King Richard III

Enter corpse of KING HENRY THE SIXTH, with halberds to guard it;LADY ANNE being the mourner, attended by TRESSEL and BERKELEYANNE.

Set down, set down your honourable loadIf honour may be shrouded in a hearse;Whilst I awhile obsequiously lamentTh' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.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 ghostTo hear the lamentations of poor Anne,Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son,Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these wounds.Lo, in these windows that let forth thy lifeI pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.O, cursed be the hand that made these holes!Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it!Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence!More direful hap betide that hated wretchThat makes us wretched by the death of theeThan I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!If ever he have child, abortive be it,Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,Whose ugly and unnatural aspectMay fright the hopeful mother at the view,And that be heir to his unhappiness!If ever he have wife, let her be madeMore miserable by the death of himThan I am made by my young lord and thee!Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load,Taken from Paul's to be interred there;8And still as you are weary of this weightRest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse.[The bearers take up the coffin]Enter GLOUCESTERGLOUCESTER.

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

What black magician conjures up this fiendTo stop devoted charitable deeds?GLOUCESTER.

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

My lord, stand back, and let the coffinpass.GLOUCESTER.

Unmannerd dog! Stand thou, when I command.Advance thy halberd higher than my breast,Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my footAnd spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.[The bearers set down the coffin]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