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Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. That trudge betwixt the king and misurons Grim visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled
Shore. front :
Heard you not, what an humble suppliant And now,-instead of mounting barbed + steeds, Lord Hastings was to her for his delivery $ To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
Glo. Humbly complaining to her deity He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber,
Got my lord chamberlain his liberty.
I'll tell you what I think : it is our way,
Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewoTo strut before a wanton ambling nymph ;
meu, 1, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Are mighty gossips in this monarcby. Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Brak. I beseech your graces boll to pardon Deformi'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time
me; Into this breathing world, scarce hall made up, His majesty hath straitly given in obarge, And that so lamely and unfashionable,
That no man shall bave private conference, That dogs bark at ine, as I halt by them ; of what degree soever, with his brother. Why I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Glo. Even so 1 an please your worship, Bia. Have uo delight to pass away the time ;
kenbury, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun,
You may partake of any thing we say : And descant on mine own deformity :
We speak no treason, man ;-We say, the king . And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lover, Is wise, and virtuous; and his noble queen To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
Well struck in years ; fair, and not jealous : I am deterinined to prove a villain,
We say, that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot, And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
A cherry lip, Plots bave I laid, inductions I dangerous,
A bonuy eye, a passing pleasing tongue ; By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams, And the queen's kindred are made gentle folks : To set my brother Clarence, and the king, How say you, Sir! can you deny all this? In deadly hate the one against the olber:
Brak. With this, my lord, myself bave naught And, if king Edward be as true and just,
to do. As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
Glo. Naught to do with mistress Shore * I tell This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up;
thee, fellow, About a prophecy, which says-that G
He that doth naught with her, excepting one, of Edward's heirs the murderers shall be. Were best to do it secretly, alone. Dive, thoughts, down to my soul ! here Clarence Brak. What one, my lord ? comes.
Glo. Her husband, kuave :- Would'st thou be.
tray me? Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKEN. Brak. I beseech your grace to pardon me BURY.
and, withal, Brother, good day : What means this armed Forbear your conference with the noble duke. guard,
Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and That waits upon your grace ?
will obey. Clar. His majesty,
Glo. We are ihe queen's abjects, + and must Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed)
obey. This conduct to convey me to the Tower.
Brother, farewell : I will unto the king ; Glo. Upon what cause 1
And wbatsoever you will employ me in, Clar. Because my name is-George.
Were it, to call King Edward's widow-sister, Glo. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of I will perform it to enfranchise you. your's;
Mean time, this deep disgrace in brotherhood, He should, for that, commit your godfathers : Touches me deeper than you can imagine. Oh! belike bis majesty hath some intent,
Clar. I know it pleaseth neither of us well. That you shall be new christen'd in the Tower. Glo. Well, your imprisonment shall not be But what's the matter, Clarence ? may I know?
Jong ; Clar. Yea, Richard, when I know; for I pro- I will deliver you, or else lie for you: test,
Mean time, have patience As yet I do not : but, as I can learn,
Clar. I must perforce ; farewell. He hearkens after prophecies and dreams;
(Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and And from the cross-row plucks the letter G,
Guard. And says a wizard told him, that by G
Glo. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er His issue disiuherited should be ;
return, And, for my name of George begins with G, Simple, plain Clarence !- I do love thee so It follows in his thought, that I am be:
That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, These, as I learn, and such like toys as these, I if heaven will take the present at our hands. Have mov'd his highness to commit me now. But who comes here? tbe new deliver'd Hast. Glo. Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by
ings ? women :'Tis not the king, that sends you to the Tower ;
Enter HASTINGS. My lady Grey, his wife, Clarence, 'tis she, | Hast. Good time of day unto my gracious That tempers him to this extremity.
lord! Was it not she, and that good man of wor- Glo. As much anto my good lord chamber. ship,
lain ! Anthony Woodeville, her brother there,
Well are you welcome to this open air. That made him send lord Hastings to the How hath your iordship brook'd imprisonment ! Tower;
Hast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners From whence this present day he is deliver'd ?
must: We are not safe, Clarence, we are not safe. But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks, Clar. By heaven, I think, there is no manThat were the cause of my imprisonment. secure,
Glo. No doubt, no doubt ; and so shall Cla. But the queen's kindred, and night walking
rence too ; heralds
For they, that were your enemies, are his,
And bave prevail'd as much on bim as you. • Dances,
+ Armed. l'reparations for mischief.
• The Queen and Shore. Faucies.
1 Lowest of suljects.
Mean time deeper than eil neither hall not be
Whiast. He is before, and I wibrit HASTINGS
Hast. More pity that the eagle should be Taken from Paul's to be interred there : mewodo
And, still as yon are weary of the weight, Wbile kites and buzzards prey at liberty,
Rest you, wbiles llament king Heurs's Glo. What news abroad?
corse. Hast. No news so bad abroad, as this at The bearers take up the corpse, and adbome
vance. The king is sickly, weak, and melaucholy, And his physicians fear him mightily.
Enter GLOSTER. Glo. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad Glo. Stay you that bear the corse, and set it indeed.
down, Oh ! he bath kept an evil diet long,
Anne. What black magician conjures up this And over-inuch consuin'd his royal person ;
fiend, 'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.
To stop devoted charitable deeds ? What, is he in his bed ?
Glo. Villains, set down the corse ; or, by
(Exit HASTINGS. 1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the He cannot live, I hope ; and must Hot die,
coffin pass. Till George be pack'd with posthorse up to Glo. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou when I heaven,
command : I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence, Advance thy halbert higher than my breast, With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments ; Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, And, if I fail not in my deep intent,
And spurn upon thee, beggar, for iby boldClarence bath not another day to live :
ness. Which done, God take king Edward to his
(The bearers set down the cofin. niercy
Anne. What, do you tremble ? are you all And leave the world for ine to bustle in !
afraid? For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest Alas, I blame you not : for you are mortal, daughter:
And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil. What I though I kill'd her husband and her fa- Avaunt thou dreadful minister of bell ! ther,
Thou hadst but power over bis mortal body, The readiest way to make the wench amends, His soul thou canst not have; therefore, bre Is to become her husband, and ber father :
gone. The which will I; not all so much for love,
Glo. Sweet saint, for charity be not so curst. As for another secret close intent,
Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, belce, aud By marrying her, which I must reach unto.
trouble us not ; But yet I run before my horse to market:
For thou hast made tbe happy earth thy hell, Clarence still breathes : Edward still lives and Fill'd it with cursing cries, and deep exreigns ;
claims. When they are gone, then must I count my If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, gains.
(Ecit. Behold this pattern of thy butcheries :
O gentlemen, see, see ! dead Henry's wounds SCENE II. The same. Another Street. Open their congeald mouths, and bleed
afresh! Enter the corpse of King HENRY the Sixth, I Rush blush thau
tn, Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity; berne in an open colin, Gentlemen bearing For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood halberts to guard it ; and Lady ANNE as From cold and empty veins, wbere DO blood mnourner.
dwells ; Anne. Set down, set down your honourable Tby deed, inhuman and unnatural, load,
Provokes this deluge most unnatural2 honour may be shrouded in a hearse,
O God, which this blood madest, rcvenge his Whilst I a while obsequiously + lament
death! The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
o earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his Poor key-cold figure of a boly king !
death! Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster !
Either, beaven, with lightning strike the mur Tbou bloodless remnant of that royal blood I
derer dead, Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghos!,
Or, earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick ; . To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,
As thou dost swallow up this good king's Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son,
blood, Stabb'd by the self-saine hand that made these which his heli-govern'd arın hath butchered ! wounds!
Glo. Lady, you know no rules of charity, Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life. Which renders good for bad, blessings for I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes :
curses. Oh ! cursed be the hand that made these holes ! | Anne. Villain, thou know'st no law of God Cursed the heart, that bad the heart to do it!
nor man: Cursed the blood, that let this blood from No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity. hence!
Glo. But I know done, and therefore am no More direful bap betide that bated wretch.
beast. That makes us wretched by the death of thee, Anne. 0 wonderful when devils tell the Than I can wisb to adders, spiders, toads,
truth! Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives i
Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so If ever be have child, abortive be it,
angry.Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, Whose ugly and unnatural aspect
of these supposed evils, to give me leave, May fright the hopeful mother at the view; By circumstance, but to acquit myself. And that be beir to his unhappiness!
Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'a infection of a man, If ever he bave wife, let her be made
For these known evils, but to give me leave, More miserable by the death of hin,
By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self. Than I am made by my young lord and Glo. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let thee 1
me have Corce, bow, toward Chertsey with your holy Some patient leisure to excuse myself. load,
• It is a tradition (derived probably from the apeisnt • Confined,
Swedes) that the inurdered body bleeds on the touch o 1 Funereal.
Glo. Nay's hand.. throat thou
Anne. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou | To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my bus. canst make
band. No excuse current, but to hang thyself. | Glo. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husGlo. By such despair, I should accuse my
Did it to help thee to a better husband. Anne. And, by despairing, shalt thou stand Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the excus'd;
earth. For doing wortby vengeance on thyself,
Glo. He lives that loves you better than he That didst unworthy slaughter upon others.
could. Glo. Say, tbat I slew them not?
Anne. Name him. Anne. Why then, they are not dead :
Glo. Plantagenet. But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by Anne. Wby, that was he. thee.
Glo. The self-same name, but one of better Glo. I did not kill your husband.
nature. Anne. Wby, then he is alive.
Anne. Where is he?
thou spit at me Anne. In thy soul's throat thou liest ; queen Anne. 'Would it were mortal poison, for thy Margaret saw
sake ! Thy murderous faulchion smoking in bis blood ; ! Glo. Never came poison from so sweet a The which thou once didst bend against her
Anne. Never bung poison on a fouler toad. But that thy brothers beat aside the point. Out of my sight! thou dost infect mine Glo. I was provoked by her sland'rous
Glo. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoul
Anne. Would they were basilisks, to strike Anne. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody
thee dead! mind,
Glo. I would they were, that I might die at That never dreamt on aught but butcheries :
once ; Didst thou not kill tbis king?
For now they kill me with a living death. Glo. I grant ye.
Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt Anne. Dost grant me, hedge hog? then God
tears, grant me too,
Sham'd their aspects with store of childish Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deed !
drops; Oh I be was gentle, mild, and virtuous.
These eyes, which never shed remorseful Glo. The filter for the King of heaven that
tear, bath him.
Not, when my father York and Edward wept, Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt to hear the piteous moan that Rutland made, never come.
When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at Glo. Let him thank me, that holp to send him
him: thither ;
Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, For he was fitter for that place, tban earth. Told the sad story of my father's death; Anne. And thou untit for any place but And twenty times made pause, to sob and hell.
weep, Glo. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks, name it.
Like trees bedash'd with rain ; in that sad Anne. Some dungeon.
time, Glo. Your bedchamber.
My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou And what these sorrows could not thence ex. liest!
bale, Glo. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. Tby beauty bath, and made them blind with Anne. I hope so.
weeping. Glo. I know so.-But, gentle lady Anne,
I never su'd to friend nor enemy; To leave this keen encounter of our wits,
My tongue could never learn sweet soothing And fall somewhat into a slower method:
word, Is not the causer of the timeless deaths
But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee, of tbese Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue As blameful as the executioner?
to speak. Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most ac
(She looks scornfully at him. curs'd effect.
Teach not thy lip such scora ; for it was made Glo. Your beauty was the cause of that For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. effect;
If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, Your beauty, which did haunt me in my sleep, Lol here I lend thee this sbarp-pointed sword; To undertake the death of all the world,
Which if thou please to hide in this true So I might live one hour in your sweet bo
And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee, homi. I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, cide,
And humbly beg the death upon my knee. These nails should rend that beauty from my (He lays his breast open; she offers at it cheeks.
with his sword. Glo. These eyes would not endure that beau-Nay, do not pause : for I did kill king Henry ; ty's wreck,
But 'twas tby beauty that provoked me. You should not blemish it, if I stood by :
Nay, now despatch ; 'twas I tbat stabb'& young As all the world is cheered by the sun,
Edward ; So I by that; it is my day, my life.
[She again offers at his breast. Anne. Black night, o'ershad death thy life!
She lets fall the sword. Glo. Curse not thyself, fair creature ; thou art Take up the sword again, or take up me. both.
Anne. Arise, dissembler : though I wish thy Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on
I will not be thy exccutioner.
Glo. Then bld me kill myself, and I will do On me that halt and am missbapen thuo :
My dukedom to a beggarly denier, Anne. I have already.
I do mistake my person all this while : Glo. That was in thy rage :
Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, Speak it again, and, even with tbe word,
Myself to be a inarvellous proper man. This hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy I'll be at charges for a looking-glass ; love,
And entertain a score or two of tailors,
To study fashions to adorn my body :
I will maintain it with some little cost.
But, first, I'll turn yon fellow in his grave; Anne. I fear me, both are false.
And then return lamenting to my love.Glo. Then man was never true.
Shine out, fair sun, till I bave bought a Anne. Well, well, put up your sword.
glass, Glo. Say then, my peace is made.
That I may see my shadow as I pass. (Ezi!. Anne. That shall you know hereafter. Glo. But shall I live in hope ?
SCENE 111.-The same. A Room in the Anne. All men, I hope, live so.
Enter Queen ELIZABETH, Lord Rivers, and [She puts on the ring.
Lord GREY. Glo. Look, how this ring encompasseth thy Riv. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt finger,
his majesty Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; Will soon recover his accustom'd health. Wear both of tbem, for both of them are Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him thine.
worse : And if thy poor devoted servant may
Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good com. But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
fort. Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. And cheer his grace with quick and merry Anne. What is it?
words. Glo. That it may please you leave these sad O. Eliz. If he were dead, what would betide designs
of me? To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, Grey. No other harm, but loss of such a lord. And presently repair to Crosby-place ;
Q. Eliz. The loss of such a lord includes all Where-after I have solemnly interr'd,
harms. At Chertsey monast’ry, this noble king,
Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with And wet his grave with my repentant tears,
goodly son, I will with all expedient duty see you:
To be your comforter when he is gone. For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you,
Q. Éli:. Ah! he is young; and bis minority Grant me this boon.
Is put into the trust of Richard Gloster, Anne. With all my heart ; and much it joys A man that loves not me, nor none of you. me too,
Riv. Is it concluded, he shall be protector To see you are become so penitent.
Q. Eliz. It is determin'd, not conclade! Tressel and Berkeley go along with me.
yet; Glo. Bid me farewell.
But so it must be, if the king miscarry.
Enter BUCKINGHAM and STANLEY.
Grey. Here come the lords of Buckinghang (Exeunt Lady ANNE, TRESSEL, and
and Stanley. BERKELEY.
Buck. Good time of day unto your roya! Glo. Take up the corse, Sirs.
grace! Kent. Towards Chertsey, noble lord ?
Stan. God make your majesty joyful as you Glo. No, to White-Friars; there attend my
have been ! coming
Q. Elis. The countess Richmond, good my (Exeunt the rest, with the corse.
lord of Stanley, Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ?
To your good prayer will scarcely say-amen. Was ever woman in tbis burnour won ?
Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife, I'll have her, but I will not keep her long. And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd, What! I, that kill'd her husband, and his I hate not you for her proud arrogance. father
Stan. I do beseech you either not believe To take her in her heart's extremest hate ; The envivus slanders of her false aceusers ; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, Or if she be accus'd on true report, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ;
Bear with her weakness, which, I think, pro. With God, her conscience, and these bars
ceeds against me,
From wayward sickness, and no grounded maAnd I no friends to back my suit withal,
lice. But the plain devil and dissembling looks,
C. Eliz. Saw you the king to-day, my lor 1 And yet to win her,-all the world to nothing !
of Stanley ? Hal
Stan. But now, the duke of Buckingham, Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
and I, Edward, her lord, whom I some three months | Are come from visiting his majesty. since,
Q. Eli:. What likelihood of bis amendment, Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury ?
lords 7 A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,
Buck. Madam, good hope : bis grace speaks Fram'd in the prodigality of nature,
cheerfully. Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right Q. Eliz. God grant him health! Did you royal,
confer with him? The spacious world cannot again afford :
Buck. Ay, madam : he desires to make atoncAnd will sbe yet abase her eyes on me,
ment That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet Between the duke of Gloster and your bro. prince,
thers, And made her widow to a woeful bed!
And between them and my lord chamberlain : On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? And sent to warn + them to his presence.
• lu Bishopsgate-street.
• A small French coin,