[He kneels and lays his breast open; she offers at it with his sword.]
Nay, do not pause, for I did kill King Henry—
But ’twas thy beauty that provoked me.
Nay, now dispatch; ’twas I that stabbed young Edward—
But ’twas thy heavenly face that set me on.
[She falls the sword.]
Take up the sword again, or take up me.
ANNE.
Arise, dissembler. Though I wish thy death,
I will not be thy executioner.
RICHARD.
Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.
ANNE.
I have already.
RICHARD.
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.
RICHARD.
’Tis figured in my tongue.