Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

A trouble

1s;

h! ath!

- dead,

Glo.

Anne. Vouchfafe, diffus'd infectio For these known evils, but to give n By circumstance, to curfe thy curfed Glo. Fairer than tongue can name Some patient leisure to excuse myself Anne. Fouler than heart can th

make

No excuse current, but to hang thys
Gio. By fuch despair, I should aco
Anne. And, by despairing, shalt t
For doing worthy vengeance on thy
That didft unworthy flaughter upon
Glo. Say, that I flew them not?

Anne.

Why the
But dead they are, and, devilish slav

Glo. I did not kill your husband.
Anne.

V

Glo. Nay, he is dead; and slain by
Anne. In thy foul's throat thou
faw

Thy murderous faulchion smoking i
The which thou once didft bend aga
But that thy brothers beat afide the

tter for the King of heaven that hath him. s in heaven, where thou shalt never come. im thank me, that holp to fend him thither; ter for that place, than earth.

thou unfit for any place, but hell.

one place elfe, if you will hear me name it. e dungeon.

Your bedchamber.

eft betide the chamber where thou lieft!
lit, madam, 'till I lie with you.
pe fo.

I know fo.-But, gentle lady Anne,keen encounter of our wits,

ewhat into a flower method :ufer of the timeless deaths

tagenets, Henry, and Edward,

as the executioner?

u waft the cause, and most accurs'd effect.
beauty was the cause of that effect;
which did haunt me in my fleep,
e the death of all the world,
ve one hour in your sweet bofom.
thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
hould rend that beauty from my cheeks.

Glo.

Glo. Thefe eyes could not endure that beauty's wreck ; You should not blemish it, if I ftood by:

As all the world is cheered by the fun,
So I by that; it is my day, my life.

Anne. Black night o'er hade thy day, and death thy life!
Glo. Curfe not thyfelf, fair creature; thou art both.
Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee.
Glo. It is a quarrel most unnatural,

To be reveng'd on him that loveth thee.

Anne. It is a quarrel just and reasonable,

To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband.
Glo. 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.
Glo. He lives, that loves you better than he could.
Anne. Name him.

Glo.

Anne.

Plantagenet.

Why, that was he.

Glo. The felf-fame name, but one of better nature.

Anne. Where is he?

Glo.

Here: [She fpits at him.] Why doft

thou fpit at me?

Anne. 'Would it were mortal poison, for thy fake!
Glo. Never came poifon from so sweet a place.
Anne. Never hung poison on a fouler toad.
Out of my fight! thou dost infect mine eyes.
Glo. Thine eyes, fweet lady, have infected mine.
Anne. 'Would they were bafilifks, to ftrike thee dead!
Glo. I would they were, that I might die at once;
For now they kill me with a living death.

Thofe of thine from mine have drawn falt tears,
eyes
Sham'd their afpects with store of childish drops:
Thefe eyes, which never fhed remorseful tear,—
Not, when my father York and Edward wept,

Το

To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made,
When black-fac'd Clifford fhook his sword at him :
Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,

Told the fad ftory of my father's death;

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 fad time,
My manly eyes did fcorn an humble tear;

And what these forrows could not thence exhale,

Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
I never fu'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 fues, and prompts my tongue to speak.
[She looks fcornfully at him.
Teach not thy lip fuch fcorn; for it was made
For kiffing, lady, not for fuch contempt.
If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,
Lo! here I lend thee this fharp-pointed sword;
Which if thou pleafe to hide in this true breast,
And let the foul forth that adoreth thee,

I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,

And humbly beg the death upon my knee.

[He lays his breaft open; she offers at it with his fword.

Nay, do not paufe; for I did kill king Henry ;

But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me.

Nay, now defpatch: 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward ;~

[She again offers at his breaft.

But 'twas thy heavenly face that fet me on.

[She lets fall the faword.

Take up the fword again, or take up me.

Anne. Arife, diffembler; though I wish thy death,

I will not be thy executioner.

Gle. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.

Anne.

Anne. I have already.

Glo.

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 fhalt thou be acceffary.

Anne. I would, I knew thy heart.

Glo.

'Tis figur'd in

[blocks in formation]

Glo.

All men,

Vouchfafe 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 fo thy breaft encloseth my poor heart;

Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.

And if thy poor devoted fervant 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 fad designs
To him that hath more caufe to be a mourner,
And presently repair to Crosby-place :
Where-after I have folemnly interr'd,
At Chertsey monast'ry, this noble king,
And wet his grave with my repentant tears,—

I will

« AnteriorContinuar »