LADY ANNE.

Anne. Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell! Thou hadst but power over his mortal body,

His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone.

Gloucester. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.

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

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 congeal'd mouths, and bleed afresh -
Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity;

For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood

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

Provokes this deluge most unnatural.—

O God, which this blood mad'st, 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!

KING RICHARD III.-Act I. Scene II.

ANNE BULLEN.

Lord Chamberlain. Good morrow, ladies. What wer't worth

to know

The secret of your conference?

Anne Bullen.

My good lord,

Not your demand; it values not your asking:

Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying.

Lord Chamberlain. It was a gentle business, and becoming The action of good women: there is hope

All will be well.

Anne Bullen. Now I pray God, amen!

Lord Chamberlain. You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings

Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,

Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's

Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty
Commends his good opinion to you, and
Does purpose honour to you no less flowing
Than marchioness of Pembroke; to which title.
A thousand pound a year, annual support,
Out of his grace he adds.

Anne Bullen.

I do not know,

What kind of my obedience I should tender;

More than my all is nothing: nor my prayers

Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes

More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers and wishes
Are all I can return. 'Beseech your lordship,

Vouchsafe to speak my thanks, and my obedience,

As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness;

Whose health, and royalty, I pray for.

Lord Chamberlain.

I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit,
The king hath of you.

Lady,