ANNE.
Name him.

GLOSTER.
Plantagenet.

ANNE.
Why, that was he.

GLOSTER.
The self-same name, but one of better nature.

ANNE.
Where is he?

GLOSTER.
Here.

[She spits at him.]

Why dost thou spit at me?

ANNE.
Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake!

GLOSTER.
Never came poison from so sweet a place.

ANNE.
Never hung poison on a fouler toad.