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DioLiu
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Test3

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GLOUCESTER:
By such despair, I should accuse myself.
LADY ANNE:
And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused;
For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,
Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others.
GLOUCESTER:
Say that I slew them not?
LADY ANNE:
Why, then they are not dead:
But dead they are, and devilish slave, by thee.
GLOUCESTER:
I did not kill your husband.
LADY ANNE:
Why, then he is alive.
GLOUCESTER:
Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand.
LADY 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.
GLOUCESTER:
I was provoked by her slanderous tongue,
which laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.
LADY ANNE:
Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind.
Which never dreamt on aught but butcheries:
Didst thou not kill this king?
GLOUCESTER:
I grant ye.
LADY 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!
GLOUCESTER:
The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him.
LADY ANNE:
He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.
GLOUCESTER:
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.
GLOUCESTER:
Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.
LADY ANNE:
Some dungeon.
GLOUCESTER:
Your bed-chamber.
LADY ANNE:
I'll rest betide the chamber where thou liest!
GLOUCESTER:
So will it, madam till I lie with you.
LADY ANNE:
I hope so.
GLOUCESTER:
I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne,
To leave this keen encounter of our wits,
And fall somewhat 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 art the cause, and most accursed effect.
GLOUCESTER:
Your beauty was the cause of that effect;
Your beauty: which 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.