A Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophecy, the time would come, That I should wish for thee to help me curse That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad. Q. Mar. I call'd thee then, vain flourish of my for- I call'd thee then, poor shadow, painted queen; 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? Having no more but thought of what thou wert, To torture thee the more, being what thou art. Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the day: Q. Eliz. My words are dull, O, quicken them with thine! like mine. 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 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 within. I hear his drum,-be copious in exclaims. 3 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, 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. [Flourish. Alarums. Either be patient, and entreat me fair, K. Rich. Ay; I thank God, my father, and yourself. 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; Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and venturous; Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred: What comfortable hour canst thou name, That ever grac'd me in thy company? K. Rich. 'Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that call'd your grace To breakfast once, forth of my company. If I be so disgracious in your sight, Duch. I pry'thee, hear me speak. For I shall never speak to thee again. K. Rich. So. madam. Duch. Either thou wilt die by God's just ordinance, Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror; Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish, And there the little souls of Edward's children 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 call'd-Elizabeth, Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious. Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? O, let her live, So she may live unscarr❜d of bleeding slaughter, K. Rich. Wrong not her birth, she is of royal blood. site. Q. Eliz. No, to their lives bad friends were contrary. K. Rich. All unavoided is the doom of destiny. Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes destiny: My babes were destin'd to a fairer death, If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life. K. Rich. You speak, as if that I had slain my cousins. |