The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 430

GLOUCESTER. The self-same name, but one of better nature.

ANNE. Where is he?

GLOUCESTER. Here. [She spits at him] Why dost thou spit at me?

ANNE. Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake!

GLOUCESTER. Never came poison from so sweet a place.

ANNE. Never hung poison on a fouler toad.

Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.

GLOUCESTER. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.

ANNE. Would they were basilisks to strike thee dead!

GLOUCESTER. I would they were, that I might die at once; For now they kill me with a living death.

Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops- These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear, No, when my father York and Edward wept To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at him; Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, Told the sad story 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 sad time My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; And what these sorrows could not thence exhale Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.

I never sued to friend nor enemy; My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word; But, now thy beauty is propos'd my fee, 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 For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.

If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, Lo here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; Which if thou please to hide in this true breast And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, 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 sword]

Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry- But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me.

Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward- But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on.

[She falls 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.

GLOUCESTER. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it; ANNE. I have already.

GLOUCESTER. 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 shalt thou be accessary.

ANNE. I would I knew thy heart.

GLOUCESTER. 'Tis figur'd in my tongue.

ANNE. I fear me both are false.

GLOUCESTER. Then never was man true.

ANNE. well put up your sword.

GLOUCESTER. Say, then, my peace is made.

ANNE. That shalt thou know hereafter.

GLOUCESTER. But shall I live in hope?

ANNE. All men, I hope, live so.

GLOUCESTER. Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

ANNE. To take is not to give. [Puts on the ring]

GLOUCESTER. Look how my ring encompa.s.seth thy finger, Even so 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?

GLOUCESTER. That it may please you leave these sad designs To him that hath most cause to be a mourner, And presently repair to Crosby House; Where-after I have solemnly interr'd At Chertsey monast'ry this n.o.ble 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 Berkeley, go along with me.

GLOUCESTER. Bid me farewell.

ANNE. 'Tis more than you deserve; But since you teach me how to flatter you, Imagine I have said farewell already.

Exeunt two GENTLEMEN With LADY ANNE GLOUCESTER. Sirs, take up the corse.

GENTLEMEN. Towards Chertsey, n.o.ble lord?

GLOUCESTER. No, to White Friars; there attend my coming.

Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER 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 my hatred by; Having G.o.d, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit at all But the plain devil and dissembling looks, And yet to win her, all the world to nothing!

Ha!

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 s.p.a.cious world cannot again afford; And will she yet abase her eyes on me, That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince And made her widow to a woeful bed?

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

On me, that halts and am misshapen thus?

My dukedom to a beggarly denier, I do mistake my person all this while.

Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, Myself to be a marv'llous proper man.

I'll be at charges for a looking-gla.s.s, 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 some little cost.

But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave, And then return lamenting to my love.

Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a gla.s.s, That I may see my shadow as I pa.s.s. Exit

SCENE 3.

London. The palace

Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, LORD RIVERS, and LORD GREY

RIVERS. 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 G.o.d's sake, entertain good comfort, And cheer his Grace with quick and merry eyes.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. If he were dead, what would betide on me?

GREY. No other harm but loss of such a lord.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. 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.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, he is young; and his minority Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester, A man that loves not me, nor none of you.

RIVER. Is it concluded he shall be Protector?

QUEEN ELIZABETH. It is determin'd, not concluded yet; But so it must be, if the King miscarry.

Enter BUCKINGHAM and DERBY

GREY. Here come the Lords of Buckingham and Derby.

BUCKINGHAM. Good time of day unto your royal Grace!

DERBY. G.o.d make your Majesty joyful as you have been.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby, To your good prayer will scarcely say amen.

Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she's your wife And loves not me, be you, good lord, a.s.sur'd I hate not you for her proud arrogance.

DERBY. I do beseech you, either not believe The envious slanders of her false accusers; Or, if she be accus'd on true report, Bear with her weakness, which I think proceeds From wayward sickness and no grounded malice.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Saw you the King to-day, my Lord of Derby?

DERBY. But now the Duke of Buckingham and I Are come from visiting his Majesty.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. What likelihood of his amendment, Lords?

BUCKINGHAM. Madam, good hope; his Grace speaks cheerfully.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. G.o.d grant him health! Did you confer with him?

BUCKINGHAM. Ay, madam; he desires to make atonement Between the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers, And between them and my Lord Chamberlain; And sent to warn them to his royal presence.

QUEEN ELIZABETH. Would all were well! But that will never be.

I fear our happiness is at the height.

Enter GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET