I'll be at charges for a looking-glass; That I may see my grave; [Exit. SCENE III. A Room in the Palace. Enter Queen ELIZABETH, Lord RIVERS, and Lord GREY. Riv. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt, his majesty Will soon recover his accustom'd health. Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse: Therefore, for heaven's sake, entertain good comfort, And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. Q. Eliz. If he were dead, what would betide of me? Grey. No other harm but loss of such a lord. harms. Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son, To be your comforter, when he is gone. Q. Eliz. Ah, he is young; and his minority Q. Eliz. It is determin'd, not concluded yet: But so it must be if the king miscarry. Enter BUCKINGHAM and STANLEY. Grey. Here come the lords of Buckingham and Stanley. Buck. Good time of day unto your royal grace! Stan. Heaven make your majesty joyful as you have been ! Q. Eliz. The countess Richmond, good my lord of Stanley, To your good prayer will scarcely say — amen. Stan. I do beseech you, either not believe Bear with her weakness, which, I think, proceeds From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. Q. Eliz. Saw you the king to-day, my lord of Stanley? Stan. But now, the duke of Buckingham, and I, Are come from visiting his majesty. Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment, lords? Buck. Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully. Q. Eliz. God grant him health! Did you confer with him? Buck. Ay, madam, he desires to make atonement Between the duke of Gloster and your brothers, And between them, and my lord chamberlain ; And sent to warn them to his royal presence. Q. Eliz. 'Would all were well! But that will never be ; - I fear, our happiness is at the height. Enter GLOSTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET. Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not en- Who are they, that complain unto the king, Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm, Grey. To whom in all this presence speaks your grace? Glo. To thee, that hast nor honesty, nor grace. When have I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong? Or thee? or thee?. or any of your faction? A plague upon you all! His royal grace, matter: The king, of his own royal disposition, Glo. I cannot tell; - The world is grown so bad, That wrens may prey where eagles dare not perch. Since every Jack became a gentleman, There's many a gentle person made a Jack. 9 Low fellow. Q. Eliz. Come, come, we know your meaning, You envy my advancement, and my friends; Our brother is imprison'd by your means, Held in contempt; while great promotions That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble '.. Q. Eliz. By Him, that rais'd me to this careful From that contented hap which I enjoy'd, Against the duke of Clarence, but have been An earnest advocate to plead for him. My lord, you do me shameful injury, Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. Glo. You may deny that you were not the cause Of my lord Hastings' late imprisonment. Glo. She may, lord Rivers? not so? why, who knows She may do more, sir, than denying that: And lay those honours on your high desert. she. Riv. What, marry, may she? Glo. What, marry, may she? marry with a king, A bachelor, a handsome stripling too : I wis, your grandam had a worser match. Q. Eliz. My lord of Gloster, I have too long borne A coin rated at 6s. 8d. 2 Think. D 3 Your blunt upbraidings, and your bitter scoffs: Enter Queen MARGARET, behind. Q. Mar. And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee! Thy honour, state, and seat, is due to me. Glo. What? threat you me with telling of the king? Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have said I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower. Q. Mar. Out, devil! I remember them too well: Thou kill'dst my husband Henry in the Tower, And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. Glo. Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband king, I was a pack-horse in his great affairs; To royalize his blood, I spilt mine own. Q. Mar. Ay, and much better blood than his, or thine. Glo. In all which time, you, and your Grey, Were factious for the house of Lancaster; husband And, Rivers, so were you: Was not your husband In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain? |