1 For one being fu'd to, one that humbly fues; Having no more but thought of what thou wert, Now thy proud neck bears half my burden'd yoke ; Farewel, York's wife, and Queen of fad mifchance; 2 Mar. Forbear to fleep the night, and faft the day. Compare dead happiness with living woe; Think that thy babes were sweeter than they were, And he that flew them, fouler than he is: Bett'ring thy lofs makes the bad caufer worfe; Revolving this, will teach thee how to curse. Queen. My words are dull; O! quicken them with thine. 2. Mar. Thy woes will make them fharp, and pierce [Exit Margaret. like mine Duch. Why fhould calamity be full of words? Airy fucceeders of intellate joys, Poor breathing orators of miferies! Let them have fcope; tho' what they do impart, Duch. If fo. then be not tongue-ty'd; go with me, And in the breath of bitter words let's fmother My Damned fon, that thy two fweet fons fmother'd. [Drum within. I hear his drum, be copious in exclaims SCENE V. Enter King Richard, and his traik K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedition? Duch. O, the that might have intercepted thee, By ftrangling thee in her accurfed womb, From all the flaughters, wretch, that thou haft done. Gray? K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets! strike alarum, drums! Let not the heavens here thefe tell-tale-women Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike. I fay. [Flourifo. 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. I will be mild and gentle in my words. K. Rich. And brief, good mother, for I am in hafte. Duch Art thou fo hafty! I have ftaid for thee, God knows, in anguith, pain, and agony. K. Rich. And came I not at laft to comfort you? Duch. No, by the holy rood, thou know'lt it well; Thou cam'ft on earth to make the earth my hell. A grievous burthen was thy birth to me; ་་ 66 Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; Thy fchool-days frightful, defp'rate wild, and furious; Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and venturous ; Thy age confirm d, proud, fubtle, fly, and bloody." What confortable hour can't thou name, .66 That ever grac'd me in thy company? in thy company? K. Rich. 'Faith, none but Humphry Houre, that call'd your Grace To breakfast once, forth of `my company. If I be fo, &c. K. Rich. If I be fo difgracious in your fight, Let me march on, and not offend your Grace, Strike up the drum. Duch. I pr'ythee hear me fpeak. K. Rich. You speak too bitterly. For I fhall never speak to thee again. K Rich. So, Duch. Either thou'lt die by God's just ordinance, e; And there the little fouls of Edward's children And promife them fuccefs and victory! Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end! Shame ferves thy life, and doth thy death attend. [Exit. Queen. Tho' far more cause, yet much less spirit to curfe Abides in me, I fay Amen to her. [Going. K. Rich. Stay, Madam, I must speak 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 Elifabeth, Queen. And muft fhe die for this? O let her live, So fhe may live unfcarr'd from bleeding flaughter, K. Rich. Wrong not her birth, fhe is of royal blood. 1 K. Rich. No, at their births good stars were opposite. Queen. No, to their lives bad friends were contrary. K. Rich. All unavoided is the doom of destiny. Queen. True; when avoided grace makes destiny. My babes were deftin'd to a fairer death, If grace had blefs'd thee with a fairer life.. K. Rich. You fpeak as if that I had flain my cousins? No doubt the murd'rous knife was dull and blunt, But that ftill ufe of grief makes wild grief tame, And I in fuch a defp'rate bay of death, Like a poor bark, of fails and tackling reft, K, Rich. Madam, fo thrive I in my enterprise, As I intend more good to you and your's, Queen. What good is cover'd with the face of heav'n, To be discover'd, that can do me good! K. Rich. Th' advancement of your children, gentle Queen. Up to fome scaffold, there to lofe their heads. K, Rich. No, to the dignity and height of fortune, The high imperial type of this earth's glory. * Queen. Flatter my forrows with report of it. Tell me, what state, what dignity, what honour, Canft thou devife to any child of mine? K. Rich. Ev'n all I have; ay, and myself and all, Will I withal endow a child of thine, So in the Lethe of thy angry foul Thou drown the fad remembrance of those wrongs, Which thou fuppofeft I have done to thee. Queon. Be brief, left that the process of thy kindness Laft longer telling than thy kindness do. i. e. the throne. K. Rich. Then know, that from my foul I love thy daughter, Queen. My daughter's mother thinks it with her foul. K. Rich. What do you think? Queen. That thou doft love my daughter from thy foul. So from thy foul's love didft thou love her brothers; K. Rich. Be not fo hafty to confound my meaning; Queen. Say then, who dost thou mean fhall be her King? K. Rich. Ev'n he that makes her Queen; who elfe fhould be? Queen. What, thou! K. Rich. Even fo; how think you of it? K Rich. I would learn of you, As one being beft acquainted with her humour. K Rich. With all my heart. Queen. Send to her, by the man that flew her brothers, Tell her, thou mad'ft away her uncle Clarence, Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne. Queen. There's no other way, Unlels thou could't put on fome other shape, K. Rich. Say that I did all this for love of her. |