Glo. Plantagenet.

Anne. Why, that was he.

Glo. The felf-fame name, but one of better nature. Anne. Where is he?

Glo. Here why doft thou fpit at me?

[She fpits at him. 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 dost infect mine eyes.

Glo. Thine eyes, fweet Lady, have infected mine.
Anne. Would they were bafilisks to strike thee dead !
Glo. I would they were, that I might die at once:
For now they kill me with a living death.
Thofe eyes of thine from mine have drawn falt tears;
Sham'd their afpects with ftore of childish drops:
Thefe eyes, which never fhed remorfeful 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 standers-by had wet their cheeks,
Like trees be-dash'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 fued to friend, nor enemy;

My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing words;
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 breast,
And let the foul forth that adoreth thee,

I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,

And

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' young Edward; But 'twas thy heav'nly face that fet me on.

[She falls the word. 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 myself, and I will do it.
Anne. I have already.

Glo. That was in thy rage:

Speak it again, and even with thy 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 accessary.
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 fword.
Glo. Say then, my peace is made.
Anne. That fhalt thou know hereafter.
Glo. But fhall I live in hope?
Anne. All men, I hope, live fo.

Glo. Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

Look, how my ring encompaffeth thy finger,

Ev'n fo thy breaft incloseth my poor heart:

Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
And if thy poor devoted fuppliant 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 fad designs
To him, that hath more cause to be a Mourner;
And prefently repair to Crosby-place:
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 see you are become fo penitent.

Traffel and Barkley, 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.

Glo. Sirs, take up the coarse.

[Exe. two with Anne,

Gent. Towards Chertsey, noble Lord?

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

[Exeunt with the coarfe

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 extreamest hate,
With curfes in her mouth, tears in her eyes,

The bleeding witness 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 the forgot already that brave Prince,

Edward, her Lord, whom I, fome three months fince, Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?

A fweeter and a lovelier gentleman,

Fram'd in the prodigality of nature,

Young, wife, and valiant, and no doubt, right royal, The fpacious world cannot again afford:

And will the yet debafe her eyes on me,

That cropt the golden prime of this sweet Prince,
And made her widow to a woful bed?

On me, whofe All not equals Edward's Moiety?
On me, that halt, and am mif-shapen thus ?
My Dukedom to a beggarly Denier,

I do mistake my perfon all this while:
Upon my life, he finds, although I cannot,
Myfelf to be a marv'lous proper man.
I'll be at charges for a looking glafs,
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 coft.
But firft I'll turn yon fellow in his grave,
And then return lamenting to my love.
Shine out, fair fun, till I have bought a glafs,
may fee my fhadow as I pass.

That I

SCENE changes to the Palace.

Enter the Queen, Lord Rivers, and Lord Gray.

[Exit,

Riv. LTAVE patience, Madam, there's no doubt, his Majelty

Will foon recover his accuftom'd health.

Gray. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worfe:
Therefore, for God's fake, entertain good comfort,
And cheer his Grace with quick and merry eyes.
Queen. If he were dead what would betide of me?
Gray. No other harm, but lofs of fuch a Lord.
Queen. The lofs of fuch a Lord includes all harms.
Gray. The heav'ns have bleft you with a goodly fon,
To be your comforter when he is gone.

Queen. Ah! he is young, and his minority
Is put into the trust of Richard Glofter,
A man that loves not me, nor none of you.
Riv. It is concluded, he shall be protector?
Queen. It is determin'd, not concluded yet:
But fo it must be, if the King mifcarry.

Enter Buckingham and Stanley.

Gray. Here come the Lords of Buckingham and Stanley. (2) Buck.

(2) Here come the Lords of Buckingham and Derby.] This is a Blunder of Inadvertence, which has run thro' the whole Chain of Impressions. It could not well be original in Shakespeare,

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Buck. Good time of day unto your royal Grace!

Stanley. God make your Majefty joyful as you have been!

Queen. The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of
Stanley,

To your good pray'r will fcarcely fay, Amen:
Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife,
And loves not me, be you, good Lord, affur'd,
I hate not you for her proud arrogance.

Stanley. I do befeech you, either not believe
The envious flanders of her falfe accufers:
Or, if the be accus'd on true report,

Bear with her weakness; which I think proceeds
From wayward fickness, and no grounded malice.
Queen. Saw you the King to day, my Lord of Stanley?
Stanley. But now, the Duke of Buckingham and I
Are come from vifiting his Majefty.

Queen. What likelihood of his amendment, Lords? Buck. Madam, good hope; his Grace fpeaks chearfully.

Queen. God grant him health! did you confer with

him?

Buck. Madam, we did; he feeks to make atonement Between the Duke of Glofter and your brothers, And between them and my lord chamberlain; And fent to warn them to his royal prefence.

Queen. 'Would all were well-but that will never beI fear, our happiness is at the height.

Enter Gloucester.

Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it.

who was most minutely intimat with his Hiftory and the Intermarriages of the Nobility. The Perfon, here called Derby, was Thomas Lord Stanley, Lord Steward of King Edward the IVth's Household. But this Thomas Lord Stanley was not created Earl of Derby till after the Acceffion of Henry VII; and, accordingly, afterwards in the Fourth and Fifth As of this Play, before the Battle of Bofworth-field, he is every where call'd Lord Stanley. This fufficiently juftifies the Change I have made in his Title.

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