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The readiest way to make the wench amends Is to become her husband and her father; The which will I-not all so much for love As for another secret close intent By marrying her which I must reach unto.
But yet I run before my horse to market.
Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns; When they are gone, then must I count my gains. Exit
SCENE 2.
London. Another street
Enter corpse of KING HENRY THE SIXTH, with halberds to guard it; LADY ANNE being the mourner, attended by TRESSEL and BERKELEY
ANNE. Set down, set down your honourable load- If honour may be shrouded in a hea.r.s.e; Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament Th' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!
Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!
Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost To hear the lamentations of poor Anne, Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son, Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these wounds.
Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.
O, cursed be the hand that made these holes!
Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it!
Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence!
More direful hap betide that hated wretch That makes us wretched by the death of thee Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads, Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!
If ever he have child, abortive be it, Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, Whose ugly and unnatural aspect May fright the hopeful mother at the view, And that be heir to his unhappiness!
If ever he have wife, let her be made More miserable by the death of him Than I am made by my young lord and thee!
Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, Taken from Paul's to be interred there; And still as you are weary of this weight Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse.
[The bearers take up the coffin]
Enter GLOUCESTER
GLOUCESTER. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.
ANNE. What black magician conjures up this fiend To stop devoted charitable deeds?
GLOUCESTER. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys!
FIRST GENTLEMAN. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pa.s.s.
GLOUCESTER. Unmannerd dog! Stand thou, when I command.
Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.
[The bearers set down the coffin]
ANNE. What, do you tremble? Are you all afraid?
Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortal, And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.
Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of h.e.l.l!
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 G.o.d's sake, hence and trouble us not; For thou hast made the happy earth thy h.e.l.l 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 deeds inhuman and unnatural Provokes this deluge most unnatural.
O G.o.d, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death!
O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his death!
Either, heav'n, with lightning strike the murd'rer dead; Or, earth, gape open wide and eat him quick, As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood, Which his h.e.l.l-govern'd arm hath butchered.
GLOUCESTER. Lady, you know no rules of charity, Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
ANNE. Villain, thou knowest nor law of G.o.d nor man: No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.
GLOUCESTER. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
ANNE. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!
GLOUCESTER. More wonderful when angels are so angry.
Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, Of these supposed crimes to give me leave By circ.u.mstance but to acquit myself.
ANNE. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, Of these known evils but to give me leave By circ.u.mstance to accuse thy cursed self.
GLOUCESTER. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have Some patient leisure to excuse myself.
ANNE. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make No excuse current but to hang thyself.
GLOUCESTER. By such despair I should accuse myself.
ANNE. And by despairing shalt thou stand excused For doing worthy vengeance on thyself That didst unworthy slaughter upon others.
GLOUCESTER. Say that I slew them not?
ANNE. Then say they were not slain.
But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.
GLOUCESTER. I did not kill your husband.
ANNE. Why, then he is alive.
GLOUCESTER. Nay, he is dead, and slain by Edward's hands.
ANNE. In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw Thy murd'rous falchion smoking in his blood; The which thou once didst bend against her breast, But that thy brothers beat aside the point.
GLOUCESTER. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.
ANNE. Thou wast provoked by thy b.l.o.o.d.y mind, That never dream'st on aught but butcheries.
Didst thou not kill this king?
GLOUCESTER. I grant ye.
ANNE. Dost grant me, hedgehog? Then, G.o.d grant me to Thou mayst be d.a.m.ned for that wicked deed!
O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous!
GLOUCESTER. The better for the King of Heaven, that hath him.
ANNE. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.
GLOUCESTER. Let him thank me that holp to send him thither, For he was fitter for that place than earth.
ANNE. And thou unfit for any place but h.e.l.l.
GLOUCESTER. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.
ANNE. Some dungeon.
GLOUCESTER. Your bed-chamber.
ANNE. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest!
GLOUCESTER. So will it, madam, till I lie with you.
ANNE. I hope so.
GLOUCESTER. I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, To leave this keen encounter of our wits, And fall something into a slower method- Is not the causer of the timeless deaths Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, As blameful as the executioner?
ANNE. Thou wast the cause and most accurs'd effect.
GLOUCESTER. Your beauty was the cause of that effect- Your beauty that did haunt me in my sleep To undertake the death of all the world So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom.
ANNE. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.
GLOUCESTER. These eyes could not endure that beauty's wreck; You should not blemish it if I stood by.
As all the world is cheered by the sun, So I by that; it is my day, my life.
ANNE. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life!
GLOUCESTER. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both.
ANNE. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee.
GLOUCESTER. 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.
GLOUCESTER. 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.
GLOUCESTER. He lives that loves thee better than he could.
ANNE. Name him.
GLOUCESTER. Plantagenet.
ANNE. Why, that was he.