LADY ANNE
Never hung poison on a fouler toad. Out of my sight! thou dost infect my eyes. GLOUCESTER
Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. LADY ANNE
Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead! GLOUCESTER
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 aspect with store of childish drops: These eyes that 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 bedash'd 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 lips such scorn, for they were 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 bosom. 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 provoked me. Nay, now dispatch; 'twas
I that stabb'd young Edward, But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on.
Here she lets fall the sword
Take up the sword again, or take up me. LADY ANNE
Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death, I will not be the executioner. GLOUCESTER
Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. LADY ANNE
I have already. GLOUCESTER
Tush, that was in thy rage: Speak it again, and, even with the word, That hand, which, for thy love, did kill
thy love, Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love; To both their deaths thou shalt be accessary.
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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