And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain?
Let me put in your minds, if you forget, What you have been ere now, and what you are;
Withal, what I have been, and what I am. QUEEN MARGARET A murderous villain, and so still thou art. GLOUCESTER Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick;
Yea, and forswore himself,--which Jesu pardon!-- QUEEN MARGARET Which God revenge! GLOUCESTER 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 flint, like Edward's;
Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine I am too childish-foolish for this world. QUEEN MARGARET Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave the world, Thou cacodemon! there thy kingdom is. RIVERS My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days Which here you urge to prove us enemies, We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king:
So should we you, if you should be our king. GLOUCESTER If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar:
Far be it from my heart, the thought of it! QUEEN ELIZABETH As little joy, my lord, as you suppose You should enjoy, were you this country's king, As little joy may you suppose in me.
That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. QUEEN MARGARET A little joy enjoys the queen thereof;
For I am she, and altogether joyless.
I can no longer hold me patient.
Advancing 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 deposed, you quake like rebels?
O gentle villain, do not turn away! GLOUCESTER Foul wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight? QUEEN MARGARET But repetition of what thou hast marr'd;
That will I make before I let thee go. GLOUCESTER Wert thou not banished on pain of death? QUEEN MARGARET 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 owest to me;
And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance:
The sorrow that I have, by right is yours, And all the pleasures you usurp are mine. GLOUCESTER The curse my noble father laid on thee, When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes, And then, to dry them, gavest the duke a clout Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland--His curses, then from bitterness of soul Denounced against thee, are all fall'n upon thee;
And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed. QUEEN ELIZABETH So just is God, to right the innocent. HASTINGS O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, And the most merciless that e'er was heard of! RIVERS Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. DORSET No man but prophesied revenge for it. BUCKINGHAM Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. QUEEN MARGARET 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 woful banishment, Could 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!
If not by war, by surfeit die your king, As ours by murder, to make him a king!
Edward thy son, which now is Prince of Wales, For Edward my son, which was Prince of Wales, 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 loss;
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 lengthen'd 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 your natural age, But by some unlook'd accident cut off! GLOUCESTER Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag! QUEEN MARGARET And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me.
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 livest, And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, Unless it be whilst 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 mother's heavy womb!
Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins!
Thou rag of honour! thou detested-- GLOUCESTER Margaret. QUEEN MARGARET Richard! GLOUCESTER Ha! QUEEN MARGARET I call thee not. GLOUCESTER I cry thee mercy then, for I had thought That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names. QUEEN MARGARET Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply.
O, let me make the period to my curse! GLOUCESTER 'Tis done by me, and ends in 'Margaret.' QUEEN ELIZABETH Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself. QUEEN MARGARET Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune!
