The Illustrated Works of Shakespeare/Illustrated Works of Shakespeare, The (1990)(Animated Pixels)[!][CDTV-PC].iso/shakes/text/03/01_02

Text File | 1991-04-10 | 13KB | 386 lines

London. Another Street.
 Enter the corpse of HENRY THE SIXTH, with HALBERDS to guard it,
 borne in an open coffin by GENTLEMEN;
 LADY ANNE being the mourner, attended by TRESSEL and BERKELEY.

Lady Anne    Set down, set down your honourable load,
    - If honour may be shrouded in a hearse-
    Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament
    Th' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
                                 [The GENTLEMEN set down the coffin.
    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 slaughtered son,
    Stabbed 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.
    O, cursd be the hand that made these holes!
    Cursd the heart that had the heart to do it!
    Cursd 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 venomed 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
    More miserable by the death of him
    Than I am made by my young lord and thee.
    Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load,
    Taken from Paul's to be interrd there.
                     [The GENTLEMEN take up the coffin and advance.

    And still, as you are weary of this weight,
    Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse.

                              Enter RICHARD.

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

Lady Anne    What black magician conjures up this fiend
    To stop devoted charitable deeds?

Richard    Villains, set down the corse, or by Saint Paul
    I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.

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

Richard    Unmannered 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.
                                 [The GENTLEMEN set down the coffin.

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.

Richard    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,
    Filled 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 congealed 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 mad'st, revenge his death!
    O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his death!
    Either heav'n with lightning strike the murd'rer dead,
    Or earth gape open wide and eat him quick,
    As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood
    Which his hell-governed arm hath butcherd.

Richard    Lady, you know no rules of charity,
    Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.

Lady Anne    Villain, thou know'st nor law of God nor man.
    No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.

Richard    But I know none, and therefore am no beast.

Lady Anne    O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!

Richard    More wonderful, when angels are so angry.
    Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,
    Of these supposd crimes to give me leave
    By circumstance but to acquit myself.

Lady Anne    Vouchsafe, diffused infection of a man,
    Of these known evils but to give me leave
    By circumstance t' accuse thy cursd self.

Richard    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.

Richard    By such despair I should accuse myself.

Lady Anne    And by despairing shalt thou stand excused
    For doing worthy vengeance on thyself
    That didst unworthy slaughter upon others.

Richard    Say that I slew them not?

Lady Anne                                Then say they were not slain:
    But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.

Richard    I did not kill your husband.

Lady Anne                                    Why, then he is alive.

Richard    Nay, he is dead, and slain by Edward's hands.

Lady Anne    In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw
    Thy murd'rous falchion smoking in his blood,
    The which thou once didst bend against her breast
    But that thy brothers beat aside the point.

Richard    I was provokd by her sland'rous tongue,
    That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.

Lady Anne    Thou wast provokd by thy bloody mind,
    That never dream'st on aught but butcheries.
    Didst thou not kill this king?

Richard                                    I grant ye, yea.

Lady Anne    Dost grant me, hedgehog! Then God grant me too
    Thou mayst be damnd for that wicked deed.
    O he was gentle, mild, and virtuous.

Richard    The better for the King of heaven that hath him.

Lady Anne    He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.

Richard    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.

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

Lady Anne    Some dungeon?

Richard    Your bedchamber.

Lady Anne    Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest.

Richard    So will it, madam, till I lie with you.

Lady Anne    I hope so.

Richard    I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne,
    To leave this keen encounter of our wits
    And fall something into a slower method:
    Is not the causer of the timeless deaths
    Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward,
    As blameful as the executioner?

Lady Anne    Thou wast the cause and most accursed effect.

Richard    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 your sweet bosom.

Lady Anne    If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
    These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.

Richard    These eyes could not endure that beauty's wrack;
    You should not blemish it if I stood by.
    As all the world is cheerd by the sun,
    So I by that; it is my day, my life.

Lady Anne    Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life!

Richard    Curse not thyself, fair creature: thou art both.

Lady Anne    I would I were, to be revenged on thee.

Richard    It is a quarrel most unnatural
    To be revenged on him that loveth thee.

Lady Anne    It is a quarrel just and reasonable
    To be revenged on him that killed my husband.

Richard    He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband
    Did it to help thee to a better husband.

Lady Anne    His better doth not breathe upon the earth.

Richard    He lives that loves thee better than he could.

Lady Anne    Name him.

Richard                Plantagenet.

Lady Anne                                Why, that was he.

Richard    The selfsame name, but one of better nature.

Lady Anne    Where is he?

Richard                    Here.
                                                        [Spits at him.

                            Why dost thou spit at me?

Lady Anne    Would it were mortal poison for thy sake!

Richard    Never came poison from so sweet a place.

Lady Anne    Never hung poison on a fouler toad.
    Out of my sight: thou dost infect mine eyes.

Richard    Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.

Lady Anne    Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead.

Richard    I 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 aspects 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 bedashed 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 word;
    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 lip such scorn; for it was 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 breast
    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 provokd me.
    Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabbed young Edward-
    But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on.
                                                        [She falls the sword.
    Take up the sword again, or take up me.

Lady Anne    Arise, dissembler; though I wish thy death,
    I will not be thy executioner.

Richard    Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.

Lady Anne    I have already.

Richard                        That was in thy rage;
    Speak it again, and even with the word
    This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love,
    Shall for thy love kill a far truer love:
    To both their deaths shalt thou be accessory.

Lady Anne    I would I knew thy heart.

Richard    'Tis figured in my tongue.

Lady Anne    I fear me both are false.

Richard    Then never was man true.

Lady Anne    Well, well, put up your sword.

Richard    Say then my peace is made.

Lady Anne    That shalt thou know hereafter.

Richard    But shall I live in hope?

Lady Anne    All men, I hope, live so.

Richard    Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

Lady Anne    To take is not to give.
                                                        [She wears the ring.

Richard    Look how my 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 servant may
    But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
    Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.

Lady Anne    What is it?

Richard    That it may please you leave these sad designs
    To him that hath most cause to be a mourner,
    And presently repair to Crosby House,
    Where, after I have solemnly interred
    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.

Lady Anne    With all my heart; and much it joys me too
    To see you are become so penitent.
    Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.

Richard    Bid me farewell.

Lady Anne                            'Tis more than you deserve;
    But since you teach me how to flatter you,
    Imagine I have said farewell already.
                         [Exeunt TRESSEL and BERKELEY with LADY ANNE.

Richard    Sirs, take up the corse.

Gentleman                                Towards Chertsey, noble lord?

Richard    No, to Whitefriars; there attend my coming.
                                                [Exeunt all but RICHARD.
    Was ever woman in this humour wooed?
    Was ever woman in this humour won?
    I'll have her, but I will not keep her long.
    What, I that killed 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 my hatred by,
    Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me,
    And I no friends 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
    Stabbed in my angry mood at Tewkesbury?
    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 abase her eyes on me,
    That cropped 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 halts and am misshapen 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 marv'llous proper man.
    I'll be at charges for a looking-glass,
    And entertain a 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.