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Duch. So many miseries have craz'd my voice, That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute,— Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?

Q. Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet, Edward for Edward pays a dying debt.

Q. Eliz. Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle
lambs,

And throw them in the entrails of the wolf?
When didst thou sleep when such a deed was done?1
Q. Mar. When holy Harry died, and my sweet
[come,
Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophecy, the time would
That I should wish for thee to help me curse
That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad.

son.

Q. Mar. I call'd thee then, vain flourish of my fortune;

I call'd thee then, poor shadow, painted queen ;
The presentation of but what I was,

The flattering index of a direful pageant,
One heav'd a high, to be hurl'd down below:
A mother only mock'd with two fair babes;
A dream of what thou wast; a garish flag,
To be the aim of every dangerous shot;
A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble;
A queen in jest, only to fill the scene.

Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers?
Where be thy two sons? wherein dost thou joy?
Who sues, and kneels, and says-God save the queen?
Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee?
Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee?
Decline all this, and see what now thou art.
For happy wife, a most distressed widow;
For joyful mother, one that wails the name;
For one being sued to, one that humbly sues;
For
queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care:

'When, before the present occasion, didst thou ever sleep during the commission of such an action?

2 Run through all this from first to last.

For one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me;
For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one;
For one commanding all, obey'd of none.
Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about,
And left thee but a very prey to time;
Having no more but thought of what thou wert,
To torture thee the more, being what thou art.
Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not
Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow?
Now thy proud neck bears half my burden'd yoke;
From which even here I slip my wearied head,
And leave the burden of it all on thee.

Farewell, York's wife, and queen of sad mischance,-
These English woes shall make me smile in France.
Q. Eliz. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay a while,
And teach me how to curse mine enemies.

Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the Compare dead happiness with living woe; [day; Think that thy babes were fairer than they were, And he, that slew them, fouler than he is: Bettering thy loss makes the bad-causer worse; Revolving this will teach thee how to curse.

Q. Eliz. My words are dull, O, quicken them with thine!

Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce like mine. [Exit Queen MARGARET. Duch. Why should calamity be full of words? Q. Eliz. Let them have scope: though what they do impart

.

Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart.

Duch. If so, then be not tongue-ty'd: go with me,
And in the breath of bitter words let's smother
My [dread] son, that thy two sweet sons smother'd.
[Drum, within.
I hear his drum,-be copious in exclaims.

Enter King RICHARD, and his train, marching.
K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedition?
Duch. O, she, that might have intercepted thee,

By strangling thee in her accursed womb,
From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou has done.
Q. Eliz. Hid'st thou that forhead with a golden

crown,

Where should be branded, if that right were right, The slaughter of the prince that ow'd' that crown, And the dire death of my poor sons, and brothers? Tell me, thou villain-slave, where are my children? Duch. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother And little Ned Plantagenet, his son? [Clarence?

Q. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Duch. Where is kind Hastings?

[Grey? K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets!-strike alarum,

drums!

Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women
Rail on the Lord's anointed: Strike, I say.-

[Flourish. Alarums

Either be patient, and entreat me fair,
Or with the clamorous report of war
Thus will I drown your exclamations.
Duch. Art thou my son?

K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your condition," That cannot brook the accent of reproof.

Duch. O, let me speak.

K. Rich.

Do, then; but I'll not hear.

Duch. I will be mild and gentle in my words. K. Rich. And brief, good mother; for I am in haste. Duch. Art thou so hasty? I have staid for thee, God knows, in torment and in agony.

K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you? Duch. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well, Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell. A grievous burden was thy birth to me; Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;

[ous;

Thy school-days, frightful, desperate, wild, and furiThy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and venturous;

'i. e. owned. 2 A spice of your temper.

3 i. e. peevish.

Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody,
More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred:
What comfortable hour canst thou name,

That ever grac'd me in thy company?

K. Rich. If I be so disgracious in your sight, Let me march on, and not offend you, madam.Strike up the drum.

Duch.

I pr'ythee, hear me speak.

K. Rich. You speak too bitterly.
Duch.

Hear me a word;

For I shall never speak to thee again.

K. Rich. So.

Duch. Either thou wilt die, by God's just ordinance, Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror;

Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish,
And never look upon thy face again.

Therefore, take with thee my most heavy curse;
Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more,
Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st!
My prayers on the adverse party fight;
And there the little souls of Edward's children
Whisper the spirits of thine enemies,

And promise them success and victory.
Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end;

Shame serves' thy life, and doth thy death attend.

[Exit. Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit

to curse

Abides in me; I say amen to her.

[Going. K. Rich. Stay, madam, I must speak a word with

you.

Q. Eliz. I have no more sons of the royal blood, For thee to murder: for my daughters, Richard,They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens; And therefore level not to hit their lives.

K. Rich. You have a daughter call'd-Elizabeth, Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.

1i. e. accompanies.

Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? O, let her live,
So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter,
I will confess she was not Edward's daughter.

K. Rich. Wrong not her birth she is of royal blood.
Q. Eliz. To save her life, I'll say-she is not so.
K. Rich. Her life is safest only in her birth.

Q. Eliz. And only in that safety died her brothers.
K. Rich. You speak, as if that I had slain my

cousins.'

Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle cozen'd
Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.
Whose hands soever lanc'd their tender hearts,
Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction:

No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt
Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart,
To revel in the entrails of my lambs.

K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise,
And dangerous success of bloody wars,

As I intend more good to you and yours,
Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd!

Q. Eliz. What good is cover'd with the face of To be discovered, that can do me good?

[heaven, K. Rich. Th' advancement of your children, gentle

lady.

Q. Eliz. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their

heads?

K. Rich. No, to the dignity and height of fortune, The high imperial type of this earth's glory.

Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrows with report of it; Tell me, what state, what dignity, what honour, Canst thou demise2 to any child of mine?

K. Rich. Even all I have; ay, and myself and all, Will I withal endow a child of thine:

So in the Lethe of thy angry soul

Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs, Which, thou supposest, I have done to thee.

cousins, again, for nephews.

• i. e. grant.

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