King Richard III | Page 6

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!
GLOSTER. Lady, you know no rules of charity, Which renders good
for bad, blessings for curses.
ANNE. Villain, thou knowest nor law of God nor man: No beast so
fierce but knows some touch of pity.
GLOSTER. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
ANNE. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!

GLOSTER. More wonderful when angels are so angry.-- Vouchsafe,
divine perfection of a woman, Of these supposed crimes to give me
leave, By circumstance, but to acquit myself.
ANNE. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man, Of these known evils
but to give me leave, By circumstance, to accuse thy cursed self.
GLOSTER. 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.
GLOSTER. 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.
GLOSTER. Say that I slew them not?
ANNE. Then say they were not slain: But dead they are, and, devilish
slave, by thee.
GLOSTER. I did not kill your husband.
ANNE. Why, then he is alive.
GLOSTER. Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand.
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.
GLOSTER. I was provoked by her slanderous tongue That laid their
guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.
ANNE. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind, That never dreamt on
aught but butcheries: Didst thou not kill this king?
GLOSTER. I grant ye.
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.
GLOSTER. The better for the king of Heaven, that hath him.
ANNE. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.
GLOSTER. 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.
GLOSTER. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.
ANNE. Some dungeon.
GLOSTER. Your bed-chamber.
ANNE. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest!

GLOSTER. So will it, madam, till I lie with you.
ANNE. I hope so.
GLOSTER. 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?
ANNE. Thou wast the cause and most accurs'd effect.
GLOSTER. 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.
ANNE. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, These nails should rend
that beauty from my cheeks.
GLOSTER. These eyes could not endure that 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.
ANNE. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life!
GLOSTER. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both.
ANNE. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee.
GLOSTER. It is a quarrel most unnatural, To be reveng'd on him that
loveth thee.
ANNE. It is a quarrel just and reasonable, To be reveng'd on him that
kill'd my husband.
GLOSTER. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband, Did it to help
thee to a better husband.
ANNE. His better doth not breathe upon the earth.
GLOSTER. He lives that loves thee better than he could.
ANNE. Name him.
GLOSTER. Plantagenet.
ANNE. Why, that was he.
GLOSTER. The self-same name, but one of better nature.
ANNE. Where is he?
GLOSTER. Here.
[She spits at him.]
Why dost thou spit at me?
ANNE. Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake!
GLOSTER. Never came poison from so sweet a place.
ANNE. Never hung poison on a fouler toad. Out of my sight! thou dost

infect mine eyes.
GLOSTER. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.
ANNE. Would they were basilisks to strike thee dead!
GLOSTER. 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, Sham'd