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With Henry's life, with my lov'd lord's, young Ed-
ward's,
And here let out thy own, to appease their ghosts.
Glost. By such despair I should accuse myself.
Lady A. Why by despairing only canst thou stand
excus'd
Didst thou not kill the king?
Glost. I grant ye.
Lady A. Oh! he was gentle, loving, mild, and
virtuous;
But he's in heaven, where thou canst never come.
Glost. Was I not kind, to send him thither, then
He was much fitter for that place than earth.
Lady A. And thou unfit for any place, but hell.
Glost. Yes, one place else—if you will hear me
malne 11.
Lady A. Some dungeon.
Glost. Your bedchamber.
Lady A. Ill rest betide the chamber, where thou
liest.
Glost. So it will, madam, till I lie in yours.
Lady A. I hope so.
Glost. I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne,
To leave this keen encounter of our tongues,
And fall to something a more serious method,
Is not the causer of the untimely deaths,
Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward,
As blameful as the executioner *
Lady A. Thou wert the cause, and most accurs'd
effect.
Glost. Your beauty was the cause of that effect,
Your beauty! that did haunt me in my sleep,
To undertake the death of all the world,
So I might live one hour in that soft bosom?
Lady A. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
These hands should rend that beauty from my
cheeks.

Glost. These eyes could not endure that beauty's wreck; You should not blemish it, if I stood by : As all the world is nourish’d by the sun, So I by that—it is my day, my life Lady A. I would it were, to be reveng'd on thee. Glost. It is a quarrel most unnatural, To wish revenge on him that loves thee. Lady A. Say rather 'tis my duty, To seek revenge on him, that kill'd my husband. Glost. Fair creature, he, that kill'd thy husband, Did it to help thee to a better husband. Lady A. His better does not breathe upon the

earth; Glost. He lives, that loves thee better than he could. Lady A. Name him. *

Glost. Plantagenet. Lady A. Why, that was he. Glost. The self-same name, but one of softer nature. Lady A. Where is he Glost. Ah, take more pity in thy eyes, and see him ——here Lady A. would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead Glost. I would they were, that I might die at once, For now they kill me with a living death: Darting with cruel aim despair and love; I never su'd to friend or enemy ; My tongue could never learn soft smoothing words; But, now thy beauty is propos'd my fee, My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. Lady A. Is there a tongue on earth, can speak for thee Why dost thou court my hate D

Glost. Oh, teach not thy soft lips such cold contempt If thy relentless heart cannot forgive, Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword, Which, if thou please to hide in this true breast, And let the honest soul out, that adores thee! I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, And humbly beg that death, upon my knee. Lady A. What shall I say, or do direct me, Heav'n When stones weep, sure the tears are natural; And Heav'n itself instructs us to forgive, When they do flow from a sincere repentance. [Aside. Glost. Nay, do not pause, for I did kill King Henry, But, 'twas thy wondrous beauty did provoke me; Or, now dispatch—'twas I that stabb'd young Edward, But, 'twas thy heav'nly face that set me on: And I might still persist, (so stubborn is My temper) to rejoice at what I've done— But that thy powerful eyes (as roaring seas Obey the changes of the moon) have turn'd My heart, and made it flow with penitence. [She drops the Sword. Take up the sword again, or take up me. Lady A. No, though I wish thy death, I will not be thy executioner. Glost. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. Lady A. I have, already. Glost. That was in thy rage; Say it again, and even with thy word, This guilty hand, that robb'd thee of thy love, Shall, for thy love, revenge thee on thy lover: To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. What not a word, to pardon, or condemn me ! But thou art wise, and canst, with silence, kill me;

Yet, even in death, my fleeting soul pursues thee;
Dash not the tears of penitence away-–
I ask but leave to indulge my cold despair.
Lady A. Wouldst thou not blame me, to forgive
thy crimes
Glost. They are not to be forgiven; no, not even
Penitence can atone them—Oh, misery
Of thought, that strikes me with, at once, repent-
ance
And despair!—though unpardon'd, yield me pity,
Lady A. 'Would I knew thy heart!
Glost. "Tis figur'd in my tongue.
Lady A. I fear me, both are false.
Glost. Then never man was true !
Lady A. Put up thy sword.
Glost. Say, then, my peace is made.
Lady A. That shalt thou know hereafter.
Glost. But, shall I live in hope?
Lady A. All men, I hope, live so.
Glost. I swear, bright saint, I am not what I was
Those eyes have turn'd my stubborn heart to wo-
man;
Thy goodness makes me soft in penitence,
And my harsh thoughts are turn'd to peace and love.
Oh! if thy poor, devoted servant might
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Thou wouldst confirm his happiness for ever !
Lady A. What is't?
Glost. That it may please thee, leave these sad de-
Signs, -
To him, that has most cause to be a mourner,
And, presently, repair to Crosby House ;
Where, after I have solemnly interr'd,
At Chertsey Monastery this injur'd 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 favour.

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