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Yet, Stanley, notwithstanding the's your wife,
And loves not me, be you, good Lord, assur’d,
I hate not you for her proud arrogance.
Stanley. I do beseech you, either not believe
The envious slanders of her false accusers :
Or, if the be accus'd on true report,
Bear with her weakness ; which, I think, proceeds
From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice.
Queen. Saw you the King to-day, my Lord of Stanley ?
Stanley. But now the Duke of Buckingham and I Are come from visiting his Majesty.
Queen. What likelihood of his amendment, Lords ? Buck. Madam, good hope; his Grace speaks chearfully. Queen. God grant him health! did you confer with him?
Buck. Madam, we did ; he feeks to make atonement Between the Duke of Glo'fter and your brothers, And between them and my Lord Chamberlain ; And sent to warn them to his royal presence.
Queen. Would all were well-but that will never be I fear, our happiness is at the height.
Glo. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it.
Who are they, that complain unto the King,
That I, forsooth, am ftern, and love them not ?
By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly,
That Áll his ears with such diffentious rumours.
Because I cannot flatter, and look fair,
Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive and cog,
Duck with French nods, and apish courtesy,
I must be held a rancorous enemy.
Cannot a plain man live and think no harm,
But thus his fimple truth must be abus'd
By filken, fly, insinuating Jacks?
Gray. To whom in all this presence speaks your Grace
Glo. To thee, that halt nor honesty, nor grace :
When have I injur'd thee ? when done thee wrong?
Or thee? or thee? or any of your faction?
A plague upon you all ! His royal person,
Whom God preserve better than you would with,
Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing while,
But you muit trouble him with lewd complaints.
Queen. Brother of Glo'ster, you mistake the matter:
The King of his own royal disposition,
And not provok'd by any fuitor else,
(Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,
That in your outward action Thews itself
Against my children, brothers, and myself ;)
Makes him to send, that he may learn the ground
ill will, and thereby to remove it.
Glo. I cannot tell ; the world is grown so bad,
That wrens make prey, where eagles dare not perch..
Since every Jack became a gentleman,
There's many a gentle person made a Jack.
Queen. Come, come, we know your meaning, brother
You envy my advancement and my friends :
God grant, we never may have need of you?
Glo. Mean time, God grants that we have need of you,
Our brother is imprisoned by your means;
Myself disgrac'd ; and the nobility
Held in contempt ; while many fair promotions
Are daily given to ennoble those,
That scarce, some two days fince, were worth a noble.
Queen. By him, that rais’d me to this careful height, From that contented hap which I enjoy'd, I never did incenfe his Majesty Againft the Duke of Clarence; but have been An earnest advocate to plead for him. My Lord, you do me shameful injury, Falsely to draw me in these wild suspects.
Glo. You may deny, that you were not the cause Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment.
Riv. She may, my Lord, for
Glo. She may, Lord Rivers-why, who knows not fo? She may do more, Sir, than denying that : She may help you to many fair preferments, And then deny her aiding hand therein, And lay those honours on your high deserts. What may she not ? she maymay, marry, may me,
Riv. What, marry, may she ?
Gło. What, marry, may she? marry with a King, A batchelor, a handsom stripling too : I wis, your grandam had a worfer match.
Queen. My Lord of Gloʻster, I have too long borne Your blant upbraidings, and your bitter scoffs : By heav'n, I will acquaint his Majesty, Of those gross taunts I often have endur’d. I had rather be a country servant-maid, Than a great Queen with this condition ; To be thus taunted, scorn'd and baited at. Small joy have I in being England's Queen.
Enter Queen Margaret. Q. Mar. And leffen'd be 'that small, God, I beseech Thy honour; ftate, and feat is due to me. (thee!
Glo. What! threat you me with telling of the King?
Tell him, and spare not: Look, what I have said, (6)
I will avouch in presence of the King :
'Tis time to speak, my pains are quite forgot.
Q. Mar. Out, devil ! I remember them too well :
Thou kill'dst my husband Herry in the Tower,
And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury.
Glo. Ere you were Queen, ay, or your husband King,
I was a pack-horfe in his great affairs ;
A weeder out of his proud adversaries,
A liberal rewarder of his friends ;
To royalize his blood, I spilt riine own.
Q. Mar. Ay, and much better blood than his or thine.
Glo. In all which time
Were factious for the house of Lancaster ;
And, Rivers, so were you ;--was not your husband,
In Marg'ret's battle, at St. Albans flain?
Let me put in your minds, if you forget,
What you have been ere now, and what you are ;
(6) Tell him, and Spare not : Look, what I have said,] This verse, which was at first left out by the players in their impression (in which the modern editors have follow'd them) I have restored from the old quarto's; and, indeed, without it, the verse, which immediately follows, is hardly sense.
Withal, what I have been, and what I am.
Q. Mar. A murd'rous villain, and so still thou art.
Glo. Poor Clarence did forsake his father Warwick,
Ay, and forswore himself, (which, Jesu, pardon !-)
Q. Mar. Which God revenge ! -
Glo. To fight on Edward's party for the crown ;
And for his meed, poor Lord, he is mew'd up :
I would to God, my heart were fint, like Edward's;
Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine ;
I am too childith-foolish for this world.
Q.Mar. Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave this world,
Thou cacodæmon ! there thy kingdom is.
· Riv. My Lord of Glofter, in those busy days,
Which here you urge to prove us enemies,
We follow'd then our Lord, our lawful King ;
So fould we you, if you should be our King.
Glo. If I would be !--I had rather be a pedlar;
Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof.
Queen. As little joy, my Lord, as you suppose You
should enjoy, were you this country's King ;
As little joy you may suppose in me,
That I enjoy, being the Queen thereof.
Q. Mar. A little joy enjoys the Queen thereof ;
For I am the, and altogether joyless.
I can no longer hold me patient.
Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out
In sharing that which you have pill'd from me ;
Which of you trembles not, that looks on me?
If not that I being Queen, you bow like subjects ;
Yet that by you depos’d, you quake like rebels.
Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away !
Glo. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak’it thou in my fight?
Q. Mar. But repetition of what thou hast marr'd,
That will I make, before I let thee go.
A husband and a son thou ow'st to me;
And thou, a kingdom; all of you, allegiance ;
[To the Queen.
The forrow, that I have, by right is yours ;
And all the pleasures, you usurp, are mine.
Glo. The curse my noble father laid on thee,
When thou didit crown his warlike brows with paper,
And with thy scorns drew'tt 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 now fall’n upon thee;
And God, not we, has plagu'd thy bloody deed.
R. Mar. So just is God to right the innocent.
Haft. O, 'twas the fouleft deed to flay that babe,
And the moft merciless, that e'er was heard of.
Riv. Tyrants themselves wept, when it was reported.
Dorf. No man but prophesy'd revenge for it.
Bučk. Northumberland, then present, wept to see it.
Q. Mar. What! where you snarling all before I came, Ready to catch each other by the throat,
all your hatred now on me ?
Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heav'n,
That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death,
Their kingdoms loss, my woeful banishment,
Could all but answer for that peevish brat?
Can curses pierce the clouds, and enter heav'n?
Why, then give way, dull clouds, to my quick curfes !
If not by war, by surfeit die your King,
As ours by murder to make him a King!
Edward thy fon, that now is Prince of Wales,
For Edrward our son, that was Prince of Wales,
Die in his youth, by like untimely violence !
Thyself a Queen, for me that was a Queen,
Out-live thy glory, like my wretched self!
Long may'st thou live to wail thy children's loss,
And fee another, as I see thee now,
Deck’ 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 ftanders-by,
And so wait thou, Lord Hastings, when my son
Was ftabb’d with bloody daggers; God, I pray him,
'That none of you may
age, But by some unlook'd accident cut off !