HAST. More pity that the eagle should be mew'd, While kites and buzzards play at liberty.

GLOU. What news abroad?

HAST. No news so bad abroad as this at home;

135

The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy,

And his physicians fear him mightily.

GLOU. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed.

Oh, he hath kept an evil diet long,

And overmuch consumed his royal person:

140

'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.

What, is he in his bed?

HAST. He is.

GLOU. Go you before, and I will follow you. He cannot live, I hope; and must not die

[Exit HASTINGS.

145

Till George be packed with post-horse up to heaven.
I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
With lies well steeled with weighty arguments;
And, if I fail not in my deep intent,

Clarence hath not another day to live:

150

Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,
And leave the world for me to bustle in!

For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.
What though I kill'd her husband and her father?
The readiest way to make the wench amends
Is to become her husband and her father:
The which will I; not all so much for love,
As for another secret close intent,

155

By marrying her which I must reach unto.
But yet I run before my horse to market:

160

Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns:
When they are gone, then must I count my gains.

[Exit.

SCENE II. The same. Another street.

Enter the corpse of KING HENRY the Sixth, guarded by Gentlemen with halberds; LADY ANNE as mourner.

ANNE. Set down, set down your honourable load—

If honour my be shrouded in a hearse—

Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament
The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!
Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!
Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost,

5

Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son,

10

To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,

Stabb'd by the selfsame hand that made these wounds!

Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life,

I

pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.

Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes!
Cursed be the heart that had the heart to do it!
Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence !
More direful hap betide that hated wretch,
That makes us wretched by the death of thee,
Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,
Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!
If ever he have child, abortive be it,
Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,
Whose ugly and unnatural aspect

May fright the hopeful mother at the view;
And that be heir to his unhappiness!
If ever he have wife, let her be made

As miserable by the death of him,

15

20

25

As I am made by my poor lord and thee!

Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load,

Taken from Paul's to be interred there;

30

And still, as you are weary of the weight,

Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse.

Enter GLOUCESTER.

GLOU. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.
ANNE. What black magician conjures up this fiend,

To stop devoted charitable deeds?

35

GLOU. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul,

I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.

GENT. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.

GLOU. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou when I command:

Advance thy halberd higher than my breast,

40

Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot,

And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.

ANNE. What, do you tremble? are you all afraid?

Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal,
And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.
Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!

45

Thou hadst but power over his mortal body,

His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone.
GLOU. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.

ANNE. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not;

50

For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,

Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims.
If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,
Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.

O gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds
Open their congealed mouths and bleed afresh.
Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity;
For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood

55

From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells;
Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural,

60

Provokes this deluge most unnatural.

O God, which this blood madest, revenge his death!

O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his death!
Either heaven with lightning strike the murderer dead,
Or earth, gape open wide and eat him quick,
As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood,
Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered!
GLOU. Lady, you know no rules of charity,
Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.

ANNE. Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor man:
No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.

GLOU. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
ANNE. Oh, wonderful, when devils tell the truth!
GLOU. More wonderful, when angels are so angry.
Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,
Of these supposed evils, to give me leave,
By circumstance, but to acquit myself.

65

70

75

ANNE. Vouchsafe, defused infection of a man,

For these known evils, but to give me leave,

By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self.

80

GLOU. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have

Some patient leisure to excuse myself.

ANNE. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make

No excuse current, but to hang thyself.

GLOU. By such despair, I should accuse myself.

85

ANNE. And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused

For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,

Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others.
GLOU. Say that I slew them not?
ANNE.
But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.
GLOU. I did not kill your husband.
ANNE.

Why, then they are not dead:

90

Why, then he is alive.

GLOU. Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand.

ANNE. In thy foul throat thou liest Queen Margaret saw

Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood;

The which thou once didst bend against her breast,
But that thy brothers beat aside the point.

GLOU. I was provoked by her slanderous tongue,
Which laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.
ANNE. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind,
Which never dreamt on aught but butcheries:
Didst thou not kill this king?

I grant ye.

95

100

GLOU.

ANNE. Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too
Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed!
Oh, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous!

GLOU. The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him.
ANNE. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.
GLOU. Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither;

105

For he was fitter for that place than earth.

ANNE. And thou unfit for any place but hell.

GLOU. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.
ANNE. Some dungeon.

110

ANNE. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest !
GLOU. So will it, madam, till I lie with you.

ANNE. I hope so.
GLOU.
I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne,
To leave this keen encounter of our wits,
And fall somewhat into a slower method,
Is not the causer of the timeless deaths

115

Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward,

As blameful as the executioner?

ANNE. Thou art the cause, and most accursed effect.

120

GLOU. 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 bosom.

ANNE. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,

125

These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.

GLOU. These eyes could never endure sweet beauty's wreck;

You should not blemish it, if I stood by:

As all the world is cheered by the sun,

So I by that; it is my day, my life.

130

ANNE. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life!

GLOU. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both.
ANNE. I would I were, to be revenged on thee.

GLOU. It is a quarrel most unnatural,

To be revenged on him that loveth you.
ANNE. It is a quarrel just and reasonable,
To be revenged on him that slew my husband.

135

GLOU. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,
Did it to help thee to a better husband.

ANNE. His better doth not breathe upon the earth.
GLOU. He lives that loves thee better than he could.
ANNE. Name him.

GLOU.

ANNE.

Plantagenet.

Why, that was he.

140

GLOU. The selfsame name, but one of better nature.

ANNE. Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake!
GLOU. 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.

GLOU. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.
ANNE. Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead!
GLOU. I would they were, that I might die at once;
For now they kill me with a living death.
Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears,
Shamed their aspect with store of childish drops :
These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear,
No, when my father York and Edward wept,
To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made

150

155

When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him;
Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,
Told the sad story of my father's death,

160

And twenty times made pause to sob and weep,
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;

165

And what these sorrows could not thence exhale,

Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
I never sued to friend nor enemy;

My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing words;
But, now thy beauty is proposed my fee,

170

My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak.
[She looks scornfully at him.

Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were 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 bosom,
And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,

I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,

175