He should, for that, commit your godfather's. Glo. Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return,
o, belike, his majesty hath some intent,

Simple, plain Clarence! - I do love thee so,
That you shall be new christen'd in the Tower. That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven,
But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know? If heaven will take the present at our hands.

Clar. Yea, Richard, when I know; for, I protest, But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings?
As yet I do not: but, as I can learn,

Enter HASTINGS.
He hearkens after prophecies, and dreams,

Ilast. Good time of day unto my gracious lord !
And from the cross-row plucks the letter G, Glo. As much unto my good lord chamberlain !
And says—a wizard told him, that by G

Well are you welcome to this open air.
His issue disinherited should be;

How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?
And, for my name of George begins with G, Hast. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must:
It follows in his thought, that I am he.

But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks,
These, as I learn, and such like toys as these, That were the cause of my imprisonment.
Have mov'd his highness to commit me now. Glo. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too;

Glo. Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by women : For they, that were your enemies, are his,
'Tis not the king, that sends you to the Tower; And have prevail'd as much on him, as you.
My lady Grey, his wife, Clarence, 'tis she,

Ilast. More pity, that the eagle should be mew'd,
That tempers him to this extremity.

While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.
Was it not she, and that good man of worship, Glo. What news abroad?
Antony Woodeville, her brother there,

Hast. No news so bad abroad, as this at home;-
That made him send lord Hastings to the Tower, The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy,
From whence this present day he is deliver'd ? And his physicians fear him mightily:
We are not safe, Clarence, we are not safe.

Glo. Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed.
Clar. By heaven, I think, there is no man secure, 0, he hath kept an evil diet long,
But the queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds, And over-much consum'd his royal person;
That trudge betwixt the king and mistress Shore. 'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.
Heard you not, what an humble suppliant

What, is he in his bed ?
Lord Hastings was to her for his delivery?

Ilast. He is.
Glo. Humbly complaining to her deity,

Glo. Go you before, and I will follow you.
Got
my
lord chamberlain his liberty.

[Exit Hastings. I'll tell you what, - I think, it is our way,

He cannot live, I hope ; and must not die,
If we will keep in favour with the king,

Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven.
To be her men, and wear her hivery.

Pll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
The jealous o'erworn widow, and herself,

With lies well steeld with weighty arguments ;
Since that our brother dubb’d them gentlewomen, And, if I fail not in my deep intent,
Are mighty gossips in this monarchy.

Clarence hath not another day to live:
Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon me: Which done, God take king Edward to his mercy,
His majesty hath straitly given in charge,

And leave the world for me to bustle in !
That no man shall have private conference, For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter:
Of what degree soever, with his brother.

What though I kill'd her husband, and her father?
Glo. Even so ? an please your worship, Brakenbury, The readiest way to make the weneh amends,
You may partake of any thing we say.

Is — to become her husband, and her father :
We speak no treason, man! We say, the king The which will J; not al} so much for love,
Is wise, and virtuous; and his noble queen

As for another secret close intent,
Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous : By marrying her, which I must reach unto,
We say, that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot, But yet I run before my horse to market:
A cherry lip,

Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives, and reigns;
A bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongne:

When they are gone, then must I count my gains. And the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks.

(Exit. How say you, sir ? can you deny all this?

SCENE IT. The same. Another Street.
Brak. With this, my lord, myself have nought to do. Enter the corpse of King Henry the Sixth, borne in
Glo. Nought to do with mistress Sliore? I tell thee, an open coffin, Gentlemen bearing halberds, to
fellow,

guard it; and Lady Anne as mourner.
He that doth naught with her, excepting one, Anne, Set down, set down your honourable load,
Were best to do it secretly, alone.

If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,
Brak. What one, my lord ?

Whilst I a while obsequiously lament
Glo.Her husband, knave: — would'st thou betray me? The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
Brak.Ibeseech your grace to pardon me; and, withal, Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!
Forbear your conference with the noble duke. Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster !
Clar.We knowthy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
Glo. We are the queen's abjects, and must obey. Be it lawful, that I invocate thy ghost,
Brother, farewell! I will unto the king;

To bear the lamentations of poor Anne,
And whatsoe'er you will employ me in,-

Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son,
Werc it to call king Edward's widow - sister, Stabb'd by the self-same land, that made these
I will perform it to enfranchise you.

wounds!
Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood, Lo, in these windows, that let forth thy life,
Touches me deeper, than you can imagine,

I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes :-
Clar. I know, it pleaseth neither of us well. o, cursed be the hand, that made these holes !
Glo. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long; Cursed the heart, that had the heart to do it!
I will deliver you, or else lie for you:

Cursed the blood, that let this blood from hence !
Mean time have patience!

More direful hap betide that hated wretch,
Clar. I must perforce ; farewell!

That makes us wretched by the death of thec, [Exeunt Clarence, Brakenbury, and Guards. Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,

Or any creeping venom'd thing, that lives! For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,
If ever he have child, abortive be it,

Thou didst unworthy slaugliter upon others.
Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,

Glo. Say, that I slew them not?
Whose ugly and unnatural aspect

Anne. Why, then , they are not dead :
May fright the hopeful mother at the view; But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.
And that be heir to his unhappiness!

Glo. I did not kill your husband.
If ever he have wife, let her be made

Anne. Why, then he is alive.
More miserable by the death of him,

Glo. Nay, he is dead ; and slain by Edward's hand.
Than I am made by my young lord, and thee ! - Anne. In thy soul's throat thou liest; queen Mar-
Come, now, toward Chertsey with your holy load, garet saw
Taken from Paul's to be interred there!

Thy murderous faulchion smoking in his blood;
And, still as you are weary of the weight, The which thou once didst bend against her breast,
Root you, whiles I lament king Henry's corse! But that thy brothers beat aside the point.
(The Bearers take up the corpse, and advance. Glo. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue,
Enter GLOSTER.

That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.
Glo. Stay you, that bear the corse, and set it down ! Anne. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind,
Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend, That never dreamt on aught but butcheries:
To stop devoted charitable deeds ?

Didst thou not kill this king?
Glo. Villains, set down the corse! or, by Saint Paul, Glo. I grant ye.
I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.

Anne. Dost grant me, hedge-hog? then, God grant
1 Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass! me too,
Glo. Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command: Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deod!
Advance thy halberd higher, than my breast, O, he was gentle, niild, and virtuous,
Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, Glo. Theftter for the King of heaven, that hath him.
And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. Anne. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come,

(The Bearers set down the coffin. Glo. Let him thank me, that holp to send him hither!
Anne. What, do you tremble? are you all afraid? For he was fitter for that place, than earth.
Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortal,

Anne. And thou unfit for any place, but hell. And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil, I Gk, Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!

Anne. Some dungeon.
Thou had'st but power over his mortal body,

Glo. Your bed-chamber.
His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone! Anne. Il rest betide the chamber, where thou liest !
Glo. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst! Glo. So will it, madam, till I lie with you
Anne. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble Anne. I hope so.
us oot!

Glo. I know 50.-But, gentle lady Anne,
For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, To leave this keen encounter of our wits,
Fill'd it with cursing cries, and deep exclaims. And fall somewhat into a slower method;
If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,

Is not the causer of the timeless deaths Behold this pattern of thy butcheries!

of these Plantagenets, llenry, and Edward,
0, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds As blameful, as the executioner?
Open their congeald mouths, and bleed afresh! Anne. Thon wast the cause, and most accurs'd effect.
Blush, bigsh, thou lump of foul deformity!

Glo. Your bcanty was the cause of that elect;
For 'tis thy presence, that exhales this blood Your bcauty, which did haunt me in my sleep,
From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; To undertake the death of all the world,
Thy deed.inhuman and unnatural

So I might live one hour in your swect bosom.
Provokes this deluge most unnatural.-

Anne. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death! These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.
O earth, which this blood drink’st, revenge his death! Glo. These eyes could not endure that beanty's
Either,heaven with lightning strikethe murderer dead, wreck;
Or, earth, gape open wide, and cat him quick; You should not blemish it, if I stood by:
As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood, As all the world is cheered by the sub,
Wluch his hell-govern's arm bath butchered! So I by that; it is my day, my life.

Glo. Lady, you know no rules of charity, Anne. Black night'o'ershade thy day, and death
Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. thy life!
Anne. Villain, thou know'st no law of God, nor Glo. Curse not thyself, fair creature! thou art bath.
man; .

Anne. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee.
No bcast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity. Glo. It is a quarrel most ungataral,
Glo. But I know none, and therefore am no beast. To be revenged on him, that laveth thoe.
Anne. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth! Anne. It is a quarrel just and reasonable,
Glo. More wonderful, when angels are so angry! To be reveng'd on him, that kill'd

husband. Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,

Glo. He, that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband, of these supposed evils, to give me leave,

Did it to help thee to a better husband. By circumstance, but to acquit myself.

Anne. His better doth not breathe upon the earth

.
Anne. Vouchsafe, diffus’d infection of a man, Glo. He lives, that loves you better, than he could.
For these known evils, but to give me leave, Anne. Name him !
By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self.

Glo. Plantagenet.
Glo. Fairer, than tongue can name thee, let me have Anne. Why, that was he.
Some patient leisure to excuse myself!

Glo. The self-same name, but one of better Datore.
Anne, Fouler, than heart can think thee, thou canst Anne. Where is be?
make

Glo. Here. (She spits at him.] Why dost thou spit No escase current, but to hang thyself.

at me? Glo. By such despair I should accuse myself. Anne. 'World, it were mortal poison, for thy sake! Anne. And, by despairing, shalt thou stand excus'd; Glo. Never came poison from su sweet a place.

my

Anne. Never hung poison on a fouler toad. Glo. That it may piease you leave these sad designs
Out of my sight! thou dost infect mine eyes.. To him, that hath more cause to be a mourner,
Glo. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. And presently repair to Crosby-place:

Anne.'Would, they were basilisks to strike thee dead! Where, after I have solemnly interr'd,
Glo. I would, they were, that I might die at once; At Chertsey monast'ry, this noble king,
For now they kill me with a living death.

And wet his grave with my repentant tears,
Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, I will with all expedient duty see you:
Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops : For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you,
These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear, Grant me this boon!
Not when my father York aud Edward wept, Anne. With all my heart; and much it joys me too,
To hear the piteous moan, that Rutland made, To see you are become so penitent.--
When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at him: Tressel and Berkley, go along with me!
Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,

Glo. Bid me farewell!
Told the sad story of my father's death,

Anne. 'Tis more than you deserve:
And twenty times made pause, to sob, and weep, But, since you teach me, how to flatter you,
That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks, Imagine, I have said farewell already.
Like trees bedash'd with raio: in that sad time

{Exeunt Lady Anne, Tressel, and Berkley. My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;

Glo. Take up the corse, sirs !
And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, Gent. Towards Chertsey, noble lord ?
Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping ] Glo. No, to White-Friars; there attend my coming!
I never sued to friend, nor enemy;

[Exeunt the rest, with the corse.
My tongue could never learn sweet soothing word; Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ?
But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee,

Was ever woman in this humour won?
My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. I'll have her, — but I will not keep her long.

[She looks scornfully at himn. What! I, that kill'd her husband, and his father,
Teach not thy lip such scorn! for it was made To take her in her heart's extremest hate;
For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.

With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,
If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,

The bleeding witness of her hatred by ;
Lo! here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; With God, her conscience, and these bars against me,
Which if thaou please to hide in this true breast, And I no friends to back my suit withal,
And let the soul forth, that adoreth thee,

But the plain devil, and dissembling looks,
I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,

And yet to win her, - all the world to nothing !
And humbly beg the death upon my knee.

Ha!
(He lays his breast open; she offers at ic Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
with his sword.

Edward, her lord, whom I some three months since,
Nay, do not pause! for I did kill king Henry ; Stabb’d in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
But 'twas thy beauty, that provoked me.

A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman, -
Nay, now despatch! 'twas I, that stabb'd young Ed- Fram'd in the prodigality of nature,

ward; (She again offers at his breast. Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal, Bat 'twas thy heavenly face, that set me on. The spacious world cannot again afford:

[She lets fall the sword. And will she yet abase her eyes on me,
Take up the sword again, or take up me!

That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince,
Anne. Arise, dissembler! though I wish thy death, and made her widow to a woeful bed?
I will not be thy executioner.

On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety?
Glo. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. On me, that halt, and am misslapen thus ?
Anne. I have already.

My dukedom to a beggarly denier,
Glo. That was in thy rage:

I do mistake my person all this while.
Speak it again, and even with the word,

Upon nảy life, she finds, although I cannot,
This hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, Myself to be a marvellous proper map.
Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love;

I'll be at charges for a looking-glass,
To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. And entertain a score or two of tailors,
Anne. I would, I knew thy heart.

To study fashions to adorn my body,
Glo. 'Tis figur'd in

Since I am crept in favour with myself,
My tongue.

I will maintain it with some little cost.
Anne. I fear me, both are false.

But, first, I'll turn yon' fellow in his grare;
Glo. Then man

And then returu lamenting to my love.
Was never true.

Shine out, fair son, till I have bought a glass,
Anne. Well, well, put up your sword !

That I may see my shadow, as I pass!
Glo. Say then, my peace is made!
Anne. That shall
you know

SCENE III. — The same. A room in the palace.
Hereafter.

Enter Queen ElizaDETB, Lord Rivers, and Lord
Glo. But shall I live in hope?

GREY.
Anne. All men,

Riv. Have patience, madam! there's no doubt, his
I hope, live so.

majesty
Clo. Vouchsafe to wear this ring!

Will soon recover his accustom'd health.
Anne. To take is not to give.[She puts on the ring. Grey. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse:
Glo. Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort,
Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; And cheer his grace with quick and merry words!
Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.

Eliz. If he were dead, what would betide of ine?
And if thy poor devoted servant may

Grey, No other harm, but loss of such a lord. But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,

0. Eliz. The loss of such alord includes all harms. Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever,

Grey. The heavens have bless'd you with a goodAnne. What is it?

[Exit.

ly son,

-- amen.

- Was not your husband

To be your comforter, when he is gone.

You envy my advancement, and my friends ;
Q. Eliz. Ah, he is young, and his minority God grant, we never may have need of you!
Is put in to the trust of Richard Gloster,

Glo. Meantime, God grants, that we have need of you.
A man, that loves not me, vor none of you, Our brother is imprison'd by your means,
Riv. Is it concluded, he shall be protector? Myself disgrac'd, and the nobility
Q. Elir. It is determin’d, not concluded yet : Held in contempt; while great promotions
But so it must be, if the king miscarry.

Are daily given, to ennoble those,
Enter BUCKINGHAM and STANLEY.

That scarce, some two days since, were worth a no-
Grey. Here come the lords of Buckingham and ble.
Stanley

Q. Eliz. By him, that rais’d me to this careful height
Buck. Good time of day unto your royal grace! From that contented hap, which I enjoy'd,
Stan. God make your majestyjoyful,as you have been! I never did incense his majesty,
Q. Eliz. The countess Richmond, good my lord | Against the duke of Clarence, but have been
of Stanley,

An earnest advocat to plead for him.
To your good prayer will scarcely say

My lord, you do me shameful injury,
Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding she's your wife, Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects.
Aud loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd, Glo. You may deny that you were not the cause
I hate not you for her proud arrogance.

Of my lord Hastings' late imprisonment.
Stan. I do beseech you, either not believe Riv. She may, my lord; for
The envious slanders of her false accusers ;

Glo. She may,lord Rivers ?-why, who knows not so?
Or, if she be accus'd on true report,

She

may do more, sir, than denying that: Bear with her weakness, which, I think, proceeds She may help you to many fair preferments, From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. And then deny her aiding hand therein,

Q. Eliz.Saw you the king to-day, my lord of Stanley? And lay those honours on your high desert.
Stan. But now, the duke of Buckingham, and I, What may she not? She may,- ay, marry, may she, –
Are come from visiting his majesty,

Riv. What, marry, may she?
Q. Eliz. What likelihood of his amendment, lords ? Glo. What, marry, may she? marry with a king,
Buck. Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheer- A bachelor, a handsome stripling too:
fully.

I wish, your grandam had a worser match.
Q. Eliz. God grant him health! Did you confer 0. Eliz. My lord of Gloster, I have too long borne
with him?

Your blunt upbraidings, and your bitter scoffs:
Buck. Ay, madam: he desires to make atonement By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty,
Between the duke of Gloster and your brothers, of those gross taunts, I often have endur'd.
And between them and my lord chamberlaiu, I had rather be a country servant-maid,
And sent to waru them to his royal presence. Than a great queen, with this condition-

Q.Eliz.'Would all were well! But that will never be;- To be so baited, scorn'd, and stormed at:
I fear, our happiness is at the height.

Small joy have I in being England's queen.
Enter Glosten, Hastixgs, and Dorset.

Enter Queen MARGARET, behind.
Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it. - Q. Mar. And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech
Who are they, that complain unto the king,

thce!
That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not? Thy honour, state, and seat, is due to me.
By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly, Glo. What? threat yon me with telling of the king?
That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours. Tell him, and spare pot! look, what I have said
Because I cannot flatter, and speak fair,

I will avouch, in presence of the king.
Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower.
Duck with French nods and apish.courtesy, 'T'is time to speak, my pains are quite forgot
I must be held a rancorous enemy.

Q. Mar. Out, devil! I remember them too well:
Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm, Thou kill'dst my husband Herry in the Tower,
But thus his simple truth must be abus'd

And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

Glo. Ere you were queen, ay, or yoаr husband king,
Grey. To whom in all this presence speaks your I was a pack-horse in his great affairs,

A weeder-out of his proud adversaries,
Clo. To thee, that hast nor honesty, nor grace. A liberal rewarder of his friends;
When have linjur'd thee? when done thee wrong? To royalize his blood, I spilt mine own.
Or thee? - or thee?

of

your faction ? 0. Mar. Ay, and much better blood, than his,or thise. A plague upon you all! His royal grace,

Glo. In all which time, you, and your husband Gres,
Whom God preserve better, than you would wish! - Were factions for the house of Lancaster;
Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing — while, And, Rivers, so were you.
But you must trouble him with lewd complaints, In Margaret's battle at Saint Albans slain?

Q. "Eliz. Brother of Gloster, you mistake the matter: Let me put in your minds, if you forget,
The king, of his own royal disposition,

What you have been ere now, and what you are,
And not provok'd by any suitor else,

Withal, what I have been, and what I am! Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,

Q. Mar. A murd'rous villain, and so still thon art. That in your outward action shows itself,

Glo. Poor Clarence did forsake

his father Warwick

;
Against my children, brothers, and myself, Ay, and forswore himself, – Which Jesu pardon!
Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather 0. Mar. Which God revenge!
The gronnd of your ill-will, and so remove it. Glo. To fight on Edward's party, for the crowa;

Glo. I cannot tell. The world is grown so bad, And, for his meed, poor lori, he is mew'd up
That wrens may prey, where eagles dare not perch. I would to God, my heart were flint, like Edward's,
Since every Jack became a gentleman,

Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine;
There's many a gentle person made a Jack.

I am too childish-foolish for this world. Q. Eliz. Come, come, we koow your meaning, C. Mar. Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave this brother Gloster!

world,

grace?

or any

Thou cacodaemon! there thy kingdom is.

Glo. Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag! Riv. My lord of Gloster, in those busy days, Q. Mar. And leave out thee? stay, dog! for thou Which here you nrge, to prove us enemies,

shalt hear me.
We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king; If heaven have any grievous plague in store,
So shoul] we you, if you should be our king. Exceeding those, that I can wish upon thee,

Glo. If I should be? -- I had rather be a pedlar: 0, let them keep it, till thy sins be ripe,
Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof! And then hurl down their indignation

Q. Eliz. As little joy, my lord, as you suppose On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace !
You should enjoy, were you this country's king, The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul!
As little joy you may suppose in me,

Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st, That I enjoy, being the queen thereof.

And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
Q. Mar. A little joy enjoys the queen thereof; No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
For I am she, and altogether joyless.

Unless it be, while some tormentiug dream
I cau no longer hold me patient. [ Advancing. Atlrights thee with a hell of ugly devils !
Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out | Thou elvish-mark’d, abortive, rooting hog!
In sharing that, which you have pill'd from me: Thou, that wast seal'd in thy nativity
Which of you trembles not, that looks on me? The slave of nature, and the son of hell!
If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects : 'Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb !
Yet that, by you depos’d, you quake like rebels ? --- Thou loathed issue of thy father's loius!
Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away!

Thou rag of honour! thou detested-
Glo. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thon in my Glo. Margaret.
sight?

e Mar. Richard!
Q. Mar. But repetition of what thou hast marr’d; Glo. Ha ?
That will I make, before I let thee go.

Q. Mar. I call thee not. Glo. Wert thou not banished on pain of death? Glo. I cry thee mercy then; for I did think, l. Mar. I was; but I do find more pain in banishment, That thou had'st call’d me all these bitter names. Than death can yield me here by my abode.

Q. Mur. Why, so I did, but look'd for no reply. A husband and a son thou ow'st to me,

0, let me make the period to my curse! And thou, a kingdom; - all of you, allegiance. Glo. 'Tis done by ine; and ends in - Margaret. This sorrow, that I have, by right is yours, Q. Eliz. Thus have you breath'd your curse against And all the pleasures, you usurp, are mine.

yourself. Glo. The curse my noble father laid on thee, Q. Mar. Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper,

fortune!
And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes, Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider,
And then, to dry them gav'st the duke a clout, Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about?
Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland, Fool, fool! thou whet’st a knife to kill thyself.
His curses, then from bitterness of soul

The day will come, that thou shalt wish for me
Denounc'd against thee, are all fallen upon thee, To help thee curse this pois’nous bunch-back'd toad,
And God, not we, hath plagu'd they bloody deed. Hast. False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse.
Q. Eliz. So just is God, to right the innocent. Lest, to thy harm, thou move our patience!
Hast. 0, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, Q. Mar. Foul shame upon you! you have all mov'd
And the most merciless, that e'er was heard of.

mine. Riv. Tyrants themselves wept, when it was reported. Riv. Were you well serv'd, you would be taught Dors. No man but prophesied revenge for it.

your duty. Buck. Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. Q. Mar. To serve me well, you all should do me duty. Q. Mar. What! were you snarling all, before I came, Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects! Ready to catch each other by the throat,

O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty! And turn you all your hatred now on me?

Dor. Dispute not with her, she is lunatic. Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven, Q. Mar. Peace, master marquis, you are malapert: That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current: Their kingdom's loss, my woeful banishment, 0, that your young nobility could judge, Could all but answer for that peevish brat? What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable! Can curses pierce the clouds, and enter heaven ? They, that stand high, have many blasts to shake them; Why, then give way, dull clouds, to my quick cur- | And, if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. ses!

Glo. Good counsel, marry; learn it, learo it, marThough not by war, by surfeit die your king,

quis ! As ours by murder, to make him a king!

Dor. It touches yon, my lord, as much as me. Edward, thy son, that now is prince of Wales, Glo. Ay, and much more: but I was born so high, For Edward, my son, that was prince of Wales, Our aiery buildeth in the cedar's top, Die in his youth, by like untimely violence!

And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun. Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen,

Q. Mar. And turns the sun to shade ;-alas, alas! Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self!

Witness my son, now in the shade of death; Long may'st thou live, to wail thy children's loss, Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath And see another, as I see thee now,

Hath in eternal darkness folded ap. Deck'd in thy rights, as thon art stall'd in mine! Your aiery buildeth in our aiery's nest ? Long die thy happy days before thy death! O God, that see'st it, do not suffer it! And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief,

As it was won with blood, lost be it so! Die neither mother, wife, por England's queen! Buck. Peace, peace, for shame, if not for charity! Rivers, - and Dorset, - you were standers by, Q. Mar. Urge neither charity, por shame to me! And so wast thou, lord Hastings, — when my son Uncharitably with me have you dealt, Was stabb’d with bloody daggers ; God, I pray him, And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd. That none of you may live your natural age, My charity is ontrage, life my shame, But by some unlook'd accident cut off!

And in my shame still live my sorrow's rage!