William Shakespeare - King Richard the Third

HASTINGS

More pity that the eagle should be mew'd,

While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.

GLOUCESTER

What news abroad?

HASTINGS

No news so bad abroad as this at home;

The King is sickly, weak and melancholy,And his physicians fear him mightily.

GLOUCESTER

Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed.

O, he hath kept an evil diet long,And overmuch consumed his royal person:'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.What, is he in his bed?

HASTINGS

He is.

GLOUCESTER

Go you before, and I will follow you.

Exit HASTINGS

He cannot live, I hope; and must not die

Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven.I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments;And, if I fall not in my deep intent,Clarence hath not another day to live:Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,And leave the world for me to bustle in!For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.What though I kill'd her husband and her father?The readiest way to make the wench amendsIs to become her husband and her father:The which will I; not all so much for loveAs for another secret close intent,By marrying her which I must reach unto.But yet I run before my horse to market:Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns:When they are gone, then must I count my gains.

Exit

The same. Another street.

Enter the corpse of KING HENRY the Sixth, Gentlemen with halberds to guard it; LADY ANNE being the mourner

LADY ANNE

Set down, set down your honourable load,

If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,Whilst I awhile obsequiously lamentThe 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 aspectMay fright the hopeful mother at the view;And that be heir to his unhappiness!If ever he have wife, let her he madeA miserable by the death of himAs 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.

Enter GLOUCESTER

GLOUCESTER

Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.

LADY ANNE

What black magician conjures up this fiend,

To stop devoted charitable deeds?

GLOUCESTER

Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul,

I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.

Gentleman

My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.

GLOUCESTER

Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command:

Advance thy halbert higher than my breast,Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot,And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.

LADY 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.

GLOUCESTER

Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.

LADY ANNE

Foul 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 woundsOpen their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh!Blush, Blush, thou lump of foul deformity;For 'tis thy presence that exhales this bloodFrom 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 themurderer dead,Or earth, gape open wide and eat him quick,As thou dost swallow up this good king's bloodWhich his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered!

GLOUCESTER

Lady, you know no rules of charity,

Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.

LADY ANNE

Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor man:

No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.

GLOUCESTER

But I know none, and therefore am no beast.

LADY ANNE

O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!

GLOUCESTER

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.

LADY ANNE

Vouchsafe, defused infection of a man,

For these known evils, but to give me leave,By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self.

GLOUCESTER

Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have

Some patient leisure to excuse myself.

LADY ANNE

Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make

No excuse current, but to hang thyself.

GLOUCESTER

By such despair, I should accuse myself.

LADY ANNE

And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused;

For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others.

GLOUCESTER

Say that I slew them not?

LADY ANNE

Why, then they are not dead:

But dead they are, and devilish slave, by thee.

GLOUCESTER

I did not kill your husband.

LADY ANNE

Why, then he is alive.

GLOUCESTER

Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand.

LADY ANNE

In 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.

GLOUCESTER

I was provoked by her slanderous tongue,

which laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.

LADY ANNE

Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind.

Which never dreamt on aught but butcheries:Didst thou not kill this king?

GLOUCESTER

I grant ye.

LADY ANNE

Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too

Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed!O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous!

GLOUCESTER

The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him.

LADY ANNE

He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.

GLOUCESTER

Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither;

For he was fitter for that place than earth.

LADY ANNE

And thou unfit for any place but hell.

GLOUCESTER

Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.

LADY ANNE

Some dungeon.

GLOUCESTER

Your bed-chamber.

LADY ANNE

Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest!

GLOUCESTER

So will it, madam till I lie with you.

LADY ANNE

I hope so.

GLOUCESTER

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 deathsOf these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward,As blameful as the executioner?

LADY ANNE

Thou art the cause, and most accursed effect.

GLOUCESTER

Your beauty was the cause of that effect;

Your beauty: which did haunt me in my sleepTo undertake the death of all the world,So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom.