The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: q5v - Histories, p. 174

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The Life and Death of Richard the Third. Rich. Euen so, and please your Worship Brakenbury,
[90]
You may partake of any thing we say: We speake no Treason man; We say the King Is wise and vertuous, and his Noble Queene Well strooke in yeares, faire, and not iealious. We say, that Shores Wife hath a pretty Foot,
[95]
A cherry Lip, a bonny Eye, a passing pleasing tongue: And that the Queenes Kindred are made gentle Folkes. How say you sir? can you deny all this ?
Bra. With this (my Lord) my selfe haue nought to doo. Rich. Naught to do with Mistris Shore?
[100]
I tell thee Fellow, he that doth naught with her (Excepting one) were best to do it secretly alone.
Bra. What one, my Lord? Rich. Her Husband Knaue, would'st thou betray me? Bra. I do beseech your Grace
[105]
To pardon me, and withall forbeare Your Conferenee Conference with the Noble Duke.
Cla. We know thy charge Brakenbury, and wil obey. Rich. We are the Queenes abiects, and must obey. Brother farewell, I will vnto the King,
[110]
And whatsoe're you will imploy me in, Were it to call King Edwards Widdow, Sister, I will performe it to infranchise you. Meane time, this deepe disgrace in Brotherhood, Touches me deeper then you can imagine.
Cla.
[115]
I know it pleaseth neither of vs well.
Rich. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long, I will deliuer you, or else lye for you: Meane time, haue patience. Cla. I must perforce: Farewell A stain partially obscures the end of this word.. Exit Clar. Rich.
[120]
Go treade the path that thou shalt ne're return: Simple plaine Clarence, I do loue thee so, That I will shortly send thy Soule to Heauen, If Heauen will take the present at our hands. But who comes heere? the new deliuered Hastings?
Enter Lord Hastings. Hast.
[125]
Good time of day vnto my gracious Lord.
Rich. As much vnto my good Lord Chamberlaine: Well are you welcome to this open Ayre, How hath your Lordship brook'd imprisonment? Hast. With patience (Noble Lord) as prisoners must:
[130]
But I shall liue (my Lord) to giue them thankes That were the cause of my imprisonment.
Rich. No doubt, no doubt, and so shall Clarence too, For they that were your Enemies, are his, And haue preuail'd as much on him, as you, Hast.
[135]
More pitty, that the Eagles should be mew'd, Whiles Kites and Buzards play at liberty.
Rich. What newes abroad? Hast. No newes so bad abroad, as this at home: The King is sickly, weake, and melancholly,
[140]
And his Physitians feare him mightily.
Rich. Now by S. Saint Iohn, that Newes is bad indeed. O he hath kept an euill Diet long, And ouer‑much consum'd his Royall Person: 'Tis very greeuous to be thought vpon.
[145]
Where is he, in his bed?
Hast. He is. Rich. Go you before, and I will follow you. Exit Hastings. He cannot liue I hope, and must not dye, Till George be pack'd with post‑horse vp to Heauen.

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Right Column


[150]
Ile in to vrge his hatred more to Clarence, With Lyes well steel'd with weighty Arguments; And if I faile not in my deepe intent, Clarence hath not another day to liue: Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,
[155]
And leaue the world for me to bussle in. For then, Ile marry Warwickes yongest daughter. What though I kill'd her Husband, and her Father, The readiest way to make the Wench amends, Is to become her Husband, and her Father:
[160]
The which will I, not all so much for loue, As for another secret close intent, By marrying her, which I must reach vnto: But yet I run before my horse to Market: Clarence still breathes, Edward still liues and raignes,
[165]
When they are gone, then must I count my gaines.
Exit
Scena Secunda. [Act 1, Scene 2] Enter the Coarse of Henrie the sixt with Halberds to guard it, Lady Anne being the Mourner. Anne. Set downe, set downe your honourable load, If Honor may be shrowded in a Herse; Whil'st I a‑while obsequiously lament Th'vntimely fall of Vertuous Lancaster.
[170]
Poore key‑cold figure of a holy King, Pale Ashes of the House of Lancaster; Thou bloodlesse Remnant of that Royall Blood, Be it lawfull that I inuocate thy Ghost, To heare the Lamentations of poore Anne,
[175]
Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtred Sonne, Stab'd by the selfesame hand that made these wounds. Loe, in these windowes that let forth thy life, I powre the helplesse Balme of my poore eyes. O cursed be the hand that made these holes:
[180]
Cursed the Heart, that had the heart to do it: C ursed the Blood, that let this blood from hence: More direfull hap betide that hated Wretch That makes vs wretched by the death of thee, Then I can wish to Wolues, to Spiders, Toades,
[185]
Or any creeping venom'd thing that liues. If euer he haue Childe, Abortiue be it, Prodigeous, and vntimely brought to light, Whose vgly and vnnaturall Aspect May fright the hopefull Mother at the view,
[190]
And that be Heyre to his vnhappinesse. If euer he haue Wife, let her be made More miserable by the death of him, Then I am made by my young Lord, and thee. Come now towards Chertsey with your holy Lode,
[195]
Taken from Paules, to be interred there. And still as you are weary of this waight, Rest you, whiles I lament King Henries Coarse.
Enter Richard Duke of Gloster. Rich. Stay you that beare the Coarse, & set it down. An. What blacke Magitian coniures vp this Fiend,
[200]
To stop deuoted charitable deeds?
Rich. Villaines set downe the Coarse, or by S. Saint Paul, Ile make a Coarse of him that disobeyes. Gen.

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Scena Secunda. [Act 1, Scene 2] Enter the Coarse of Henrie the sixt with Halberds to guard it, Lady Anne being the Mourner. Anne. Set downe, set downe your honourable load, If Honor may be shrowded in a Herse; Whil'st I a‑while obsequiously lament Th'vntimely fall of Vertuous Lancaster.
[170]
Poore key‑cold figure of a holy King, Pale Ashes of the House of Lancaster; Thou bloodlesse Remnant of that Royall Blood, Be it lawfull that I inuocate thy Ghost, To heare the Lamentations of poore Anne,
[175]
Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtred Sonne, Stab'd by the selfesame hand that made these wounds. Loe, in these windowes that let forth thy life, I powre the helplesse Balme of my poore eyes. O cursed be the hand that made these holes:
[180]
Cursed the Heart, that had the heart to do it: C ursed the Blood, that let this blood from hence: More direfull hap betide that hated Wretch That makes vs wretched by the death of thee, Then I can wish to Wolues, to Spiders, Toades,
[185]
Or any creeping venom'd thing that liues. If euer he haue Childe, Abortiue be it, Prodigeous, and vntimely brought to light, Whose vgly and vnnaturall Aspect May fright the hopefull Mother at the view,
[190]
And that be Heyre to his vnhappinesse. If euer he haue Wife, let her be made More miserable by the death of him, Then I am made by my young Lord, and thee. Come now towards Chertsey with your holy Lode,
[195]
Taken from Paules, to be interred there. And still as you are weary of this waight, Rest you, whiles I lament King Henries Coarse.
Enter Richard Duke of Gloster. Rich. Stay you that beare the Coarse, & set it down. An. What blacke Magitian coniures vp this Fiend,
[200]
To stop deuoted charitable deeds?
Rich. Villaines set downe the Coarse, or by S.Saint Paul, Ile make a Coarse of him that disobeyes. Gen. My Lord stand backe, and let the Coffin passe. Rich. Vnmanner'd Dogge,
[205]
Stand'st thou when I commaund: Aduance thy Halbert higher then my brest, Or by S.Saint Paul Ile strike thee to my Foote, And spurne vpon thee Begger for thy boldnesse.
Anne. What do you tremble? are you all affraid?
[210]
Alas, I blame you not, for you are Mortall, And Mortall eyes cannot endure the Diuell. Auant thou dreadfull minister of Hell; Thou had'st but power ouer his Mortall body, His Soule thou canst not haue: Therefore be gone.
Rich.
[215]
Sweet Saint, for Charity, be not so curst.
An. Foule Diuell, For Gods sake hence, and trouble vs not, For thou hast made the happy earth thy Hell: Fill'd it with cursing cries, and deepe exclaimes:
[220]
If thou delight to view thy heynous deeds, Behold this patterne of thy Butcheries. Oh Gentlemen, see, see dead Henries wounds, Open their congeal'd mouthes, and bleed afresh. Blush, blush, thou lumpe of fowle Deformitie:
[225]
For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood From cold and empty Veines where no blood dwels. Thy Deeds inhumane and vnnaturall, Prouokes this Deluge most vnnaturall. O God! which this Blood mad'st, reuenge his death:
[230]
O Earth! which this Blood drink'st, reuenge his death. Either Heau'n with Lightning strike the murth'rer dead: Or Earth gape open wide, and eate him quicke, As thou dost swallow vp this good Kings blood, Which his Hell‑gouern'd arme hath butchered.
Rich.
[235]
Lady, you know no Rules of Charity, Which renders good for bad, Blessings for Curses.
An. Villaine, thou know'st nor law of God nor Man, No Beast so fierce, but knowes some touch of pitty. Rich. But I know none, and therefore am no Beast. An.
[240]
O wonderfull, when diuels tell the truth!
Rich. More wonderfull, when Angels are so angry: Vouchsafe (diuine perfection of a Woman) Of these supposed Crimes, to giue me leaue By circumstance, but to acquit my selfe. An.
[245]
Vouchsafe (defus'd infection of man) Of these knowne euils, but to giue me leaue By circumstance, to curse thy cursed Selfe.
Rich. Fairer then tongue can name thee, let me haue Some patient leysure to excuse my selfe. An.
[250]
Fouler then heart can thinke thee, Thou can'st make no excuse currant, An ink mark follows the end of this line. But to hang thy selfe.
Rich. By such dispaire, I should accuse my selfe. An. And by dispairing shalt thou stand excused,
[255]
For doing worthy Vengeance on thy selfe, That did'st vnworthy slaughter vpon others.
Rich. Say that I slew them not. An. Then say they were not slaine: But dead they are, and diuellish slaue by thee. Rich.
[260]
I did not kill your Husband.
An. Why then he is aliue. Rich. Nay, he is dead, and slaine by Edwards hands. An. In thy foule throat thou Ly'st, Queene Margaret saw
[265]
Thy murd'rous Faulchion smoaking in his blood: The which, thou once didd'st bend against her brest, But that thy Brothers beate aside the point.
Rich. I was prouoked by her sland'rous tongue, That laid their guilt, vpon my guiltlesse Shoulders. An.
[270]
Thou was't prouoked by thy bloody minde, That neuer dream'st on ought but Butcheries: Did'st thou not kill this King?
Rich. I graunt ye. An. Do'st grant me Hedge‑hogge,
[275]
Then God graunt me too Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deede, O he was gentle, milde, and vertuous.
Rich. The better for the King of heauen that hath him. An. He is in heauen, where thou shalt neuer come. Rich.
[280]
Let him thanke me, that holpe to send him thi­ ther: For he was fitter for that place then earth.
An. And thou vnfit for any place, but hell. Rich. Yes one place else, if you will heare me name it. An. Some dungeon. Rich.
[285]
Your Bed‑chamber.
An. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou lyest. Rich. So will it Madam, till I lye with you. An. I hope so. Rich. I know so. But gentle Lady Anne,
[290]
To leaue this keene encounter of our wittes, And fall something into a slower method. Is not the causer of the timelesse deaths Of these Plantagenets, Henrie and Edward, As blamefull as the Executioner.
An.
[295]
Thou was't the cause, and most accurst effect.
Rich. Your beauty was the cause of that effect: Your beauty, that did haunt me in my sleepe, To vndertake the death of all the world, So I might liue one houre in your sweet bosome. An.
[300]
If I thought that, I tell thee Homicide, These Nailes should rent that beauty from my Cheekes.
Rich. These eyes could not endure y t beauties wrack, You should not blemish it, if I stood by; As all the world is cheared by the Sunne,
[305]
So I by that: It is my day, my life.
An. Blacke night ore‑shade thy day, & death thy life. Rich. Curse not thy selfe faire Creature, Thou art both. An. I would I were, to be reueng'd on thee. Rich.
[310]
It is a quarrell most vnnaturall, To be reueng'd on him that loueth thee.
An. It is a quarrell iust and reasonable, To be reueng'd on him that kill'd my Husband. Rich. He that bereft the Lady of thy Husband,
[315]
Did it to helpe thee to a better Husband.
An. His better doth not breath vpon the earth. Rich. He liues, that loues thee better then he could. An. Name him. Rich. Plantagenet. An.
[320]
Why that was he.
Rich. The selfesame name, but one of better Nature. An. Where is he? Rich. Heere: Spits at him. Why dost thou spit at me. An.
[325]
Would it were mortall poyson, for thy sake.
Rich. Neuer came poyson from so sweet a place. An. Neuer hung poyson on a fowler Toade. Out of my sight, thou dost infect mine eyes. Rich. Thine eyes (sweet Lady) haue infected mine. An.
[330]
Would they were Basiliskes, to strike thee dead.
Rich. I would they were, that I might dye at once: For now they kill me with a liuing death. Those eyes of thine, from mine haue drawne salt Teares; Sham'd their Aspects with store of childish drops:
[335]
These eyes, which neuer shed remorsefull teare, No, when my Father Yorke, and Edward wept, To heare the pittious moane that Rutland made When black‑fac'd Clifford shooke his sword at him. Nor when thy warlike Father like a Childe,
[340]
Told the sad storie of my Fathers death, Aod twenty times, made pause to sob and weepe: That all the standers by had wet their cheekes Like Trees bedash'd with raine. In that sad time, My manly eyes did scorne an humble teare:
[345]
And what these sorrowes could not thence exhale, Thy Beauty hath, and made them blinde with weeping. I neuer sued to Friend, nor Enemy: My Tongue could neuer learne sweet smoothing word. But now thy Beauty is propos'd my Fee,
[350]
My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speake. She lookes scornfully at him. Teach not thy lip such Scorne; for it was made For kissing Lady, not for such contempt. If thy reuengefull heart cannot forgiue, Loe heere I lend thee this sharpe‑pointed Sword,
[355]
Which if thou please to hide in this true brest, And let the Soule forth that adoreth thee, I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, And humbly begge the death vpon my knee. He layes his brest open, she offers at with his sword. Nay do not pause: For I did kill King Henrie,
[360]
But 'twas thy Beauty that prouoked me. Nay now dispatch: 'Twas I that stabb'd yong E dward, But 'twas thy Heauenly face that set me on. She fals the Sword. Take vp the Sword againe, or take vp me.
An. Arise Dissembler, though I wish thy death,
[365]
I will not be thy Executioner.
Rich. Then bid me kill my selfe, and I will do it. An. I haue already. Rich. That was in thy rage: Speake it againe, and euen with the word,
[370]
This hand, which for thy loue, did kill thy Loue, Shall for thy loue, kill a farre truer Loue, To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary.
An. I would I knew thy heart. Rich. 'Tis figur'd in my tongue. An.
[375]
I feare me, both are false.
Rich. Then neuer Man was true. An. Well, well, put vp your Sword. Rich. Say then my Peace is made. An. That shalt thou know heereafter. Rich.
[380]
But shall I liue in hope.
An. All men I hope liue so. Vouchsafe to weare this Ring. Rich. Looke how my Ring incompasseth thy Finger, Euen so thy Brest incloseth my poore heart:
[385]
Weare both of them, for both of them are thine. And if thy poore deuoted Seruant may But beg one fauour at thy gracious hand, Thou dost confirme his happinesse for euer.
An. What is it? Rich.
[390]
That it may please you leaue these sad designes, To him that hath most cause to be a Mourner, And presently repayre to Crosbie House: Where (after I haue solemnly interr'd At Chertsey Monast'ry this Noble King,
[395]
And wet this Graue with my Repentant Teares) 1 will with all expedient duty see you, For diuers vnknowne Reasons, I beseech you, Grant me this Boon.
An. With all my heart, and much it ioyes me too,
[400]
To see you are become so penitent. Tressel and Barkley, go along with me.
Rich. Bid me farwell. An. 'Tis more then you deserue: But since you teach me how to flatter you,
[405]
Imagine I haue saide farewell already.
Exit two with Anne. Gent. Towards Chertsey, Noble Lord ? Rich. No: to White Friars, there attend my comming Exit Coarse Was euer woman in this humour woo'd? Was euer woman in this humour wonne ?
[410]
Ile haue her, but I will not keepe her long. What? I that kill'd her Husband, and his Father, To take her in her hearts extreamest hate, With curses in her mouth, Teares in her eyes, The bleeding witnesse of my hatred by,
[415]
Hauing God, her Conscience, and these bars against me, And I, no Friends to backe my suite withall, But the plaine Diuell, and dissembling lookes? And yet to winne her? All the world to nothing. Hah!
[420]
Hath she forgot alreadie that braue Prince, Edward, her Lord, whom I (some three monthes since) Stab'd in my angry mood, at Tewkesbury? A sweeter, and a louelier Gentleman, Fram'd in the prodigallity of Nature:
[425]
Yong, Valiant, Wise, and (no doubt) right Royal, The spacious World cannot againe affoord: And will she yet abase her eyes on me, That cropt the Golden prime of this sweet Prince, And made her Widdow to a wofull Bed?
[430]
On me, whose All not equals Edwards Moytie? On me, that halts, and am mishapen thus? My Dukedome, to a Beggerly denier! I do mistake my person all this while: Vpon my life she findes (although I cannot)
[435]
My selfe to be a maru'llous proper man. Ile be at Charges for a Looking‑glasse, And entertaine a score or two of Taylors, To study fashions to adorne my body: Since I am crept in fauour with my selfe,
[440]
I will maintaine it with some little cost. But first Ile turne yon Fellow in his Graue, And then returne lamenting to my Loue. Shine out faire Sunne, till I haue bought a glasse, That I may see my Shadow as I passe.
exit.
 

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<div type="scene" n="2">
   <head rend="italic center">Scena Secunda.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 1, Scene 2]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter the Coarse of Henrie the sixt with Halberds to guard it,
      <lb/>Lady Anne being the Mourner.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">Anne.</speaker>
      <l n="166">Set downe, set downe your honourable load,</l>
      <l n="167">If Honor may be shrowded in a Herse;</l>
      <l n="168">Whil'st I a‑while obsequiously lament</l>
      <l n="169">Th'vntimely fall of Vertuous Lancaster.</l>
      <l n="170">Poore key‑cold figure of a holy King,</l>
      <l n="171">Pale Ashes of the House of Lancaster;</l>
      <l n="172">Thou bloodlesse Remnant of that Royall Blood,</l>
      <l n="173">Be it lawfull that I inuocate thy Ghost,</l>
      <l n="174">To heare the Lamentations of poore<hi rend="italic">Anne</hi>,</l>
      <l n="175">Wife to thy<hi rend="italic">Edward</hi>, to thy slaughtred Sonne,</l>
      <l n="176">Stab'd by the selfesame hand that made these wounds.</l>
      <l n="177">Loe, in these windowes that let forth thy life,</l>
      <l n="178">I powre the helplesse Balme of my poore eyes.</l>
      <l n="179">O cursed be the hand that made these holes:</l>
      <l n="180">Cursed the Heart, that had the heart to do it:</l>
      <l n="181">C<c rend="inverted">u</c>rsed the Blood, that let this blood from hence:</l>
      <l n="182">More direfull hap betide that hated Wretch</l>
      <l n="183">That makes vs wretched by the death of thee,</l>
      <l n="184">Then I can wish to Wolues, to Spiders, Toades,</l>
      <l n="185">Or any creeping venom'd thing that liues.</l>
      <l n="186">If euer he haue Childe, Abortiue be it,</l>
      <l n="187">Prodigeous, and vntimely brought to light,</l>
      <l n="188">Whose vgly and vnnaturall Aspect</l>
      <l n="189">May fright the hopefull Mother at the view,</l>
      <l n="190">And that be Heyre to his vnhappinesse.</l>
      <l n="191">If euer he haue Wife, let her be made</l>
      <l n="192">More miserable by the death of him,</l>
      <l n="193">Then I am made by my young Lord, and thee.</l>
      <l n="194">Come now towards Chertsey with your holy Lode,</l>
      <l n="195">Taken from Paules, to be interred there.</l>
      <l n="196">And still as you are weary of this waight,</l>
      <l n="197">Rest you, whiles I lament King<hi rend="italic">Henries</hi>Coarse.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Richard Duke of Gloster.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="198">Stay you that beare the Coarse, &amp; set it down.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="199">What blacke Magitian coniures vp this Fiend,</l>
      <l n="200">To stop deuoted charitable deeds?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="201">Villaines set downe the Coarse, or by<choice>
            <abbr>S.</abbr>
            <expan>Saint</expan>
         </choice>Paul,</l>
      <l n="202">Ile make a Coarse of him that disobeyes.</l>
   </sp>
   <pb facs="FFimg:axc0531-0.jpg" n="175"/>
   <cb n="1"/>
   <sp who="#F-r3-gen">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gen.</speaker>
      <l n="203">My Lord stand backe, and let the Coffin passe.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="204">Vnmanner'd Dogge,</l>
      <l n="205">Stand'st thou when I commaund:</l>
      <l n="206">Aduance thy Halbert higher then my brest,</l>
      <l n="207">Or by<choice>
            <abbr>S.</abbr>
            <expan>Saint</expan>
         </choice>Paul Ile strike thee to my Foote,</l>
      <l n="208">And spurne vpon thee Begger for thy boldnesse.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">Anne.</speaker>
      <l n="209">What do you tremble? are you all affraid?</l>
      <l n="210">Alas, I blame you not, for you are Mortall,</l>
      <l n="211">And Mortall eyes cannot endure the Diuell.</l>
      <l n="212">Auant thou dreadfull minister of Hell;</l>
      <l n="213">Thou had'st but power ouer his Mortall body,</l>
      <l n="214">His Soule thou canst not haue: Therefore be gone.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="215">Sweet Saint, for Charity, be not so curst.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="216">Foule Diuell,</l>
      <l n="217">For Gods sake hence, and trouble vs not,</l>
      <l n="218">For thou hast made the happy earth thy Hell:</l>
      <l n="219">Fill'd it with cursing cries, and deepe exclaimes:</l>
      <l n="220">If thou delight to view thy heynous deeds,</l>
      <l n="221">Behold this patterne of thy Butcheries.</l>
      <l n="222">Oh Gentlemen, see, see dead<hi rend="italic">Henries</hi>wounds,</l>
      <l n="223">Open their congeal'd mouthes, and bleed afresh.</l>
      <l n="224">Blush, blush, thou lumpe of fowle Deformitie:</l>
      <l n="225">For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood</l>
      <l n="226">From cold and empty Veines where no blood dwels.</l>
      <l n="227">Thy Deeds inhumane and vnnaturall,</l>
      <l n="228">Prouokes this Deluge most vnnaturall.</l>
      <l n="229">O God! which this Blood mad'st, reuenge his death:</l>
      <l n="230">O Earth! which this Blood drink'st, reuenge his death.</l>
      <l n="231">Either Heau'n with Lightning strike the murth'rer dead:</l>
      <l n="232">Or Earth gape open wide, and eate him quicke,</l>
      <l n="233">As thou dost swallow vp this good Kings blood,</l>
      <l n="234">Which his Hell‑gouern'd arme hath butchered.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="235">Lady, you know no Rules of Charity,</l>
      <l n="236">Which renders good for bad, Blessings for Curses.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="237">Villaine, thou know'st nor law of God nor Man,</l>
      <l n="238">No Beast so fierce, but knowes some touch of pitty.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="239">But I know none, and therefore am no Beast.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="240">O wonderfull, when diuels tell the truth!</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="241">More wonderfull, when Angels are so angry:</l>
      <l n="242">Vouchsafe (diuine perfection of a Woman)</l>
      <l n="243">Of these supposed Crimes, to giue me leaue</l>
      <l n="244">By circumstance, but to acquit my selfe.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="245">Vouchsafe (defus'd infection of man)</l>
      <l n="246">Of these knowne euils, but to giue me leaue</l>
      <l n="247">By circumstance, to curse thy cursed Selfe.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="248">Fairer then tongue can name thee, let me haue</l>
      <l n="249">Some patient leysure to excuse my selfe.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="250">Fouler then heart can thinke thee,</l>
      <l n="251">Thou can'st make no excuse currant,</l>
      <note resp="#ES">An ink mark follows the end of this line.</note>
      <l n="252">But to hang thy selfe.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="253">By such dispaire, I should accuse my selfe.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="254">And by dispairing shalt thou stand excused,</l>
      <l n="255">For doing worthy Vengeance on thy selfe,</l>
      <l n="256">That did'st vnworthy slaughter vpon others.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="257">Say that I slew them not.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="258">Then say they were not slaine:</l>
      <l n="259">But dead they are, and diuellish slaue by thee.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="260">I did not kill your Husband.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="261">Why then he is aliue.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="262">Nay, he is dead, and slaine by Edwards hands.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="263">In thy foule throat thou Ly'st,</l>
      <l n="264">Queene<hi rend="italic">Margaret</hi>saw</l>
      <l n="265">Thy murd'rous Faulchion smoaking in his blood:</l>
      <l n="266">The which, thou once didd'st bend against her brest,</l>
      <l n="267">But that thy Brothers beate aside the point.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="268">I was prouoked by her sland'rous tongue,</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="269">That laid their guilt, vpon my guiltlesse Shoulders.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="270">Thou was't prouoked by thy bloody minde,</l>
      <l n="271">That neuer dream'st on ought but Butcheries:</l>
      <l n="272">Did'st thou not kill this King?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="273">I graunt ye.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="274">Do'st grant me Hedge‑hogge,</l>
      <l n="275">Then God graunt me too</l>
      <l n="276">Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deede,</l>
      <l n="277">O he was gentle, milde, and vertuous.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="278">The better for the King of heauen that hath him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="279">He is in heauen, where thou shalt neuer come.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="280">Let him thanke me, that holpe to send him thi­
      <lb/>ther:</l>
      <l n="281">For he was fitter for that place then earth.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="282">And thou vnfit for any place, but hell.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="283">Yes one place else, if you will heare me name it.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="284">Some dungeon.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="285">Your Bed‑chamber.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="286">Ill rest betide the chamber where thou lyest.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="287">So will it Madam, till I lye with you.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="288">I hope so.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="289">I know so. But gentle Lady<hi rend="italic">Anne</hi>,</l>
      <l n="290">To leaue this keene encounter of our wittes,</l>
      <l n="291">And fall something into a slower method.</l>
      <l n="292">Is not the causer of the timelesse deaths</l>
      <l n="293">Of these<hi rend="italic">Plantagenets, Henrie</hi>and<hi rend="italic">Edward</hi>,</l>
      <l n="294">As blamefull as the Executioner.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="295">Thou was't the cause, and most accurst effect.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="296">Your beauty was the cause of that effect:</l>
      <l n="297">Your beauty, that did haunt me in my sleepe,</l>
      <l n="298">To vndertake the death of all the world,</l>
      <l n="299">So I might liue one houre in your sweet bosome.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="300">If I thought that, I tell thee Homicide,</l>
      <l n="301">These Nailes should rent that beauty from my Cheekes.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="302">These eyes could not endure y<c rend="superscript">t</c>beauties wrack,</l>
      <l n="303">You should not blemish it, if I stood by;</l>
      <l n="304">As all the world is cheared by the Sunne,</l>
      <l n="305">So I by that: It is my day, my life.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="306">Blacke night ore‑shade thy day, &amp; death thy life.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="307">Curse not thy selfe faire Creature,</l>
      <l n="308">Thou art both.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="309">I would I were, to be reueng'd on thee.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="310">It is a quarrell most vnnaturall,</l>
      <l n="311">To be reueng'd on him that loueth thee.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="312">It is a quarrell iust and reasonable,</l>
      <l n="313">To be reueng'd on him that kill'd my Husband.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="314">He that bereft the Lady of thy Husband,</l>
      <l n="315">Did it to helpe thee to a better Husband.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="316">His better doth not breath vpon the earth.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="317">He liues, that loues thee better then he could.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="318">Name him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="319">
         <hi rend="italic">Plantagenet</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="320">Why that was he.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="321">The selfesame name, but one of better Nature.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="322">Where is he?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="323">Heere:</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Spits at him.</stage>
      <l n="324">Why dost thou spit at me.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="325">Would it were mortall poyson, for thy sake.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="326">Neuer came poyson from so sweet a place.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="327">Neuer hung poyson on a fowler Toade.</l>
      <l n="328">Out of my sight, thou dost infect mine eyes.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="329">Thine eyes (sweet Lady) haue infected mine.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="330">Would they were Basiliskes, to strike thee dead.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="331">I would they were, that I might dye at once:</l>
      <l n="332">For now they kill me with a liuing death.</l>
      <l n="333">Those eyes of thine, from mine haue drawne salt Teares;</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0532-0.jpg" n="176"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="334">Sham'd their Aspects with store of childish drops:</l>
      <l n="335">These eyes, which neuer shed remorsefull teare,</l>
      <l n="336">No, when my Father Yorke, and<hi rend="italic">Edward</hi>wept,</l>
      <l n="337">To heare the pittious moane that Rutland made</l>
      <l n="338">When black‑fac'd<hi rend="italic">Clifford</hi>shooke his sword at him.</l>
      <l n="339">Nor when thy warlike Father like a Childe,</l>
      <l n="340">Told the sad storie of my Fathers death,</l>
      <l n="341">Aod twenty times, made pause to sob and weepe:</l>
      <l n="342">That all the standers by had wet their cheekes</l>
      <l n="343">Like Trees bedash'd with raine. In that sad time,</l>
      <l n="344">My manly eyes did scorne an humble teare:</l>
      <l n="345">And what these sorrowes could not thence exhale,</l>
      <l n="346">Thy Beauty hath, and made them blinde with weeping.</l>
      <l n="347">I neuer sued to Friend, nor Enemy:</l>
      <l n="348">My Tongue could neuer learne sweet smoothing word.</l>
      <l n="349">But now thy Beauty is propos'd my Fee,</l>
      <l n="350">My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speake.</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">She lookes scornfully at him.</stage>
      <l n="351">Teach not thy lip such Scorne; for it was made</l>
      <l n="352">For kissing Lady, not for such contempt.</l>
      <l n="353">If thy reuengefull heart cannot forgiue,</l>
      <l n="354">Loe heere I lend thee this sharpe‑pointed Sword,</l>
      <l n="355">Which if thou please to hide in this true brest,</l>
      <l n="356">And let the Soule forth that adoreth thee,</l>
      <l n="357">I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,</l>
      <l n="358">And humbly begge the death vpon my knee.</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">He layes his brest open, she offers at with his sword.</stage>
      <l n="359">Nay do not pause: For I did kill King<hi rend="italic">Henrie</hi>,</l>
      <l n="360">But 'twas thy Beauty that prouoked me.</l>
      <l n="361">Nay now dispatch: 'Twas I that stabb'd yong E<hi rend="italic">dward</hi>,</l>
      <l n="362">But 'twas thy Heauenly face that set me on.</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">She fals the Sword.</stage>
      <l n="363">Take vp the Sword againe, or take vp me.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="364">Arise Dissembler, though I wish thy death,</l>
      <l n="365">I will not be thy Executioner.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="366">Then bid me kill my selfe, and I will do it.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="367">I haue already.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="368">That was in thy rage:</l>
      <l n="369">Speake it againe, and euen with the word,</l>
      <l n="370">This hand, which for thy loue, did kill thy Loue,</l>
      <l n="371">Shall for thy loue, kill a farre truer Loue,</l>
      <l n="372">To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="373">I would I knew thy heart.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="374">'Tis figur'd in my tongue.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="375">I feare me, both are false.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="376">Then neuer Man was true.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="377">Well, well, put vp your Sword.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="378">Say then my Peace is made.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="379">That shalt thou know heereafter.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="380">But shall I liue in hope.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="381">All men I hope liue so.</l>
      <l n="382">Vouchsafe to weare this Ring.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="383">Looke how my Ring incompasseth thy Finger,</l>
      <l n="384">Euen so thy Brest incloseth my poore heart:</l>
      <l n="385">Weare both of them, for both of them are thine.</l>
      <l n="386">And if thy poore deuoted Seruant may</l>
      <l n="387">But beg one fauour at thy gracious hand,</l>
      <l n="388">Thou dost confirme his happinesse for euer.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="389">What is it?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="390">That it may please you leaue these sad designes,</l>
      <l n="391">To him that hath most cause to be a Mourner,</l>
      <l n="392">And presently repayre to Crosbie House:</l>
      <l n="393">Where (after I haue solemnly interr'd</l>
      <l n="394">At Chertsey Monast'ry this Noble King,</l>
      <l n="395">And wet this Graue with my Repentant Teares)</l>
      <l n="396">1 will with all expedient duty see you,</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="397">For diuers vnknowne Reasons, I beseech you,</l>
      <l n="398">Grant me this Boon.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="399">With all my heart, and much it ioyes me too,</l>
      <l n="400">To see you are become so penitent.</l>
      <l n="401">
         <hi rend="italic">Tressel</hi>and<hi rend="italic">Barkley</hi>, go along with me.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="402">Bid me farwell.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ann">
      <speaker rend="italic">An.</speaker>
      <l n="403">'Tis more then you deserue:</l>
      <l n="404">But since you teach me how to flatter you,</l>
      <l n="405">Imagine I haue saide farewell already.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit two with Anne.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r3-gen">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gent.</speaker>
      <l n="406">Towards Chertsey, Noble Lord<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-rch">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
      <l n="407">No: to White Friars, there attend my comming</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit Coarse</stage>
      <l n="408">Was euer woman in this humour woo'd?</l>
      <l n="409">Was euer woman in this humour wonne<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
      <l n="410">Ile haue her, but I will not keepe her long.</l>
      <l n="411">What? I that kill'd her Husband, and his Father,</l>
      <l n="412">To take her in her hearts extreamest hate,</l>
      <l n="413">With curses in her mouth, Teares in her eyes,</l>
      <l n="414">The bleeding witnesse of my hatred by,</l>
      <l n="415">Hauing God, her Conscience, and these bars against me,</l>
      <l n="416">And I, no Friends to backe my suite withall,</l>
      <l n="417">But the plaine Diuell, and dissembling lookes?</l>
      <l n="418">And yet to winne her? All the world to nothing.</l>
      <l n="419">Hah!</l>
      <l n="420">Hath she forgot alreadie that braue Prince,</l>
      <l n="421">
         <hi rend="italic">Edward</hi>, her Lord, whom I (some three monthes since)</l>
      <l n="422">Stab'd in my angry mood, at Tewkesbury?</l>
      <l n="423">A sweeter, and a louelier Gentleman,</l>
      <l n="424">Fram'd in the prodigallity of Nature:</l>
      <l n="425">Yong, Valiant, Wise, and (no doubt) right Royal,</l>
      <l n="426">The spacious World cannot againe affoord:</l>
      <l n="427">And will she yet abase her eyes on me,</l>
      <l n="428">That cropt the Golden prime of this sweet Prince,</l>
      <l n="429">And made her Widdow to a wofull Bed?</l>
      <l n="430">On me, whose All not equals<hi rend="italic">Edwards</hi>Moytie?</l>
      <l n="431">On me, that halts, and am mishapen thus?</l>
      <l n="432">My Dukedome, to a Beggerly denier!</l>
      <l n="433">I do mistake my person all this while:</l>
      <l n="434">Vpon my life she findes (although I cannot)</l>
      <l n="435">My selfe to be a maru'llous proper man.</l>
      <l n="436">Ile be at Charges for a Looking‑glasse,</l>
      <l n="437">And entertaine a score or two of Taylors,</l>
      <l n="438">To study fashions to adorne my body:</l>
      <l n="439">Since I am crept in fauour with my selfe,</l>
      <l n="440">I will maintaine it with some little cost.</l>
      <l n="441">But first Ile turne yon Fellow in his Graue,</l>
      <l n="442">And then returne lamenting to my Loue.</l>
      <l n="443">Shine out faire Sunne, till I haue bought a glasse,</l>
      <l n="444">That I may see my Shadow as I passe.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">exit.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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