Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

And, if I fail not in my deep intent,

Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, Clarence hath not another day to live :

Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, Which done, God take king Edward to his mercy, And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. And leave the world for me to bustle in !

[The bearers set down the coffin. For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter : Anne. What, do you tremble? are you all afraid > What, though I kill'd her husband, and her father? Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal, The readiest way to make the wench amends, And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil. Is — to become her husband, and her father : Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell! The which will I ; not all so much for love, Thou had'st but power over his mortal body, As for another secret close intent,

His soul thou canst not have ; therefore, be gone. By marrying her, which I must reach unto.

Glo. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. But yet I run before my horse to market :

Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives, and

trouble us not ; reigns;

For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, When they are gone, then must I count my gains. Fill'd it with cursing cries, and deep exclaims.

[Exit. If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,

Behold this pattern of thy butcheries : SCENE II.- The same. Another Street. O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds Enter the corpse of King Henry THE Sixth, borne Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity;

Open their congeal'd mouths, and bleed afresh! in an open coffin, Gentlemen bearing halberds, to

For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood guard it; and Lady Anne as mourner.

From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; Anne. Set down, set down your honourable Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural, load,

Provokes this deluge most unnatural. If honour may be shrouded in a hearse, –

O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death! Whilst I a while obsequiously lament

O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.

death! Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!

Either, heaven, with lightning strike the murderer Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!

dead, Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood ! Or, earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick; Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost,

As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood, To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,

Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered! Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son,

Glo. Lady, you know no rules of charity, Stabb’d by the self-same hand that made these Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. wounds!

Anne. Villain, thou know'st no law of God not Lo, in these windows, that let forth thy life,

man; I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes :

No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity. O, cursed be the hand, that made these holes !

Glo. But I know none, and therefore am no Cursed the heart, that had the heart to do it!

beast. Cursed the blood, that let this blood from hence ! Anne. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth! More direful hap betide that hated wretch,

Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so angry:That makes us wretched by the death of thee, Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,

Of these supposed evils, to give me leave, Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!

By circumstance, but to acquit myself. If ever he have child, abortive be it,

Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,

For these known evils, but to give me leave, Whose ugly and unnatural aspect

By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self. May fright the hopeful mother at the view;

Glo. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me And that be heir to his unhappiness !

have If ever he have wife, let her be made

Some patient leisure to excuse myself. More miserable by the death of him,

Anne. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou Than I am made by my young lord, and thee !

canst make Come, now, toward Chertsey with your holy load, No excuse current, but to hang thyself. Taken from Paul's to be interred there ;

Glo. By such despair, I should accuse myself. And, still as you are weary of the weight,

Anne. And, by despairing, shalt thou stand Rest you, whiles I lament king Henry's corse.

excus'd ;
[The bearers take up the corpse, and advance. For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,

That didst unworthy slaughter upon others.
Enter GLOSTER.

Glo. Say, that I slew them not?
Gi. Stay you, that bear the corse, and set it Anne.

Why then, they are not dead : down.

But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee. Anne. What black magician conjures up this Glo. I did not kill your husband. fiend,

Anne.

Why, then he is alive. To stop devoted charitable deeds ?

Glo. Nay, he is dead ; and slain by Edward's Glo. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul,

hand. I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.

Anne. In thy soul's throat thou liest ; queen 1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin

Margaret saw pass.

Thy murderous faulchion smoking in his blood ; Gl. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou when I com- The which thou once didst bend against her breast, mand :

But that thy brothers beat aside the point.

come.

Glo. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue, Anne. Never lung poison on a fouler toad. That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. Out of my sight! thou dost infect mine eyes.

Anne. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind, Glo. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. That never dreamt on aught but butcheries :

Anne. 'Would they were basilisks, to strike thee Didst thou not kill this king ?

dead! Glo.

I grant ye.

Glo. I would they were, that I might die at once ; Anne. Dost grant me, hedge-hog? then, God For now they kill me with a living death. grant me too,

Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deed! Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops : O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous.

These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear, Glo. The fitter for the King of heaven that hath Not, when my father York and Edward wept, him.

To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made, Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at him :

Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, Glo. Let him thank me, that holp to send him Told the sad story of my father's death ; thither;

And twenty times made pause, to sob, and weep, For he was fitter for that place, than earth.

That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks, Anne. And thou unfit for any place, but hell. Like trees bedash'd with rain : in that sad time, Glo. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear ; name it.

And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, Anne. Some dungeon.

Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping Glo.

Your bea-chamber. I never su'd to friend, nor enemy; Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou My tongue could never learn sweet soothing word; liest!

But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee, Glo. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to Anne. I hope so.

speak. (She looks scornfully at him. Glo. I know so. — But, gentle lady Anne, Teach not thy lips such scorn ; for it was made To leave this keen encounter of our wits,

For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
And fall somewhat into a slower method ; - If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,
Is not the causer of the timeless deaths

Lo! here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; Of these Plantagenets, Henry, and Edward, Which if thou please to hide in this true breast, As blameful as the executioner?

And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, Anne. Thou wast the cause, and most accurs'd | I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, effect.

And humbly beg the death upon my knee. Glo. Your beauty was the cause of that effect ;

[He lays his breast open ; she offers at it with Your beauty, which did haunt me in my sleep,

his sword. To undertake the death of all the world,

Nay, do not pause ; for I did kill king Henry; — So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me.

Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, Nay, now despatch ; 'twas I that stabb’d young EdThese nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.

ward :

[She again offers at his breast. Glo. These eyes could not endure that beauty's But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. wreck,

[She lets fall the sword. You should not blemish it, if I stood by :

Take up the sword again, or take up me. As all the world is cheered by the sun,

Anne. Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death, So I by that ; it is my day, my life.

I will not be thy executioner. Anne. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death Glo. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. thy life!

Anne. I have already. Glo. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art Glo.

That was in thy rage : both.

Speak it again, and even with the word, Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee. This hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, Glo. It is a quarrel most unnatural,

Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love; To be reveng'd on him that loveth thee.

To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. Anne. It is a quarrel just and reasonable,

Anne. I would, I knew thy heart. To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband. Glo.

'Tis figur'd in Glo. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband, My tongue. Did it to help thee to a better husband.

Anne. I fear

me,

both are false. Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the Glo.

Then man earth.

Was never true. Glo. He lives, that loves you better than he could.

Anne.

Well, well, put up your sword. Anne. Name him.

Glo. Say then, niy peace is made.
Glo.
Plantagenet.

Anne.

That shall you know Anne.

Why, that was he. Hereafter.
Glo. The self-same name, but one of better Glo. But shall I live in hope ?

Anne.
Anne. Where is he?

I hope, live so.
Glo.
Here: (She spits at him.]. Why Glo.

Vouchsafe to wear this ring. dost thou spit at me?

Anne. To take, is not to give. (She puts on the ring. Anne. 'Would it were mortal poison, for thy Gl). Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, sake!

Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; Glo. Never came poison from so sweet a place. Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.

nature.

All men,

- amen.

And if thy poor devoted servant may

Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse : But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,

Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.

And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. Anne. What is it?

Q. Eliz. If he were dead, what would betide of ine? Glo. That it may please you leave these sad designs Grey. No other harm, but loss of such a lord. To hiin that hath more cause to be a mourner,

Q. Eliz. The loss of such a lord includes all harins. And presently repair to Crosby-place :

Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with a goolly Where - after I have solemnly interr’d,

son, At Chertsey monast'ry, this noble king,

To be your comforter, when lie is gone. And wet his grave with my repentant tears, -- Q. Eliz. Ah, he is young; and his minority I will with all expedient duty see you :

Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloster, For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you,

A man that loves not me, nor none of you. Grant me this boon.

Riv. Is it concluded, he shall be protector? Anne. With all my heart; and much it joys me too,

Q. Eliz. It is determin’d, not concluded yet : To see you are become so penitent.

But so it must be, if the king miscarry.
Tressel, and Berkley, go along with me.

Enter BUCKINGHAM and STANLEY.
Glo. Bid me farewell.
Anne.

'Tis more than

you

deserve : Grey. Here come the lords of Buckingham and But, since you teach me how to flatter you,

Stanley. Imagine I have said farewell already.

Buck. Good time of day unto your royal grace! [Ereunt Lady ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKLEY. Slan. God make your majesty joyful as you have Glo. Take up the corse, sirs.

been! Gent.

Towards Chertsey, noble lord ? Q. Eliz. The countess Richmond, good my lord Glo. No, to White-Friars; there attend my coming.

of Stanley, [Exeunt the rest, with the corse. To your good prayer will scarcely say Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ?

Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife, Was ever woman in this humour won ?

And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd, I'll have her, — but I will not keep her long. I hate not you for her proud arrogance. What! I, that kill'd her husband, and his father, Stan. I do beseech you, either not believe To take her in her heart's extremest hate;

The envious slanders of her false accusers; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,

Or, if she be accus'd on true report, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ;

Bear with her weakness, which, I think, proceeds With God, her conscience, and these bars against me, From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. And I no friends to back my suit withal,

Q. Eliz. Saw you the king to-dav, my lord of But the plain devil, and dissembling looks,

Stanley ? And yet to win her, — all the world to nothing ! Stan. But now, the duke of Buckingham, and I, Ha!

Are come from visiting his majesty. Hath she forgot already that brave prince,

Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment, lords? Edward, her lord, whom I some three months since, Buck. Madam, good hope ;

his

grace speaks Stabb’d in my angry mood at Tewksbury ?

cheerfully. A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,

Q. Eliz. God grant him health ! did you confer Fram'd in the prodigality of nature,

with him? Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal, - Buck. Ay, madam : he desires to make atonement The spacious world cannot again afford :

Between the duke of Gloster and your brothers, And will she yet abase her eyes on me,

And between them and my lord chamberlain; That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince, And sent to warn them to his royal presence. And made her widow to a woful bed ?

Q. Eliz. 'Would all were well! — but that will On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety ?

never be ; On me, that halt, and am mis-shapen thus ?

I fear our happiness is at the height. My dukedom to a beggarly denier,

Enler GLOSTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET. I do mistake my person all this while : Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot,

Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure Myself to be a marvellous proper man. I'll be at charges for a looking-glass ;

Who are they, that complain unto the king, And entertain a score or two of tailors,

That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not ? To study fashions to adorn my body :

By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly, Since I am crept in favour with myself,

That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours. I will maintain it with some little cost.

Because I cannot flatter, and speak fair, But, first, I'll turn yon' fellow in his grave;

Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, And then return lamenting to my love.

Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,
Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,

I must be held a rancorous enemy.
That I may see my shadow as I pass. (Exit. Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm,

But thus his simple truth must be abus'd
SCENE III.- The same. A Room in the Palace. | By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

Grey. To whom in all this presence speaks your Enter Queen ELIZABETH, Lord Rivers, and LORD Grey.

Glo. To thee, that hast nor honesty, nor grace. Riv. Have patience, madam ; there's no doubt, When Irave I injured thee? when done thee wrong?his majesty

Or thee ? — or thee?- or any of your faction? Will soon recover his accustom'd health.

A plague upon you all! His royal grace,

it :

grace?

matter:

Whom God preserve better than you would wish! Q. Mur. Out, devil! I remember them too well. Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while,

Thou kill’dst my husband Henry in the Tower, But you must trouble him with lewd complaints. And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. Q. Elix. Brother of Gloster, you mistake the GL). Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband

king, The king, of his own royal disposition,

I was a pack-horse in his great affairs ; And not provok'd by any suitor else ;

A weeder-out of his proud adversaries, Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,

A liberal rewarder of his friends; That in your outward action shows itseli,

To royalize his blood, I spilt mine own. Against my children, brothers, and myself,

Q. Mar. Ay, and much better blood than his, o Makes him to send ; that thereby he may gather

thine. The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it.

Gio. In all which time, you, and your husband Glo. I cannot tell;— The world is grown so bad,

Grey,
That wrens may prey where eagles dare not perch: Were factious for the house of Lancaster ;-
Since every Jack became a gentleman,

And, Rivers, so were you : Was not your husband There's many a gentle person made a Jack.

In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain? Q. Eliz. Come, come, we know your meaning, Let me put in your minds, if you forget, brother Gloster ;

What

you

have been ere now, and what you are ; You envy my advancement, and my friends ; Withal, what I have been, and what I am. God grant, we never may have need of you !

Q. Mar. A murd'rous villain, and so still thou art. Glo. Meantime, God grants that we have need of Glo. Poor Claience did forsake his father Warwick, you :

Ay, and forswore himself, -- Which Jesu pardon! Our brother is imprison'd by your means,

Q. Mar. Which God revenge! Myself disgrac'd, and the nobility

Glo. To fight on Edward's party, for the crown; Held in contempt; while great promotions

And, for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up : Are daily given, to ennoble those

I would to God, my heart were flint like Edward's, That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble. Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine; Q. Eliz. By Him, that rais’d me to this careful I am too childish-foolish for this world. height

Q. Mar. Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,

this world, I never did incense his majesty

Thou cacodæmon! there thy kingdom is. Against the duke of Clarence, but have been

Riv. My lord of Gloster, in those busy days, An earnest advocate to plead for him.

Which here you uige, to prove us enemies, My lord, you do me shameful injury,

We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king; Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects.

So should we you, if you should be our king. Glo. You may deny that you were not the cause Glo. If I should be ? - I had rather be a pedlar: Of my lord Hastings' late imprisonment.

Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof! Riv. She may, my lord; for

Q. Eliz. As little joy, my lord, as you suppose Glo. She may, lord Rivers ?-- why, who knows You should enjoy, were you this country's king; not so?

As little joy you may suppose in me, She may do more, sir, than denying that :

That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. She may help you to many fair preferinents ;

Q. Mar. A little joy enjoys the queen thereof ! And then deny her aiding hand therein,

For I am she, and altogether joyless. And lay those honours on your high desert.

I can no longer hold me patient. (Alvancing What may she not? She may, — ay, marry, may Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out she,

In sharing that which you have pillid from me : Riv. What, marry, may she?

Which of you trembles not, that looks on me ? Glo. What, marry, may she? marry with a king, If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects ; A bachelor, a handsome stripling too :

Yet that, by you depos’d, you quake like rebels? I wis, your grandam had a worser match.

Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away! Q. Eliz. My lord of Gloster, I have too long Glo. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in borne

my sight? Your blunt upbraidings, and your bitter scoffs : Q. Mar. But repetition of what thou hast marr’d; By heaven, I will acquaint bis majesty,

That will I make, before I let thee go. Of those gross taunts I often have endur'd.

Glo. Wert thou not banished on pain of death ? I had rather be a country servant-maid,

Q. Mar. I was; but I do find more pain in banishThan a great queen, with this condition

ment, To be so baited, scorn'd, and storm'd at :

Than death can yield me here by my abode. Small joy have I in being England's queen. A husband, and a son, thou ow'st to me, –

And thou, a kingdom ; - all of you, allegiance : Enter QUEEN MARGARET, behind.

This sorrow that I have, by right is yours ; Q. Mar. And lessen'd be that small, God, I be- And all the pleasures you usurp, are mine. seech thee!

Glo. The curse my noble father laid on thee, Thy honour, state, and seat, is due to me.

When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper, Glo. What? threat you me with telling of the And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes ; king?

And then, to dry them, gav'st the duke a clout, Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have said Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland ;I will avouch, in presence of the king :

His curses, then from bitterness of soul I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower.

Denounc'd against thee, are all fallen upon thee ; "Tis time to speak, my pains are quite forgot. And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed.

Oo

Q. Eliz. So just is God, to right the innocent. Q. Mar. Poor painted queen, vain Aourish of Hast. O, 'twas the foulest deed, to slay that

my fortune! babe,

Why strew'st thou sugar on that bouled spider, And the most merciless, that e'er was heard of. Whose deadly web ensnareth thee atsout? Riv. Tyrants themselves wept when it was re- Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. ported.

The day will come, that thou shalt wish for me Dors. No man but prophecy'd revenge for it. To help thee curse this pois'nous bunch-back'd toad. Buck. Northumberland, then present, wept to see Hast. False-boding woman, end thy frantick it.

curse; Q. Mar. What! were you snarling all, before I | Lest, to thy harm, thou move our patience. came,

Q. Mar. Foul shame upon you! you have all Ready to catch each other by the throat,

mov'd mine. And turn you all your hatred now on me?

Riv. Were you well serv'd, you would be taught Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven,

your duty. That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, Q. Mar. To serve me well, you all should do me Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment,

duty, Could all but answer for that peevish brat ? Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects : Can curses pierce the clouds, and enter heaven? O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty. Why, then give way, dull clouds, to my quick Dor. Dispute not with her, she is lunatick. curses!

Q. Mar. Peace, master marquis, you are malapert : Though not by war, by surfeit die your king! Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current: As ours by murder, to make him a king!

O, that your young nobility could judge, Edward, thy son, that now is prince of Wales, What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable ! For Edward, my son, that was prince of Wales, They that stand high, have many blasts to shake Die in his youth, by like untimely violence !

them; Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen,

And, if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self!

Glo. Good counsel, marry ; learn it, learn it, Long may'st thou live, to wail thy children's loss ;

marquis. And see another, as I see thee now,

Dor. It touches you, my lord, as much as me. Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall’d in mine! Glo. Ay, and much more : But I was born so Long die thy happy days before thy death ;

high, And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief,

Our aiery buildeth in the cedar's top, Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen! And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun. Rivers, and Dorset, you were standers by, Q. Mar. And turns the sun to shade;

- alas! And so wast thou, lord Hastings, when my son

alas! Was stabb’d with bloody daggers: God, I pray him, Witness my son, now in the shade of death : That none of you may live your natural age, Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath But by some unlook'd accident cut off!

Hath in eternal darkness folded up. Glo. Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd Your aiery buildeth in our aiery's nest : hag.

O God, that see'st it, do not sufier it; Q. Mar. And leave out thee ? stay, dog, for thou As it was won with blood, lost be it so ! shalt hear me.

Buck. Peace, peace, for shame, if not for charity. If heaven have any grievous plague in store,

Q. Mar. Urge neither charity nor shame to me; Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, Uncharitably with me have you dealt, 0, let them keep it, till thy sins be ripe,

And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd. And then hurl down their indignation

My charity is outrage, life my shame, – On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace! And in my shame still live my sorrow's rage! The worm of conscience still be-gnaw thy soul ! Buck. Have done, have done. Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st. Q. Mar. O princely Buckingham, I kiss thy hand, And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends! In sign of league and amity with thee : No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,

Now fair befal thee, and thy noble house ! Unless it be while some tormenting dream

Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils !

Nor thou within the compass of my curse. Thou elvish-mark’d, abortive, rooting hog!

Buck. Nor no one here ; for curses never pass Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity

The lips of those that breathe them in the air. The slave of nature, and the son of hell!

Q. Mar. I'll not believe but they ascend the sky, Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb !

And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins !

O Buckingham, beware of yonder dog ; Thou rag of honour! thou detested

Look, when he fawns, he bites; and, when he bitcs, Gio. Margaret.

His venom tooth will rankle to the death :
Q. Mar.
Richard !

Have not to do with him, beware of him ;
Glo.

Ha ?

Sin, death, and hell, have set their marks on him ; Q. Mar.

I call thee not. And all their ministers attend on him. Glo. I cry thee mercy then ; for I did think, Glo. What doth she say, my lord of Buckingham? That thou had'st call'd me all these bitter names. Buck. Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord.

Q. Mar. Why, so I did ; but look'd for no reply. Q. Mar. What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle 0, let me make the period to my curse.

counsel ? Glo. 'Tis done by me; and ends in — Margaret. And sooth the devil that I warn thee from? Q. Eliz.

Thus have you breath'd your curse O, but remember this another day, against yourself.

"Vhen he shall split thy very heart with sorrow;

« AnteriorContinuar »