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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
j 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
I bad a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him.
Duch. O, Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes; God witness with me, I have wept for thine.
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 other Edward dead, to quit my Edward ; Young York he is but boott, because both they Match not the high perfection of my loss. Thy Clarence he is dead, that stabb'd my Edward; And the beholders of this tragick play, The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, Untimely smother'd in their dusty graves. Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer; Only reserv'd their factor, to buy souls, * Companion.
of Thrown in to boot.
And send them thither : But at hand, at hand,
fortune; I call'd thee then, poor shadow, painted queen ; The presentation of but what I was, The lattering index* of a direful pageant, One heav'd a high, to be hurl'd down below : A mother only mock'd with two fair babes; A dream of what thou wast; a garisht flag, To be the aim of every dangerous shot; A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble ; A queen in jest, only to fill the scene. Where is thy husband now where be thy brothers? Where be thy two sons ? wherein dost thou joy? Who sues, and kneels, and says God save the
queen? Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee? Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee? Decline all this, and see what now thou art. For happy wife, a most distressed widow; For joyful mother, one that wails the name; For one being sued to, one that humbly sues; For queen, a very caitiff crown’d with care: For one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me: For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one; For one commanding all, obey'd of none. Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about, And left thee but a very prey to time; Having no more but thought of what thou wert, * Indexes were anciently placed at the begioning of books,
To torture thee the more, being what thou art.
chance, 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. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the
Compare dead happiness with living woe;
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 bave 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 My damned son, that thy two sweet sons smother'd.
[Drum, urithin. 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 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,
Grey ? Duch. Where is kind Hastings? K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets !--strike alarum,
drums ! Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women Rail on the Lord's anointed : Strike, I say,
Duch. Art thou my son ?
self. Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience. K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your condi
Duch. O, let me speak.
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? Duch. No, by the holy rood f thou know'st it
well, * Owned. + Disposition.
Thou cam’st on earth to make the earth my hell.
rious ; Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and ven
call'd your grace
I pr’ythee, hear me speak.
Hear me a word; For I shall never speak to thee again.
K. Rich. So.
[Exit. Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse
* Touchy, fretful.