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GLOUCESTER:
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These eyes could never endure sweet beauty's wreck;
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You should not blemish it, if I stood by:
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As all the world is cheered by the sun,
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So I by that; it is my day, my life.
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LADY ANNE:
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Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life!
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GLOUCESTER:
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Curse not thyself, fair creature thou art both.
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LADY ANNE:
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I would I were, to be revenged on thee.
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GLOUCESTER:
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It is a quarrel most unnatural,
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To be revenged on him that loveth you.
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LADY ANNE:
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It is a quarrel just and reasonable,
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To be revenged on him that slew my husband.
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GLOUCESTER:
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He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,
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Did it to help thee to a better husband.
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LADY ANNE:
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His better doth not breathe upon the earth.
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GLOUCESTER:
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He lives that loves thee better than he could.
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LADY ANNE:
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Name him.
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GLOUCESTER:
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Plantagenet.
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LADY ANNE:
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Why, that was he.
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GLOUCESTER:
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The selfsame name, but one of better nature.
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LADY ANNE:
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Where is he?
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GLOUCESTER:
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Here.
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Why dost thou spit at me?
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LADY ANNE:
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Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake!
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GLOUCESTER:
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Never came poison from so sweet a place.
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LADY ANNE:
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Never hung poison on a fouler toad.
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Out of my sight! thou dost infect my eyes.
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GLOUCESTER:
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Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.
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LADY ANNE:
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Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead!
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GLOUCESTER:
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I would they were, that I might die at once;
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For now they kill me with a living death.
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Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears,
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Shamed their aspect with store of childish drops:
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These eyes that never shed remorseful tear,
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No, when my father York and Edward wept,
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To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made
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When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him;
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Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,
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Told the sad story of my father's death,
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And twenty times made pause to sob and weep,
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That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks
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Like trees bedash'd with rain: in that sad time
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My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;
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And what these sorrows could not thence exhale,
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Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
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I never sued to friend nor enemy;
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My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word;
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But now thy beauty is proposed my fee,
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My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak.
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Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were made
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For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
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If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,
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Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword;
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Which if thou please to hide in this true bosom.
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And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,
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I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,
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And humbly beg the death upon my knee.
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Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry,
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But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me.
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Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward,
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