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ACT IV. SCENE I.
Before the Tower.
Enter, on one side, Queen Elizabeth, Duchess of
York, und Marquis of DORSET; on the other,
God give your graces both
away? Anne. No further than the Tower; and, as I guess, Upon the like devotion as yourselves, To gratulate the gentle princes there. Q. Eliz. Kind sister, thanks; we'll enter all to
And, in good time, here the lieutenant comes.-
Brak. Right well, dear madam : By your patience, I may not suffer
you to visit them;
Q. Eliz. The king! who's that?
I mean, the lord protector. Q. Eliz. The lord protect him from that kingly
title! Hath he set bounds between their love, and me? I am their mother, who shall bar me from them?
Duch. I am their father's mother, I will see them. Anne. Their aunt I am in law, in love their mo
Then bring me to their sights ; I'll bear thy blame, And take thy office from thee, on my peril.
Brak. No, madam, no, I may not leave it so ; I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.
Stan. Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour
hence, And I'll salute your grace of York as mother, And reverend looker-on of two fair queens. Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster.
[To the Duchess of Gloster. There to be crowned Richard's royal queen.
Q. Eliz. Ah, cut my lace asunder!
Anne. Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news!
Dor. Be of good cheer :-Mother, how fares your
Q. Eliz. O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee gone,
Duch. O ill-dispersing wind of misery!
sent. Anne. And I with all unwillingness will go.0, would to God, that the inclusive verge Of golden metal, that must round my brow, Were red-hot steel, to seer me to the brain ! Anointed let me be with deadly venom; And die, ere men can say-God save the queen!
Q. Eliz. Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory; To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm. Anne. No! why?-_When he, that is my husband
now, Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse; When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his
hands, Which issu'd from my other angel husband, And that dead saint which then I weeping follow'd ; O, when, I say, I look'd on Richard's face, This was my wish,- Be thou, quoth I, accurs’d, For making me, so young, so old a widow ! And, when thou wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy bed ; And be thy wife (if any be so mad) More miserable by the life of thee, Than thou hast made me by my deur lord's death ! Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again, Even in so short a space, my woman's heart Grossly grew captive to his honey words, And prov'd the subject of mine own soul's curse : Which ever since hath held mine eyes from rest; For never yet one hour in his bed Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep, But with his timorous dreams was still awak'd. Besides, he hates me for
father Warwick; And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
Q. Eliz. Poor heart, adieu ; I pity thy complaining.
Anne. Adieu, poor soul, that tak’st thy leave of it! Duch. Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee!
[To Dorset. Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend thee !
[To Anne. Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee !
[To Q. Elizabeth. I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me! Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen, And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen. Q. Eliz. Stay yet; look back, with me, unto the
Tower.Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes, Whom envy hath immur'd within your walls ! Rough cradle for such little pretty ones ! Rude ragged nurse! old sullen play-fellow For tender princes, use my babies well! So foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell. [Exeunt.
A Room of State in the Palace.
throne ; BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, a Page, and