Richard The 3rd Act 1, Scene 2 Flashcards
His soul thou canst not have. Therefore begone.
Sweet saint, for charity, be not so cursed.
Foul devil, for God’s sake, hence, and trouble us not, for thou has made the happy earth thy hell, filled it with cursings, cries, and deep exclaims.
Lady, you know no rules for charity, which renders good for bad, blessings for curses
No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity.
But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
Oh, wonderful, when Devils tell the truth!
More wonderful, when angels are so angry. Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman–
Vouchsafe, defused infection of a man–
Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made for kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
I did not kill your husband.
Why then, he is alive.
Nay, he is dead, and slain by Edward’s hands.
In thy foul throat thou liest. Queen Margaret saw.
I was provoked by her sland’ rous tongue,
That was provoked by the bloody mind, that may be damned for that wicked deed. Oh, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.
Let him thank me, that holp (past tense of help) to send him thither, for he was fitter for that place than earth.
And thou unfit for any place, but hell.
Some dungeon.
Yes, one place else, if thou would hear me name it
Your bedchamber.
(Your bed chamber)
Your beauty, that did haunt me in my sleep to undertake the death of all the world, so I might live one hour and your sweet bosom.
If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, these nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.
You should not blemish it, if I stood by.
It is my day, my life.
Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both.
I would I were, to be revenged on thee.
It is a quarrel most unnatural to be revenged on him that loveth thee.
It is a quarrel, just and reasonable to be revenge on him that killed my husband.
He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband did it to help thee to a better husband. He lives that loves thee better than he could.
Name him.
Would it were mortal poison for the thy sake.
Never hung poison on a fouler toad.
Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.
Here. Why dost thou spit at me?
Never came poison from so sweet a place.
Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.
Would they were basilisks’ to strike thee dead.
I would they were, that I might die at once,
If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,
LO, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword, which if thou please to hide in this true breast And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, I lay it naked to the deadly stroke And humbly beg the death upon my knee.
