RICHARD: Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.
ANNE: Would they were basilisks to strike thee dead.
RICHARD: I would they were, that I might die at once,
For now they kill me with a living death.
Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears,
Shamed their aspects with store of childish drops
These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear-- [. . .]
And what these sorrows could not thence exhale
Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
I never sued to friend, nor enemy;
My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word.
But now they beauty is proposed my fee,
My proud heart sues and prompts my tongue to speak.
Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made
For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
If they 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.