Edward for Edward pays a dying debt.

Queen. Wilt thou, O God, fly from fuch gentle lambs, And throw them in the intrails of the wolf?

When did't thou fleep, when such a deed was done?
Q. Mar. When holy Henry dy'd, and my fweet fon.
Dutch. Dead life, blind fight, poor mortal living ghost,
Woe's fcene, world's fhame, grave's due, by life ufurp'd,
Brief abstract and record of tedious days,

Reft thy unreft on England's lawful earth,.
Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood.

Queen. Ah, that thou would'ft as foon afford a grave, As thou canst yield a melancholy feat;

Then would I hide my bones, not reft them heredi Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but we? 14

Q. Mar. If ancient forrow be most reverent,
Give mine the benefit of figniory;

And let my griefs frown on the upper hand..
If forrow can admit fociety,

Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine.
I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him :

I had a husband, till a Richard kill'd him.
Thou had'ft an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him:
Thou had'ft a Richard, till a Richard kill'd him.

Dutch. I had a Richard too, and thou did't kill him:
I had a Rutland too, thou help'ft to kill him. [him.
**Q. Mar. Thou had'st a Clarence too, and Richar‍d kill'd
From forth h the kennel of thy womb hath crept:
A hell-hound, that doth hunt us all to death:
That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes,
To worry lambs and lap their gentle blood;
That foul defacer of God's handy-work?

Thy womb let loofe, to chafe us to our graves,
O upright, juft, and true-difpofing God, ode romole
How do I thank thee, that this carnal cur 189ÍDLA
Preys on the iffue of his mother's body;

D

And makes her pue-fellow with others moan miti
Dutch. Oh, Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes:
God witness with me, I have wept for thine, ind I
Q. Mar. Bear with me: I am hungry for revenge,
And now I cloy me with beholding ie
MA

Thy

Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward":
Thy other Edvard dead, to quit my Edward:
Young York he is but boot, because both they
Match not the high perfection of my lofs."
Thy Clarence he is dead, that ftab'd my Edward 10% of
And the beholders of this tragic play,

Th' adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Gray, qu?!)
Untimely fmother'd in their dufky graves.
Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer,
Only referv'd their factor to buy fouls,
And fend them thither: but at hand, at hand,
Infues his piteous and unpitied end."

Evengeance.
Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, faints pray for
Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray,
That I may live to fay, the dog is dead!

Queen. Oh! thou did'ft prophefy, the time would come, That I fhould with for thee to help me curfe That bottl'd spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad. Q. Mar. I call'd thee then vain flourish of my fortune, I call'd thee then poor fhadow, painted Queen, The prefentation of but what I was;

The flatt'ring index of a direful pageant;
One heav'd on high, to be hurl'd down below:
A mother only mock'd with two fair babes;
A dream of what thou waft; a garish flag,
To be the aim of ev'ry dang'rous fhot;
A fign of dignity, a breath, a bubble;
A Queen in jeft, only to fill the fcene.
Where is thy hufband now? where be thy brothers? H
Where be
thy children? wherein doft thou joy
Who fues and kneels, and fays, God fave the Queen ?
Where be the bending Peers, that flatter'd thee
Where be the thronging troops, that follow'd thee?
Decline all this, and fee what now thou art.
For happy wife, a most diftreffed widow;
For joyful mother, one that wails the name;
For one being fu'd to, one that humbly fuest
For Queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care,
For one that fcorn'd at me, now fcorn'd of me;
For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one;

For

For one commanding all, obey'd of none.

Thus hath the courfe of juftice wheel'd about,
And left thee but a very prey to time;

Having no more but thought of what thou wert, dod
To torture thee the
Thou did'ft ufurpre, being what thou art.
ufurp my place, and doft thou not

Ufurp the just proportion of my forrow?

Now thy proud neck bears half my burden'd yoke;
From which, ev'n here I flip my wearied head,
And leave the burden of it all on thee.

Farewel, York's wife, and Queen of fad mifchance,
Thefe e English woes fhall make me fmile in France.
Queen. O thou well-fkill'd in curfes, ftay awhile,
And teach me how to curfe mine enemies.

Q Mar. Forbear to fleep the night, and faft the day: Compare dead happiness with living woe; Think, that thy babes were fweeter than they were, And he, that flew them, fouler than he is: Bett'ring thy lofs makes the bad caufer worse, Revolving this, will teach thee how to curfe, Queen. My words are dull, O! quicken them with thine Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them fharp, and pierce [Exit Margaret. Dutch. Why should calamity be full of words? Queen. Windy attorneys to your client's woes, Airy fucceeders of inteftate joys, (21); Poor breathing orators of miferies!

like mine.

Let them have fcope, tho' what they do impart
Help nothing elfe, yet they do eafe the heart.

W Dutch. If fo, then be not tongue-ty'd; go with me,

And in the breath of bitter words let's mother My damned fon, that thy two fweet fons fmother'd. [Drum, within.

I hear his drum, be copious in exclaims.

(21) Airy fucceeders of inteftine joys,] Thus the generality of the

reading. I have adopted another from the quarto

editions, from the oldeft folio impreffion. But I can 1597 and this

which, I think, must be the true one fro of bird grad and fol

Airy fuccenders of inteftate joys,17 He130 ¥19V, 8. #1995)) 107 i e. Words, tun'd' to complaints, fucceed joys that are dead; and unbequeath'd to them to whom they thould properly defcend,

M5

Enter

K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedition Dutch. O, he, that might have intercepted thee By ftrangling thee in her accurfed womb, From all the flaughters, wretch, that thou hast done, 2 Queen. Hid'st thou that forehead with a golden crown, Where should be branded, if that right were right, The flaughter of the Prince that ow'd that crown, O And the dire death of my poor fons and brothers ? Tell me, thou villain-flave, where are my c children? Duch. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother And little Ned Plantagenet, his fon?w Clarence-?) Queen. Where is kind Haftings, Rivers, Vaughan, Gray K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets! trike, alarum, drums k Les not the heavens hear thefe tell-tale women botted? Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I fay.

[Flourish. Warums

1

glidW

Ether be patient, and intreat me fait,
*Inyo a VIA
Or with the clamorous report of war vit suit bn A
Thus will I drown your exclamations,
Dutch. Art thou my fon?
madh timore baA
K. Rich. Av, I thank God, my father, and yourself
Dutch. Then patiently hear my impatience,
K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your condition,
hat canno
brook the accent of reproof.
Dutch. I will be mild, and gentle in my words. Y
K. Rch. And brief, good mother, for I am in hafte.
Dutch. At thou fo hafty 2. I have ftaid for thee, 107
God knows, in anguish, pain and agony od hovedT
K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you ibn A
Dutch, No, by the holy rood, thou know'ft it well,
Thou cam' on earth to make the earth my hell
A grievous burden was thy birth to me,
Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;

་

Thy fchool-days frightfel, defp'rate, wild and furious;
Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold and venturous ?`
Thy age confirm'd, proud, fubtle, fly and bloody. 22
What comfortable hour cant thou name,
That ever grac'd me in thy company?

K. Rich.

K. Rich. Faith, none but Humphry Houre, that call'd your Grace

To breakfast once, forth of my company.
If I be fo difgracious in your fight,
Let me march on, and not offend your
Strike up the drum.11

Σ

Dutch. pry'thee, hear me speak.

K. Rich. You speak too bitterly. 19 send it t

Dutch. Hear me a word:

For I fhall never speak to thee again.

K. Rich. So,

Dutch. Either thou'lt die by God's just ordinance,
Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror;

Or I with grief and extreme age fhall perish;
And never look upon thy face again.

Therefore take with thee my most heavy curfe;
Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more,
Than all the compleat armour that thou wear'ft!
My prayers on the adverfe party fight,

And there the little fouls of Edward's children.
Whisper the fpirits of thine enemies,

And promise them fuccefs and victory! STA
Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end

ジ

Shame ferves thy life, and doth thy death attend. [Exit. Queen. Tho' far more caufe, yet much less spirit to curse Abides in me, I fay Amen to her,

[Going K. Rich. Stay, Madam, I muft fpeak a word with you. Queen! I have no more fons of the royal blood For thee to flaughter; for my daughters, Richard, They fhall 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.

Queen. And muft fhe die for this? O let her live,
And I'll corrupt her manners, ftain her beauty,..
Slander myself as falfe to Edward's bed,
Throw over her the veil of infamy:

So the may live unfcarr'd from bleeding flaughter,
I will confefs, fhe was not Edward's daughter.

·K. Rich. Wrong not her birth, he is of royal blood.

Queen