Q. Mar. When holy Harry died, and my sweet son. Duch. Dead life, blind sight, poor, mortal-living ghost, Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life usurped, Brief abstract and recórd of tedious days, Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth, Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood! [Sitting down. Q. Eliz. Ah, that thou wouldst as soon afford a grave, As thou canst yield a melancholy seat; Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here! [Sitting down by her. Q. Mar. If ancient sorrow be most reverent, Give mine the benefit of seniory, And let my griefs frown on the upper hand. 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 killed him! I had a husband, till a Richard killed him: Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard killed him: Duch. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him; I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him. Q. Mar. Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard killed him; Q. Mar. Bear with me, I am hungry for revenge, The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, Untimely smothered in their dusky graves. Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray, Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophesy, the time would come, That I should wish for thee to help me curse That bottled spider, that foul, bunch-backed toad. Q. Mar. I called thee then, vain flourish of my fortune; The flattering index of a direful pageant, Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers? Who sues, and kneels, and says-God save the queen? Farewell, York's wife,- and queen of sad mischance,- Q. Eliz. O, thou well skilled in curses, stay a while, And teach me how to curse mine enemies. Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the day; Compare dead happiness with living woe: Think that thy babes were fairer than they were, like mine. Q. Eliz. My words are dull; O, quicken them with thine! Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce [Exit Q. MARGARET. 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 Duch. If so, then be not tongue-tied: go with me, 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 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 owed 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, Grey? Duch. Where is kind Hastings?. K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets!-strike alarum, drums; Let not the heavens hear these telltale women Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I say. [Flourish. Alarums. Either be patient and entreat me fair, K. Rich. Ay; I thank God, my father, and yourself. Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience. 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; Thy school-days, frightful, desperate, wild, and furious; That ever graced me in thy company? K. Rich. 'Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that called your grace To breakfast once, forth of my company. If I be so disgracious in your sight, Let me march on, and not offend you, madam.— Duch. Either thou wilt die, by God's just ordinance, Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish, Therefore take with thee my most heavy curse; 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 called-Elizabeth, Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? O, let her live, So she may live unscarred of bleeding slaughter, K. Rich. Wrong not her birth; she is of royal blood. Q. Eliz. And only in that safety died her brothers. If grace had blest thee with a fairer life. K. Rich. You speak as if that I had slain my cousins. Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle cozened Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. Whose hands soever lanced their tender hearts, Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction. No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt, To revel in the entrails of my lambs. But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame, K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise, And dangerous success of bloody wars, As I intend more good to you and yours, Q. Eliz. What good is covered with the face of heaven, To be discovered, that can do me good? K. Rich. The advancement of your children, gentle lady. Q. Eliz. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads? |