More miserable by the death of him,
Than I am made by my young lord, and thee!-
Come, now, toward Chertsey with your holy load,
Taken from Paul's to be interred there;
And, still as you are weary of the weight,
Rest you, whiles I lament king Henry's corse.

[The bearers take up the corpse, and advance.

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. Unnianner'd dog! stand thou when I command: Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, 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. 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. Glo. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, [us not: 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, 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 Or, earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick : [dead, As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood, Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered!

Glo. Lady, you know no rules of charity,
Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
Anne. Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor man,
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 angry.-
Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,
Of these supposed evils, to give me leave,
By circumstance, but to acquit myself.

Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man,
For these known evils, but to give me leave,
By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self.

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. Glo. I did not kill your husband. Anne. Why, then he is alive. Glo. Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand.

Anne. In thy sou.'s throat thou liest; queen Margaret saw

Thy murderous 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?

Glo. I grant ye.

[me too,

Anne. Dost grant me, hedge-hog? then, God grant Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deed! O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous.

Glo. The fitter for the King of heaven that hath him. Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. Glo. Let him thank me, that holp to send him thiFor he was fitter for that place, than earth. [ther; Anne. And thou unfit for any place, but hell. 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. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. Anne. I hope so.

Glo. 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?

Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most accurs'd effect.
Glo. 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.
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: [wreck
As all the world is cheered by the sun,
So I by that; it is my day, my life.

[thy life! Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death Glo. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both. Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee. Glo. It is a quarrel most unnatural,

To be reveng'd on him that loveth thee.

Anne. It is a quarrel just and reasonable, To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband. Glo. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband, Did it to help thee to a better husband.

Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth. Glo. He lives, that loves you better than he could. Anne. Name him.

[at me?

Glo. Here: [She spits at him.] Why dost thou spit Anne. 'Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! Glo. 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.

Glo. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. Anne. 'Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead!

Glo. 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,Not, when my father York and Edward wept,

Enter BUCKINGHAM and STANLEY. Grey. Here come the lords of Buckingham and Stanley.

been.

Buck. Good time of day unto your royal grace! Stan. God make your majesty joyful as you have [Stanley, Q. Eliz. The countess Richmond, good my lord of To your good prayer will scarcely say-amen. Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife, And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd, I hate not you for her proud arrogance.

Stan. 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.
Q. Elis. Saw you the king to-day, my lord of Stanley?
Stan. But now, the duke of Buckingham, and I,
Are come from visiting his majesty.

Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment, lords?
Buck. Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheer-
fully.
[him?
Q. Eliz. God grant him health! did you confer with
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.
Q. Eliz. 'Would all were well! but that will never
I fear our happiness is at the height. [be ;-

Enter GLOSTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET. Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it :Who are they, that complain unto the king, That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not? By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly, That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours. Because I cannot flatter, and speak fair, Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, I must be held a rancorous enemy. Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm, But thus his simple truth must be abus'd By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

[grace?

Grey. To whom in all this presence speaks your Glo. To thee, that hast nor honesty, nor grace. When have I injured thee? when done thee wrong? Or thee?-or thee?-or any of your faction? 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. Q. Eliz. Brother of Gloster, you mistake the The king, of his own royal disposition, And not provok'd by any suitor else; Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred, That in your outward action shews itself, Against my children, brothers, and myself, Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it.

[matter:

Glo I cannot tell ;--The world is grown so bad,
That wrens may prey where eagles dare not perch:
Since every Jack became a gentleman,
There's many a gentle person made a Jack.
QEliz. Come, come, we know your meaning,
brother Gloster;

You envy my advancement, and my friends;
God grant, we never may have need of you!
Glo. Meantime, God grants that we have need of
Our brother is imprison'd by your means,
Myself disgrac'd, and the nobility

Held in contempt; while great promotions
Are daily given, to ennoble those

[you:

That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble.

Q. Eliz. By Him, that rais'd me to this careful From that contented hap which I enjoy'd, [height 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 shameful injury, Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects.

Glo. You may deny that you were not the cause Of my lord Hastings' late imprisonment. Riv. She may, my lord; for

Glo. She may, lord Rivers ?-why, who knows not She may do more, sir than denying that: [so' 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? She may,-ay, marry, may Riv. What, marry, may she? [she,Glo. What, marry, may she? marry with a king, A bachelor, a handsome stripling too: I wis, your grandam had a worser match.

Q. Eliz. My lord of Gloster, I have too long borne Your blunt upbraidings, and your bitter scoffs By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty, Of those gross taunts I often have endur'd. I had rather be a country servant-maid, Than a great queen, with this conditionTo be so baited, scorn'd, and storm'd at. Small joy have I in being England's queen.

Enter QUEEN MARGARET, behind.

Q. Mar. And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech
Thy honour, state, and seat, is due to me. [thee!
Glo. What? threat you me with telling of the king?
Tell him, and spare not look, what I have said
I will avouch, in presence of the king:

I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower.
'Tis time to speak, my pains are quite forgot.

Q. Mar. Out, devil! I remember them too well: Thou kill'dst my husband Henry in the Tower, And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury.

Glo. Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband king, I was a pack-horse in his great affairs; A weeder out of his proud adversaries, A liberal rewarder of his friends; To royalize his blood, I spilt mine own.

[thine.

Q. Mar. Ay, and much better blood than his, or Glo. In all which time, you, and your husband Grey, Were factious for the house of Lancaster ;And, Rivers, so were you : Was not your husband In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain? Let me put in your minds, if you forget, What you have been ere now, and what you are, Withal, what I have been, and what I am.

Q. Mar. A murd'rous villain, and so still thou art. Glo. Poor Clarence did forsake his father Warwick, Ay, and forswore himself,-Which Jesu pardon!— Q. Mar. Which God revenge!

Glo. To fight on Edward's party, for the crown; And, for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up: I would to God, my heart were flint like Edward's, Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine;

I am too childish-foolish for this world.

Q. Mar. Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave this Thou cacodæmon! there thy kingdom is. [world,

Riv. My lord of Gloster, in those busy days, Which here you urge, to prove us enemies, We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king; So should we you, if you should be our king. Glo. If I should be?-I had rather be a pedlar: Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof!

Q. Eliz. As little joy, my lord, as you suppose

You should enjoy, were you this country's king;
As little joy you may suppose in me,
That I enjoy, being the queen thereof.

[Advancing.

Q. Mar. A little joy enjoys the queen thereof! For I am she, and altogether joyless. I can no longer hold me patient.Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out In sharing that which you have pill'd from me : Which of you trembles not, that looks on me? If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects; Yet that, by you depos'd, you quake like rebels?— Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away! [sight? Glo. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in my Q. Mar. But repetition of what thou hast marr'd; That will I make, before I let thee go.

Glo. Wert thou not banished on pain of death? Q. Mar. I was; but I do find more pain in banishThan death can yield me here by my abode. [ment,

A husband, and a son, thou ow'st to me,

And thou, a kingdom;-all of you, allegiance:

This sorrow that I have, by right is yours;
And all the pleasures you usurp, are mine.

The worm of conscience still be gnaw thy soul!
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st,
And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
Unless it be while some tormenting dream
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils!
Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog!
Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity
The slave of nature, and the son of hell!
Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb!
Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins!
Thou rag of honour! thou detested-
Glo. Margaret.
Q. Mur.
Glo.

Q. Mar.

Richard!

Ha?

I call thee not.

Glo. The curse my noble father laid on thee,When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper, And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes; And then, to dry them, gav'st the duke a clout, Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland His curses, then from bitterness of soul Denounc'd against thee, are all fallen upon thee; And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed.

Q Eliz. So just is God, to right the innocent. Hast. O'twas the foulest deed, to slay that babe, And the most merciless, that e'er was heard of.

Riv. Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. Dor. No man but prophesy'd revenge for it. Buck. Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. Q. Mar. What! were you snarling all, before I came, Ready to catch each other by the throat, And turn you all your hatred now on me? Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven, That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, Their kingdom's loss, my woeful banishment, Could all but answer for that peevish brat? Can curses pierce the clouds, and enter heaven Why, then give way, dull clouds, to my quick

curses!-

Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself.
The day will come, that thou shalt wish for me
To help thee curse this pois'nous bunch-back'd toad.
Hast. False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse;
Lest, to thy harm, thou move our patience. [mine.
Q. Mar. Foul shame upon you! you have all m.ov'd
Riv. Were you well serv'd, you would be taught

your duty.

[duty,

Though not by war, by surfeit die your king!
As ours by murder, to make him a king!
Edward, thy son, that now is prince of Wales,
For Edward, my son, that was prince of Wales,
Die in his youth, by like untimely violence!
Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen,
Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self!
Long nay'st thou live, to wail thy children's loss;
And see another, as I see thee now,
Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine!
Long die thy happy days before thy death;
And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief,
Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen!-
Rivers, and Dorset,-you were standers by,-
And so wast thou, lord Hastings,-when my son
Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray him,
That none of you may live your natural age,
But by some unlook'd accident cut off!

[hag. Glo. Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd Q. Mar. And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me.

If heaven have any grievous plague in store,
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,
O, let them keep it, till thy sins be ripe,
And then hurl down their indignation

On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace!

marquis.

Dor. It touches you, my lord, as much as me. Glo. Ay, and much more: But I was born so high, Our aiery buildeth in the cedar's top,

And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun,

Q. Mar. And turns the sun to shade ;-alas! alas!
Witness my son, now in the shade of death:
Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrat
Hath in eternal darkness folded up.

Your aiery buildeth in our aiery's nest :--
O God, that see'st it, do not suffer it;
As it was won with blood, lost be it so!

Buck. Peace, peace, for shame, if not for charity.
Q. Mar. Urge neither charity nor shame to me:
Uncharitably with me have you dealt,
And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd.-
My charity is outrage, life my shame,-
And in my shame still live my sorrow's rage!
Buck. Have done, have done.

Q. Mar. O princely Buckingham, I kiss thy hand In sign of league and amity with thee: Now fair befal thee, and thy noble house! Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, Nor thou within the compass of my curse.

Buck. Nor no one here; for curses never pass The lips of those that breathe them in the air.