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Q. Mar. A murd'rous villain, and so still thou art.
Glo. Poor Clarence did forsake his father Warwick, Ay, and forswore himself,—Which Jesu pardon !—
Q. Mar. Which God revenge!
Glo. To fight on Edward's party, for the crown; And, for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up: I would to God, my heart were fint like Edward's, Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine; I am too childish-foolish for this world. Q. Mar. Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave this
Riv. My lord of Gloster, in those busy days,
Glo. If I should be?- I had rather be a pedlar: Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof!
Q. Eliz. As little joy, my lord, as you suppose You should enjoy, were you this country's king; As little joy you may suppose in me, That I enjoy, being the
thereof. Q. Mar. A little joy enjoys the thereof; For I am she, and altogether joyless. I can no longer hold me patient.-- [ Advancing. Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out In sharing that which you have pill'd from me:S Which of you trembles not, that looks on me? If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects; Yet that, by you depos'd, you quake like rebels ?-Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away! Glo. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in
which you have pill'd from me:) To pill is to pillage. 8 Ah, gentle villain,] Gentle appears to be taken in its common acceptation, but to be used ironically.
what mak’st thou in my sight ?] An obsolete expression for-what dost thou in my sight.
Q. Mar. But repetition of what thou hast marr’d; That will I make, before I let thee go.
Glo. Wert thou not banished on pain of death?
Glo. The curse my noble father laid on thee,
Q. Eliz. So just is God, to right the innocent.
Hast. O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, And the most merciless, that e'er was heard of. Riv. Tyrants themselves wept when it was re
ported. Dors. No man but prophecied revenge for it. Buck. Northumberland, then present, wept to see
it. Q.Mar. What! were you snarling all, before I came, Ready to catch each other by the throat,
hatred now on me? Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven, That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment, Could all but answer for that peevish brat? Can curses pierce the clouds, and enter heaven?
And turn you
6 — hath plagu'd thy bloody deed.) To plague, in ancient language, is to punish.
Why, then give way, call clouds, to my quick
curses ! Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, As ours by murder, to make him a king! Edward, thy son, that now is prince of Wales, For Edward, my son, that was prince of Wales, Die in his youth, by like untimely violence! Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self! Long may'st thou live, to wail thy children's loss; And see another, as I see thee now, Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine! Long die thy happy days before thy death; And, after many lengthend hours of grief, Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen!Rivers,—and Dorset,-you were standers by,– And so wast thou, lord Hastings,—when my son Was stabb'd with bloody daggers; God, I pray him, That none of you may live your natural age, But by some unlook'd accident cut off! Gló. Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd
hag. Q. Mar. And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou
shalt hear me. If heaven have any grievous plague in store, Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, O, let them keep it, till thy sins be ripe, And then hurl down their indignation On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace! The worm of conscience still be-gnaw thy soul! Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livost, And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends! No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, Unless it be while some tormenting dream Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils!
! by surfeit die your king,] Alluding to his luxurious life.
Thou elvish-mark’d,' abortive, rooting hog!.
Ha? Q. Mar.
I call thee not. Glo. I cry thee mercy then; for I did think, That thou had'st call'd me all these bitter names.
Q. Mar. Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply. O, let me make the period to my curse.
Glo. 'Tis done by me; and ends in—Margaret.
yourself. Q. Mar. Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my
fortune! Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. The day will come, that thou shalt wish for me To help thee curse this pois'nous bunch-back'd toad. Hast. False-boding woman, end thy frantick curse; Lest, to thy harm, thou move our patience. Q. Mar. Foul shame upon you, you have all
1- elvish-mark'd,] The common people in Scotland, (as we learn from Kelly's Proverbs,) have still an aversion to those who have any natural defect or redundancy, as thinking them mark'd out for mischief.
? — rooting hog!) The expression is fine, alluding (in memory of her young son) to the ravage which hogs make, with the finest flowers, in gardens; and intimating that Elizabeth was to expect no other treatment for her sons. WARBURTON.
The slave of nature,] The expression is strong and noble, and alludes to the ancient custom of masters branding their profligate slaves; by which it is insinuated that his misshapen person was the mark that nature had set upon him to stigmatize his ill conditions.
bottled spider,] A spider is called bottled, because, like other insects, he has a middle slender, and a belly protuberant. Richard's form and venom made her liken him to a spider.
mov'd mine. Riv. Were you well serv'd, you would be taught
your duty. Q. Mar. To serve me well, you all should do me
duty, Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects: O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty. Dor. Dispute not with her, she is lunatick.
Q. Mar. Peace, master marquis, you are malapert: Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current: O, that your young nobility could judge, What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable! They that stand high, have many blasts to shake them; And, if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. Glo. Good counsel, marry; learn it, learn it,
marquis. Dor. It touches you, my lord, as much as me.
Glo. Ay, and much more: But I was born so high, Our aiery buildeth in the cedar's top, And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun. Q. Mar. And turns the sun to shade ;-alas !
alas!Witness my son, now in the shade of death : Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath Hath in eternal darkness folded up. Your aiery buildeth in our aiery's nest:o— O God, that see'st it, do not suffer it; As it was won with blood, lost be it so!
• Witness my son, &c.] Her distress cannot prevent her quibbling. It may be here remarked, that the introduction of Margaret in this place is against all historical evidence. She was ransomed and sent to France soon after Tewksbury fight, and there passed the remainder of her wretched life.
Your ajery buildeth in our aiery's nest :] An aiery is a hawk's or an eagle's nest.