Glos. Your bed-chamber. Anne. Il rest betide the chamber where thou liest ! Glos. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. Anne. I hope so. Glos. 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 Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, As blameful as the executioner? Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most accursed effect. Glos. 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, These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. Glos. These eyes could not endure that 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. Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life! Glos. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both. Anne. I would I were, to be revenged on thee. To be revenged on him that loveth thee. Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth. Glos. He lives, that loves you better than he could. Anne. Name him. Glos. Anne. Plantagenet. Why, that was he. Glos. The self-same name, but one of better nature. Anne. Where is he? Glos. Here. [she spits at him.] Why dost thou spit at me? Anne. Would it were mortal poison for thy sake! Out of my sight! thou dost infect mine eyes. mine. Anne. Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead! Glos. 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 aspects with store of childish drops. These eyes, which never shed remorseful1 tear,— Told the sad story of my father's death; 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 soothing word; But now thy beauty is proposed my fee, speak. My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to Lo! here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; 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. 1 Pitying. Nay, do not pause, for I did kill king Henry: Nay, now despatch: 'twas I that stabb'd young Ed ward; [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. Glos. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. Anne. I have already. Glos. 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. Anne. I would, I knew thy heart. Anne. To take is not to give. [she puts on the ring. Glos. 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: But beg one favor at thy gracious hand, Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. Glos. That it may please you leave these sad de signs 1 To him that hath more cause to be a mourner. 2 For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you, 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. Glos. Bid me farewell. Anne. '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. Glos. Sirs, take up the corse. Gen. Towards Chertsey, noble lord? A house in Bishopsgate-street belonging to the duke of Gloster. 2 Expeditious. |