cannot flatter, and speak § fair,
Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog,
Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,
I must be held a rancorous enemy.
Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm,
But thus his simple truth must be abus'd
By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

GREY. To whom¶ in all this presence speaks

matter:

The king, of his own royal disposition,
And not provok'd by any suitor else;
Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,
Which in your outward action shows itself,
Against my children, brothers, and myself,
Makes him to send, that thereby he may gather
The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it."

GLO. I cannot tell; "the world is grown so bad,
That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch:
Since every Jack became a gentleman,
There's many a gentle person made a Jack.

Q. ELIZ. Come, come, we know your meaning, brother Gloster;

Our brother is imprison'd by your means, Myself disgrac'd, and the nobility

have

Held in contempt; whilst many fair § promotions Are daily given to ennoble those

That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble.

Q. ELIZ. By Him that rais'd me to this careful
height

From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,
I never did incense his majesty
Against the duke of Clarence, but have been
An earnest advocate to plead for him.
My lord, you do me shameful injury,
Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects.

GLO. You may deny that you were not the cause ||
Of my lord Hastings' late imprisonment.
RIV. She may, my lord; for-

GLO. She may, lord Rivers!-why, who knows
not so?

She may do more, sir, than denying that:
She may help you to many fair preferments;
And then deny her aiding hand therein,
And lay those honours on your high deserts.¶T
What may she not? She may,-ay, marry, may
she,-

RIV. What, marry, may she?

GLO. What, marry, may she? marry with a king, A bachelor,** a handsome stripling too: I wis your grandam had a worser match.

[borne Q. ELIZ. My lord of Gloster, I have too long Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs;

Q. MAR. [Aside.] And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee! +

Thy honour, state, and seat, is due to me. GLO. What! threat you me with telling of the king?

Tell him and spare not; look, what have I said I will avouch‡ in presence of the king:

[I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower.] "Tis time to speak,-my pains are quite forgot. Q. MAR. [Aside.] Out, devil! I§ remember them too well:

Thou slew'st || my husband Henry in the Tower, And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury.

GLO. Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband king,

I was a pack-horse in his great affairs;
A weeder-out of his proud adversaries,
A liberal rewarder of his friends;
To royalize his blood, I spilt ¶ mine own.
Q. MAR. [Aside.] Yea, and much better blood
than his or thine.

GLO. In all which time, you and your husband
Grey

Were factious for the house of Lancaster;-
And, Rivers, so were you.-Was not your husband
In Margaret's battle at Saint Albans slain?
Let me put in your minds, if you forget,
What you have been ere this, and what you are;
Withal, what I have been, and what I am.
Q. MAR. [Aside.] A murd'rous villain, and so
still thou art.
[Warwick,
GLO. Poor Clarence did forsake his father
Ay, and forswore himself,-which Jesu pardon !—
Q. MAR. [Aside.] Which God revenge!
GLO. To fight on Edward's party for the crown;
And, for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up:
I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward's,
Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine;

I am too childish-foolish for this world.

Q. MAR. [Aside.] Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave the world,

Thou cacodæmon! there thy kingdom is.

DORS. No man but prophesied revenge for it. BUCK. Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. [I came,

RIV. My lord of Gloster, in those busy days,
Which here you urge to prove us enemies,
We follow'd then our lord, our lawful * king;
So should we you, if you should be our king.
GLO. If I should be?-I had rather be a
pedlar:

Far be it from my heart, the thought of it!†
Q. ELIZ. As little joy, my lord, as you suppose
You should enjoy, were you this country's king,-
As little joy may you suppose in me,
That I enjoy, being the queen thereof.

Q. MAR. [Aside.] As little joy enjoys the
queen thereof;

For I am she, and altogether joyless.
I can no longer hold me patient.- [Advancing.
Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out
In sharing that which you have pill'd" from me!
Which of you trembles not that looks on me?
If not, that I being § queen, you bow like subjects;
Yet that, by you depos'd, you quake like rebels?-
O, gentle villain, do not turn away!

GLO. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in [marr'd;

my sight?

Q. MAR. But repetition of what thou hast That will I make, before I let thee go. [GLO. Wert thou not banished," on pain of death?

Q. MAR. I was; but I do find more pain in banishment,

Than death can yield me here by my abode.]
A husband and a son thou ow'st to me,-
And thou, a kingdom;-all of you, allegiance:
This sorrow that I have, by right is yours;
And all the pleasures you usurp are mine.

GLO. The curse my noble father laid on thee,When thou didst crown his warlike brows with

paper,

And with thy scorn drew'st rivers from his eyes; And then, to dry them, gav'st the duke a clout Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland ;His curses, then from bitterness of soul

Denounc'd against thee, are all fallen upon thee; And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed.

Q. ELIZ. So just is God to right the innocent. HAST. O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe,

And the most merciless that e'er was heard of! RIV. Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported.

Q. MAR. What! were you snarling all before
Ready to catch each other by the throat,
And turn you all your hatred now on me?
Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven.
That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death,
Their kingdom's loss, my woeful banishment,
Could* all but answer for that peevish brat?
Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven?-
Why, then give way, dull clouds, to my quick
curses!d

If not by war, by surfeit die your king,
As ours by murder, to make him a king!
Edward thy son, which ‡ now is prince of Wales,
For Edward my § son, which was prince of Wales,
Die in his youth by like untimely violence!
Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen,
Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self!
Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's loss;
And see another, as I see thee now,
Deck'd in thy glory, as thou'rt stall'd in mine!
Long die thy happy days before thy death;
And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief,
Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen!—
Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by,—
And so wast thou, lord Hastings,—when my son
Was stabb'd with bloody daggers; God, I pray him,
That none of you may live his natural age,
But by some unlook'd accident cut off!

GLO. Have done thy charm, thou hateful
wither'd hag!

Q. MAR. And leave out thee? stay, dog, for
thou shalt hear me.

If heaven have any grievous plague in store,
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,
O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe,
And then hurl down their indignation
On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace!
The worm of conscience still be-gnaw thy soul!
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st,
And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
Unless it be while some tormenting dream
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils!
Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog!
Thou that wast scal'd in thy nativity
The slave of nature and the son of hell!