ARKCODEX
Act I, Scene 2
1The same. Another street.
2Enter the corpse of King Henry the Sixth, Gentlemen with halberds to guard it; Lady Anne being the mourner.
3AnneSet down, set down your honourable load,
If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,
Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament
The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!
Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!
Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost,
To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,
Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter’d son,
Stabb’d by the selfsame hand that made these wounds!
Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life,
I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.
Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes!
Cursed be the heart that had the heart to do it!
Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence!
More direful hap betide that hated wretch,
That makes us wretched by the death of thee,
Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,
Or any creeping venom’d thing that lives!
If ever he have child, abortive be it,
Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,
Whose ugly and unnatural aspect
May fright the hopeful mother at the view;
And that be heir to his unhappiness!
If ever he have wife, let her be made
As miserable by the death of him
As I am made by my poor lord and thee!
Come, now towards 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.
4Enter Gloucester.
5GloucesterStay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.
6AnneWhat black magician conjures up this fiend,
To stop devoted charitable deeds?
7GloucesterVillains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul,
I’ll make a corse of him that disobeys.
8GentlemanMy lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.
9GloucesterUnmanner’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.
10AnneWhat, 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.
11GloucesterSweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.
12AnneFoul devil, for God’s sake, hence, and trouble us not;
For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,
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 madest, revenge his death!
O earth, which this blood drink’st revenge his death!
Either heaven with lightning strike the murderer dead,
Or earth, gape open wide and eat him quick,
As thou dost swallow up this good king’s blood,
Which his hell-govern’d arm hath butchered!
13GloucesterLady, you know no rules of charity,
Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
14AnneVillain, thou know’st no law of God nor man:
No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.
15GloucesterBut I know none, and therefore am no beast.
16AnneO wonderful, when devils tell the truth!
17GloucesterMore 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.
18AnneVouchsafe, defused infection of a man,
For these known evils, but to give me leave,
By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self.
19GloucesterFairer than tongue can name thee, let me have
Some patient leisure to excuse myself.
20AnneFouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make
No excuse current, but to hang thyself.
21GloucesterBy such despair, I should accuse myself.
22AnneAnd, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused;
For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,
Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others.
23GloucesterSay that I slew them not?
24AnneWhy, then they are not dead:
But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.
25GloucesterI did not kill your husband.
26AnneWhy, then he is alive.
27GloucesterNay, he is dead; and slain by Edward’s hand.
28AnneIn thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw
Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood;
The which thou once didst bend against her breast,
But that thy brothers beat aside the point.
29GloucesterI was provoked by her slanderous tongue,
Which laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.
30AnneThou wast provoked by thy bloody mind,
Which never dreamt on aught but butcheries:
Didst thou not kill this king?
31GloucesterI grant ye.
32AnneDost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too
Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed!
O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous!
33GloucesterThe fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him.
34AnneHe is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.
35GloucesterLet him thank me, that holp to send him thither;
For he was fitter for that place than earth.
36AnneAnd thou unfit for any place but hell.
37GloucesterYes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.
38AnneSome dungeon.
39GloucesterYour bed-chamber.
40AnneIll rest betide the chamber where thou liest!
41GloucesterSo will it, madam till I lie with you.
42AnneI hope so.
43GloucesterI 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?
44AnneThou art the cause, and most accursed effect.
45GloucesterYour 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.
46AnneIf I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.
47GloucesterThese eyes could never endure sweet beauty’s wreck;
You should not blemish it, if I stood by:
As all the world is cheered by the sun,
So I by that; it is my day, my life.
48AnneBlack night o’ershade thy day, and death thy life!
49GloucesterCurse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both.
50AnneI would I were, to be revenged on thee.
51GloucesterIt is a quarrel most unnatural,
To be revenged on him that loveth you.
52AnneIt is a quarrel just and reasonable,
To be revenged on him that slew my husband.
53GloucesterHe that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,
Did it to help thee to a better husband.
54AnneHis better doth not breathe upon the earth.
55GloucesterHe lives that loves thee better than he could.
56AnneName him.
57GloucesterPlantagenet.
58AnneWhy, that was he.
59GloucesterThe selfsame name, but one of better nature.
60AnneWhere is he?
61GloucesterHere. She spitteth at him. Why dost thou spit at me?
62AnneWould it were mortal poison, for thy sake!
63GloucesterNever came poison from so sweet a place.
64AnneNever hung poison on a fouler toad.
Out of my sight! thou dost infect my eyes.
65GloucesterThine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.
66AnneWould they were basilisks, to strike thee dead!
67GloucesterI 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,
Shamed their aspect with store of childish drops:
These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear,
No, when my father York and Edward wept,
To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made
When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him;
Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,
Told the sad story of my father’s death,
And twenty times made pause to sob and weep,
That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks,
Like trees bedash’d with rain: in that sad time
My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;
And what these sorrows could not thence exhale,
Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
I never sued to friend nor enemy;
My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing words;
But, now thy beauty is proposed my fee,
My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. She looks scornfully at him.
Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were made
For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,
Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword;
Which if thou please to hide in this true bosom,
And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,
I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,
And humbly beg the death upon my knee. He lays his breast open: she offers at it with his sword.
Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry,
But ’twas thy beauty that provoked me.
Nay, now dispatch; ’twas I that stabb’d young Edward,
But ’twas thy heavenly face that set me on. Here she lets fall the sword.
Take up the sword again, or take up me.
68AnneArise, dissembler: though I wish thy death,
I will not be the executioner.
69GloucesterThen bid me kill myself, and I will do it.
70AnneI have already.
71GloucesterTush, that was in thy rage:
Speak it again, and, even with the word,
That hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love,
Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love;
To both their deaths thou shalt be accessary.
72AnneI would I knew thy heart.
73Gloucester’Tis figured in my tongue.
74AnneI fear me both are false.
75GloucesterThen never man was true.
76AnneWell, well, put up your sword.
77GloucesterSay, then, my peace is made.
78AnneThat shall you know hereafter.
79GloucesterBut shall I live in hope?
80AnneAll men, I hope, live so.
81GloucesterVouchsafe to wear this ring.
82AnneTo take is not to give.
83GloucesterLook, how this ring encompasseth thy finger,
Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart;
Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
And if thy poor devoted suppliant may
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.
84AnneWhat is it?
85GloucesterThat it would please thee leave these sad designs
To him that hath more cause to be a mourner,
And presently repair to Crosby Place;
Where, after I have solemnly interr’d
At Chertsey monastery this noble king,
And wet his grave with my repentant tears,
I will with all expedient duty see you:
For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you,
Grant me this boon.
86AnneWith all my heart; and much it joys me too,
To see you are become so penitent.
Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.
87GloucesterBid me farewell.
88Anne’Tis more than you deserve;
But since you teach me how to flatter you,
Imagine I have said farewell already. Exeunt Lady Anne, Tressel, and Berkeley.
89GloucesterSirs, take up the corse.
90GentlemanTowards Chertsey, noble lord?
91GloucesterNo, to White-Friars; there attend my coming. Exeunt all but Gloucester.
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 kill’d her husband and his father,
To take her in her heart’s extremest hate,
With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,
The bleeding witness of her hatred by;
Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me,
And I nothing to back my suit at all,
But the plain devil and dissembling looks,
And yet to win her, all the world to nothing!
Ha!
Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since,
Stabb’d in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,
Framed in the prodigality of nature,
Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal,
The spacious world cannot again afford:
And will she yet debase her eyes on me,
That cropp’d the golden prime of this sweet prince,
And made her widow to a woeful bed?
On me, whose all not equals Edward’s moiety?
On me, that halt and am unshapen thus?
My dukedom to a beggarly denier,
I do mistake my person all this while:
Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot,
Myself to be a marvellous proper man.
I’ll be at charges for a looking-glass,
And entertain some score or two of tailors,
To study fashions to adorn my body:
Since I am crept in favour with myself,
I will maintain it with some little cost.
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 see my shadow as I pass. Exit.