| Enter the corpse of KING HENRY THE SIXTH, borne in an open coffin, Gentlemen with halberds to guard it; LADY ANNE being the mourner. | |
LADY ANNE | Set down, set down your honourable load, | |
| If honour may be shrouded in a hearse, | |
| Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament | |
| The 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 slaughter'd son, | | 10 |
| Stabb'd by the selfsame hand that made these wounds! | |
| Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life, | |
| I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes. | |
| Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes! |
| Cursed be 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! | | 20 |
| 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 he made | |
| A miserable by the death of him | |
| As I am made by my poor lord and thee! |
| Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, |
| Taken from Paul's to be interred there; | | 30 |
| And still, as you are weary of the weight, | |
| Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse. | |
| [ The bearers take up the sorpse and advance. | |
| Enter GLOUCESTER. | |
GLOUCESTER | Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. | |
LADY 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. | |
Gentleman | My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. | |
GLOUCESTER | Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command: |
| Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, | | 40 |
| 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. | |
LADY 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 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. |
LADY ANNE | Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not; | | 50 |
| 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, | | 60 |
| Provokes this deluge most unnatural. | |
| O God, which this blood madest, 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! | |
GLOUCESTER | Lady, you know no rules of charity, |
| Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. | |
LADY ANNE | Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor man: | | 70 |
| No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. | |
GLOUCESTER | But I know none, and therefore am no beast. | |
LADY 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-evils, to give me leave, | |
| By circumstance, but to acquit myself. | |
LADY ANNE | Vouchsafe, defus'd infection of a man, |
| For these known evils, but to give me leave, | |
| By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self. | |
GLOUCESTER | Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have | |
| Some patient leisure to excuse myself. | |
LADY 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. | |
LADY ANNE | And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused; | |
| For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, | |
| Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others. |
GLOUCESTER | Say that I slew them not? | |
LADY ANNE | Why, then they are not dead: | | 90 |
| But dead they are, and devilish slave, by thee. | |
GLOUCESTER | I did not kill your husband. | |
LADY ANNE | Why, then he is alive. |
GLOUCESTER | Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. | |
LADY ANNE | In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw | |
| Thy murderous 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 slanderous tongue, | |
| which laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. | |
LADY ANNE | Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind. | | 100 |
| Which never dreamt on aught but butcheries: | |
| Didst thou not kill this king? | |
GLOUCESTER | I grant ye. | |
LADY ANNE | Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too | |
| Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed! | |
| O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous! | |
GLOUCESTER | The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him. |
LADY 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. | |
LADY ANNE | And thou unfit for any place but hell. | |
GLOUCESTER | Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. |
LADY ANNE | Some dungeon. | |
GLOUCESTER | Your bed-chamber. | |
LADY ANNE | I'll rest betide the chamber where thou liest! | |
GLOUCESTER | So will it, madam till I lie with you. | |
LADY ANNE | I hope so. |
GLOUCESTER | I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, | |
| To leave this keen encounter of our wits, | |
| And fall somewhat into a slower method, | |
| Is not the causer of the timeless deaths | |
| Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, |
| As blameful as the executioner? | |
LADY ANNE | Thou art the cause, and most accursed effect. | |
GLOUCESTER | Your beauty was the cause of that effect; | |
| Your beauty: which did haunt me in my sleep | |
| To undertake the death of all the world, |
| So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. | |
LADY ANNE | If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, | |
| These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. | | 120 |
GLOUCESTER | These eyes could never endure sweet 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. | |
LADY ANNE | Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life! | |
GLOUCESTER | Curse not thyself, fair creature thou art both. | |
LADY ANNE | I would I were, to be revenged on thee. |
GLOUCESTER | It is a quarrel most unnatural, | |
| To be revenged on him that loveth you. | |
LADY ANNE | It is a quarrel just and reasonable, | |
| To be revenged on him that slew my husband. | |
GLOUCESTER | He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband, |
| Did it to help thee to a better husband. | |
LADY ANNE | His better doth not breathe upon the earth. | |
GLOUCESTER | He lives that loves thee better than he could. | |
LADY ANNE | Name him. | |
GLOUCESTER | Plantagenet. |
LADY ANNE | Why, that was he. | |
GLOUCESTER | The selfsame name, but one of better nature. | |
LADY ANNE | Where is he? | |
GLOUCESTER | Here. | |
| She spitteth at him | |
| Why dost thou spit at me? |
LADY ANNE | Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! | | 140 |
GLOUCESTER | Never came poison from so sweet a place. | |
LADY ANNE | Never hung poison on a fouler toad. | |
| Out of my sight! thou dost infect my eyes. | |
GLOUCESTER | Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. |
LADY 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, | |
| Shamed their aspect with store of childish drops: |
| These eyes that never shed remorseful tear, | |
| No, when my father York and Edward wept, | |
| To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made | | 152 |
| When black-faced 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 proposed my fee, | | 164 |
| My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. | |
| She looks scornfully at him | |
| Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were 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. | | 170 |
| 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. | |
| [ Here she lets fall the sword. | | 180 |
| Take up the sword again, or take up me. | |
LADY ANNE | Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death, |
| I will not be the executioner. | |
GLOUCESTER | Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. | |
LADY ANNE | I have already. | |
GLOUCESTER | Tush, that was in thy rage: | |
| Speak it again, and, even with the word, |
| That hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, | |
| Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love; | |
| To both their deaths thou shalt be accessary. | | 190 |
LADY ANNE | I would I knew thy heart. | |
GLOUCESTER | 'Tis figured in my tongue. |
LADY ANNE | I fear me both are false. | |
GLOUCESTER | Then never man was true. | |
LADY ANNE | Well, well, put up your sword. | |
GLOUCESTER | Say, then, my peace is made. | |
LADY ANNE | That shall you know hereafter. |
GLOUCESTER | But shall I live in hope? | |
LADY ANNE | All men, I hope, live so. | |
GLOUCESTER | Vouchsafe to wear this ring. | |
LADY ANNE | To take is not to give. | |
GLOUCESTER | Look, how this ring encompasseth finger. |
| Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; | |
| Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. | |
| And if thy poor devoted suppliant may | |
| But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, | |
| Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. |
LADY ANNE | What is it? | |
GLOUCESTER | That it would please thee leave these sad designs | |
| To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, | |
| And presently repair to Crosby Place; | | 207 |
| Where, after I have solemnly interr'd |
| At Chertsey monastery 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. |
LADY 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. | |
LADY ANNE | 'Tis more than you deserve; |
| But since you teach me how to flatter you, | |
| Imagine I have said farewell already. | |
| Exeunt LADY ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKELEY | |
GLOUCESTER | Sirs, take up the corse. | | 220 |
GENTLEMEN | Towards Chertsey, noble 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 her hatred by; | |
| Having God, her conscience, and these bars | |
| against me, | |
| And I nothing to back my suit at all, | | 230 |
| 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, | |
| Framed in the prodigality of nature, | |
| Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal, | |
| The spacious world cannot again afford | | 240 |
| And will she yet debase 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 unshapen 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 marvellous proper man. | |
| I'll be at charges for a looking-glass, | | 250 |
| And entertain some score or two of tailors, |
| To study fashions to adorn my body: | |
| Since I am crept in favour with myself, | |
| 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 glass, | |
| That I may see my shadow as I pass. | |
| Exit | |