Yet that by you depos'd, you quake like rebels ?
Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away!

Glou. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in my

sight?

Q. Mar. But repetition of what thou hast marr'd;

That will I make before I let thee go.

165

170

Glou. Wert thou not banished on pain of death?
Q. Mar. I was; but I do find more pain in banishment
Than death can yield me here by my abode.
A husband and a son thou ow'st to me;
And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance.
This sorrow that I have, by right is yours,
And all the pleasures you usurp are mine.
Glou. The curse my noble father laid on thee,
When thou didst crown his warlike brows with

paper,

175

And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes, And then, to dry them, gav'st the Duke a clout Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland, His curses, then from bitterness of soul Denounc'd against thee, are all fallen upon thee; 180 And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed. 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 reported. 185 Dor. No man but prophesied revenge for it.

Buck. Northumberland, then present, wept to see it.

190

Q. Mar. What! were you snarling all before I came,
Ready to catch each other by the throat,
And turn you all your 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 woeful banishment,
Should all but answer for that peevish brat?
Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven?
Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick
curses!

Though not by war, by surfeit die your king,
As ours by murder to make him a king!

196

205

Edward thy son, that now is Prince of Wales,
For Edward our son, that was Prince of Wales, 200
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 mayst thou live to wail thy children's death,
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 length'ned 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 his natural age,

But by some unlook'd accident cut off !

210

Glou. Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd

hag!

215

Q. Mar. And leave out thee? Stay, dog, for thou shalt

hear me.

220

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 begnaw thy soul !
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou

liv'st,

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!
Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog!
Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity
The slave of nature and the son of hell!
Thou slander of thy heavy mother's womb !
Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins!
Thou rag of honour! thou detested -

225

230

235

Glou. I cry thee mercy then, for I did think

That thou hadst 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!
Glou. 'Tis done by me, and ends in “Margaret."
Q. Eliz. Thus have you breath'd your curse against

yourself.

240

Q. Mar. Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune!

Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottl'd 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 245
To help thee curse this poisonous bunch-back'd
toad.

Hast. False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse,

Lest to thy harm thou move our patience. Q. Mar. Foul shame upon you! you have all mov'd

mine.

Riv. Were you well serv'd, you would be taught your

duty.

250

Q. Mar. To serve me well, you all should do me duty, Teach me to be your queen, and you my sub

jects.

O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty! Dor. Dispute not with her; she is lunatic.

Q. Mar. Peace, master marquess, you are malapert ; 255 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. 260 Glou. Good counsel, marry; learn it, learn it, mar

quess.

Dor. It touches you, my lord, as much as me.
Glou. Ay, and much more; but I was born so high,
Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top,

And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun. 265
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 aery buildeth in our aery's nest.

270

O God, that seest it, do not suffer it!

As it is won with blood, lost be it so!

Buck. Peace, peace! for shame, if not for charity.
Q. Mar. Urge neither charity nor shame to me.

Uncharitably with me have you dealt,

And shamefully my hopes by you are butcher'd.
My charity is outrage, life my shame;

And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage!
Buck. Have done, have done.

275

Q. Mar. O princely Buckingham, I'll kiss thy hand, 280
In sign of league and amity with thee.

Now fair befall thee and thy noble house!
Thy garments are not spotted with our blood,
Nor thou within the compass of my curse.