Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the day; Compare dead happiness with living woe; Q. Eliz. My words are dull, O, quicken them with thine! Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce like mine. [Exit Q. Margaret. Dutch. 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. Dutch. 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. Enter King Richard, and his Train, marching. K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedition? Dutch. 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? Dutch. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy bro ther Clarence? And little Ned Plantagenet, his son? Q. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Grey? Dutch. Where is kind Hastings? K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets!-strike alarum, drums! Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women [Flourish.. Alarums. Either be patient, and entreat me fair, K. Rich. Ay; I thank God, my father, and your self. Dutch. Then patiently hear my impatience. K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your con dition, That cannot brook the accent of reproof. Dutch. O, let me speak. K. Rich. Do, then; but I'll not hear. Dutch. I will be mild and gentle in my words. K. Rich. And brief, good mother; for I am in haste. Dutch. 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? Dutch. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well, Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell. Thy school-days, frightful, desperate, wild, and furious; Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and ven turous; Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, 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, Let me march on, and not offend you, madam. Strike up the drum. Dutch. I pr'ythee, hear me speak. K. Rich. You speak too bitterly. Hear me a word; For I shall never speak to thee again. K. Rich. So. Dutch. Either thou wilt die, by God's just ordi nance, Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror; My prayers on the adverse party fight; Whisper the spirits of thine enemies, [Erit. Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse [Going. Abides in me; I say amen to her. 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, And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty; So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter, K. Rich. Wrong not her birth, she is of royal blood. Q. Eliz. To save her life, I'll say-she is not so. thers. K. Rich. Lo, at their births good stars were opposite. 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 des tiny: My babes were destin'd to a fairer death, K. Rich. You speak, as if that I had slain my cousins. Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle cozen'd Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt, But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame, K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprize, Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd! Q. Eliz. What good is cover'd with the face of heaven, To be discover'd, that can do me good? |