But 'twas thy Beauty that provoked me.
Nay, now dispatch: 'Twas I that stabb'd
But 'twas thy heav'nly Face that fet me on.
young Edward,
[She falls the Sword.
Take up the Sword again, or take up me.
Anne. Arife, Diffembler, though I wish thy Death,
I will not be thy Executioner.
Glo. Then bid me kill my felf, 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 acceffary.
Anne. I would I knew thy Heart.
Glo. 'Tis figur'd in my Tongue.
Anne. I fear me, both are falfe.
Glo. Then never Man was true.
Anne. Well, well, put up your Sword.
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. Vouchfafe to wear this Ring.
Look how my Ring encompaffeth thy Finger,
Even fo thy Breaft inclofeth 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 doft confirm this Happiness for ever.
Anne. What is it?
Glo. That it may please you leave these fad Designs
To him that hath moft caufe to be a Mourner,
And prefently repair to Crosby House:
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 Reasons, I beleech you,
Grant me this Boon.
Anne. With all my Heart. aud much it joys me too, To fee you are become fo penitent.
Treffel 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 have faid farewel already. [Exeunt two with Anne.
Gent. Towards Chertsey, Noble Lord?
Glo. Now 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 extreameft hate,
With Curfes in her Mouth, Tears in her Eyes,
The bleeding witnefs of my hatred by,
Having 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 herAll the World to nothing!
Hah!
Hath fhe forgot already that brave Prince,
Edward, her Lord, whom I, fome three Months fince,
Stab'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
A fweeter and a lovelier Gentleman,
Fram'd in the prodigality of Nature,
Young, Valiant, Wife, and, no doubt, right Royal,
The fpacious World cannot again afford:
And will the thus abafe her Eyes on me,
That cropt the Golden prime of this fweet Prince,
And made her Widow to a woful Bed?
On me, whofe All not equals Edward's Moiety?
On me, that halts, and am mifhapen thus?
My Dukedom to a beggarly Denier,
I do mistake my Perfon all this while:
Upon my Life the finds, although I cannot,
My felf 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 ftudy Fashions to adorn my Body:
Since I am crept in favour with my felf,
I will maintain it with fome little Coft.
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 Glafs,
That I may fce my Shadow as I país.
Enter the Queen, Lord Rivers, and Lord Gray.
Riv. Have patience, Madam, there is no doubt, his Majefty Will foon recover his accuftom'd Health.
Gray. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse,
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 on me?
Gray. No other harm, but lofs of fuch a Lord.
Queen. The lofs of fuch a Lord includes all harms.
Gray. The Heavens have bleft you with a goodly Son
To be your Comforter when he is gone.
Queen. Ah! he is young, and his Minority
Is put unto the truft of Richard Glofter,
A Man that loves not me, nor none of you.
Riv. Is it concluded, he fhall be Protector?
Queen. It is determin'd, not concluded yet:
But fo it must be, if the King miscarry.
Enter Buckingham and Derby.
Gray. Here comes the Lords of Buckingham and Derby.
Buck. Good time of Day unto your Royal Grace.
Derby. God make your Majefty joyful, as you have been.
Queen. The Countefs Richmond, good my Lord of Derby,
To your good Prayer will scarcely fay, Amen;
Yet Derby, notwithstanding fhe's your Wife,
And loves not me, be you, good Lord, affur'd,
I hate not you for her proud Arrogance.
Derby. I do befeech you, either not believe
The envious Slanders of her falfe Accufers :
Or if the be accus'd on true report,
Bear with her weakness; which I think proceeds.
From wayward Sickness, and no grounded Malice.
Queen. Saw you the King to Day, my Lord of Derby?
Derby. 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. Ay, Madam, he defires 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 be I fear our Happiness is at the height.
Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it,
Who is it that complains unto the King,
That I, forfooth, am ftern, and love them not?
By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly,
That fill his Ears with fuch diffentious Rumors.
Because I cannot flitter, and look fair,
Smile in Mens Faces, fmooth, deceive and cog,
Duck with French nods, and Apish Courtefic,
I must be held a rancorous Enemy.
Cannot a plain Man live and think no harm,
But thus his fimple Truth must be abus'd
With filken, fly, infinuating Jacks?
Gray. To whom in all this prefence fpeaks your Grace?
Glo. To thee, that haft not Honefty nor Grace:
When have I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong?
Or thee? or thee? or any of your Faction?
A Plague upon you all. His Royal Grace,
Whom God preferve, better than you would with,
Cannot be quiet fcarce a breathing while,
But you must trouble him with lewd Complaints.
Queen. Brother of Glo'fter, you mistake the Matter:
The King on his own Royal Difpofition,
And not provok'd by any Suitor elfe,
Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,
That in your outward Action fhews it felf
Against my Children, Brothers, and my Self,
Makes him to fend, that he may learn the ground.
Glo. I cannot tell the World is grown fo bad,
That Wrens make prey, where Eagles dare not perch.
Since every Jack became a Gentleman,
There's many a gentle Perfon made a Jack.
Queen. Come, come, we know your meaning, Brother
You envy my Advancement, and my Friends:
God grant we never may have need of you.
Glo. Mean time God grants that I have need of you. Our Brother is imprifon'd by your means,
My felf difgrac'd, and the Nobility
Held in Contempt, while great Promotions
Are daily given to enoble those,
That fcarce, fome two Days fince, were worth a Noble.
Queen. By him that rais'd me to this careful height,
From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,
I never did incenfe his Majefty
Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been
An earnest Advocate to plead for him.
My Lord, you do me fhameful Injury,
Falfely to draw me in thefe vile Sufpects.
Glo. You may deny, that you were not the mean
Of my Lord Haftings late Imprifonment.
Riv. She may, my Lord, for
Glo. She may, Lord Rivers, why who knows not fo?
She may do more, Sir, then denying that:
She may help you to many fair Preferments,
And then deny her aiding Hand therein,
And lay thofe Honours on your high defert.
What may the not? fhe may---ay marry may the-
Riv. What marry, may fhe ?
Glo. What marry may fhe? marry with a King,
A Batchelor, and a handfom Stripling too:
I wis your Grandam had a worfer match.
Queen. My Lord of Glo'fter, I have coo long born
Your blunt Upbraidings, and your bitter Scoffs:
By Heav'n I will acquaint his Majesty,
Of thofe grofs taunts, that oft I have endur'd.
I had rather be a Country Servant Maid
Than a great Queen with this Condition,
To be fo baited, fcorn'd, and ftormed at;
Small joy have I in being England's Queens
VOL. IV.
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