Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops : And twenty times made pause, to sob, and weep, My tongue could never learn sweet soothing word; My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. [She looks scornfully at him. Teach not thy lip such scorn; for it was made 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 Nay, do not pause; for I did kill king Henry ;- Nay, now despatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward ;- [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. Glo. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. Glo. That was in thy rage: Speak it again, and, even with the word, This hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. Anne. I would, I knew thy heart. Glo. Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, Anne. What is it? Glo. That it may please you leave these sad designs To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, And presently repair to Crosby-place: Where-after I have solemnly interr'd, At Chertsey monast'ry this noble king, And wet his grave with my repentant tears,I will with all expedient duty see you: For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you, Grant me this boon. 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. Glo. Bid me farewel. Anne. 'Tis more than you deserve: But, since you teach me how to flatter you, *Imagine I have said farewel already. [Exeunt Lady Anne, Tressel, and Berkley. Glo. Take up the corse, sirs. Gen. Glo. No, to White-Fryars; there attend my coming. Towards Chertsey, noble lord? [Exeunt the rest, with the corse. 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 extremest hate; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; With God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit withal, But the plain devil, and dissembling looks, And yet to win her,—all the world to nothing! Hath she forgot already that brave prince, Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since, Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury? A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,— Fram'd in the prodigality of nature, Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal",The spacious world cannot again afford: And will she yet abase her eyes on me, That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince, On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? My dukedom to a beggarly denier, I do mistake my person all this while : I will maintain it with some little cost. SCENE III. The Same. A Room in the Palace. [Exit. Enter Queen ELIZABETH, Lord RIVERS, and Lord GREY. Riv. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt, his majesty Will soon recover his accustom'd health. Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse: Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. Q. Eli. If he were dead, what would betide of me? Grey. No other harm, but loss of such a lord. Q. Eliz. The loss of such a lord includes all harms. Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son, To be your comforter, when he is gone. Q. Eliz. Ah, he is young; and his minority |