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 accessary.

Anne. I would, I knew thy heart.

Glo.

'Tis figur'd in

Anne. To take, is not to give. [She puts on the ring. Glo. Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, Even fo thy breast encloseth my poor heart;

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

And if thy poor devoted servant 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 cause 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 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 fo penitent.

Treffel, and Berkley, go along with me.

Glo. Bid me farewell.

Anne.

'Tis more than you

deferve:

But, fince you teach me how to flatter you,
Imagine I have faid farewell already.

[Exeunt Lady ANNE, Treffel, and Berkley.

Glo. Take up the corfe, firs.

Gen.

Towards Chertsey, noble lord?

Glo. No, to White- Fryars; there attend my coming.

[Exeunt the reft, with the corfe.

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 extremeft hate ;

With curfes in her mouth, tears in her eyes,

The bleeding witness of her hatred by ;

With God, her confcience, and these bars against me,
And I no friends to back my fuit withal,

But the plain devil, and diffembling looks,

And yet to win her,-all the world to nothing!

Ha!

Hath the forgot already that brave prince,

Edward, her lord, whom I, fome three months fince,

Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,—

Fram'd in the prodigality of nature,

Young, valiant, wife, and, no doubt, right royal,

The fpacious world cannot again afford:

And

And will fhe yet abase her eyes on me,

That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince,
And made her widow to a woful bed?

On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety?

On me, that halt, and am mishapen thus ?
My dukedom to a beggarly denier,

I do mistake my person all this while :
Upon my life, the finds, although I cannot,
Myself to be a marvellous proper man.
I'll be at charges for a looking-glafs;
And entertain a score or two of tailors,
To study fashions to adorn my body:
Since I am crept in favour with myself,
I will maintain it with fome little cost.
But, firft, I'll turn yon' fellow in his grave;
And then return lamenting to my love.—
Shine out, fair fun, 'till I have bought a glass,
That I may fee my fhadow as I pafs.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

The fame. A Room in the Palace.

Enter Queen ELIZABETH, Lord RIVERS, and Lord GREY.

Riv. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt, his majesty

Will foon recover his accuftom'd health.

Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse : Therefore, for God's fake, entertain good comfort, And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. 2. Eliz. If he were dead, what would betide of me? Grey. No other harm, but lofs of fuch a lord.

2. Eliz. The lofs of fuch a lord includes all harms. : Grey.

3

Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son, To be your comforter, when he is gone.

2. Eliz. Ah, he is young; and his minority Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloster,

A man that loves not me, nor none of you.
Riv. Is it concluded, he shall be protector?
2. Eliz. It is determin'd, not concluded yet -
But fo it must be, if the king miscarry.

Enter BUCKINGHAM and STANLEY.

Grey. Here come the lords of Buckingham and Stanley. Buck. Good time of day unto your royal grace!

Stan. God make your majesty joyful as you have been! 2. Eliz. The countefs Richmond, good.my lord of Stanley,

To your good prayer will scarcely fay―amen.
Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife,
And loves not me, be you, good lord, affur'd,
I hate not you for her proud arrogance.
Stan. I do befeech you, either not believe
The envious flanders of her false accufers;
Or, if she be accus'd on true report,

Bear with her weakness, which, I think, proceeds
From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice.
1. 2. Eliz. Saw you the king to-day, my lord of Stanley?
Stan. But now, the duke of Buckingham, and I,
Are come from vifiting his majesty.

2. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment, lords? Buck. Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully. 2. Eliz. God grant him health! Did you confer with

him?

Buck. Ay, madam: he defires to make atonement Between the duke of Glofter and your brothers,

And

And between them and my lord chamberlain ;

And fent to warn them to his royal prefence.

2. Eliz. 'Would all were well!—But that will never be ;

I fear, our happiness is at the height.

Enter GLOSTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET.

Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it :Who are they, that complain unto the king,

That I, forfooth, am ftern, and love them not?
By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly,
That fill his ears with fuch diffentious rumours.
Because I cannot flatter, and fpeak fair,
Smile in men's faces, fmooth, deceive, and cog,
Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,
I must be held a rancorous enemy.

Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm,
But thus his fimple truth must be abus'd

By filken, fly, infinuating Jacks?

Grey. To whom in all this presence speaks your grace? Glo. To thee, that haft nor honesty, nor grace. When have I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong ?Or thee?-or thee?-or any of your faction? A plague upon you all! His royal grace,— Whom God preserve better than you would wish !— Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while,

But you must trouble him with lewd complaints.

2. Eliz. Brother of Glofter, you mistake the matter: The king, of his own royal disposition, And not provok'd by any fuitor elfe; Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred, That in your outward action shows itself, Against my children, brothers, and myself,

C

Makes