Clarence hath not another day to live: Which done, God take king Edward to his mercy, For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter: By marrying her, which I must reach unto. Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives, and reigns; When they are gone, then must I count my gains. SCENE II.-The same. Another street. [Exit. Enter the corpse of King HENRY the Sixth, borne in an open coffin, Gentlemen bearing halberds, to guard it ; and Lady ANNE as mourner. Anne. Set down, set down your honourable load, The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.- Lo, in these windows, that let forth thy life, Or any creeping venom'd thing, that lives! May fright the hopeful mother at the view; If ever he have wife, let her be made Than I am made by my young lord, and thee!- And, still as you are weary of the weight, [The bearers take up the corpse, and advance. Enter GLOSter. Glo. Stay you, that bear the corse, and set it down. Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend, To stop devoted charitable deeds? Glo. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, I'll make a corse of him, that disobeys. 1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. Glo. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I com mand: Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, [The bearers set down the coffin. Anne. What, do you tremble? are you all afraid? For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, Provokes this deluge most unnatural. O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death! Or, earth, gape open wide, and eat him quick; Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered! Of these supposed evils, to give me leave, Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self. Glo. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have Some patient leisure to excuse myself. Anne. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make No excuse current, but to hang thyself. Glo. By such despair I should accuse myself. Anne. And by despairing shalt thou stand excus'd; For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, That didst unworthy slaughter upon others. Glo. Say, that I slew them not? Anne. Why then, they are not dead: But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee. Anne. Why, then he is alive. Glo. Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. Anne. In thy soul's throat thou liest; queen Marga ret saw Thy murderous faulchion smoking in his blood; The which thou once didst bend against her breast, Glo. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue, Glo. I grant ye. Anne. Dost grant me, hedge-hog? then, God grant me too, Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deed! O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous. Glo. The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him.. Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. Glo. Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither; For he was fitter for that place, than earth. Anne. And thou unfit for any place but hell. Glo. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. Anne. Some dungeon. Glo. Your bed-chamber. Anne. Ill rest betide the chamber, where thou liest! Glo. So will it, madam, till I lie with you. 'Anne. I hope so. Glo. I know so.-But, gentle lady Anne,- |