Imatges de pÓgina

My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;

And what these sorrows could not thence exhale,

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 scorn; 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,

I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,

And humbly beg the death upon my knee.

[He lays his Breast open; she offers at it with 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 Ed


[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.


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 accessary.

4 But 'twas thy beauty-] Shakspeare countenances the observation, that no woman can ever be offended with the mention of her beauty. JOHNSON.

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I hope, live so.


Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

Anne. To take, is not to give. [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

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: 5

Where after I have solemnly interr'd,

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At Chertsey monast'ry, 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, To see you are become so penitent.

Tressel, and Berkley, go along with me.

+ "Then never man was true."— MALONE.

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Crosby-place: ] A house near Bishopsgate-street, belonging to the duke of Gloster, now Crosby-square, where part of the house is yet remaining.

Glo. Bid me farewell.


'Tis more than you deserve:

But, since you teach me how to flatter you,

Imagine I have said farewell already.

[Exeunt Lady ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKLEY.

Glo. Take up the corse, sirs.†


Towards Chertsey, noble lord?

[Exeunt the rest, with the Corse.

Glo. No, to White-Friars; there attend my coming.

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, "

+ "Sirs, take up the corse." Malone.

-"all the world to nothing, ah !"— Malone.

6 — a beggarly denier,] A denier is the twelfth part of a French and appears to have been the usual request of a beggar.


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,
shadow as I pass.

That I

may see my


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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.

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? Grey. No other harm, but loss of such a lord.

Q. Eliz. The loss of such a lord includes all harms. Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly


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.

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

To your good prayer will scarcely say - amen.
Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife,
And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd,
I hate not you for her proud arrogance.

Stan. I do beseech you, either not believe
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


Buck. Ay, madam : he desires to make atonement
Between the duke of Gloster and your brothers,
And between 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.


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

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