Glo. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not: For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, Provokes this deluge most unnatural. O God, 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, man; No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity. 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 No excuse current, but to hang thyself. [make 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. Anne. Why then, they are not dead: But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee. Anne. 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 murderous faulchion smoking in his blood; Glo. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue, Glo. I grant ye. Anne. Dost grant me, hedge-hog? then, God grant me too, Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deed! [him. Glo. The fitter for the King of heaven that hath Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. [thither; Glo. Let him thank me, that holp to send him For he was fitter for that place, than earth. Anne. And thou unfit for any place but hell. [it. Glo. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name Anne. Some dungeon. Glo. Your bed-chamber. Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest! Glo. But, gentle lady Anne, To leave this keen encounter of our wits, And fall somewhat into a slower1 method ;— Of these Plantagenets, Henry, and Edward, As blameful as the executioner? Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most accurs'd effect.2 Glo. Your beauty was the cause of that effect. Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. Glo. These eyes could not endure that beauty's 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. [wreck, Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life! Glo. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both. To be reveng'd on him that loveth thee. Anne. It is a quarrel just and reasonable, Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth. Glo. Anne. Plantagenet. Why, that was he. Glo. The self-same name, but one of better nature. Anne. Where is he? Glo. Here: [She spits at him.] Why dost thou spit at me? Anne. 'Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! slower, for serious. 9 effect, for executioner. Glo. Never came poison from so sweet a place. Glo. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. Anne. 'Would they were basilisks, to strike thec dead! Glo. I would they were, that I might die at once; And twenty times made pause, to sob, and weep, My tongue could never learn sweet soothing word; speak. My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, Lo! here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; [He lays his breast open; she offers at it 'Richard, Duke of York, Protector. • Edward IV. Nay, do not pause; for I did kill king Henry ;— Nay, now despatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. [She lets fall 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. Glo. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. Glo. That was in thy rage: Speak it again, and, even with the word, This hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. Anne. I would, I knew thy heart. Glo. My tongue. 'Tis figur❜d in Anne. Glo. Anne. I fear me, both are false. Then man Was never true. Glo. Say then, my peace is made. Well, well, put up your sword. Anne. That shall you know Vouchsafe to wear this ring. [She puts on the ring. Anne. To take, is not to give. Glo. Look, how this ring encompasseth 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, |