Glo. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return, Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so, Enter HASTINGS. Hast. Good time of day unto my gracious lord! Glo. As much unto my good lord chamberlain ! Well are you welcome to this open air, How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment ? Hast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must: But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks, Glo. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; For they, that were your enemies, are his, Hast. No news so bad abroad, as this at home;The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy, And his physicians fear him mightily. Glo. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed. O, he hath kept an evil diet long, And over-much consum'd his royal person; 'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. What, is he in his bed? Hast. He is. Glo. Go you before, and I will follow you. [Exit HASTINGS. He cannot live, I hope; and must not die, With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments; Which done, God take king Edward to his mercy, For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter: By marrying her, which I must reach unto. Clarence still breathes: Edward still lives, and reigns; When they are gone, then must I count my gains. SCENE II. [Exit. Another Street. Enter the Corpse of King HENRY the Sixth, borne in an open coffin; Gentlemen bearing halberds, to guard it; and Lady ANNE as Mourner. Anne. Set down, set down your honourable load, 5 If honour may be shrouded in a hearse, $ With becoming reverence for the dead. Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son, Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these wounds! Lo, in these windows, that let forth thy life, May fright the hopeful mother at the view; Than I am made by my young lord, and thee ! – Enter GLOSTER. Glo. Stay you, that bear the corse, and set it down. Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend, To stop devoted charitable deeds? Glo. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him that disobeys. 1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. Glo. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou when I com mand: Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, Provokes this deluge most unnatural. O Thou, 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; Glo. Lady, you know no rules of charity, No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity. Glo. But I know none, and therefore am no beast. Anne. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth! Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so an gry. Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, Glo. 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. Glo. By such despair, I should accuse myself. Anne. And, by despairing, shalt thou stand excus'd; For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, That didst unworthy slaughter upon others. Glo. Say, that I slew them not? Why then, they are not dead: But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee. Glo. I did not kill your husband. Why, then he is alive. Glo. Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. Anne. In thy soul's throat thou liest ; queen Margaret saw Thy murd'rous faulchion smoking in his blood; The which thou once didst bend against her breast, But that thy brothers beat aside the point. Glo. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue, That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. Anne. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind, That never dreamt on aught but butcheries: Didst thou not kill this king? |