« AnkstesnisTęsti »
But 'twas thy Beauty that provoked me.
Nay, now dispatch : 'Twas I that stabb'd young Edward,
But 'twas thy heav'nly Face that set me on.
[She falls the Sworde Take up the Sword again, or take up me.
Annc. Arise, Disembler, though I wish thy Death,
I will not be thy Executioner.
Glo. Then bid me kill my self, and I will do it. .
Anné. I have already.
Glo. That was in thy Rage :
Speak it again, and even with thy word,
This Hand, which for thy love, did kill thy Love,
Shall for thy love, kill a far truer Love;
To both their Deaths Thale thou be accessary.
Anne. I would I knew thy Heart.
Glo. 'Tis figur'd in my Tongue.
Anne. I fear me, both are false.
Glo. Then never Man was true.
Anne. Well, well, put up your Sword.
Glo. Say then, my Peace is made.
Anne. That shalt thou know hereafter.
Glo. But shall I live in hope?
Anne. All Men I hope live fo.
Glo. Vouchsafe to wear this Ring.
Look how my Ring encompasseth thy Finger,
Even so thy Breast incloseth my poor Heart:
Wear both of them, for both of them are thinc.
And if thy poor devoted Servant may
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Thou doft confirm this Happiness for ever.
Anne. What is it?
Glo. 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 Cherifey Monaft'ry this noble King,
And wet his Grave with my repentant Tears,
I will with all expedient duty see you.
For divers unknown Reasons, I beleech you,
Grant me this Boon.
Anne. With all my Heart, aud much it joys me too,
To see you are become lo penitent.
Treffel and Barkley, go along with me.
Glo. Bid me farewel.
Anne. 'Tis more than you deserve :
' But since you teach me how to flatter you, Imagine have said farewel already. (Exeunt two with Anne.
Gent. Towards Chertsey, Noble Lord?
Glo. Now to Wnite-Friars, there attend my coming.
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 killed her Husband, and his Father!
To take her in her Heart's extreameft hate,
With Curfes in her Mouth, Tears in her Eyes,
The bleeding witness of my hatred by,
Having God, her Conscience, and these Bars against me,
And I no Friends to back my suit withal,
But the plain Devil and diffembling Looks:
And yet to win her~~All the Worid to nothing!
Hath she forgot already that brave Prince,
Edward, her Lord, whom I, some three Months since,
Stab’d in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
A sweeter and a lovelier Gentleman,
Fram'd in the prodigality of Nature,
Young, Valiant, Wife, and, no doubt, right Royal,
The spacious World cannot again afford:
And will the thus abase her Eyes on me,
That cropt the Golden prime of this fwect Princes
And made her Widow to a woful Bed ?
On me, whose All not equals Edward's Moiety?
On me, that halts, and am mithapen thus?
My Dukedom to a beggarly Denier,
I do mistake my Person all this while:
Upon my Life Me finds, although I cannot,
My felf to be a marv'lous proper Man.
I'll be at charges for a Looking.glass,
And entertain a score or two of Tailors,
To study Fashions to adorn my Body:
Since I am crepe in favour with my fell, .
I will maintain it with some little Colt.
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 fee my Shadow as I pass.
Enter the Queen, Lord Rivers, and Lord Gray. Riv. Have patience, Madam, there is no doubt, his Majesty Will soon recover his accustom'd Health.
Gray. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse,
Therefore for God's sake entertain good Comfort,
And cheer his Grace with quick and merry Eyes.
Queen. If he were dead, what would becide on me?
Gray. No other harm, but loss of such a Lord.
Queen. The loss of such a Lord includes all harms.
Gray. The Heavens have blest you with a goodly Son
To be your Comforter when he is gone.
Queen. Ah! he is young, and his Minority
Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloster,
A Man that loves not me, nor none of you.
Riv. Is it concluded, he shall be Protector ?
Queen. It is determin'd, not concluded yet:
But so it must be, if the King miscarry.
Enter Buckingham and Derby.
Gray. Here comes the Lords of Buckingham and Derby.
Buck. Good time of Day unto your Royal Grace.
Derby. God make your Majesty joyful, as you have been.
Queen. The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby,
To your good Prayer will scarcely lay, Amen ;
Yet Derby, notwithltanding she's your Wife,
And loves not me, be you, good Lord, assur'de
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 the be accus'd on true report,
Bear with her weakness; which I chink proceeds
From wayward Sickness, and no grounded Malice.
Quern. Sow you the King to Day, my Lord of Derbj?
Derby. But now; the Duke of Buckingham and I Are come from visiting his Majesty.
Queen. What likelihood of his Amendment; Lords?
Buck. Madam, good hope; his Grace Speaks chearfully:
Queen. God grant him Health; did you confer with him?
Buck. Ay, Madam, he desires to make Atonement,
Between the Duke of Gloster and your Brothers,
And between them and my Lord Chamberlain;
And sent to warn them to his Royal Presence.
Queen. Would all were well but that will never be
I fear our Happiness is at the height.
Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it,
Who is it that coinplains unto the King,
That I, forsooth, ain stern, and love them not?
By holy Paul, they love his Grace buc lightly,
That fill his Ears with such diffentious Rumors.
Because I cannot fitter, and look fair,
Smile in Mens Faces, smooth, deceive and cog,
Duck with French nods, and A pish Courtesie,
I must be held a rancorous Enemy.
Cannot a plain Man live and think no harm,
But thus his fimple Truth must be abus'd
With filken, sly, insinuating Jacks?
Gray. To whom in all this presence speaks your Grace?
Glo. Tothee, that hast not Honesty nor Grace:
When have I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong?
Or thee? or thee? or any of your Factions
A Plague upon you all. His Royal Grace,
Whom God preserve, better than you would wish,
Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing while,
But you must trouble him with lewd Complaints.
Queen. Brother of Glo'ster, you mistake the Matter:
The King on his own Royal Disposition,
And not provok’d by any Suitor else,
Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,
That in your outward Adion News it self
Against my Children, Brothers, and my Self,
Makes him to send, that he may learn the ground.
Glo. I cannot tell the World is grown so bad,
That Wrens make prey, whete Eagles dare not perch.
Since every Jack became a Gentleman,
There's many a gentle Person made a Jack. (Gloster,
Qucen. Come, come, we know your meaning, Brother
You envy, my Advancement, and my
God grant we never may have need of you.
Glo. Mean time God grants that I have need of you.
Our Brother is imprison'd by your meansa
My self disgrac'd, and the Nobility
Held in Contempt, while great Promotions
Are daily given to enoble those,
That scarce, fume two Days since, were worth a Noble.
Queen. By him that rais'd me to this careful heighty
From that contented hap which I enjoy’d,
I never did incense his Majesty
Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been
An earnest Advocate to plead for him.
My Lord, you do me Thameful Injury,
Falsely to draw me in these vile Suspe&s. .
Glo. You may deny, that you were not the meant
Of my Lord Hastings late Imprisonment.
Riv. She may, my Lord, for
Glo. She may, Lord Rivers, why who knows not so?
She may do more, Sir, then denying that:
She may help you to many fair Preferments,
And then deny her aiding Hand therein,
And lay those Honours on your high desert.
What may she not? fhe may---ay marry may she--
Riv. What marry may fhe?
Glo. What marry may the? marry with a King,
A Batchelor, and a bandlom Stripling too:
I wis your Grandam had a worfer match.
Queen. My Lord of Glofter, I have coo long born
Your blunt Upbraidings, and your bitter Scoffs :
By Heav'n I will acquaint his Majesty,
Of those grofs taunts, chat oft I have endur'd.
I had rather be a Country. Servant Maid
Than a great Queen with this Condirion, :
To be so baited, scorn'd, and stormed at;
Small joy have I in being England's Qutecno