If sorrow can admit society, [Sitting down with them. Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine :I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him; I had a husband, till a Richard kill'd him: Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him: Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard kill'd him. Duch. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him ; I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him. From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept Q. Mar. Bear with me, I am hungry for revenge, And now I cloy me with beholding it. Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward; Thy Clarence he is dead, that stabb'd my Edward; The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, * Companion. Thrown in to boot. And send them thither: But at hand, at hand, Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray, That I may live to say, the dog is dead! Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophecy, the time would come, That I should wish for thee to help me curse I call'd thee then, poor shadow, painted queen; The flattering index* of a direful pageant, Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers? Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee? Having no more but thought of what thou wert, * Indexes were anciently placed at the beginning of books, + Flaring. To torture thee the more, being what thou art. Now thy proud neck bears half my burden'd yoke; 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. Mur. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the day; Compare dead happiness with living woe; Q. Eliz. My words are dull, O, quicken them with thine! Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce like mine. [Exit Q. Mar. Duch. Why should calamity be full of words? Q. Eliz. Windy attorneys to their client woes, Airy succeeders of intestate joys, Poor breathing orators of miseries! 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 Enter King Richard, and his train, marching. From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done. Q. Eliz. Hid'st thou that forehead 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 Clarence? And little Ned Plantagenet, his son? Q. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Duch. Where is kind Hastings? K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets!-strike alarum, drums! Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women Either be patient, and entreat me fair, K. Rich. Ay; I thank God, my father, and your- Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience. That cannot brook the accent of reproof. Duch. O, let me speak. K. Rich. Do, then; but I'll not hear. 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 well, * Owned. + Disposition. Cross. Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell. Thy school-days, frightful, desperate, wild, and furious; Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and ven turous; 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. 'Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that call'd your grace To breakfast once, forth of my company. Duch. madam.— I pr'ythee, hear me speak. K. Rich. You speak too bitterly. Hear me a word; For I shall never speak to thee again. K. Rich. So. Duch. Either thou wilt die, by God's just ordi nance, Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror; Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish, Therefore, take with thee my most heavy curse; And promise them success and victory. [Exit. Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse. * Touchy, fretful. |