« 前へ次へ »
Come, I have learn'd, that fearful commenting
Enter Queen MARGARET. Q. Mar. So, now prosperity begins to mellow, And drop into the rotten mouth of death. Here in these confines slily have I lurk’d, To watch the waning of mine enemies. A dire induction 8 am I witness to, And will to France; hoping, the consequence Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical. Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret! who comes here?
Enter Queen ELIZABETH and the Duchess of YORK.
And hear your mother's lamentation !
Q.Mar. Hover about her; say, that right for right Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night, Duch. So many miseries have craz'd my
voice, That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute, Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?
Q. Mar. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet, Edward for Edward pays a dying debt. Q. Eliz. Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle
lambs, And throw them in the entrails of the wolf? When didst thou sleep, when such a deed was done!
Q. Mar. When holy Harry died, and my sweet son. Duch. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal-living
ghost, Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life
usurp'd, Brief abstract and record of tedious days, Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth,
[Sitting down. Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood ! Q. Eliz. Ah, that thou would'st as soon afford a
[Sitting down by her.
Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine :-
Duch. I had a Richard too, and thou did'st kill him;
Duch. O, Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes; God witness with me, I have wept for thine.
Q. Mar. Bear with me, I am hungry for revenge, And now I cloy me with beholding it. Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd
Edward ; Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward ; Young York he is but boot, a because both they Match not the high perfection of my loss.
, Thy Clarence he is dead, that stabb'd my Edward; And the beholders of this tragick play,
The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey,
fortune; I call’d thee then, poor shadow, painted queen; The presentation of but what I was, The flattering index 3 of a direful pageant, One heav'd a high, to be hurl'd down below : A mother only mock'd with two fair babes ; A dream of what thou wast; a garish 4 flag, To be the aim of every dangerous shot; A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble; A queen in jest, only to fill the scene. Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers? Where be thy two sons ? wherein dost thou joy? Who sues, and kneels, and says-God save the queen? Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee? Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee?
3 Indexes were anciently placed at the beginning of books.
Decline all this, and see what now thou art.
Q. Eliz. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay a while,
Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the
Compare dead happiness with living woe;
pierce like mine. [Exit Q. MARGARET.'