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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.

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.

Take up the sword again, or take up me.

Anne. Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death,

I will not be thy executioner.

Rich. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.

Anne. I have already.

Rich. That was in thy rage:

Speak it again, and, even with the word,

This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love,

Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love:

To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary.

Anne. I would I knew thy heart.

Rich. 'Tis figur'd in my tongue.

Anne. I fear me both are false.

Rich. Then never man was true.

Anne. Well, well, put up your sword.

Rich. Say, then, my peace is made.

Anne. That shalt thou know hereafter.

Rich. But shall I live in hope?

Anne. All men, I hope, live so.

[Rich.] Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

[Anne. To take is not to give.]

 183 S.d. falls: lets fall

194 figur'd: portrayed

